#yes if you are renting you are still living in that apartment
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jackredfieldwasmyjacob · 8 months ago
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this really is the piss on the poor website huh
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frances-baby-houseman · 11 months ago
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Please remind me that I am not entitled to a 1.1 million dollar house just because I want it very very badly. I don't have 1.1 million dollars! That's the bottom line!
But it's 2 houses down from my MIL and the neighbor in between is the listing agent and her husband was like, we'll dig a tunnel under our house to connect you to rita! What a dream for my kids to just go back and forth between our house and their grandma's! we'd never need to pay for aftercare again!
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spookykestrel · 19 days ago
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Idk I just think it's fucking ridiculous that you can be working 2 jobs that pay double minimum wage, work over 40 hours a week, and not even make enough to afford the cheapest apartments in the area
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bladeofthestars · 7 months ago
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#and i think they expected my partner to cave and say yes get it since they asked more than once but we didn't like the location either#which was by the way RIGHT NEXT TO A HIGHWAY RAMP. can you imagine the fucking noise?!#i was already depressed living in their hoity toity neighborhood and hearing the highway all the time despite seeing so many trees#no fucking way i'm going to move to an apartment complex basically on the highway that purports itself to be just as good as owning a house#when i know I wouldn't be able to modify the property or have a yard or do gardening or fucking anything#and i'm still fucking mad we're moving into an apartment and not renting a house right now#we could have had a house for less than this a year ago but my partner said the rent was too much#now we're in a fucking apartment for more#i wanted a yard#i have been so frustrated and feel like i have no control over literally anything recently#i'm very happy to be out of their place and maybe it will help me feel like i have some control again#but man like nothing has been going my way and a bunch of my stuff depends on other people being open especially my partner#who keeps turning down various things on the basis of needing to do other important stuff AND THEN NOT DOING THAT STUFF EITHER#my pain makes me feel extra out of control#i can't do a task myself and ask my partner to help or do it for me. they've chastised me for not asking for help in the past. i ask.#the task is determined to either be not important enough to actually be done or they don't do it the way that i want and are defensive when#i ask that it actually be done the different way. like i go above and beyond for them and sacrifice time to go do menial stuff#because i currently have more time than them. like getting this outfit for them. i want to tear my hair out and scream#and underlying all of that my family fucking sucks and i can't do anything about that. and the world fucking sucks too#i need to go back or i'll get too tired to drive
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suguann · 7 months ago
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✎. he tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.
tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, but he's also kinda sweet?? [18+ only]
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You like your new roommate.
Simon’s surprisingly better to have around than the last person who lived with you—a girl you knew from college who had an affinity for stealing your clothes and conveniently never had money for rent. He’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick, acknowledge you if you’re in the same room, water your flowers while he rolls his cigarettes on the fire escape, and carry your groceries up the four flights of stairs to your floor. 
He’s attractive, too, in the not-so-conventional sense, but in a disarming way, all small smiles and knowing looks and soft hair you know he doesn’t put much effort into—that sometimes curls around his ears when he lets it get too long—yet it still manages to look better than yours on the best days. 
He never tells you what he does for work, and you’re too polite to ask. But you have a feeling he makes enough to afford a place on the less crime-infested side of town—somewhere nicer than your cramped apartment with its outdated appliances, leaky faucets, and the bright neon sign atop the building across the street that shines through your windows all times of the day—but he says he’s not ready to live alone.
Something tells you there’s more to it than him being a lonely bachelor, but again, you don’t pry.
“Does this place have wi-fi?” is all he’d said the first time you meet, in a voice so smooth and only slightly broken up by his accent, clad in a shirt that looked two sizes too small around his arms and clutching a duffle bag in one big hand. 
Your brain was this shaken-up box of words and syllables that when you answered him, it came out in a nervous stutter. “Y-yeah, I’ll, er…I’ll give it to you—the password, I mean—once you've moved in. If that’s okay.”
He’d dropped his duffle bag in front of the room that would be his. “Consider me moved in.”
The smile he gave you, crinkling eyes and chuckling lightly, only made the stutter worse. 
You let his charm roll off you; you always figured it came naturally to him, a characteristic that comes with being attractive and good.
A handful of months later—of finding a routine around each other and lazy smiles in the morning—something changes the night you go out with a guy Mary from work eagerly sets you up with. 
His name’s Robb, he’s a doctor, and you both love cats; he has a house in Spain. Did I mention he's my cousin?
(A dull no way concealed behind your teeth.
If you hadn’t said yes, you feared your entire lunch break would consist of her waxing poetic over a man you're unsure about meeting.)
For a flicker of a moment, there’s an unreadable expression on Simon’s face as he watches you touch up your makeup in the hallway mirror and slip your hand into the crook of your date’s elbow at the door. There’s a slight glint of something uncharacteristically cold behind the mask of indifference before a small smile replaces it.
“Have a nice night,” you throw over your shoulder, except you don’t notice that he never says it back.
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You mope around the apartment when Robb—who surprisingly exceeded your expectations of mediocre dates, not that you ever plan on admitting that to Mary—doesn’t reach out to you for three days. Then a week. You’re at that age to understand when people get busy, and a nice night doesn’t always mean it’s mutually reciprocated. But you liked him, and it felt promising after he’d kissed you goodnight against your front door. 
It had to have been the kiss that turned him off. Maybe he realized it was too much too soon.
When Simon finds you curled up in a ball under your comforter, one thumb gently wiping away your tears, he doesn’t even bring up your date. Instead, he orders your favorite take-out and puts on a sitcom you’d mentioned to him once—somewhat surprised that he remembers—the dreamy doctor who’d ghosted you blissfully forgotten with greasy food and a warm, comforting chest to rest your head on.
Simon’s there again—sweets in hand and a soft voice to soothe you—when another date (Rin from finance on your floor) a month later is a no-show, and a few weeks after that when Rin tells you without context that he can’t see you anymore. 
The third time of let downs feels worse. It’s worse because maybe there’s something wrong with you, and when you ask Simon, he’s too nice to rub salt in your wounds. He tells you they’re the problem and leaves it at that before sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of you.
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You've been Simon's roommate for a year, and he doesn't take it well when you tell him you're looking for a new place.
It’s after he comes home from a three-month work trip. The shadow that crosses over his face should’ve been your first hint that something is wrong.
Had you noticed the signs sooner, you wonder if you’d be less like prey caught by the softness of your underbelly, kept in place by the scruff, and sharp teeth at your neck.
"Beg me. Beg me not to cum in you."
"S-Simon," you whimper wetly, "don't cum in—ah—me."
His fingers hold your chin with an unyielding grip, ensuring your gaze doesn’t stray from his in the cracked mirror. You’re embarrassed by what you see, how spread open you are to his dark, inkwell eyes hungrily watching as you twitch when his other hand slides between your thighs.
"Don’t stop begging, love,” he growls, squeezing you tighter, “or I might forget."
There’s that dark look again, the one that sends a shivery feeling up your spine, possessive almost with how he traces every inch of you as if burning the image of you into his memory, the softness washed away by something more sinister. 
A little voice in the back of your head tells you to flee, but another knows he'd find joy in catching you. 
No one would ever think your sweet, attractive roommate would be the same man staring at you now—everything you thought you knew about him stripped away to reveal a new canvas, bare for splashes of paint to fill in the cracks—teeth marks imprinted along the curve of your jaw, on the inside of your thighs.
He hides it well. His humble personality doing the trick of being the impenetrable mask for what he’s concealing underneath: a raw obsession, an addict finally getting his hands on his favorite drug, someone who can’t recognize defeat and knows how to take.
“What do they have that I don’t? Hm? Must be a desperate little thing. My pretty slut,” Simon’s voice rumbles low against your ear, shy of unhinged. “They won’t treat you as good as I do. Don’t I treat you good?”
You whimper when his grip grows tighter, but he doesn’t seem to notice—like he’s not fully here with you. No trace of the soft, gentle man who keeps the freezer full of your favorite ice cream, who runs to the store when you run out of tampons and comes back with chocolate and a new pair of fuzzy socks. A few words have turned him into someone you don’t know. Perhaps you never did.
“Answer me.”
An indiscernible  squeak is the only sound you make. 
He chuckles darkly, his head dipping down to rest his lips against the fluttering pulse in your neck, a finger slipping through the alarming amount of wetness between your thighs where his cock rends you down the middle, and begins rubbing firm, tight circles over your clit, pulling a moan from your throat. 
“It’s okay, love,” he mumbles, words barely audible above your heartbeat swimming in your ears. “I’ll be everything for you. Everything you need. I’ll show you why I’m better.”
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starryjake · 2 months ago
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teddy bear pajamas | l.h
in which heeseung is supposed to be sleeping over with his best friend, jay, but spends the night with jay’s younger sister instead.
pairing: heeseung x fem!reader
warnings: throat fucking, fingering, making out, nipple play, spitting, cum swallowing. (lmk if i missed anything).
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how you were supposed to fall asleep when your brother and his friends were screaming in the other room was beyond you. video games, of course. that was the culprit as to why they were screaming and you were about a minute away from walking into the living room and exploding.
how badly you wanted to go to them and yell at them to shut up.
instead, you chose the mature option. you took a deep breath and decided to yell at your brother over text instead.
you: if you guys don’t shut the fuck up
jay: do i need to remind you that i pay your rent
you sighed. he was right. you felt bad complaining when jay already did so much for you. not only did he pay your rent, but he cooked for you, lended you money when you needed it, and always let you have friends over without complaint.
you: nvm 😁
you turned your phone back off, laying on your side. you pressed a pillow over your ear in hopes to muffle the sounds of the boys yelling, and while it didn’t do much, you were able to fall asleep after a few minutes.
-
you managed to fall asleep for a good two hours before you were awoken again. you expected it to be the boys again, but the apartment you shared with your brother was silent.
suddenly, your phone buzzed. with squinted eyes, you grabbed your phone to check the notification.
it was heeseung, one of jay’s best friends. you knew all of jay’s friends. you practically grew up with them, and some of them you even considered to be your brothers as well.
heeseung: are you awake?
his text woke you up a bit more. you sat up in your bed, wracking your brain as to why he was texting you this late.
you: yeah, why?
heeseung: jay is snoring and i can’t sleep 😣
you: yeah sounds about right
you chuckled to yourself at his dilemma.
heeseung: yeah well i was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie?
heeseung: say yes 🙏
your heart raced. your first instinct was to answer yes in all capital letters, but luckily your brain reminded you how utterly pathetic that would be.
you did not want to mess up and embarrass yourself in front of heeseung.
you: it’s the middle of the night. you’re funny if you think i’m getting out of bed rn
heeseung: well we can watch smth in your bed
you gulped. just the mere idea of having heeseung next to you in your bed, watching a movie together excited you. you didn’t know why. it wasn’t like you liked heeseung or anything, but you always saw him as the coolest out of your brother’s friends. that was why you were always cautious about what you said in front of him and how you presented yourself. you wanted to impress him.
however, he would not be impressed if he were to walk into your bedroom right now and see you in your teddy bear matching set pajamas. he’d probably laugh.
you were already overthinking and you hadn’t even agreed yet.
you: ok fine
heeseung: be right there
now, you deemed, was an appropriate time for the panic to set in. you leapt out of bed and beelined for your closet, rummaging through all your clothes for a more appealing set of pajamas.
unfortunately, you’d underestimated how long it would take for heeseung to walk from jay’s room to yours, and suddenly there was a knock on your bedroom door.
you froze in the doorway of your closet, still wearing your teddy bear printed pajamas.
accepting defeat, you softly called out, “come in.”
the bedroom door opened and in walked heeseung. he was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants, his dark hair slightly tousled from sleep, or attempting to sleep. your knees buckled at the sight of him.
you’d always thought he was cool, and with that, you’d thought he was very attractive too. still, that didn’t mean you had feelings for him.
“hey,” he greeted in that soft voice of his. he quietly shut the door behind him. “cute pajamas.”
your cheeks flushed. you shut your closet door because it was too late to find a different pair of pajamas now.
“thanks,” you muttered.
you grabbed your laptop from off of your desk and trudged back into your bed. you tucked yourself back under the covers and watched heeseung, waiting for his next movement.
he walked over to your bed and climbed underneath the covers like he’d been sleeping there with you for the past year that you lived in the apartment. he scooted in close enough for your arms to be touching. he was so warm, it was hard for you not to lean into his touch.
“what do you wanna watch?” he asked.
“oh, i don’t care,” you said, opening your laptop.
you scrolled through the streaming platform for a bit before you both mutually agreed on a romantic comedy. you started playing the movie, resting the laptop on a pillow between your guys’ legs.
the movie started and it only took a few minutes for your eyelids to begin growing heavy. you would’ve dozed off had it not been the sudden movement from heeseung, who’s hand was suddenly very close to the side of your leg.
your eyes fluttered open. you kept your body very still, unsure whether he meant to put his hand so close or not. either way, you didn’t want to accidentally create an awkward situation.
20 minutes into the movie, heeseung’s hand was painfully slowly shifting it’s way onto your thigh. you were so exhausted you could barely comprehend it, but there was a small part of your brain freaking out, you just kept it all internalized.
“are you tired?” heeseung asked, speaking for the first time since the movie started.
“oh, i’m okay,” you lied.
“are you sure?” he wondered, genuine concern in his voice. “we can turn the movie off if you wanna go to sleep. i can go back to jay’s room.”
the last thing you wanted was for him to leave, especially with how heavy his hand was on your thigh and how it inched further up every minute.
“no, don’t go,” you said, too tired to realize how pathetic you sounded.
heeseung smiled at your words. he squeezed your thigh ever so slightly. your legs instinctively opened slightly, practically inviting him in.
“want me to stay?” he asked, his voice coming out in a whisper.
he was suddenly a lot closer than he was before, so close that you could feel his warm breath hit your face and his body heat radiate from him like a furnace.
you gulped, looking up into his eyes. you’d always loved his eyes, but never had the chance to see them up close like this.
for whatever reason, your half asleep mind told you it was okay to suddenly reach out and brush some of his hair out of his face, exposing more of his pretty face. he smiled at the bold movement from you. it was just the confirmation he needed that you were interested, and so he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.
your eyes fluttered shut and your body shuddered with excitement. heeseung was kissing you. his one hand was gently holding your cheek while the other one stayed planted on your thigh, and he was kissing you.
you glided your fingers through his hair, tugging at the silky strands to express your pleasure. he moaned ever so softly in your mouth, inching his tongue into the mix.
you parted your lips further, leaving enough room for him to slide his tongue all the way in. you rubbed your tongue against his, your hips jutting off the bed in desperation. how embarrassing that you were already getting aroused just by the feeling of his tongue gliding against yours.
heeseung took notice of your desperation, which you were both humiliated and grateful for, as he slid his hand over your front, cupping your clothed pussy.
you clenched your eyes shut harder, whimpering into his mouth as he pushed his fingers against the fabric of your pants, sliding them delicately up and down the length of your pussy. you leaned your head back, disconnecting the kiss, and let out a needy moan.
“shh,” heeseung warned, planting a kiss to the side of your neck. “we don’t need your brother waking up and catching us, do we?”
you rapidly shook your head, sudden fear overcoming you at just the idea of jay catching you in your bed with heeseung. the idea scared you so much that your entire body froze and you stared at heeseung with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights.
“it’s okay,” he cooed. “you can be quiet, can’t you? you’ll be a good girl if i tell you to be, right?”
you gulped. “but what if he—”
“he won’t,” heeseung assured. “you’re always so quiet when you talk, you can be quiet in bed too, yeah?”
you nodded, thinking how it might actually be worth it if jay were to catch you because at least you would’ve been able to say that you’d hooked up with heeseung, a dream of yours for a long time.
“good baby,” he cooed, leaning back in and enveloping your lips in his again.
you fell slack under his touch, sighing in utter contentment. heeseung used the tips of two of his fingers to rub tiny circles where your clit was over your pants. that alone would’ve been enough to make you cum had he done it long enough.
instead, he does it for about a minute before wanting to feel your pussy without any interference. he slid his large hand into your pants and you gasped as his knuckle brushed against your bare pussy. heeseung smirked into the kiss upon feeling how wet you were already.
he took his index finger and gathered all your slick, spreading it around your pussy. you pathetically humped up into his hand, needing more but unable to find the words to ask for it.
“you’re so cute,” he gushed, pressing his forehead against yours. he held close eye contact with you as he slid his middle finger into your fluttering hole, watching your reaction closely. “so warm and wet, baby. is this all for me?”
you whimpered, nodding. he massaged his finger against your walls, stretching you out before he added in his ring finger. the sound of your pussy being fucked open by his two fingers was lewd and humiliating, but it turned heeseung on more than you knew. you couldn’t tell how hard he was, how he was pulsating against his sweatpants.
his palm hit your sensitive clit every time he thrusted his fingers into you. you were already a mess from the sensations, tucking your head into the crook of his neck to hide your embarrassment.
heeseung could feel your legs vibrating. you were so sensitive, he loved it. he wanted to make a complete utter mess out of you, just to see what it looked like. he wanted to see his best friend’s normally composed, shy little sister fall apart beneath him.
so, he sped up his fingers and fucked them into you deeper until he was reaching the spongey part deep inside your pussy. when he found that, you yelped, and he knew it was only a matter of time before you were cumming around his fingers.
when you did cum, your legs locked around his hand. you practically rode his fingers as your orgasm hit you, your fluids leaking down the side of his hand and seeping through your pajama pants.
“fuck,” he grunted just at the sight of you finishing, and how hot you looked.
you raised your head from his neck and looked up at him with glossy eyes and bright red cheeks. your hair was messy, your lips wet and swollen. heeseung could’ve came just by looking at you, you looked so good.
“oh my god,” he muttered. “c’mere, baby.”
his hand pressed against the back of your head, pushing your faces together. he kissed you again, although it was so messy that it could hardly be considered a kiss. he gathered some saliva in his mouth and pushed it into your lips without separating the kiss, and you drank all of what he gave you happily.
he pulled his hand out of your pants, exposing his hand which was covered in your release. he couldn’t decide whether to bring his fingers to his own lips or yours. he was desperate to know what you tasted like, but he also would’ve killed to see you with his fingers in your mouth, licking up your own arousal.
you took the initiative yourself, grabbing his wrist and stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you two moaned at the same time: you from tasting yourself on his fingers and him from seeing you with his fingers in your mouth. he would’ve never guessed you were this dirty, that his best friend’s little sister could be so lewd and needy.
you sat up on your knees once he’d pulled his fingers out of your mouth. finally, you were deciding to pay some attention to his cock, which was aching and he feared that he was so pent up, he might cum the moment you touch it.
luckily, that didn’t happen.
you palmed him over his sweatpants, grinning at how hard he was. you didn’t waste time teasing him over his sweatpants. instead, you knelt between his legs and tugged his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to spring out.
it was lengthy, which intimidated you as it stood straight up right in front of your face. intimidating as it was, you were hungry to taste him, to wrap your lips around his flushed tip and suck every last drop out of him.
heeseung dug his fingers into your hair and watched without allowing himself to blink as you licked his tip like it was a lollipop. you dug the tip of your tongue into his slit, gathering the bead of precum that had gathered there.
heeseung was sensitive. he always had been. he couldn’t help it when he jutted his hips up because it felt too good and he needed more. he needed to feel his cock constricted in the warm wet walls of your throat. he needed to be fucking your mouth like it was your pussy.
he gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail, slowly lifting his hips up and pushing his cock deeper into your cavernous mouth. you allowed him happily, hollowing your cheeks out for added friction.
“you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he grunted, watching in utter fascination as you took his cock in your throat without so much as a gag.
you held onto his sides for leverage, but other than that you showed no sign of struggle. if anything, you only showed signs of enjoying this, of enjoying having his cock thrusting in your throat. you squeezed your legs together, resisting the urge to touch yourself or better yet, hump yourself against his leg.
his thrusts got faster and faster by the second when he saw how unbothered you were. soon enough, his cock was pistoning in your throat and you just took it, drool spilling out the corners of your lips.
heeseung paused his movements to pull your shirt over your head, exposing your chest to him. he reached down and tweaked your nipples between his thumb and index fingers, fucking up into your mouth again.
“oh my god,” he moaned. “you’re a dream. you’re amazing.”
all you could do was hum around him, unable to speak with your mouth occupied. you brought your hand up and fumbled with his heavy balls, massaging them in your palm.
heeseung threw his head back, suddenly holding your head with your nose pressed to his pelvis. his cock twitched once before you felt the first rope of cum hit the back of your throat, followed by many more streams of his sticky white substance.
he moaned loudly, certainly loud enough that jay and any of the other guys would be able to hear and understand what was going on behind your bedroom door. but now, you didn’t care. his moans sounded angelic and you knew it was a sound you wanted to hear again and again.
he didn’t release his grasp on you until he was completely finished dumping his load down your throat. your scalp tingled from the pain when he finally did let you go, allowing you to come up for air.
you swallowed all his release and took a deep breath, both of you calming down.
“holy fuck,” heeseung muttered in a complete daze.
you laid by his side, smiling to yourself. to be frank, you wanted more, but it seemed like heeseung was done. his eyes were closed, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. you would’ve thought he’d fallen asleep had it not been for his next words.
“come here,” he whispered.
you laid your head on his chest, expecting to fall asleep and leave it at that.
until he said, “wanna keep going?”
-
read part 2 here!
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sagelasters · 4 months ago
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barbados is a mindset
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“Yes. You are now in Barbados. And so… you see Barbados, and you see America from Barbados, and you can smell the tropical land of Barbados, see only the little homes of Barbados, and that’s all you do. You just simply sleep this night in Barbados.” - Abdullah tells Neville.
Before Neville Goddard knew of the law and practiced it, his country was plunged in a state of instability. Poverty runs rampant as the global stock market crashes, sparking panic and leaving many penniless. Neville explained the vivid details of homeless people scattered all over tunnels and city square, eyes void of hope for the future. He was unemployed just like millions of others, his career as a dancer wasn’t enough to support his living. Neville lived in a basement for years with little to no income until one day, he met his friend, Abdullah. 
Abdullah was well-off and is the son of the US secretary of the Treasury, who served under the 32nd president. The differences between them were large and Neville was aware of it. He confided in his friend and told him that he has this haunting desire to visit Barbados again. The only thing that was stopping Neville though, was the lack of money. In which Abdullah says, 
“You are in Barbados.”
Of course, Neville thought he was nuts but the man decided to try and assume that he was in Barbados. That night, he went to sleep thinking that he would wake up in Barbados, only to be disappointed that he woke up in the cold basement he called his home. Neville would come back and tell Abdullah that it didn’t work, only for the latter to ignore him. Despite that Neville kept persisting and on the morning of December, he got a letter from his older brother asking him to visit his family in Barbados – his brother had paid a third class ticket. Excited, Neville told Abdullah that he is going to Barbados however, his friend was unimpressed. Abdullah told Neville that he wasn’t boarding a third class ticket, he was going to go there with a first class ticket. 
And guess what? When Neville gave his ticket to the clerk by the desk as they’re checking in passengers, they told him that someone canceled their first class ticket, therefore a spot was available for him. 
Abdullah ignored Neville when he said ‘it didn’t work’ because it did work, if Neville was assuming that he was in Barbados, they wouldn’t be having this discussion about him not being there. What can you take from this story? I would say that unfortunate circumstances don't matter, especially when we see how bad and dire Neville’s financial situation was. Come on, he was in a country torn apart by war and poverty, yet he was still able to visit Barbados. Neville didn’t think of how he’d get there, he just simply assumed that he was there, and his 3D reality follows right after. 
Barbados is a mindset. If you can imagine yourself having it and then accept that it is yours, you’re at the end. Your assumption is the fetus, continue nourishing it with beliefs and affirmations – let that child grow and become. If you drop your assumption that basically means you’re neglecting the fetus, and it will eventually die from starvation. 
It doesn't matter if you have no money, it doesn't matter if you're in an abusive situation, it doesn't matter that you barely have a roof over your head. You are already in Barbados, tune into your inner man and bask in that.
EDIT: My apologies for getting the information mixed up. Abdullah is not the son of US secretary, rather he lived in a house that was rented by the latter. Sorry for the confusion!
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blairelythere · 7 months ago
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I pay $2000 dollars a month to live in a 900 square foot box.
I delivered $120 worth of fast food to an 8 bedroom house in a gated community. In that hour, I earned less than it cost to buy myself a frozen pizza and toilet paper that night.
My account was overdrawn. I was charged $35 for being $2 short.
Didn't have the money to pay for new car tabs when they expired -> $250 dollar ticket.
Rent was submitted by the due date but processed two days after. That was an $180 late fee.
I was discriminatorily fired because my self-harm scars are "triggering to others," and I "abandoned my job" after being harassed about it. Yeah, sorry, you should've stayed in the abusive work environment, bit your lip, and merrily carried on if you didn't wanna be fired. Oh, and also, you don't qualify for unemployment now.
Don't want to have to tell a future employer your dead legal name while job hunting? $200 filing fee, $150 record request, a court hearing, and 3 months of wait time for a name change.
Just reach out to the family that abused you. Reach out to the family that abused you. Reach out to the family that abused you. Reach out to the family that abused you. Reach out to the family that abused you.
Disability payout is awaiting approval. Oh, sorry, the wait time is 6+ months for a response. Yes, we know that you're already legally disabled. Yes, you still have to wait.
Did you miss a credit card payment? Well, shucks, gonna lower that measly score now. Don't worry about how it's a qualifier for apartments, car loans, and mortgages; it certainly won't negatively ripple throughout the rest of your adult life.
I still have my things - my knickknacks and toys. For now. The fact that you haven't sold them is a sign that you simply aren't trying hard enough... did you know that? Times are tough! It's time to sell everything replaceable and irreplaceable. Things are just things, right? You must have nothing left before you truly may have help.
I can't quite capture the feeling I'm feeling.
You must have nothing left.
It's awfully expensive being queer, poor, and alive.
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glow-in-the-dark-death · 6 months ago
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My Sweet Intruder (Sleepwalking Love)
I wanted crack but also fluff, this was the creation. Enjoy!
~
Tim had recently bought a new place to live near a college since he decided to continue his education, the apartment was on the nicer side of things and even though he had gotten it for his civilian life it still had some security on par with his night life safe homes.
All of this to say that it would be hard for someone to break in and even more so to not be noticed.
Which is pretty what he thinks is going on.
Someone is breaking into his house when he's not there which frankly is not that often to begin with since he's so busy with all kinds of things.
But the intruder doesn't seem to be causing harm?
There's nothing damaged or stolen just some food sometimes.
Honestly the complete opposite of what you would expect from an intruder, his apartment was cleaned things were moved around the kitchen was stocked with fresh food and ready meals.
Honestly it took him this long to know something was wrong because he had originally thought it was one of his brothers coming by and helping out or something.
But no after some investigating it wasn't anyone in the family it wasn't even his friends or someone else he knew someone who would make sense as to why this was happening.
Also there appeared to be living there considering all the things appearing around his apartment making a home for themselves that were very much not his.
But the Intruder since he had no name for them was ..considerate?
Almost sweet in a creepy way if you think about it.
His apartment was cleaned he had meals ready for him to eat and a bunch of other small things that combined were making his life easier.
He would like to know who this intruder was but his surveillance and all other tech always died out when it seemed they were there, so no video proof and they always were gone before he could catch a glimpse of even their shadow.
~
Danny was having such a good time, he was honestly a bit worried about moving to Gotham for college especially since apparently his application to live in the dorms had somehow not been processed or something and they only bothered to tell him while he was already there.
Thankfully luck was on his side because only a few hours after that incident while inside a coffee shop stressing about what to do and venting to his sister on the phone a man sitting next to him who looked like he needed a mini coma of sleep and looked kinda high overheard him and offered to be roommates with him since he was also going to the same college.
So yes things were going wonderfully, he had a place to live where he didn't even have to pay rent, and Tim was such a good roommate, he barely saw him but when he did he usually was more asleep then awake.
~
Tim after a while: "Why are there so many spaced themed objects in my apartment?"
~
Tim inviting Danny to live with him
Danny 'What's Stranger Danger?' Fenton: "Bet"
~
Tim: "How do they keep getting past all my security measures?!*pulling his hair out*
Danny using the key sleepwalking Tim gave him: "Home sweet home!"
~
Tim trying his best to catch Danny in person:
Tim sleeptalking:"One day I'll catch him"
Danny who is used to Tim sleep talking and sleep walking helping him get back to bed for the umpteenth time: "You sure will boo!"
~
Danny being grateful that Tim is letting him live there without having to pay rent and gave him a credit card to pay for things: "He's so sweet guys!"
Sam & Tucker: " Dude..is he your sugar daddy?! "
Danny: *shocked Pikachu face* "But there's no sugar involved?"
~
Danny thinking that maybe they are in a relationship just taking it very slowly because Tim's shy
~
Also Danny's love language being acts of service
Tim's love language is coincidentally also acts of service
~
Tim slowly falls in love with Danny still not knowing who he is: "I think I have issues"
Danny still thinking they're in a relationship and that Tim is just super shy: "Maybe we could hold hands soon!" *sappy smile*
~
Tim:
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Danny:
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~
What a story it will be when someone asks them how they got together! (◠‿・)—☆
Just an Idea
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mv1simp · 4 months ago
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inspired by my fav @piastrification thank you for being in my walls 🫶🫶 hope you enjoy!!
Streets ♥️
Max Verstappen x PR Manager!Reader
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we play our fantasies out in real life ways, and no final fantasy, can we end these games, though?
6 months ago, F1 champion Max Verstappen traded in his status as "serious cat dad with road rage issues" for "Genius. Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist". Since then you've been fighting absolute demons as his PR manager to keep his reputation clean in the media. After you tell him you've had enough, he proposes a very interactive solution to your problem.
Content includes: Humour, crackfic, fluff, so much sexual tension, 18+ MDNI, smut, playboy!max, exasperated manager! reader, a very well rounded fic for once?! 4.7k WC
If someone asked you where it’d all gone downhill, you’d have to say it started because of that greedy paparrazi rat Henri - photographer at the MonacoDaily, otherwise known as every PR manager’s sleep paralysis demon. Because this particular paparazzo had a nasty knack for capturing celebrities just as they made the most atrocious decisions known to mankind. And he had an even nastier knack for threatening to sell said photos to the highest bidder. Truly, it was a dark day for any media team when they were forced to bargain with such a foul demon, who’d be able to go toe to toe with the likes of Satan himself.
So when your phone dinged at 5am on a peaceful Sunday morning, only to reveal the 7th (7th!!) message this month from the very same greedy little rat, you threw it across the room. Only to then remember you devastatingly had not been born into a Dubai oil family and you needed this job to pay Monaco rent. The text turns out to be a photo of your aggravating client - Max Verstappen, F1 champion driver, loving father to two cats, and more recently, certified manwhoreTM. He’s living upto your nickname for him, pictured in some nightclub with a half naked blonde sitting on his lap. Alright, alright, not as bad as you were expecting, you could even photoshop the girl’s hair colour to match his current girlfriend’s one maybe? Well, except the brunette woman glaring behind him is his current model girlfriend of the month. You hear a ding, another text from Henri - this time with just a 😈 and 💸👀. You throw the phone back against wall.
Three hours later you’ve cleaned up the PR nightmare and are banging on Max’s apartment door. He blearily lets you in, shirtless and still looking half drunk, but you don’t hesitate to yank him by his beltloops and drag him to the dining table (after quickly checking out that broad chest of his, though, cause goddamn. You’re just a girl.)
Ow, ow, what the hell, Max groans as he’s shoved into a chair. Please. As if you could do any real damage in your 5 foot frame to the 6 foot driver. Slamming your hands on the table for some dramatic flourish (you’re never beating the theatre kid allegations) you give the Dutchman a piece of your mind, demanding to know what his problem is, does he know how many people you’ve had to bribe this month to stop #SluttyMaxEra trending on twitter?? And yes, you know he broke up with Kelly 10 months ago but can’t he just process this healthily and go to therapy instead of having a hoe phase and hooking up with every third woman in Monaco?
Max looks insulted at this slight to his honor. He retaliates by accusing you of buying into the patriarchy and slut shaming him (-That’s not how that works but pop off king, is your deadpan response), and telling you he’s very much over Kelly, okay, it was an amicable breakup (-Sure, Verstappen, that’s why you’d only played Lana Del Ray for a whole month afterwards, huh?) and well, what’s the issue, he’s a hot and rich guy in Monaco, it’s not his fault women just want him? Would it not be #misogynistic of him to deny women the opportunity to explore their sexuality?! He smirks, pleased with his defence.
You groan, slumping down on a chair and burying your face in your hands, muffling your groan of wholesome cat dad Max comeback whennn. Max rolls his eyes at your theatrics, asking if you’d finally lost the plot.
You try cleaning up the PR messes you’ve been making, Max Emilian, you hiss furiously, remember Ibiza? Santorini? The goddamn yacht party over summer break when he got with the captain and her deputy?! (Even now, thinking of that leaking online gives you heartburn.)
Which yacht, Max says cockily, the one where he got with them one after another or at the same time?
Your jaw drops. You hadn’t even known about the threesome, so you suppose you should be grateful that wasn’t another mess to clean up. But a deeper, insecure part of you can’t help but wonder why the only woman Max doesn’t seem to want is you.
And sometimes you can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be one of his girls, under his strong body for once instead of on the other side of his hotel wall, having to drown out the very satisfied female moans and headboard bangs with noise cancelling headphones. Like always, you push that thought down quickly.
You, good sir, are for the streets, you announce, standing up and deciding it was time to leave before your delulu, jealous thoughts decided to resurface. Seriously, you mutter under your breath, you didn’t care if his current side quest was to fuck 10 times a week, but could he at least stick to one person for a bit and not make more work for you-
Max’s hand slams the front door back closed as you started to open it. You freeze, turning back to look at him smirking down at you. You hadn’t expected him to follow you down the hallway and you gulp nervously for the safety of your job - you might have taken the roasting a bit too far.
Instead, you get a sly, Oh, so I can do whatever I want, wherever I want, just with one person?
At your awkward nod, because yes, that would significantly ease your workload, he continues, enjoying teasing his uptight, pretty manager - then were you gonna offer yourself up? After all, there’s no PR messes to find out about if it’s you, right?
You blink at Max, completely stunned by the 180 this conversation has taken. Your expression is so adorable that he couldn’t resist a you’re so cute when you’re acting all jealous, you could’ve just asked if you wanted him to fuck you, ya know?
That promptly reminds you you’re dealing with an an absolute manwhore. RIP celibacy era Max, you’ll always be famous.
Um, absolutely fucking not, keep your STDs to yourself, you hiss, flushing head to toe, and furious at the desire in you to give into the devilish proposal. He encourages you to think about it, still smirking, relaxing his grip so you can mercifully flee far away from his intense gaze. Jesus, when did he learn to rizz a girl up like that?!
You don’t take his proposal seriously at all, ignoring his cocky looks at you over meetings all week (also, he’d texted you his clean STD result to assure you he was a #SafeSexKing.) But that weekend, your refusal comes back to haunt you when you’re on a well deserved night out with your girlfriends and your PR manager senses start going off. You narrow your eyes as you spot Max in the dark corner of the nightclub, hands all over a mystery redhead. She’s not going to be a mystery much longer though - if you’d spotted them it was a matter of time before fan’s phones did and then you’d wake up to another goddamn text from your sleep paralysis demon, Henri.
You don’t even have to think about it twice. Saying goodbye to your friends, you’re at Max’s side at a very impressive speed given your 6 inch stilettos and tight sparkly minidress, and once again dragging him off by the beltloops and into an open bathroom.
He lets you yank him away, smirking when he sees you lock the door for good measure. Sweetheart, he greets. So good to see you. Finally realised you couldn’t resist me?
You practically climb him like a tree while telling him to shut the fuck up and pay attention at media training day next time, because what kind of PR crisis did he have unfolding out there? And just this once you’ll help him out, you say breathlessly in between deep kisses, but this isn’t a regular thing -
There’s not much more talking from you because he has you moaning up against the wall next, fingers buried inside your tight little pussy as he talks you through an orgasm, and then another when he splits you in half on his cock. (Once again, manwhore, who carries a condom in their jean pockets?!)
Unfortunately for your self control but very fortunately for your sex life, it is not in fact, a “one time thing”. Your trusty rose vibrator is glad for the break as you’d been taking your year long frustrations at your dry spell out on her. Especially when coming home after staying in hotels where you’d had to book out rooms neighbouring Max’s, so no one else overheard the raunchy vocals of different women every night.
Like Max said, with you, there were no more illicit PR messes to find out about in the middle of the night. You’d redirect him everytime he gave you bedroom eyes (At the pre race debrief. Post race debrief. Weekly team plan meeting. Over zoom calls? Seriously?) - gently taking his large hand and guiding him to a much more hidden, PR crisis-friendly area. To your surprise, Max actually sticks to his word and only hooks up with you - admittedly, multiple times a week (Not that you’re complaining. Turns out he was just as good in bed as he was on the track. Except this time he was definitely not finishing first...)
And for a while, everything is going well. There are no more weekly scandals scattered across trashy celeb magazines about Max. Your boss is gushing with praise, so impressed that you’ve finally managed to talk some sense into Redbull’s problem child (ah, if only she knew, but she never would, because the goddamn CIA couldn’t torture this info out of you) and best of all, you haven’t gotten a text from papparazzi rat Henri in weeks!
So of course, Max Verstappen decides that things are getting just a little bit too quiet for his liking, you had to earn your generous PR manager salary, that he paid for, right? His new, numerous tactics to stir the pot had included:
Going to clubs with no private bathrooms so you’d had to sit on his lap in the VIP lounge as he pulled your panties to the side to slide into you, barely hidden under your flimsy dress. You’d held back your moans and prayed the bass was too loud for anyone to hear
Sitting right next to you at every team dinner or business meeting so that he could sneak a large hand up your thigh and tease your pussy for fucking hours, often just as you were about to speak. And when you’re clenching the table so hard your fingers were white, he’s bending under the table to pick up a pen or something but instead left teasing licks and kisses on your aching core. You'd learnt very quickly not to wear a skirt.
Picking you up in his 2 seater Aston Martin instead of the much more appropriate discreet, spacious, 5 seater Audi he owned - so when he was too pent up after a bad practise session to wait till he got home, he'd get you to go down on him right there in the car, sometimes even as he drove, instead of parking in some hidden backstreet. It was so dirty, that he needed you so desperately that he didn't care about being caught by anyone peeking in through the half tinted windows. Because if they did look, they’d find his head thrown back in pleasure as he moans, his fingers tangled in your curls as he moved your drooling, pink lips up and down his wide cock-
Anyways, you get the picture. And he’d escalated this all the way to the paddock, which was insane because there were always multiple cameras trained on the current F1 champion. It’s the one place you two couldn’t sneak off without a very high risk of being caught, as evidenced by the one and only time he'd managed to get under your skin in the garage. He'd had you pinned up against the wall in some narrow side hallway as he whispered how fucking sexy you’d looked today, wearing his hoodie to cover up the hickies you hadn’t realized you’d woken up with and paired with some tiny denim shorts. Having the 6 foot champion huskily groan that he couldn’t focus on his free practise everytime you bent over to pet a passing dog, or when you innocently sucked on the Redbull flavoured lollipops and then the goddamn ice cream from the truck they’d brought in - was quite the power trip, you admit. So you guided his lips from your neck as he tries to add to the growing bruises on your neck and redirected him to your waiting lips instead, steamily making out as his large hands squeezed your thick ass like he’d been thinking about all day-
Max?!?
You instantly pull back from the driver and turned to see a flabbergasted looking GP - Max’s race engineer. His jaw is wide open as he looked at you two with round eyes. You’re fumbling to explain, trying and failing to push Max back - who looks rather annoyed at the intrusion and semi-glares at GP with narrow eyes. You hiss at the younger man to stop being rude and slip underneath his arms, going over to guiltily apologise to GP only to be met with You too?! How did he get you in his bed, you hated how much of a slut he was! Seriously, does he have a magical dick? Now you stare at GP in shock, unsure of how to respond to his question while Max starts laughing behind you. You make him join you as you promise to GP that he will never have to witness this again, because there will be no unprofessional behaviour of any sort on the paddock after "BootyShorts Gate" as you thereafter dub the incident. Regardless, GP still shoots you both wary glances and begins the habit of announcing his arrival and waiting 10 seconds before turning a corner in the garage, earning him many an odd look. Dramatic, really, was this where Max gets it from?
Max, of course, was very displeased with this new “professionalism” rule you'd set down - on the paddock was when he'd get the most tense, the most horny and desperate to have you underneath him, after all - and he made sure you knew it. You deliberately ignored his heated gaze on you as you interviewed him, or his lingering touches when he helped you hold your microphone up to his much taller frame, large hand wrapped around your small ones clutching the mic. Or his recent favourite, which involved standing next to you to help pick out the insta pics post-race (something he'd notoriously always hated to do) - except now, he conveniently happened to be shirtless, his toned abs and broad shoulders on display, running a hand through his sweaty tousled hair.
This last seduction tactic had sent you fleeing to Checo's garage to seek out the other Redbull driver's PR manager and beg on your knees for a client swap, surely, the sponsor benefits are legendary for whoever Max's PR manager is -
Nope. Nuh uh, no way, Checo is the breeziest driver ever to look after. The other manager pauses. Well, except for the occasional political military coup scandal in Mexico. But still, I'd take that any day over El Manwhore.
You wailed at whatever Gods had decided to curse you and took matters into your own hands, furiously plotting up social media campaign idea after idea that were exactly the kind of thing Max hated with a burning passion - hoping it would get him to back off on his tactics and wave a white flag. From viral TikTok challenges, to making him read all his cringe 2008 tweets, and even making him play fuck, marry, kill with the drivers of the grid. You'd admit, that last one had been rather funny to watch, making you chuckle as you scrolled through the comments, liking "Can't believe we got Max Verstappen saying he would fuck Lewis, kill Pierre and marry Charles before GTA 6" and "does Redbull admin know she posted this on main?!"
But despite your best efforts, it didn't seem to deter Max. If anything, he'd begrudgingly do the task and end up laughing excitedly at you - who was holding the camera - about some joke or the other and make your stupid heart flutter. You knew you definitely should not be catching feelings for your client - who'd made it very clear his interest in you was only physical. But no one needed to know that sometimes you’d log into your fake account to like the "Who got max giggling and kickin his feet and shii?" comments.
Meanwhile, Max had caught wind of your desperation for an escape attempt with Checo’s manager and had upped the ante. He slyly mentioning to Christian Horner than you were doing such a great job as his PR manager, could he pretty please have you promoted to his general manager for his non racing publicity too?
And that's how you found yourself at a Dior Sauvage photoshoot, despite your adamant protests to Horner. You were putting your Masters of Business Adminstration, first class honours, to fantastic use by babysitting a 26 year old child who liked fast cars that went vroom vroom. The only redeeming factor is that you can leave the unflattering Redbull shirt at home since this wasn't for F1 publicity and instead wear a nice outfit for once. Still, you thought it was odd that Max had so easily accepted this campaign, as he wasn't normally one to enjoy doing PR.
A few minutes later you've figured out exactly why your favourite manwhore had agreed to this campaign, because he's grinning at you while posed shirtless, toned abs and broad shoulders all on display as some pretty, busty model is draped over him. The photographer is making this even more painful for you by dragging out the shoot, making Max and the model reposition herself multiple times. You roll your eyes at the scene, because obviously they're two very attractive people who will look good together no matter what, did the photographer really need to be so extra? You stalk off at some point to make yourself a hot chocolate in the hopes it'll sooth the flames of jealousy that are threatening to consume you right now. Max approaches you when a break is called, running a teasing hand along your waist from the back and whispering you looked so fucking hot in this tight maxi dress, making you nervously look around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, all the staff appeared busy and didn’t look in the dim corner you'd settled into to do paperwork. You hiss at him to keep your hands to yourself, Verstappen making him grin and inform you that's not what you’d said last night, in fact, you were practically begging for him to do the exact opposite-
You're glaring up at him, seriously contemplating if it’s worth breaking your contract clause to "act in the client's best interests" and mauling him with your laptop when the photographer comes up to you both with narrowed eyes. You guiltily step back, thinking he overhead Max's suggestive comments, but instead he just looks back and forth between you two contemplatively. Then, just as you were about to ask him what the issue was, he announces that you'd be replacing the model as the female for the shoot. No questions asked! he announces as you try to protest and snaps his fingers at the makeup and wardrobe artists to demand they sort you out (he gestures rather dramatically to your whole figure when he says this, making you scowl).
So that's how you find yourself dressed in a silky gold minidress with a sultry eye look, pressed up against Max's broad chest and trying not to focus on the intimate position you two are in. Max, however, has no such qualms about the position, using it to tease you further. You've been looking extra tense lately, sweetheart, he breathes, those devilish lips brushing past your ear. I know a great way to make you relax? You growl at him to shut the fuck up because oh my god, did he know how many cameras are pointed at you both right now? Besides, you mutter under your breath, it seemed like he was very interested in relaxing with that blonde model earlier.
Fighting to keep the smug look of his face, Max whispers back that there was No need to be jealous, schatje, you were the only one getting access to his magical dick. So caught up in the game you two are playing, you don't even register the photographer excitedly snapping up pictures, proclaiming that he knew it, the chemistry between these two is unbelievable!
Afterwards, as you're walking off the photoshoot, feeling all hot and bothered from Max's hands running across your exposed skin, shamelessly looking you up and down, the blonde Dutchman catches up to you. He teases you that you were going to get wrinkles at 25 if you didn't stop scowling all the time. I'm older than you, you scoff back, by a whole 6 months, in fact, so maybe you should actually listen to me for once instead of pissing me off? No problem, Max agrees, after all, he's always had a thing for MILFs. You can't help snort at his retort and then start laughing when he tries to maintain an innocent look. At least you were away from the cameras in case someone heard this, you mused.
Unfortunately, you both don't notice MonacoDaily's ratbag paparrazo, Henri, hiding in nearby shrubbery with his camera. It had been far too long without a Verstappen news scandal, he thought with a satisfied smirk as he clicked away.
And later than night, after you'd eaten the chicken stir fry he'd cooked and rewatched Cars 2 (a surpassingly more regular occurrence, these days, to unwind with him at the end of the day instead of immediately being mauled the second you stepped foot in his apartment) you made sure he followed your orders for once. Sitting him back, telling him just how bad he'd been today with all his teasing (-well, it worked, didn't it, sweetheart?) you showed him just how good you were at playing the game, too. And soon, he was breathlessly moaning underneath you as you rode him for the first time, gripping his cock like you were going to milk every last drop, teasing him with just enough pace to get him worked up but not enough to send him over the edge. And you only let him cum inside you when he begged you sweetly, making you go fuzzy at the sight of the infamous Redbull playboy being so desperate for you, and only you.
Afterwards, once you've shampooed each other's hair in the shower while gossiping about how catty that makeup artist had been, really, to imply that your pretty curls had been the problem and not her shitty styling? and Max has got you spooned against him, warm in an old hoodie of his, pressing a goodnight kiss to your forehead, you can't control the warmth blossoming in your chest any longer. And as a content sleep takes a hold of you, you can't help but wonder if Max's affections went beyond physical attraction, just like yours’ were now doing.
It turned out the opportunity to find out this answer would come the very next day, when the ding of your phone wakes you up in the early hours of the morning. It’s a very specific sound that you've set for a certain ratbag - and you get war flashbacks, hearing it now after so long. Scrambling off the bed, ignoring Max's muffled groans as you shove his heavy arm of you, you unlock your phone and gasp in horror as your suspicions are confirmed. Henri has arisen from the ashes and this time it's to deliver his sauciest scandal yet. Because a picture tells a 1000 words, sure, but he has the two of you on a goddamn video, flirting and giggling at each other as you exited the studio yesterday. There's no chance of you talking your way out of this one, as Max's large palm wanders to give your thick ass a firm squeeze as he guides you into his passenger seat. Goddamn, you knew you shouldn't have worn that tempting skims maxi dress - Max was an ass (and tits) man who couldn't be trusted to control himself in public. BTW already sold this 🥸 Henri texts. Just a courtesy FYI cuz I brought a boat with the bag from this one ✌️
You contemplate if it would be better to disappear off the face of the planet, or get plastic surgery to become unrecognisable as you chug your morning Redbull while moodily looking over the Monaco sunrise. Max joins you after a few minutes, looking extremely cute as he rubs the sleep out of his baby blue eyes and asks you what's wrong, schatje.
Taking a deep sigh (like you said, #DramaKid), you break the news. I’m going to hold your hand while I say this (- that’s really not necessary, Max interrupts) - but you know celibacy exists, right? As does having sex in a private location without the risk of being arrested for public indecency?
True, Max agrees, but what was the fun in that? Besides, you were just too hot to resist. Ignoring the butterflies at his cheesy flirting, you hold up the incriminating video on your phone as proof that it was not all fun and games, as Henri had already sold this to multiple news outlets this morning, you inform glumly. Max is strangely silent, looking intently at the video and even replaying it a few times, his eyes crinkling as a soft smile appears on his face when he hears the sound of you two laughing. Then - in a truly unbelievable redemption arc plotline from the Monaco playboy - he asks if it would be so terrible, to have this made public, to let the world know that you were together?
Well, I - you stumble over your words, - I dunno, I thought you liked that? Keeping it secret cause you just wanted a convenient hook up?
Max is silent again. Then, looking uncharacteristically nervous, he says that's not what he wants, not really, not anymore - not since he'd fallen in love with you, somewhere along the 3 months of the friends with benefits/PR manager and her problematic client situationship you’d had. And like at the very start, you don’t even need to think about it twice. This time when you shyly smile and kiss him, you make sure he can feel your love through it and know that you wanted more, too.
So you walk into work that morning, holding hands in open defiance, ready for the world to see. You’re rather confused when no one seems to be paying much attention, instead frantically trying to get the set up ready for the pre race testing. Maybe you two had not been as indiscreet as you thought and people already suspected? Or maybe you both had a penchant for drama and thought you were the main characters when you clearly were not?
You look at each other, shrug, and you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’ll see him for lunch at the kebab shop on the corner, before he wanders off to the garage. Maybe Henri had a change of heart and decided not to exploit innocents for fame and money, you ponder hopefully. Maybe there truly was good in the world, after all.
And then you hear your name being called and turn to see your boss standing behind you menacingly, hands on hips. Care to explain why #MaxLovesMILFS is trending right now?
Somewhere along the Monaco waterfront, a paparazzi rat skulking in the bushes sneezes.
—————————————————————————
A/N: again thank you so much to @piastrification for inspiring this piece!! So sorry for the delay and I hope you enjoy my attempt at branching out to other fics xx tysm to you all for the requests, I am working them into my upcoming fics!! 💖
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junkissed · 6 months ago
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bad neighbor
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member — neighbor!dino x f reader genre — smut, college au word count— 6.3k synopsis — pros of living next door to a frat house: your neighbor is really really hot. cons of living next door to a frat house: probably everything else. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, fingering, lots of making out, facial (cum on face), semi public sex (hooking up at a party) content warnings — slightly introverted!reader, chan is in college but reader isn't: can be interpreted as older!reader but that's up to you tbh, mentions of weed & alcohol (chan & reader are both sober), cameos from cheol & hoshi hehe notes — thanks again to @onlymingyus for helping me get my brain in order <3 please reblog or send an ask if you enjoyed reading!! it means a lot to me and it helps me continue writing :) i hope you like this fic!
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it's still early in the evening when the music starts.
the sound of voices and cars honking outside your house draws your attention away from the latest episode of your favorite new show. you get up and walk over to the window, peeking out through the curtain at the bright headlights beaming at you.
with a sigh you push the curtain closed again, heading into the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. if tonight is like any of the other nights, then it'll be a long time before you fall asleep. hopefully the chamomile will help—is what you tell yourself every time. and every time, it doesn't help.
living in the same neighborhood as the frat houses from the nearby state university was certainly a choice, but the rent in the area was the cheapest in town and you didn't have many options left. with the fall semester coming up fast, every other apartment complex and condo in the city was already rented out. after moving in, you'd quickly discovered why the rent was so cheap: not because the house was in bad condition or because the location was inconvenient, but because of the parties. nearly every fucking night.
you might actually be impressed at how these college kids find the energy to party so often, if you weren’t so fed up with them. every friday and saturday night, and even sometimes during the week, at least one house on your block was throwing some kind of wild party.
by now you'd seen it all: drunk girls throwing up on your lawn, shirtless guys doing keg stands in the middle of the cul-de-sac, people making out literally everywhere. and yes, including that one time on halloween when you found two playboy bunnies having sex with spider-man in your backyard. how they got back there was anybody's guess, but from then on you’d started double and triple checking that your back gate was locked every night. 
tonight, it seemed that the festivities were being hosted at the house across the street. and the man behind it all? none other than lee chan, president of the fraternity and owner of the house.
you'd only officially met him twice, once on the day you'd moved in and once the day after. his red honda had pulled into his driveway at the same time you were unloading your boxes from the u-haul, and he'd jumped out and offered to help carry your furniture inside.
at the time it had felt like this was finally your meet-cute moment, the friendly and unfairly attractive boy-next-door that sweeps you off your feet with love at first sight. but once the final box had been moved, he'd simply given you a smile and a wave and went back inside his house. no cute bonding, no exchanging phone numbers, no asking to see each other again. he just left.
of course, that had been before you found out about the parties, and the shock you were in for that same night when people had started showing up in droves had nearly led you to call the cops. so the next morning you'd put on a nice outfit and went to knock on his door, and it was then that you found out more about the neighborhood you'd found yourself living in.
with the same polite tone he'd used yesterday, he'd been friendly and apologetic for the noise, promising that he'd make sure everyone stayed on his side of the lawn and that no one disturbed you or your house. he'd explained that it wasn't a quiet neighborhood, no matter the time of year, but repeated that if anything happened he would take full responsibility for it. he said that you were welcome to come over any time, whether you needed something or you just wanted in on the fun.
you'd taken his word for it, sheepishly waving goodbye as you crossed the sidewalk between your houses, though you figured you would probably never set foot inside his house while there was a party going on. and as you’d walked away, you had tried to ignore the feeling of your heart fluttering with the beginnings of a crush on your neighbor.
tonight, however, your heart was doing anything but fluttering. music blasted outside, definitely a lot louder than usual, and the sound of car engines revving was already getting on your nerves.
you dunk your tea bag into the boiling water at the same time a loud banging on your door makes you jump, and you narrowly avoid spilling it all over yourself and the counter.
quietly you rush over to the door, looking out the peephole to see a group of people carrying cases of beer, looking around at your front porch.
before you can figure out how to react, you hear someone yell something distantly and the group turns around in the direction of the sound.
"shit, wrong house," one of the guys says loudly. "sorry, whoever lives here! have a good night!" he calls as they walk away, the others laughing over a joke you can't hear. 
with the crisis averted, you head back into the kitchen and pull the tea bag out of your mug, chucking it into the trash with a huff. full responsibility, your ass. 
and then… you have an idea. 
chan had been so insistent that you could come over if you ever needed anything, so you might as well take advantage of his offer. because tonight you did, in fact, need something. you needed the party to not be so goddamn loud that you can literally feel your living room floor vibrating beneath your feet.
you stick your mug in the microwave to reheat later and quickly change out of your pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. presentable enough that you don’t embarrass yourself, yet comfortable enough that you don’t feel so awkward.
with a deep breath, you pull open your front door, keys tightly in hand as you lock it behind you and start making your way across the street.
you're almost at chan’s front door when a man steps in front of you out of nowhere, stopping you short. "hey, here for the party?" he asks, holding up his hand for a high-five.
"um… kinda," you say, lightly tapping his hand. you figure he must be the bouncer of some sort, from his friendly yet confident no-nonsense attitude and the way his thick biceps strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt. "i'm looking for lee chan, he owns the house?"
"gotcha," he nods. "gotta check your age before i let you in, though."
you pause, his words sinking in as you realize why he's asking. "oh, sorry, i didn't think i'd need my id," you apologize. "but i live next door, my driver's license is just in my wallet, i can go grab—"
"are you over 21?" he interrupts, and you frown at the question.
"uh, yes?"
"cool. head on in, then," he says.
you look at him suspiciously. "you're sure you don't need to see my id? what if i was lying?"
"dino will probably be downstairs, his room is the door at the end of the hallway on the left," he says, pointedly ignoring your questions. "and while you're down there, tell him cheol sent you. ask him to grab another beer for me."
he waves towards the open front door, and hesitantly you make your way inside. you have no idea who the hell dino is, and you can only hope it's just a nickname of some kind and the man you're about to go find isn't some stranger.
the second you set foot inside the doorway, it's like entering a completely different world. the air is stale and humid, clinging to your skin as you push through a crowd of what must be hundreds of people packed like sardines into every corner of the room.
the music gets louder the further inside the house you go, and you have to focus on repeating cheol's instructions in your head so you don’t get lost in the maze of hallways and doors. downstairs, end of the hallway, left. 
you soon find out where the music is coming from. unlike the normal house lights on the first floor, downstairs everything is dark except for colorful flashing led lights around the room. a man stands on top of a table between two huge speakers as people crowd around him, jumping and shouting lyrics to the song that’s playing.
there’s so many people that you have to push your way through the crowd, but most of the people around you either don’t notice or are too drunk to care. but finally, you make it to what looks like the hallway that the man outside—what was his name, cheol?—told you about.
you open the first door on your left and find four people sat quietly on the floor passing around a bong, a thick cloud of smoke hanging over the room. all four of them look over at you at the same time, glazed eyes silently asking who the hell are you?.
"sorry, wrong room," you squeak, slamming the door and retreating back into the hallway as you try your best not to step on anyone's feet.
with a deep breath you crack open the door directly beside the one you'd just opened and poke your head inside, and relief washes over you when you see chan inside.
he's sitting on a couch with a couple girls sitting next to him and a guy slumped against his shoulder, eyes closed and brows furrowed.
he looks up when the door opens, and a look of shock spreads over his face when he recognizes you. he calls your name and you step inside tentatively, saying his name in response. "chan?"
"close the door behind you," he says, and you jump to turn around and shut it with a click. he must notice you standing like a deer in headlights, because he motions you closer to him with a friendly smile. "sorry," he explains. "people will think it's an open room if you leave the door open. i don't want anybody in here without a reason to be."
you nod, but your eyes dart over at the girls sitting beside chan. he makes eye contact with them and clears his throat, and without a word they stand up, understanding the message.
he helps the man laying against him sit up, then helps him stand up and hands him off to the others. "don't let hoshi drink anything else tonight except water, okay? keep an eye on him until your driver shows up."
they nod and slip their arms around their friend, helping him stumble out of the room as he grumbles about something incoherent. "thanks, dino," one of them says with a little wave. "see you monday for that bio test."
the girls open and shut the door quickly, suddenly leaving you alone with him in the room.
"hi," you start, not knowing what else to say. it's been such an ordeal just trying to find him that you've almost forgotten why you came searching for him in the first place.
"hi," he repeats with a laugh. "honestly, i never thought i'd see you here. you don't seem like the type. so, what brings you over tonight?"
"you've only met me twice, how would you know what i seem like?" you reply defensively, thought he's spot on. this is not your usual scene at all, and you’re sure that anyone at this party who’s even a smidge sober must be able to tell how out of place you look.
he shrugs, patting the couch seat next to him. "alright, fair point. come sit down."
you carefully take a seat, purposefully avoiding eye contact with the collection of ambiguous stains on the couch cushions.
"oh, before i forget. somebody named cheol told me to tell you he wants a beer?" you say awkwardly, relaying the message.
"bastard," chan mutters, but he's smiling, and you assume the guy you met earlier is a friend of his. "fine, i'll grab him something when i go back outside." pausing, he turns his attention back to you. "but really, why are you here? i don't wanna make any assumptions, but i doubt it's for the free alcohol."
"if i was, you'd have to tell me where to find it," you say with a shrug, and he laughs but stays quiet for you to finish.
you fold your hands together nervously. "anyway, i just came over to ask—could you maybe turn the music down, like, just a tiny bit? and also… can you tell people to stop having sex in my yard?"
he winces and gives an apologetic smile. "yeah, of course. sorry about that. i told vernon to keep it down, but you know how he gets when he's…" he stops as if he’s just realized something. "nevermind. i'll go let him know right now. do you wanna come with, or you wanna stay here?"
"no offense, but i'd rather not go back out there," you laugh awkwardly. “it was bad enough just trying to find you in the first place.”
"all good," he replies with that friendly smile of his. "it's not for everyone, that's for sure. just make sure the door stays closed, and you'll be fine in here by yourself. shouldn't take too long."
he opens the door and slips out, slamming it closed behind him. you sit unmoving on the couch, finally glancing at your surroundings.
unlike the first room, the air here is fairly clean, other than the faint smell of alcohol and weed wafting in from under the door. you realize this must be chan's actual bedroom, when you see the posters that cover the walls and the bookshelf full of knick-knacks and textbooks.
you start to wonder who else lives in this house, but soon the door opens again and chan returns, the sound of voices and music flooding in while the door is open but quickly falling quieter once the door is shut again.
"alright, he'll keep it down. i'm sorry about the noise," he apologizes again, but you wave him off, suddenly feeling shy around him. with him still standing and you still sitting, he towers over you in a way that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter back to life.
"no, it's fine. really, it's not that big of a deal," you rush, trying to ignore the growing feeling in your chest. was he always this hot? for the first time tonight you notice how his blonde hair falls in waves around his face, perfectly framing his soft features.
he shakes his head. "really, i mean it. vernon will make sure it doesn't get out of hand, he’s good at that. i can't exactly give you a quiet evening, but i can give you the best i've got."
you take a deep breath and stand up. you're already way outside of your comfort zone even just coming to this party, but maybe this experience hasn't been all that bad. after all, you got to see chan again, and you got to exchange more than a handful of words with him like you did all the other times you’d met him.
"well… what is the best you've got?" you ask him, and you almost see him raise an eyebrow.
he puts his hands in his back pockets, pausing for a second as he looks at you. "mm, best i've got? probably this room. my room. quietest in the house, and nobody will come in to bother us."
your heart races as you take a small step towards him, standing close to him but still keeping some distance between you.
"so does this mean you're not leaving?" he asks when you don’t say anything, just barely loud enough for you to hear him.
"do you want me to stay?"
he takes a step closer to you. "only if you stay with me."
"do you say that to all the people you bring in here?" your question is joking, but a part of you still worries that he thinks you're just another girl at the party looking for a one night stand. though honestly, you wouldn't even really mind if that's all this was. hell, maybe all the secondhand smoke is getting to your head and clouding your judgement, because hooking up with your neighbor seems like a pretty fantastic idea right now.
"the only time i let people in my room is to let them use my bathroom and to make sure they don't die of alcohol poisoning," he says in a low tone, a little laugh escaping him. "and now, i guess i let my hot neighbor in here, too."
"you think i'm hot?" you ask, taking another small step forward.
he matches your stride, taking one last step towards you so that you're finally standing toe to toe with him. "i'd be an idiot not to."
"but how would you know, if we've only met twice?"
he laughs. "well, you had just moved in. i wasn't gonna hit on you when you hadn't even finished unpacking your furniture yet."
"so you did want to hit on me, then," you say confidently, straightening up a little.
“did i ever say i didn't?” he rests his hands on your hips and gently pulls you towards him, closing the last of the distance between you. his eyes never leave your face, gauging your reaction and looking for any hesitation.
you wrap your arms around him and lean forward, a smile on your lips. "good to know."
he leans in the rest of the way and presses his mouth against yours, and everything else just falls into place. your hands reach up to find his hair, threading your fingers through his blond waves and tugging experimentally, and when he lets out a little noise of pleasure you kiss him harder.
the noise of the party fades into the background as his hands slide down your body to grip your ass, and you can’t help the little moan that escapes as he starts to back you up against the wall. his hands stay put, kneading your ass as you try to keep your legs from giving out already. it’s painfully obvious how bad you want him, but it’s equally obvious how he feels the same way.
“fuck, been dreaming about this since the day you moved in,” chan says, pulling away from you with a shaky breath as your fingers tug at the hem of his t-shirt. 
he pulls it off over his head before leaning over to kiss you again, his tongue tracing over your lips. he’s good at this; not like you’re surprised by it or anything, but it still catches you off guard.
he seems to be able to sense the tiny bit of lingering hesitancy, so he breaks apart from you but still keeps his arms firmly around you, loosening his grip just a little. “is this okay?” he asks in a low voice, but you can hear the concern laced in it.
you nod quickly, tugging your shirt off quickly and letting his hands settle at your hips before you pull him back closer. you never do this. maybe you really had inhaled too much secondhand smoke on the way in and you aren’t thinking straight. but deep down, you know that’s not the case. 
as much as you hate to admit it, your harmless crush on your neighbor has grown into something much, much more. you can’t say you’ve never been a little jealous when you see girls leaving his house on sunday mornings after parties. you can’t say you’ve never let your eyes linger a few seconds too long when he goes out to check the mail and he’s wearing that tight black tank and thin silver chain he never takes off.
or the fact that he works out in his garage with the door open, and you aren’t really purposefully trying to look but it’s not your fault that your window just happened to be open. and it wasn’t your fault that you just happened to look outside and see him shirtless and bench lifting a very large amount and if you were really really quiet you could almost hear him groaning—
he slides his hands down your bare skin, hesitating again at the waistband of your jeans, but you arch your back a little to push yourself closer and he takes the hint. he easily undoes the button with one hand, and you try not to think about how many times he must’ve practiced that in order to get that skilled at it. but that thought is quickly pushed out of your mind when his hand makes its way into your pants, his fingers experimentally sliding down past your underwear and brushing through your folds.
you let out a groan, rolling your hips into his hand encouragingly. you’re already hot and sweaty, standing with your back against the door in just your bra and jeans, but it’s hard to tell if the heat is from the crowded, stuffy house or from something else.
“god, you’re so wet,” he murmurs under his breath almost incredulously as he presses his fingertip against your clit, circling the swollen bud before dipping back down to collect your arousal on his fingers.
you squeeze your thighs together out of instinct, trapping his hand between your legs, and he looks up at you for confirmation. “more,” you whimper, just loud enough to be heard over the music and the noise on the other side of the door. “chan, please.”
he groans and puts more pressure on your clit, starting to rub a little faster and a little messier. he slides his middle and index fingers inside and you let out an involuntary yelp, clenching and bucking your hips in search of more friction. he starts out slow, curling his fingers in a beckoning motion as his other hand massages the bare skin of your waist.
after more of your pleading he finally concedes, sliding his fingers out and wiping them on his stomach, leaving a glistening trail of wetness on his tan skin. he glances back up at you in questioning, but he finds no hesitation in your expression as his hands start to push your pants down your legs and you kick them away, leaving you bare in front of him.
“you sure you're ready?” he pauses to ask one more time, but your quick nod has him jumping back into action in seconds.
he follows hurriedly, stripping out of his pants and shoving his boxers down to free his cock. his length springs up and slaps against his stomach, the tip looking flushed and heavy, and your mind goes blank, replaced only with the thought of him inside you. he holds himself in one hand, lining his cock up at your entrance as you adjust your position in preparation.
you groan as he finally ushes into you, your fingernails digging into the back of his shoulder blades as you struggle to balance.
“feels good?” he mumbles as he lifts your thigh, wrapping your leg securely around his hip. he doesn't move yet, his hips still as he lets you move however you need.
you barely manage to nod in return, keeping your hands firmly planted on his shoulders, slowly but surely adjusting to his size. “god, yes,” you manage, trying to keep your breathing steady. “if i'd have known you felt this good i would've come over way sooner.”
“mm, well. you're welcome over here any time.” he grins at you. his dark eyes get hazier with desire as he holds you firmly against his pelvis. “for any reason you'd like.”
the best response you can come up with is “sure”, barely listening as you start to roll your hips, but you can tell the sincerity in his statement. your attempt at movement doesn't work very well in this position, but chan quickly takes the hint, pulling back and letting his cock slip halfway out before he drives back into you.
the first thrust has you seeing stars already, and you let out a broken moan as he starts to build up his pace. your back slides against the wall as you feel the bass reverberating through your bones, and it only enhances the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls.
“if there weren’t so many people in this house, i’d have you screaming my name right now,” chan huffs against your lips, pulling your body closer and wrapping his arms around you tighter.
“mm, but the music is so loud they probably wouldn’t be able to hear it anyway,” you bite back with a brazen smile. you're feeling bold, the party atmosphere filling you with a cockiness that you don't usually possess. but something about the environment, the fact that you're fucking the hottest person here while hundreds of people rave obliviously outside the door, is a thrill you've never felt before.
he rolls his head back with a groan, and you feel his thrusts suddenly getting harder and deeper. you have to fight to stay standing, using all your energy to keep yourself upright and leaning most of your weight on him, but if he notices it he doesn't let it show. all those push-ups and bench presses that you ogle him doing in his garage must be good for something, from the way he hoists you against the wall and drives his cock into you without even barely breaking a sweat.
“say it, then,” he goads, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up. “you want to, don't you? you wouldn't have come over here tonight if you didn't.”
the worst part is that you know he's right. your own curiosity is what brought you here tonight, masked by the claims of noise complaints. the noise isn't even really that much of a bother: you could've gone to bed, turned on your fan and played some white noise, and you would've been perfectly fine. but some part of you longs to know what goes on at these parties, to see your devastatingly sexy neighbor in this setting you've never witnessed him in yet. so now that your curiosity has been satisfied, you really have nothing to lose.
“chan! fuck— mmph, yes—” you whine loudly, unintentionally clenching around him as the words fall from your lips. there's no way anyone would hear over the music, and even if they did, there's a high chance they wouldn't care either way. it's just what happens at parties.
his eyes light up at the sound, a moan of his own leaving his mouth as he thrusts into you over and over again, burying his cock as deep as he can go with every stroke. a familiar heat burns in the pit of your stomach at his movements, winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. your walls throb around his length, filling every inch of you until you can't take it anymore.
“chan…” you groan again, pulling him towards you with your leg around his waist. “please, keep going… c-close, i'm close—”
he leans in and presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans with his eager mouth. “god, please cum for me,” he says breathlessly, pulling away but leaving just enough room for your lips to stay connected by a thin string of spit. “need to feel it, need to feel you. please, baby, fuck…”
he slams into you even harder, driving his cock right up into the spot that makes your knees nearly buckle. you manage to whimper out his name one last time before your lips go slack against his mouth, your eyes squeezing shut as you crash into your climax. the force of his steady, constant thrusts combined with the force of your orgasm leaves your body tingling, every nerve alight from the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.
his movements don't ever slow, but you can see the emotion twisting in his face in reaction as he watches you cum, squeezing around him so warm and wet and perfect that it takes every ounce of his self control not to immediately follow you over the edge.
his eyes bore into yours, watching your face until he's sure you've recovered enough to handle him. he pulls out and keeps his hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock, jerking himself with tiny flicks of his wrist to keep the momentum going.
immediately you drop to your knees in front of him, tilting your head back to stare up at him between his thighs, your eyes wordlessly pleading with him as your tongue nearly rolls out of your mouth.
“fuck, you're so…,” he groans, keeping his fist tight around his cock with a few final motions. “you're so fucking hot, god, i'm gonna—”
he whines and his hips buck as he spills across your face, thick white ropes landing on your tongue and your cheeks. your smaller hand reaches up to replace his and you take him into your mouth, gagging only slightly as the salty taste fills your mouth. you wrap your lips around him and swallow, letting your tongue swirl around his sensitive head to collect it all until he's finished.
he pulls back and his cock slips from your mouth, leaving you gasping and licking your lips to catch the stray drops of his cum. his voice is low and strained as he reaches out his hand to help you up, his thick biceps flexing as he pulls you to your feet. despite the blissed-out look on his face you can see the guilt in eyes and it makes you pause, wondering if he didn't enjoy it the same way you just did. but it's only another moment before he speaks again, and your short-lived worries are put to rest.
“i'm sorry it was so fast,” he says almost shyly, pulling you over to sit at the edge of his bed. “i can go again if you aren't done yet. or we can do something else… or i could walk you back home. whatever you want, i'm happy to do.”
you expression softens into a grin, still a little hazy but definitely not finished. “oh, i can go again, for sure. i've got all night if you'll let me.”
his eyes crinkle with an eager smile, and you're already spreading your legs to give him space as he falls down onto the bed between them, landing on top of you. his hand cups your chin ans he pulls you into him, his lips finding yours and melting into you with a satisfied hum. his tongue finds its place once again in your mouth, prodding inside as he kisses you with a level of passion and desperation you haven't felt in a long time. 
he groans into the kiss as he tastes himself on your lips, exploring your mouth and the bitter taste he left inside. you feel the vibrations from it in your jaw and down your neck, and it only makes you kiss him harder in an effort to draw out more of those pretty sounds.
"hey, dino, didn't you say you'd bring me a beer? it's so boring standing out there—"
the door opens and you jerk away with a scream, hiding yourself under chan and using the nearest piece of clothing to cover up as someone barges into the room.
"cheol, get the fuck out!" chan shouts, wrapping his arm around you and keeping you pressed tightly against his chest, using his back to shield you from view. "fucking knock next time, dude, you know better!"
"jeez! how should i have known? i thought you said you didn't hook up at parties," cheol mutters as he turns around, slamming the door shut behind him. "i'll get the damn beer myself."
the door slams shut once again, and chan sighs and hangs his head, his forehead leaning against your chest before he reluctantly crawls off of you and crosses the room to lock the door.
“you don’t hook up at parties, huh?”
he turns around to look at you, and you pause to take him in. his hair is messier than it was when you got here, glued to his forehead with sweat and sticking up at odd angles from you tugging on it. his broad chest is tinged red with tiny scratches from your nails, and it makes you want to bite him all over, but you contain yourself for now.
your voice is teasing, but cheol’s words have honestly made you feel a million times lighter. you hadn’t expected to be anything special to chan after tonight; at the very least, you hoped that it wouldn’t be awkward when you see each other, but you’d figured you were just the next in a long line of girls waiting to have their turn with him. for once, you’d never been so happy to be proven wrong.
“i’ll make an exception for the pretty neighbor girl. just this once.”
“oh, so now i'm just pretty. i thought i remembered you saying that i was the hot neighbor girl,” you giggle, watching as he hops on one leg to put his boxers back on.
“two things can be true at once,” he says with a grin as he walks back over to you still lying on his bed. “besides, i still haven't taken you out on a date yet. would be kinda forward of me to call you hot when i haven't even bought you dinner yet.”
you smile at him, trying to fight the warmth burning in your cheeks as you reach up to ruffle your fingers through his soft hair. he lets out a satisfied groan at the feeling, and it gives you an idea.
“do…” you trail off, suddenly unsure, until you see the warmth in chan’s eyes as he lays on top of you and it fills you with confidence again. “do you wanna continue this at my house? i’ve got the quietest room, and nobody will bother us.”
“mm.” he grins at the way you repeat his words from earlier, enamored with your shy yet playful tone. “if we’re at your place, does that mean i get to give you the noise complaint this time?”
“i’ll allow it.” you roll your eyes and pull yourself to sit up. “i need a shower, and i’m sure you would like one, too. plus i have food that hasn't been spilled on the floor or soaked in alcohol.”
he picks your shirt up off the floor and hands it to you with a smile, moving around his room with a quiet confidence you find unbearably hot. “does this mean anything to you, or is this just a tonight thing?” he asks.
you bite at your lip as you shimmy back into your jeans, shaky fingers sliding the button into place as you sit back down on the bed. “it does,” you reply simply. “you did tell me you'd buy me dinner, after all. i'm gonna hold you to that.”
he leans over you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “and i plan on keeping that promise.”
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you stumble your way through the house, squeezing chan’s hand tightly as he pulls you up the stairs, following him towards the door. you're not worried about anyone noticing you anymore: everyone's too wrapped up in their own business to care, including you. the party seems dulled now, the music fading and the people around you becoming blank faces. all you care about is chan, your eyes roving over his broad back muscles that peek through his shirt as you trail behind him. you must look no different than every other drunk college kid here with the giddy smile on your face, but you haven't had a drop of alcohol. it's just the effect he had on you.
finally you make it outside, and the cool night air feels sharp compared to the humidity inside the house. already it seems quieter as you start to walk the distance across the street, moving away from the party and towards the comfort of your own home. chan moves up beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist while you lead the way, but you're stopped once again by the same man from earlier.
“hey,” he greets chan, only sparing half a smirk in your direction but otherwise not bothering you, despite the heat that instantly rises in your cheeks at the fact that you were caught. “did you get my beer?”
“no. you said you were getting it yourself.” he rolls his eyes, and cheol whines and gives him a look that you swear almost looks like a pout. “if anyone asks about me, tell them i'm not home. tell them i had to…” he looks over at you with a cocky grin. “…had to go take care of something. noise complaint.”
cheol groans, making a face. “god, whatever. i don't want the details. but just don't make me stand outside next time. i'm doing you a favor here. i'm supposed to be working on my thesis.”
“sure,” chan replies, but he's still stuck staring at you, barely processing his friend's complaints. “yeah. anyway, i'll catch you tomorrow.”
he tugs gently on your waist and you start walking again, leaving cheol without so much as a goodbye or even a proper introduction. you'll deal with that later, you guess. there’s a lot of things you'll have to deal with, but at least the wild parties your neighbor boyfriend throws won't be one of them anymore.
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tpwk-formula1 · 3 months ago
Note
hello! please may i order thick crust, alfredo sauce, artichokes, broccoli and argula with water and aftercare please served by lando🩵
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Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu
thick crust sugar daddy alfredo sweet sex artichokes "Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use" broccoli "Made just for me huh?" arugula "I love stretching this pussy out" water breeding kink dessert yes served by Lando Norris
Lando x Sugar Baby! reader
TW - Size kink conversations, terrible representation of a sugar daddy/baby relationship, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex, talks of filling reader up with cum
WC 1800+
AN - I am so sorry this one took me forever! A few of the first few requests got lost amongst the rest and I just found them and will be out within the next couple of hours <3
Y/N POV
"I'm ready to go home," I tell Lando softly while pulling his hand towards the exit of the Monaco shopping center we had spent the last hour in.
We came here with the intention of Lando purchasing some things I had set my eyes on but as soon as we got here we kept getting stopped by fans. I loved watching the joy spread across Lando's face when a different fan would approach him but after a while, I was starting to get overwhelmed.
"You only got one thing, baby," Lando tells me softly but I just shake my head pulling Lando closer to the valet wanting to get into the car as soon as possible.
"We can get it online," I say sharply still making our way to the valet when Lando's car was parked out front. When we hand them the ticket Lando opens the door for me before shutting it softly and climbing into the driver's seat.
"Didn't know you wanted to fuck me that bad," Lando says with a smirk making me scoff and roll my eyes softly at him before cracking a slight smile.
"I don't know how you handle all the people talking to you in public. I'm not even the one they're taking pictures and I was overwhelmed," I tell Lando softly pulling the hand he had resting on my thigh into my hand so I could play with his rings.
"You know you're a terrible sugar baby right?" Lando questions me with a smirk making me throw my head back with a soft groan.
Lando and I had known each other for years and have been close for the past few years, and one drunk night decided to come up with some stupid idea where we hook up whenever we can and in exchange Lando will take care of some of my fiances.
"You pay my rent still," I tell him softly making me laugh a little.
"You basically live in my bed, why the hell would I make you pay rent for a place you're rarely in," Lando says with a light laugh making me laugh a little with him.
"I don't Lando, it's a strange situation. I mean I use your card occasionally," I tell him with a soft smile.
"Baby, you've had access to my credit card for almost a year and I kid you not I've made three payments of less than a thousand dollars each time," Lando says making me scrug. I think this whole Sugar Daddy and Sugar Baby situation was our weird way of covering up the truth of us wanting to be together.
"Would you rather me max it out every month?" I question softly making Lando laugh a little.
"I mean it would make me feel better after the way I destroy your pussy every chance possible," Lando says smirking making my jaw drop slightly at his crude words. Lando just laughs when he sees my face before pulling into the parking garage of his complex and reverse parking into his spot making my thighs clench together slightly from how hot he looked when he was driving.
When we get into his apartment I make my way into his room where I instantly strip down into nothing but my bra and panties before grabbing one of Lando's shirts and throwing it on just wanting to be comfortable.
"Fuck, I love seeing you in my clothes," Lando says from the door making me turn around towards him flashing a bright smile before walking towards him and pulling him in for a soft kiss.
"Nuh-uh, you have some online shopping to do," Lando says while pulling away making me whine.
"After," I beg making Lando shake his head, before climbing into his bed and patting the spot next to him before pulling his laptop out of his nightstand and handing it to me.
We spent the next hour buying all kinds of things such as new kitchen utensils for Lando's apartment so I could stop bringing stuff from my apartment, new clothes, and Lando's personal favorite was the two grand he insisted he dropped on lingerie that he will surely have me model for him when it arrives.
"No more," I mumble pushing away the computer when I saw that his card went through on the lingerie boutique.
"Are you sure baby?" Lando questions making me nod my head.
"Yes, can you please fuck me now," I ask softly giving him my best puppy dog eyes making me laugh yet he still pulled me in for a heated kiss.
I climb into Lando's lap grinding down on his jeans making both of us moan at the pleasure. I could feel Lando starting to get hard which and me shuffling between his legs so I was on my knees for Lando but still in the bed. I watch as Lando pulls his shirt off as I unbutton his pants and slip his cock through the top of his boxers before I take a small lick at the precum dripping from his tip making him hiss at the stimulation.
"Imagine your father saw you now. On your knees like a proper trained slut for me to use," Lando says with a smirk making me lean down to his thigh and taking a soft bite at it.
"Ya but you trained me to be your slut," I say with a smirk before finally pulling Lando's pants all the way off with his help. He also shuffled his briefs down leaving him bare while I was still in his shirt so I slipped it off leaving me in my matching set. I lean back down and pull Lando back into my mouth while I used my free hand to play with my clit making me moan softly around Lando's cock sending vibrations straight to his tip.
" Fuck you were made just for me huh?" Lando groans out the question when I start deep-throating his cock.
I could tell Lando was getting close which had him pushing me back softly and positioning me on my back before he climbed between my legs and started kissing me.
Lando makes quick work of unclipping my bra and discarding it across the room before trailing soft kisses down my neck and chest before giving a quick soft suck on each nipple before he kisses down my stomach where he pulls my panties down and wastes no time in pulling my clit into his mouth and sucking on it.
"Fuck, Lando," I whine wiggling my hips a bit making Lando grip onto my thighs with his arms and continue licking and sucking on my clit.
"So good," I mumble out making Lando speed up his actions and unwrap one of his arms from my thighs before slipping two fingers into my soaked pussy where he found my G-spot with not trouble and starts teasing it and bringing me close to an orgasm.
When Lando realized how close I was he pulls away making me whine at the lost but quickly shuts me up when he pulls me in for a kiss while slowly pushing his large cock into my pussy.
"Oh my God," I moan loudly when I feel Lando's cock graze my G-spot before he hit my cervix once he was all the way seated into my pussy.
"Lando, too big," I gasp when I feel Lando rocking his hips slightly to stretch me out. Lando and I had issues the first time we slept together cause I couldn't relax myself enough to take him without pain, we quickly learned a few soft circles against my clit will do the job if needed.
"I love stretching this pussy out," Lando groans while staring at the way my pussy was stretching to accommodate his size.
When Lando feels he's stretched me out enough he stops his rocking and instead starts softly thrusting making me gasp when he starts hitting my G-spot each time.
"So good," Im mumble trying to keep my volume down slightly. Lando just picks up his thrusting when he realizes I was holding back slightly.
"Fuck," I moan loudly when he starts hitting my G-spot with a bit more force than before.
"You gonna let me cum in you baby?" Lando questions making me nod my head.
"Please, I need your cum in my," I gasp when Lando starts speeding up his thrusts into a perfect pace.
"Ya? You love feeling my cum fill this pretty pussy up," Lando says while bringing two fingers down to my clit where he rubs soft circles on it bringing me closer to the edge.
"You gonna cum for me pretty girl?" Lando questioned while speeding up his fingers on my clit knowing I was gonna need more than just some soft circles.
"Please, cum with me," I beg before pulling Lando's neck down to my face so I could keep his lips on mine throwing both of us over the edge.
"Fuck baby, I can feel you cumming on my cock," Lando groans into my mouth while still rocking his hips to make sure to ride our orgasms out.
I can feel the way his cum is splashing against the tight walls of my pussy making me gasp. I could tell he was unloading a large load that was sure to leak out of my pussy the rest of the day.
Once Lando and I have both calmed down from our orgasms he slowly slips his cock out of my pussy before laying down next to me and pulling me into his chest.
"Lando, can I ask you something?" I question softly making Lando pick his head up to give me his full attention.
"So I've been thinking, I don't really want to keep this dynamic," I tell him softly making Lando tense next to me.
"I want more," I continue trying to ease Lando's anxiety. I instantly feel his body relax against mine making me relax slightly too.
"I want more too," Lando tells me softly making a smile spread across my face.
"I mean, truthfully we've been more than sex and money this whole time. I mean at least for me. I haven't even looked at another girl the same since you gave me a taste of that pussy," Lando tells me making me laugh at his last comment.
"Well, good thing I haven't looked at another guy since you kinda destroyed me anyways," I joke making a smug smirk spread across Lando's face.
"Ya, I stretched that pussy just for my cock. No one will ever be able to make you cum again," Lando says casually as if it was a normal thing to be proud of.
"You're ridiculous," I laugh before cuddling further into Lando's side.
"So it's official?" Lando questions softly with hope laced in his voice.
"You gonna buy me dinner first?" I joke before nodding my head in agreeance.
"I just dropped 2k to watch you parade around in lingerie, I think that beats dinner. But yes of course I'm gonna take you to dinner and much more," Lando tells me softly making me smile.
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golden-cherry · 1 month ago
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deal - cl16 (44/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Let's get this party started!
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of previous smut), alcohol consumption, slight jealousy, a kiss
Word Count: 3.6k
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A/N: we love girls girls. happy Sunday to everyone! feedback is appreciated!
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Your little heels click on the asphalt of the streets of Monaco as Kika and you walk towards the club, arms hooked and cheeks warm from the wine. Cold wind blows in your faces. 
“I was so happy when Charles invited us to come with you,” Kika smiles and lays her head on your shoulder, which is certainly quite uncomfortable due to your uneven pace. But she doesn't seem to care. 
You rest your cheek against her top of her head. "I didn't even know that you were coming tonight until a few hours ago," you say. 
“He apparently only messaged Pierre today and asked,” the Portuguese woman says, lifting her head from your shoulder. "Very spontaneous. But all the better that it worked.”
You smile at her. "That's true.”
Together you turn a corner and immediately the club on the other side of the street catches your eye. Neon signs, which somehow don't fit with the rest of the city's atmosphere, draw attention to the building and the closer you get, the louder the music seems to get, penetrating through the walls. A few people are standing in front of the double doors, guarded by security guards dressed in black, discussing admission. 
When you see the clipboards in the hands of the broad-built men, you stop abruptly, causing Kika to almost trip and bump into you. 
“Are you okay? What's wrong?” she asks, looking at you in confusion. 
Nervously, you nod in the direction of the club. ”They have clipboards.”
Kika looks at the bouncers and then back at you. “No shit, Sherlock. That's where the guest list is,” she replies and tries to pull you a little further. “Why are you stopping? Have you changed your mind? Don't you want to party?”
“Yes, I do,” you reply hesitantly. “But how do we get in there if they have a guest list?”
A grin spreads across Kika's beautiful face before she puts her arm around you and pushes you forward. “Do you really doubt that we'll get in?” she asks, and when she catches your nervous glance, she pulls you closer. “You were invited by a Formula 1 driver, querida. You're the last person who needs to worry.”
As you cross the street and stand behind the people who are still arguing with the bouncers, you realize how different your life seems to be now. 
Ten days ago, you were worried about how you would pay your rent if you didn't find a job – and now you're spending nights on yachts, your best friend is a model and you're partying with Formula 1 drivers in Monaco's most chic clubs. And you're even living with one of them.
And you love him too. 
The bouncers don't seem to be giving in, and the more unyielding they look, the more annoyed the men in their black suits appear. As people try to negotiate their entry and wave banknotes in their hands, the men look past them and nod to you. 
Without hesitation, Kika pulls you through the crowd and comes to a stop in front of the entrance doors. She is about to open her mouth when one of the bouncers takes a step to the side and smiles at you. “Good evening, ladies,” he says in a deep voice, holding the door open for you. “Mr. Norris is expecting you.”
“Thank you very much,” Kika replies with a broad smile, quickly pulling you along behind her so that you can only say a quiet ‘thank you’ to the two men before the club's double doors close behind you and you are enveloped in dim light, warm air and music that gets louder with every step you take. 
“See? That wasn't so hard,” your friend grins, and together you walk down a short hallway before entering a large room. To your left are a few seating areas on an ampore, some open and others roped off. To your right is a long bar stretching across the room, with lots of people already gathered around it. And right in front of you – there's the dance floor. 
At the back is the DJ booth, currently manned by a woman who seems to know exactly what the crowd wants to hear. With precision and skill, she flows from one song to the next without you really noticing, and the audience is eating out of her hands. 
“Hello, you two beauties,” someone suddenly says behind you, and when you turn around, you see Lando's face. He's wearing a white shirt, the top buttons casually undone so that part of his chest can be seen. With arms outstretched, he hugs Kika first before pulling you close and planting a kiss on your cheek. “How are you? How was Christmas?” he asks, taking each of your hands to pull you to the seating areas on the left. He briefly lets go of Kika's hand to untie one of the ribbons before letting you go ahead. 
“It was great,” Kika replies and takes off her long jacket before dropping onto one of the dark couches. She crosses her legs. "But I think our girl here had the most fun," she grins, raising her eyebrows. You give her a dirty look. 
Lando turns to you with raised eyebrows. ”Did you two fuck?”
“That's exactly what I asked!” Kika laughs and claps her hands joyfully. 
You feel the heat rising to your face, and it's not because you're still wearing your coat. Tensioned, you take it off and lay it over the back of the couch. “We didn't,” you answer curtly and roll your eyes. 
Kika and Lando exchange a meaningful look that you try to ignore. 
“Where are the boys, anyway?“ the Brit finally asks, rubbing his hands together as if he can't wait to see his friends again. 
“They dropped us off one street over so they could find a parking lot and so we wouldn't all be seen together,” Kika replies, reaching for the drinks menu on the small table in front of her. She begins to flip through it. 
“Very good.” Lando turns to you. "Today, only guests are invited who I and Martin know personally and trust so much that no one has to worry about any photos getting out," he smiles, putting his arm around your shoulders. 
You look up at him. ”Really?”
He nods. “So you don't need to worry. And neither does Charles.” He gently pulls you close before letting you go again. “So, girls. What can I get you to drink? Wine, cocktails, shots?”
“I'd like a strawberry margarita,” Kika replies, leaning back on the couch. 
“A piña colada, please.”
“All right. I'll be right back.“ Without turning back to you, he leaves and heads towards the bar, where he is immediately greeted and hugged by a few people, while you first make yourselves comfortable in your seating area. 
“Do you know this Martin guy?” you ask the Portuguese woman, who looks over at the crowd. 
She nods briefly. “Martin is really nice. And he's a good DJ,” she replies, and you notice how her gaze sticks to the female DJ. “He just doesn't look as good as she does.”
You can't suppress a grin. ”He doesn't have to look good as a DJ, does he? He just has to be good at what he does.”
“That's right,” Kika agrees with you before turning to face you. She points with her thumb over her shoulder and towards the DJ booth. ”But she's definitely hotter.”
Before you can say anything, Lando returns with a tray and sets it down in front of you. Your two cocktails and more glasses are on it, but there are also small shot glasses filled with red liquid. He hands you your drinks. 
“There we are,” Pierre greets all of you and briefly embraces Lando. Charles is standing behind him and smiles at you. 
“I'm glad you all made it,” the Brit smiles, giving the Monegasque a quick hug before everyone sits down. 
Charles takes a seat next to you, so close that he can press his leg against yours. “Hi,” he smiles gently. “Everything okay?” You return his smile and nod before taking a sip of your cocktail. His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips, which wrap around the straw. “Piña Colada?”
“Mh-hmm.” You hold the straw out to him and watch as he takes a sip. "Do you like it?”
“I do,’ he admits. ”But somehow I prefer the Nightmare Colada.”
Warmth rises to your cheeks at his words and the thought of the night when you got drunk on his boat. How you poured out your hearts. 
“To a great evening,” Lando raises his voice and hands everyone a shot glass. Carefully, each of you takes one, careful not to spill any of the red liquid. ”Cheers!”
The drinks that make their way to your table over the next two hours taste so fantastically good that Kika and you doubt that there is much alcohol in them. The cocktails taste fantastic and the music puts everyone in a good mood, so you leave your table and hit the dance floor. 
Your group dances to the beat that the DJ is playing like tipsy teenagers. Kika and you hold hands and dance together, causing the boys' eyes to almost pop out of their heads. The Portuguese woman presses her front against yours, her hands on your hips while yours are on her shoulders. And when she leans forward with pouting lips, you can't help but press a friendly kiss on her lips. You hear someone whistle – it's definitely Pierre – and when you both pull away from each other, you have to laugh. 
Kika puts her arm around your shoulders and the other around Charles. “I can't believe I kissed this beauty here before you did, Leclerc,” she grins. 
Charles looks at you with rosy cheeks, but his words are directed at Kika. “Is she a good kisser?”
“The best kisser I ever had,” the brunette replies with a grin before letting go of you and throwing her arms around her boyfriend. 
Charles and you look at each other uncertainly. 
Well, why haven't you kissed each other yet?
The thought is haunting your mind, but you can't answer the question. 
Doesn't Charles want to kiss you? You've definitely done things that are definitely not PG-rated. You can almost feel his spent between your thighs and his lips on your neck, the tip of his cock nudging against your clit and – 
Why haven't you kissed each other?
The Monegasque seems to notice your thoughts, but before he can say anything, Kika grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bar. You lean against the counter and wait for one of the bartenders to notice you when your friend takes your hand. 
“Is everything okay?” She asks, raising her eyebrows in concern. 
“Why do you ask?” you reply with a counter question. 
When a bartender reaches you, Kika orders your drinks. "I didn't want it to be weird between you and Charles. I'm sorry.”
You smile weakly at her and give her a quick hug. ’It's all right. We won't let this ruin our evening, okay?”
“You know you can always talk to me, right?” She asks, tilting her head. ‘You can call me day or night and I'll come to you. I promise.”
Your smile grows wider. "I'm already aware of that.”
“And I really love you, you know that?“ She puts her hands on your upper arms and hugs you tightly. Apparently, Kika gets emotional when she's drunk. 
“I love you too,” you return her embrace, and when the bartender puts your drinks in front of you, you both toast. 
“To the coolest girls, aka us,” she grins. As you both take a sip, someone taps her on the shoulder. Your best friend turns around and apparently she knows the young woman standing behind her, because she pulls her into a fleeting embrace before introducing you. ”Querida, this is Elena. She is also a model.”
In front of you stands a breathtaking beauty. With her brown hair, dark eyes and dark complexion, she looks as if she has just flown in from vacation. She is wearing a black and white dress that highlights her figure and accentuates exactly the right places to make her look flawless. 
You smile at her and introduce yourself as well. “Nice to meet you,” you say and extend your hand, but Elena kisses you on the left and then on the right cheek. 
“It's nice to meet you, too,” she replies with a smile before approaching you. ”Wait. Wipe below your eyebrows. You have some mascara on there.”
Without questioning her remark, you do as she says, and apparently it's good, because both women look at you with satisfaction afterwards. “Thank you,” you say. “That's very nice.”
Elena waves it off. ‘Don't worry. I'd want someone to tell me that too." She leans against the bar. ”You already have your drinks, right? Should I order shots for us?” she asks, but before either of you can answer, she is already talking to the bartender, who quickly prepares a cocktail and sets down three shot glasses in front of her. "Here you go," she says, handing each of you one of the glasses. 
After you've clinked glasses and emptied the small glasses, Kika fishes her cell phone out of her purse. ”Should we take a picture? I'm already drunk, but I definitely want a few more, and I don't think they'll get any better as the evening goes on,” she giggles, tapping someone on the shoulder to take a photo of you. First one of Kika and you, and then one of the three of you. 
“What's your name on Instagram?” Elena asks you, also digging out her phone so you can type your username into the search bar. When your profile pops up, she immediately clicks the follow button. 
Your phone lights up and the notification pops up on the lock screen, and when you tap it, you confirm her request and follow her right back. 
Her profile has a very aesthetic and artistic touch. Every picture is exactly where it should be. The colors all match and at the top of her biography is actually her full name: Elena Montpellier – one million followers – model at Bijou Management agency. 
“I didn't know that Lando had invited you,” Kika says to Elena, who just shrugs. 
“I'm here with friends,“ she replies as the three of you return to your seating area. "A friend of mine knows Martin and asked me if I wanted to come. And as if I'd stay at home when Martin is playing here in the club.”
Confused, you look from one beauty to the other. "So who is this Martin?” you ask hesitantly, afraid that Elena will laugh at you. 
But she doesn't. Quite the opposite. She slides closer to you and tells you about Martin, who is apparently a world-famous DJ. On her cell phone, she shows you videos of his shows and the crowds in front of which he usually performs, but in none of the sequences can you see his face. But suddenly she puts her cell phone down and motions for you to look up. “Speak of the devil.”
Your men join you and, like you, they have someone new with them. The face looks incredibly familiar. He kisses each of the girls on the cheek before introducing himself to you. And then it clicks. 
“Oh my God,” you gasp before he can say a word. ‘You're Martin Garrix.”
“That's me,’ he replies, visibly confused, glancing briefly at Lando, who puts his arm around your shoulder – skilfully ignoring Charles' scowl. 
“My friend here hasn't been in this industry for very long,“ he explains, gently pulling you over to his side. "This is all still pretty new.”
Martin looks back at you from Lando. ’Then I'm glad you're here today,” he smiles. “How did you end up with these guys, if you don't mind me asking?”
You're about to open your mouth to answer him, but Charles is faster. “She's my best friend,” he replies, standing next to you, his arm around your waist. He glances at Lando, who quickly removes his arm from your shoulder and catches your uncertain glance. 
“Okay, cool,” Martin simply replies. ”I still have about half an hour before I have to go to the desk. So, what's going on in your lives?”
While everyone is chatting, you hold back and watch. Pierre and Lando are talking, while Charles, Elena and Martin have moved closer together and the latter is showing something on his cell phone to the other two. You lean back into the couch and sip on your cocktail, Kika leaning on you. 
“I'm sorry he introduced you as his best friend,” she says, only audible to you. 
When you shrug, her head wobbles. “It's okay. I've made my peace with it,” you reply with a half-truth. 
Of course, you would prefer to be more than just his best friend – after all, you share a bed and the images of his expression when he came and painted your thighs refuse to leave you – but if his friendship is all you get from him, then that's that. 
“Please take care of yourself.” Kika raises her head and looks at you anxiously. ”I don't want you to get hurt. You've already been through so much.”
You gently press a kiss on her forehead. “I appreciate your concern.” Your gaze flickers over to Charles, who is now talking only to Elena. He shows her something on his phone and they both have to laugh. The woman leans forward a little to get a better look at the screen, but holds her neckline of the dress so that you can't see inside. 
Charles eyes move from his screen to you, without looking at Elena once. 
You smile at him, but before he can return it, the woman next to him says something and his attention is back to her, as if you weren't there. Maybe he just wants to be polite, after all, Pascale has taught him well and Charles is not one who just -
“Hi,” someone interrupts your train of thought and when you look up, Martin is standing in front of you. "I'm going to the DJ booth now and I thought you might like to join me," he suggests. ”As a kind of welcome and an apology for being so strange just now.”
You raise your eyebrows in wonder. “Actually, I should be the one to apologize. I'm not quite into the ‘famous people know other famous people’ thing yet. I'm sorry.”
Martin waves it off. “Don't worry. It takes some getting used to. But maybe it will help if you support me at the DJ booth.” He holds out his hand. 
“I've never done this before. So I can't guarantee anything,” you smile, which makes him laugh. 
“I'll show you everything. And if necessary, you can just stand next to me and look beautiful, but that shouldn't be a problem.“ 
“All right.” Without hesitation, you put your hand in his and he helps you to your feet. You take a quick glance at Kika, who grins at you and pushes the rest of your cocktail into your free hand, wishing you lots of fun. 
Your eyes flicker over to Charles, whose eyes are already glued to you. He doesn't seem to notice Elena at all, she talks and talks and apparently shows him something without realizing that his attention is not on her right now. He looks from your face to your hand, which is still holding Martin's, so that he can guide you through the crowd in a moment. 
It doesn't feel right to hold another man's hand, even if it's just for a moment. It should be Charles' hand holding yours. Charles' fingers entwined with yours. But Charles is sitting there with Elena, knee to knee. 
“Are you okay?” Martin asks, looking from you to Charles, who can't take his eyes off the two of you. 
You swallow and smile at him. “I'm fine.”
“Are you sure?” the DJ asks implausibly. “Charles looks at me as if he wants to kill me. You're just friends, aren't you?”
With your eyes fixed on Charles, you answer him. "Best friends," you correct him with the words of the Monegasque, before turning to Martin. ”Shall we?”
"With pleasure.”
As the two of you leave the seating area and you don't turn around to catch the eye of your best friend, Charles clenches his jaw. 
He already knows the feeling that is welling up inside of him, but last time it was Lando who triggered it and he had to work on himself not to see the Brit as competition. Which is complete nonsense, because Charles knows that Lando would never come between the two of you, not after he called the Monegasque and put him in his place while he was in Italy. 
And Charles knows that he has nothing to worry about. He is the man you go home with later. He is the man you share your bed with at night. He is the man who will later push up your dress and is allowed to touch you where you need him most. 
He knows all of this. And yet there is nothing he can do about it, except feel increasingly jealous with every step you take away from him.
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sooniebby · 10 months ago
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Got another idea…. Bottom male reader obs 🫶🏼 reader is trans male (use of pussy for genitalia)
You live with your brother and his best friend would occasionally just walk into the apartment. You’d gotten used to him being there but you still felt it was weird but hey, you’re living there rent free.
One day, when he’s over, he starts complaining about never having a girlfriend. You just allow him to yap while you play your video game. It’s until you see him almost on the verge of tears that you decide to give him some basic level empathy.
While comfort him, he suddenly looks at you…and then your crotch. You glare at him, wondering what the hell he was looking at when he gripped your shoulders.
“Hey…you have one right? Can I…just lose my virginity to you?”
You stare at him in complete shock, almost wondering if you heard him wrong but he seemed completely serious. You wanted to kick him out but…. You haven’t had sex in months now.
It’d be nice to not have to rely on a dildo…
Pushing your dignity aside, you said yes.
But when he was fingering you open, he seemed to know what to do. You thought you would’ve had to handle that. His grip on your thighs were almost possessive as he moved himself between them.
Slowly, he sank inside your pussy, you couldn’t help the groan that left your throat. It might’ve been awhile since you had sex but you certainly knew the feeling of a condom vs a raw cock.
Just as you were about to ask him, his nails dug into the soft flesh of your skin as he began to roughly pound into you. You cried out in shock as he leaned over, looking you right in the eye as he smirked.
“You’re so naive. It’s cute. Tighter than any other pussy I’ve ever fucked before.”
You were shocked but he had you right where he wanted you. His grip tightening to hold you in place as he ravished you like a cheap slut. And when he finished, he made sure to push in as deep as possible.
The flash of a light caught your attention as you saw him holding a phone. He smirked and waved it, taunting you.
“You’re a pretty sight…can’t expect me to not take a picture to remember.”
He didn’t come over just for your brother anymore.
I love love manipulative men….think I should expand this one, I dunno… think I should start adding my tag list to these posts since I’m doing them more often.
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ybklix · 8 months ago
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𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲
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dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg
★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader
✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol
word count: 5.1k
(masterlist)
♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡
a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!
There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”
You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.
There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.
Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.
They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.
A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.
So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.
You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.
“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”
Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.
You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.
“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.
The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.
But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.
“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.
You nodded, confused, he went on to say:
“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.
You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.
You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.
All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.
Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.
Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.
But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.
You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.
You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.
You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.
“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.
You saw them, they looked totally lost.
“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.
“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.
You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.
Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.
He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.
The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.
But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.
You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.
“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”
“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”
Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.
“After party, with who?”
The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.
“Well, who are you working for.”
Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.
You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.
“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”
“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.
“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.
“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.
“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.
You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.
You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.
“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.
It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.
You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.
You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.
Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.
After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.
“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.
You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.
Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.
What was going on?
Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.
So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.
Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.
“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”
Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.
“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.
“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”
Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.
You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.
He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.
“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.
He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.
Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.
He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.
“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.
This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.
“Get on your knees, beautiful.”
He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.
Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.
Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.
You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.
He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.
So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.
“Use your pretty mouth.”
You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.
Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.
“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”
He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….
You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.
He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.
You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.
“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.
“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.
You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.
“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.
But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.
“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”
And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.
He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.
And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.
“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.
“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”
Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.
“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”
Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.
You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.
Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.
“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”
You tried to nod between gripping your hair.
“Say it.”
“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”
“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”
His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.
Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.
You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.
“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”
You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.
“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”
“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.
You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.
“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.
You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.
1K notes · View notes
suguann · 7 months ago
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tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]
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You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around. 
Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use. 
You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.
All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.
You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.
“The nanny?”
“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”
“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.
You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.
The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.
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Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.
It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.
It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny. 
Perfect.
The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic. 
Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.
But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience. 
You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.
Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy. 
“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”
“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”
You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.
Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.
“I never say anything I don’t mean.”
You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”
“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.
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He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.
But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.
You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.
It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.
In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.
“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”
No, you think, there’s no way he knows.
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You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.
It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.
After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.
“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.
A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.
He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”
The noise in your brain goes static.
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You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.
Ren coos softly into your shoulder. 
When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.
He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.
He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy. 
“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”
You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out. 
“I-I want—”
All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt. 
“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”
You clench, nerves shot.
“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”
Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there. 
Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along. 
It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.
His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”
And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.
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