#bails💕 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kxsagi · 2 months ago

Note

Hihihi! I just stumbled upon your blog after taking a break from Tumblr, and I adore your writing!💕

I saw that your requests are open, so I thought I'd send one! I've never done this before, lmao, so sorry if I mess something up!

I was wondering if you could write something about arguing with the BL boys and then suddenly flashing them in the middle of it, asking them if they're still mad now?

I saw that you were fine with suggestive stuff in your rules, but feel free to ignore this if it's too much! I won't ask for specific characters other than maybe Chigiri? Thank you in advance for reading this! I hope you have an amazing day!💕

“𝐧𝐨, 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 ��𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰”

a/n: thank you girlie, you're so sweet, have an amazing day as well! 😚

title is a meddle about reference chase atlantic girls ily

suggestive content inside!

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, chigiri hyoma, mikage reo, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, ness alexis, niko ikki, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae

itoshi rin

you’re squaring up with him in the kitchen, halfway into a dramatic rant about how he never wipes down the counter after making his protein shakes.

"do you know what cleaning is, rin? do you even see crumbs or is your brain like–"

you cut yourself off, suddenly gripping the hem of your shirt and yanking it up with the speed of a magician doing a card trick.

just. flash. like it’s the most casual part of your sentence.

rin freezes. his jaw clenches, his whole body goes taut like he just got sniped from a rooftop.

he doesn’t speak. doesn’t blink.

his eye twitches like his brain is trying to keep functioning but a giant red ERROR screen just popped up in his mind.

“… did you just… what is wrong with you,” he hisses, voice low and stunned.

“you still mad?”

he looks at you like you summoned the devil. “… you are so annoying. get over here.”

he says it like a threat, but he's already reaching for you with dangerous intent.

argument forgotten. you’ve created a new problem.

isagi yoichi

you two are in the living room, arms crossed, facing off like two lawyers in a petty court show.

"you NEVER close the cereal box. it gets stale, yoichi. stale. it’s like chewing cardboard."

he’s rolling his eyes, "it’s not that deep–"

you sigh like you’re done. then, without warning, you lift your shirt and flash him like you’re unveiling a secret treasure.

it takes him exactly 1.5 seconds to process what just happened.

he literally chokes on his own spit.

“WAIT?! wait, wait, wait–”

his voice jumps three octaves. his hands flail like he’s trying to rewind reality.

“did you just–?! are you crazy?! i was–i mean, we were fighting!”

you just smile innocently. “you still mad, though?”

he’s red from the neck up, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“i-i need a timeout. a breather. some water. i–”

spends the next 10 minutes pacing in the kitchen muttering, “i’m dating a menace” with a lovesick grin, replaying the image in his head like a perv.

nagi seishiro

he’s lying on the couch, playing games, while you rant about how he left his laundry in the washer again.

“it’s gonna get moldy, sei! do you even care?! i’m not your maid!”

he groans. “too loud. i can’t hear my game.”

and that’s it. you snap.

you walk over and lift your hoodie in one swift move, flashing him right as he scores a kill.

he literally drops the controller.

“woah.” eyes locked. mouth slightly open.

he just blinks and says, “that’s not fair. now i forgot what i was mad about.”

“you weren’t mad.”

“exactly. we’re even now.”

immediately lies down with his head in your lap, face smushed against your thighs like he’s done anything productive all day.

mutters into your skin, “flash me again? i need it for my health.”

chigiri hyoma

you’re in his room, arms crossed, glaring at him for bailing on a hangout to go to the gym again.

“you didn’t even text. i sat there alone for 40 minutes–”

he tries to cut in. “pretty, i told you i had–”

you ignore him. you step closer, grab the edge of your shirt with both hands, and–

flash.

his jaw drops. his soul leaves his body.

“what the hell?!”

his face explodes in red, like he got hit by a tomato.

“what was that? was that a power move?!”

“you still mad at me?”

he swallows. hard. “… i was gonna defend myself but now i wanna marry you so i win either way.”

immediately flops onto the bed and yells into a pillow.

refuses to look you in the eye for 10 minutes.

whispers later, “i love you, but i’m never winning another argument again, am i?”

mikage reo

he’s mid-speech about how you should “just let him spoil you,” and you’re mid-speech about how “you don’t need a $500 pair of slippers.”

the room is tense. luxurious. slightly dramatic.

you interrupt yourself mid-sentence by slipping off your oversized sweater with flair, flashing him like you’re presenting a damn exhibit.

reo’s reaction is instant.

his mouth slowly curves into the cockiest, hungriest smile you’ve ever seen.

his voice drops two octaves.

“oh? that’s how we’re playing now?”

“you still mad?”

“i wasn’t mad, but now i’m incredibly distracted.”

walks toward you like a man possessed.

says dumb flirty things like, “wanna be my sugarbaby and my therapist?”

spoiler: you never finish the argument.

he wires money to your account and takes off his own shirt just to match.

kaiser michael

he’s all smug and loud, spinning around in a designer chair like he owns the universe.

you’re arguing about his ego.

“you can’t call yourself ‘a gift from god’ in front of my parents.”

he smirks. “they agreed with me.”

you stare him down. then without breaking eye contact, you pull your shirt up and flash him with zero hesitation.

he blinks once. twice. then he smirks wider.

“… oh, liebe. that was dangerous.”

leans back in his chair, tongue poking the inside of his cheek like he’s trying not to get feral too fast.

“are you still mad?”

“no. but you’ve signed yourself up for so much trouble.”

five seconds later: you’re on his lap.

he calls you a “cheater” while whispering unholy things in german.

you never win the argument, but now neither does he.

karasu tabito

he’s being an idiot. again.

said something sarcastic. you called him out. now it’s five minutes of dumb back-and-forth in the hallway.

you sigh. “you know what?”

you reach down, pull up your shirt, and flash him like you’re changing the subject on a powerpoint slide.

he gasps. no, squeaks.

stumbles backward into the wall like you just slapped him with a holy vision.

“MA’AM?!”

staring at you like you just performed a magic trick.

“you still mad?”

he shakes his head, stunned. “not mad. but i might need a moment to process this. maybe therapy.”

starts cracking jokes to cope. “was that a jumpscare or a proposal? because either way, i’m in love.”

never stops talking about it.

refers to it later as “the day he saw god.”

ness alexis

you were in the middle of a heated argument (probably about kaiser).

“why do you let him treat you like that? he’s not your boyfriend, alexis–”

“he’s not treating me badly! you just don’t understand him!”

and he’s got his hand on his chest, eyes glossy, one foot already stomping into a diva spiral.

you inhale slowly. then–

flash. shirt up. deadpan face.

he stops. dead silent. his hands freeze mid-gesture, trembling ever so slightly. eyes wide, lips parted like he just got slapped with a romance novel.

“... you’re weaponizing your chest.”

“you still mad?”

he blinks. gasps.

covers his face with both hands, voice cracking, “y-you can’t just DO THAT! i’m vulnerable!”

starts crying-laughing like a victorian wife who saw her husband naked for the first time.

he’s pacing. dramatically.

"i feel faint. lightheaded. i need to sit. or lie down. preferably on top of you. for stability."

somehow the fight ends with him in your lap.

whispers, "don’t tell kaiser. he’ll start using it against me."

niko ikki

you’re arguing about him spending 6 straight hours on his game, ignoring your texts.

“do you even remember you have a girlfriend, or is league your real soulmate?!”

he frowns, flustered. “i was in ranked! you always say you want me to do what i love–”

flash.

you just hit him with a quick shirt lift and stare him down.

his pupils dilate like he just activated his sharingan. his blue lens glasses slip down his nose. his mouth opens. closes.

he’s buffering like a video on 2G data.

“what the hell was that for?!”

“you still mad at me?”

he’s trying so hard not to look again.

“… i’m not mad, but i’m deeply concerned for my sanity right now.”

you smirk, turning away like the boss you are.

behind you, he silently clenches his fist and mutters, “i love her so much it’s ruining my life.”

texts you later from the next room: “you made me knock over my water.”

shidou ryusei

you’re in the middle of a heated argument, likely because shidou can’t take a hint.

“i’ve told you a thousand times to stop leaving your clothes everywhere!”

“i literally live here. where else am i supposed to put them?”

“on your damn body, for starters!”

he’s grinning like the chaotic gremlin he is, clearly trying to get under your skin.

you stare at him for a moment, silently deciding: this ends now.

flash.

you yank your shirt up, but keep your eyes locked on him. no warning. no hesitation.

his face goes from smirk to confusion to full-on shock in a matter of seconds.

his eyes widen, and he just... stops. his body visibly jerks back like he’s been hit by a truck.

“… what the hell?”

he snaps his head to the side like he’s trying to reset his brain, then dramatically blinks about 50 times.

“you still mad?”

his usual cocky, devil-may-care expression falls into full flustered chaos.

“… no. not anymore. but you just became my new favorite person. you wanna keep doing that, or should we keep fighting?”

he drops the argument completely and starts lowkey following you around for the rest of the day.

mutters to himself like a love-struck fool: “this is it. she’s my queen.”

proceeds to try to make you more mad for the rest of the week just to get another flash. it’s working.

itoshi sae

oh, it’s on now. sae is being sae. classic emotionally distant asshole.

you’ve been trying to get him to talk about his feelings, but he keeps brushing you off.

“stop acting like you’re some kind of unreachable god,” you snap.

“i’m not the problem here, you are,” he counters with that trademark smugness.

and just when you think you’re about to lose your mind, you don’t even flinch, you just flash him.

your shirt lifts slowly, not in a teasing way, just purely to make a point.

his whole world crashes for a split second. sae freezes mid-sentence. he blinks. his eyes widen slightly.

you watch the exact moment his composure starts cracking, the cool facade slipping just enough to reveal–

“did you just–?”

“you still mad?”

his breath catches in his throat, voice suddenly a little hoarse. “… i’m not mad, but i might be a little… distracted now.”

he clears his throat, trying to act like he’s in control, but it’s a losing battle.

“gosh, you’re insufferable,” he mutters, but there’s this shift in his tone, the way his hand instinctively reaches out toward you like he's trying to anchor himself.

you can tell he's so turned on, but he's also mad about it.

he stares at you like you’ve just opened the gates of heaven, and he's not sure if he wants to kiss you or run from you.

you’ve won. and he knows it.

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princesssarahcam · 3 months ago

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look at my gorgeous bestie 😍

& look at my other besties gorgeous designs 😍

my bestie made a clothing line and i’m the model?? am i dreaming?? @baileejones

#twintwin🫶🏻#bails💕

19 notes · View notes

beloveds-embrace · 7 months ago

Note

Fuck it, we ball, I hope that disrespectful anon gets hemorrhoids and they can't get them removed until next year, AND that their insurance doesn't cover it. I'm here thinking about your Omega idea where omegas normally do the pursuing, but with a slight twist; the boys being the omegas. An alpha who is for sure down bad for the boys, but thinks "ah, theyre out of my league, I should be aiming lower, manage my expectations". Only 141 is just as down bad for them, and they're doing everything just short of screaming "PICK UP ON THE HINTS, COME INTO OUR HOUSE AND BEDS AND LIVES AND STAY FOREVER PLEASE"

Johnny is about to say fuck decorum and just show up in reader's house wearing nothing but a ribbon and a tag that says 'free to a good home' (your home is the good one, please keep him, there is no receipt so you can't return him).

Price has the brain cell normally in terms of trying to gently coax you into getting you to say you're into them, he has a 15 step plan that may or may not involve using his various contacts to get you spending more time in close proximity to them. Also he for some reason is always baking, he always comes over asking you for sugar? (He'll take any kind of 'sugar' you're willing to offer, he loves making a variety of cream pies)

Gaz is always gently inviting them to attend 'friend' things, things that could be a date but that he can excuse as 'well we're coworkers/friends/neighbors, we should get along :)'. It's just a coincidence that various other people seem to bail except for any of the other boys, now why don't you sit beside him so you guys can share popcorn at the movies (you both always seem to be reaching for it at the same time, if your fingers touched anymore you might as well be holding hands)

Simon is chasing off any omegas he thinks are a threat to them getting reader, that is THEIR alpha, paws OFF (rip to anyone reader was halfheartedly going on dates with, this man is gonna become those people's sleep paralysis demon)

Hope you enjoy!! :3 💕💕 i lovedddd writing this sm omg

See, the thing is, you’d always thought of yourself as a decent Alpha. Not overbearing, not egotistical, not a demanding freak- just capable and steady. But you weren’t extraordinary. Not the kind of Alpha Omegas like them would look at twice. And so, while you worked alongside the men of Task Force 141 you convinced yourself to be content with just admiring them from a distance.

You couldn’t help it. They were perfect, as far as you were concerned. Perfect, and fully out of your league.

Surely, Omegas like them would want someone better. Someone stronger. You’d told yourself that so many times it was practically your mantra, the only way you’d be able to stop yourself from pursuing them. They deserved someone more charismatic, more confident- an Alpha who could match their brilliance. Not someone like you, fumbling through conversations with them, struggling to keep your feelings in check.

But they’d already decided. They didn’t need a flashy Alpha or someone who tried too hard. What they wanted was you. The only problem? You didn’t seem to realize it, no matter how obvious they made it.

John took the lead, naturally. He knew you were cautious and perhaps a little insecure when it came to relationships (it was fucking visible in you, silly Alpha. He scoffs each time you draw back, frustrated), so he made it his mission to draw you in- slowly and subtly. His plan was meticulous: get you comfortable, build trust, and create opportunities for you to spend more time with them so you’d see that they only want you.

Maybe then you’d break out of that stupid shell you’ve put yourself in.

He’d started baking regularly, a habit you hadn’t even known he had. At least once a week, he’d show up at your place with a tin of cookies, a loaf of fresh bread, or a perfectly golden pie. “Thought I’d share,” he’d say casually, though the slight smirk tugging at his lips told a different story. He peers at you, letting his scent coil just a bit more. “I hope you don’t mind the amount of cream. I happen to like cream pies a lot.”

The way to an Alpha’s heart is through their stomach, and all that.

If he wasn’t offering you baked goods, he was asking for your help to make said baked goods. “Ran out of sugar again,” he’d sigh, handing you an empty container. “Mind sparing a bit?”

It was ridiculous, downright unbelievable how often he supposedly ran out of baking supplies. But his visits became a highlight of your week, and the lingering looks he gave you left your heart pounding long after he was gone.

The one time he’d handfed you, watching you lick the syrup from his fingers with half-lidded eyes, still lives in your mind rent-free.

Kyle took a softer, more personal approach. He wasn’t above using the pretense of friendship to spend time with you, often inviting you to casual dates- grabbing coffee, going to the movies, or just walking through town and shopping. Every invitation was framed innocently, but there was always a little extra effort behind it. He’d pick a movie he knew you’d like, suggest places he knew you’d find interesting, and ensure that others you unfortunately knew joined just enough to make it seem less like a date.

Somehow, though, those other people always mysteriously canceled. It was never anything dramatic- just a sudden cold, a scheduling conflict, or a “something came up, sorry.” Eventually, it would be just you and a very smug Kyle, sitting close enough that your knees brushed or reaching for popcorn at the same time. Once, right as the bowl emptied and you both reached for it, Kyle simply thought fuck it and held your hand.

On one occasion, you both shared a bowl of spaghetti and ended up with the scene from the Lady and the Tramp.

It was so painfully obvious to everyone.

Except you.

“It’s not a coincidence,” Kyle muttered to Johnny one evening after you left, both of them sitting in the spot you were in, bathing in the leftover warmth and scent. “How can they not notice?”

Speaking of Johnny; he’s barely keeping himself together. Subtlety in missions are a must sometimes, but he doesn’t want to that with you anymore. He was just so, so, so frustrated with your obliviousness. What more does he need to do to show you that he- that they- want you?

He’s been dropping so many hints; half-jokes about Omegas waiting begging to be swept off their feet, suggestive winks when you compliment him in that lovely, adoring tone of yours. Once, while watching a romantic tv show, he’d sighed loudly and very pointedly said: “If only someone would claim me.”

“If ye don’t figure it out soon,” he growled at the others one night, pacing back and forth like a wild beast and probably on his way to leave a dent in the carpet, “I’m showin’ up at their doorstep with nothin’ but a red bow, like some bloody Christmas prezzie, I swear to god.”

John sighs, rolling his eyes. “You do that, and I’m leaving you on their porch.”

“That’s exactly what I’m askin’ for!”

Simon took the quietest but most direct approach. Just not exactly direct towards you. While the others worked to get closer to you, Simon focused on eliminating what he saw as obstacles: other Omegas who thought you were free for the taking. It didn’t matter if they were serious or just someone you’d gone on a casual date with- Simon saw them all as threats.

He didn’t have to say much to scare them off. A single cold glare from across the room, sharp bursts of his scent, or a low, menacing comment was usually enough to send them packing. He didn’t care if it was excessive.

You were his Alpha. You were their Alpha, and no one else had a right to you.

But even Simon softened when it came to you. He couldn’t put all his thoughts, all his feelings into words, so he did them with his actions. Quiet protectiveness, gentle, careful touches. Moments of fleeting vulnerabilities shared between you and him.

He was always there for you. Even if you didn’t know you need him with you.

Still, despite all their efforts, you remained convinced that they weren’t interested.

In the end, to no one’s surprise, it’s Johnny who snaps. Johnny, so close to his heat, so absolutely done with your obliviousness and the Omegas that aren’t them talking with you when you should be only focused on them.

He doesn’t care; leaves the carefully made nest with your stolen shirts and none of the others stop him when he just. Drags your surprised self to the nest.

“Johnny! You-“

“I want you.” He hisses, bares his teeth all sharp and desperate. “We want you. And damn it, we will have you.”

And well, who are you to even say no when this is all you have wanted?

2K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 11 months ago

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Red Or Papaya : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: when fred vasseur starts hanging out at mclaren, people are wondering why. little do people know there’s a little connection joining these together into an unlikely friendship

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landowins101, landoscarfan and 4,589 others

f1gossip: fans are questioning why ferrari team principal fred vasseur was found in the mclaren garage over the weekend, inviting himself to be of the celebrations for lando norris’ maiden victory.

574 comments

username1: i don't get it, why would you celebrate with a rival team?? 🤔

username2: it's the big smile on his face for me... 😭

username3: i did not have this on my bingo card wtf is going on

username4: is there something going on here that we don't know about?

username5: have i blinked and missed a chapter or something? 🤯

username6: pls tell me someone can make sense of this, the most unlikely friendship ever

username7: has he not got his own team to be celebrating a podium with?

username8: i've been staring at these photos for hours and i still don't get it

landonorris: idk what you’re implying…clearly I’m just a popular guy 😂🤷🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 784,103 others

ynvasseur: finishing the season with a little company on my summer adventures this year 💕☀️

64,506 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: and here i was thinking i was gonna get to spend my summer with you 💔

ynvasseur: @/alexandrasaintmleux don't tell lando but i plan on bailing just for you

username9: how have they managed to keep this a secret from us all season

landonorris: gonna be the best summer break ever! 🫶🏻

ynvasseur: @/landonorris cannot wait to spend nonstop sunny days with you 💕💕

username10: well...at least now we know why fred and lando are besties

charles_leclerc: sorry have you forgotten the team that your dad is principal for??? 😂

username11: the only mclaren x ferrari crossover i support is carlando

username12: i don't understand how none of us have picked up on this

carlossainz55: hello traitor 🙄

ynvasseur: @/carlossainz55 says the man who's driven for most of the teams on the grid wow 🙂‍↕️

carlossainz55: @/ynvasseur gotta pay the bills somehow kiddo

username13: i can't deal with how cute these photos are omg

username14: no one speak to me for the foreseeable whilst i get over this 😭

oscarpiastri: can you make sure that he comes back in one piece please 😊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, ynvasseur and 1,483,172 others

britishgq: in this week’s edition we catch up with f1 driver lando norris who opens up about his new relationship with the daughter of ferrari’s team principal yn vasseur 🇬🇧🏎️

173,492 comments

username15: obsessed with the fact it was carlos that actually introduced the two of them

username16: he actually sounds like he's so in love this is adorable

landonorris: thank you for a great time british gq!! ❤️

username17: thank you gq for giving us all the gossip we've been searching for

username18: not carlos setting lando up like a proud dad 😂

danielricciardo: how is an article the way I’m finding out about this relationship 😭

username19: i think daniel might've been sleeping under a rock

username20: okay but who does yn support in the constructors next year now?? 🤔

username21: he's literally gushing about her, look how happy he is with her!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, ynvasseur and 349,604 others

mclaren: yn vasseur found hanging around the mclaren garage, does this mean she’s ours now? @/scuderiaferrari

42,182 comments

username22: ferrari come and get your girl...

landonorris: not even safe in my own garage from pap like photos 🤦🏻‍♂️

mclaren: @/landonorris admin sends their apologies

username23: i'm so happy they feel comfortable enough to be public with each other now

oscarpiastri: welcome to the best team in the paddock yn 🤝

username24: the way he hides his face in his neck omg lando

username25: the hottest couple to ever appear on the grid, no one can argue with me on that

danielricciardo: since when were mclaren such a team of stalkers lmao 😂😂😂

username26: just imagine the ferrari admin having a breakdown seeing these photos

username27: is this a transition to papaya that we're seeing before us?? 🧡

ynvasseur: damn i thought you guys were supposed to protect me not throw me under the bus

username28: lando can't even breathe around his own team anymore hahah

scudieraferrari: oh it's on, we're not giving yn up without a fight

mclaren: @/scuderiaferrari when you catch us up in the constructors we'll answer your calls...

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 747,960 others

ynvasseur: i call these photos sneaking into the opposition’s garage and hiding from your dad 😂

67,323 comments

username29: stop the way he looks at her…

landonorris: calling security to get you outta here stalker

ynvasseur: @/landonorris that's alright, i'll just head back over to ferrari ❤️

landonorris: @/ynvasseur wait i'm sorry come back!!! 🧡

username30: as if fred would ever stop yn from going to see the love of her life

maxverstappen1: why are you turning a grown man into a squishy baby wtf is happening here

username31: I watched the interview for the first pic earlier and his face lit up as soon as he saw yn

carmenmmundt: come and visit me like you come and visit lando

ynvasseur: @/carmenmmundt i'm on my way bby 🏃🏻‍♀️

username32: I wish I had a guy who looked at me like this too

oscarpiastri: this kid has not stopped talking about you since you showed up at the garage today 🥺

username33: not yn still calling mclaren the opposition…she’s a ferrari girl still!!

username34: @/username33 she's still bitter at them for peeping on her and lando lmao

georgerussell63: i second oscar here pls tell your boyfriend to change the record

username35: his smile has me feeling things ngl

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 937,506 others

ynvasseur: what ferrari want you to see vs what I get to see…i promise my dad and lando are friends 🥺🍻

78,475 comments

username36: carlando is still in my heart sorry fred 🫶🏻

carlossainz55: i for one am disgusted that ferrari would try and crop papa vasseur out like this...

ynvasseur: @/carlossainz55 thank you for your love and support during these tricky times

username37: i love how fred just can’t stay away whenever lando is near

scuderiaferrari: admin says to stop exposing our posts like this 💔

username38: they’ve got such a special friendship this is adorable

iamrebeccad: can you tell carlos to stop nattering with your boyfriend and get back to the garage so we can go home

ynvasseur: @/iamrebeccad sorry but carlando are refusing to separate

username39: is that fred giving lando a beer two wtf 😂😂

landonorris: no one can deny that fred vasseur now officially loves me more than his own drivers

username40: poor carlos third wheeling the true friendship here 😭

oscarpiastri: wondering where my team mate is only to see he's gone back to his ex

danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri he'll flirt with anyone that guy

username41: ferrari stop depriving us of sweet son in law lando content pls

username42: the look in fred’s eyes, a proud dad if I ever saw one ❤️

charles_leclerc: patiently waiting for fred to invite me for a beer like he does lando like... 😭

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 3,859,684 others

landonorris: we couldn’t decide on red or orange so we settled on blue 💙

583,708 comments

username43: it’s not fair how adorable these two are…

carlossainz55: someone just pass me the sick bucket now please

username44: imagine being poor yn and having to pick a side 😂

maxverstappen1: does that mean you support…red bull???

landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 absolutely not stfu 🤮

username45: forever my fave couple in the paddock

username46: it’s a good job blue suits you guys so well! 💙

ynvasseur: the only person i'd wear any other colour but red for

username47: fred must be so happy his daughter has found such a good guy in lando

danielricciardo: tell me you're a secret red bull fan without telling me you're a secret red bull fan 🤷🏻

ynvasseur: @/danielricciardo 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

username48: if these two ever breakup i will officially give up on love

charles_leclerc: i hope you look after our girl norris

landonorris: @/charles_leclerc i'll treat her like the queen that she is dw 👑

username49: yn really is winning at life isn’t she

username50: look at their faces my heart is racing 😍

oscarpiastri: can you put yn down and hurry your ass up to briefing now

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

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alohajix · 3 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐚𝐩𝐞

Description: she said she wasn’t nervous. She said she'd never done this before. But then he walked in—and made her forget every lie she told herself. The Casting Tape — you only need to watch it once to come back for more.

Warnings: this one-shot includes explicit sexual content, including fingering, oral sex (M/F), face-fucking, rough grinding, dirty talk, praise kink, light choking, spanking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), and graphic language. Readers +18.

Words count: ~ 7K.

I understand you guys really enjoyed “First Time for Everything”. So here’s a new one-shot I've been working on for a while, featuring pornstar!harry once again.

please enjoyyy💕

*****

I almost didn’t walk through the door. It looked too normal from the outside—just a nondescript black building sandwiched between a vape shop and a custom auto wrap place. No sign. No logo. Just a metal door and a tiny keypad. I stood there for a full minute, staring at my reflection in the door’s narrow glass panel, wondering what the hell I was doing. My fingers fidgeted with the zipper on my hoodie as I debated bailing. But then I remembered rent. And how many hours I’d spent reading that post.

“Paid casting opportunity. Professional, safe, filmed. No pressure to continue. Just be yourself.”

So I buzzed in. A soft click, and I stepped inside. The air was cool, sterile, quiet. A short hallway led to a room that looked more like a YouTube set than anything porn-related—white walls, gray backdrop, soft box lights aimed at a plain black leather couch. A camera was already set up on a tripod, its little red light blinking lazily like it was waiting. There was no one else in the room, just a low table with a water bottle and a clipboard. I approached it like it might bite.

“Hey there,” a voice called from behind me—low, male, casual. “You can grab a seat. We’ll start in a second.”

I turned to find a guy with a headset leaning against the doorframe, sipping coffee. He looked more like someone who worked in tech support than adult film, and he barely glanced at me. That helped a little. I gave him a tight smile and sat down on the couch, tucking one leg under the other. The camera stared back at me. I wiped my sweaty palms on my denim skirt.

“You go by your real name or a stage name?” the voice asked.

I hesitated. “Stage name.”

He chuckled. “Smart. What should we call you?”

“…Lola.” I don’t know where it came from. I didn’t even know anyone named Lola.

“Cute,” he said. “Alright, Lola. We’re just gonna ask you a few questions. Keep your eyes on the camera, speak clearly, be yourself.”

I nodded once. The camera light turned solid red.

“Tell us how old you are and why you’re here.”

My voice came out a little too fast. “Twenty-two. I—uh—I heard about this through a friend of a friend. Thought it might be… interesting.”

“And have you done anything like this before?”

I forced a smile. “Not professionally.”

He chuckled again, friendly but disinterested. “Good answer. So—this is a soft casting. No pressure to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We just want to see how you come across on camera. If it feels natural, maybe we’ll try a short chemistry test.”

My stomach flipped. “Chemistry test?”

“With a partner,” he clarified. “Clothed or not. Touching or not. Totally up to you.”

I swallowed hard. “And who’s the partner?”

“Hey, man,” the guy said suddenly, glancing over my shoulder. “You mind stepping in for a quick test?”

I didn’t hear footsteps. I felt them. Slow. Heavy. Purposeful. And then I heard his voice.

“Yeah. I’ve got time.” I turned. And immediately forgot how to breathe.

He walked in wearing a black T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair tucked under a gray beanie, tattooed arms on full display. Calm. Comfortable. Like he belonged here. And when his eyes met mine—green, curious, knowing—I had to look away before I gave something away.

I knew who he was. Everyone who’s ever dipped into amateur porn knew who he was. He wasn’t just a pornstar—he was the pornstar. The one known for making people cry in the best way possible. The one who ruined girls for normal guys. The one I may or may not have watched the night I sent my application in.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice like silk. “I’m Harry.” Of course he was.

I tried to remember how to smile. “Hi.”

He looked me over—slowly, respectfully, but definitely. His gaze dragged from my hoodie to my bare thighs, then up to my lips before meeting my eyes again.

“You okay to keep going?” he asked. “Or just here to talk?” His tone was soft. Patient.

I bit my lip. I should’ve said no. I should’ve kept it simple. But the way he was looking at me… “Let’s try,” I said quietly.

His mouth curled into a half-smile. “We’ll go slow.”

He sat beside me on the couch, leaving just enough space between us that it felt intentional. His thigh brushed mine every time I shifted, and I wasn’t sure if it was on purpose—but I hoped it was.

The camera was still rolling. “You nervous?” he asked, his voice low and almost amused.

“A little,” I admitted. “You’re not exactly a nobody.”

He smiled at that—soft, slow, like he was letting the compliment soak into his skin.

“Well, I’ve done a few of these,” he said, tilting his body slightly toward me. “So if you want to stop at any point, you say the word. We good on that?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Safe word or something?”

“We can use red. If you want to pause, say yellow. But honestly? Just talk to me. I listen.”

God, that shouldn’t have made my stomach twist—but it did. His hand landed gently on my knee. Just a touch. Nothing dirty. But the weight of it made my heart skip.

“Can I touch you a little more?” he asked.

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes.”

He slid his hand up my thigh, slow and deliberate, until his fingers curled around the bare skin just beneath the hem of my skirt. His pinky brushed the side of my underwear. He didn’t move further. He just… held me.

“See? You’re already shaking a little,” he said, voice soft like a secret.

“I’m not,” I lied.

His thumb moved lazily across my thigh. “You are. That’s okay, though. Nervous is normal. But you look good nervous.”

I smirked despite myself. “Is that your line?”

“No,” he said, leaning in just a little. “That’s the truth.”

His other hand reached up, fingers playing with the zipper of my hoodie. He didn’t pull it down right away—he just watched my face.

“Can I?”

I nodded again. “Yeah.”

He tugged the zipper down, slow as hell. I didn’t wear a bra on purpose—I’d told myself it was about being comfortable, but I’d also known what kind of job this was. I’d wanted to feel like I was ready for it, even if I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. He pushed the hoodie off my shoulders, revealing my thin tank top underneath—white, ribbed, tight. My nipples were already hard beneath the fabric.

His eyes dropped for half a second. “Fuck.”

“What?” I teased.

“You’re hot.” His voice dipped lower, rougher. “Didn’t expect that.”

I grinned. “You didn’t look me up before this?”

He leaned closer, lips near my ear. “Didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Fuck. That got to me. I shifted in my seat, squeezing my thighs together, and his hand didn’t miss it.

“You get turned on easily, don’t you?” he murmured.

“Only when someone says shit like that.”

He chuckled, and it vibrated straight through me. “Alright then. Let’s see how much you can take before we even get your clothes off.”

He turned to face me fully, his hand now resting between my thighs, thumb pressing lightly at the crease where leg met hip. I was still covered, but it felt dangerously intimate.

“Look at me,” he said. I did.

His hand moved to my waist, sliding under the hem of my shirt. His palm was warm on my bare skin, fingertips grazing my ribcage, tracing just under the curve of my breast. His thumb brushed upward, catching the edge of my nipple through the fabric—and I gasped, barely holding still.

“Sensitive?” he asked, eyes still locked on mine. I nodded, biting my lip.

He pinched lightly—just enough to make me jerk—and then soothed the spot with his palm.

“You’re already breathing like you’ve been at this for an hour.”

“Maybe I just like the way you touch,” I whispered.

He grinned again. “Yeah?”

His other hand cupped the back of my neck, fingers sliding into my hair as he leaned in. “I’m gonna kiss you now. Okay?”

I nodded. “Please.” And then he kissed me. Slow. Firm. One hand holding my jaw just right while the other teased under my shirt. His lips moved against mine like he had all the time in the world. He tasted like mint and something just a little bit sweet—god, it was unfair how good he was at this.

My mouth opened for him on instinct, tongue brushing his as he deepened the kiss. I whimpered before I meant to, and he smiled against my lips.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

He pulled me onto his lap. I didn’t even realize I’d moved until I felt his thighs beneath mine, the stretch of my skirt riding up, the thick press of him already hard beneath me.

“You wanna keep going?” he asked, hand splayed on my lower back.

“Yes.”

“You wanna keep your clothes on for now?”

I nodded again. “Let me stay like this.”

He gave a slow, approving nod. “Smart girl.”

I started to grind—tentatively, testing—and he held me tighter.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “That’s it. Just like that.”

His hands stayed on my waist, guiding me. My panties were soaked through already, and he hadn’t even touched me properly. His cock pressed up against my center through both layers, and the friction was delicious.

“Feel what you’re doing to me?” he whispered. I nodded. “Good. Don’t stop.” I didn’t.

I rocked against him slowly, rhythmically, trying to match the pace of his hands, trying not to let my moans get too loud. But the fabric was slick, and I was clenching around nothing, desperate for more. He leaned up to kiss me again, slower this time, while grinding back into me with little thrusts of his hips.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he whispered. “Using me to get yourself off. All clothed. So dirty, baby.”

God, baby—the way it rolled off his tongue nearly made me come.

“I wanna see you fall apart,” he said against my lips. “But not yet. Gotta take my time with you.”

I whimpered, hands clutching his shoulders. “Why?”

“‘Cause I want it to be unforgettable.”

I didn’t mean to drop to my knees. It just happened. One second, I was straddling him, moaning into his mouth, and the next, I was slipping down between his legs, hands trailing over his thighs like they belonged there. He didn’t stop me. Didn’t say a word—just leaned back on the couch and watched me with that slow-burning smirk, his chest rising and falling like he already knew what I was going to do next.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice husky.

I nodded as I settled between his thighs, reaching for the waistband of his sweats. “You’ve been hard since I got here.”

His brow ticked up. “And you think that means you get to do something about it?”

I looked up at him, tilted my head innocently. “I know I do.”

He grinned. “Cocky.”

“I learned from the best,” I said, tugging his sweats down just enough to free him. And fuck.

I’d seen it before—on screens, in videos—but nothing prepared me for the way it looked up close. Thick, long, already leaking at the tip. Veins along the shaft. His entire body was unfair, but this? This was just cruel.

I wrapped my hand around him slowly.

“You gonna stare at it all day, or you gonna do something?” he teased.

I licked a long stripe from the base to the tip, just to shut him up. His breath caught.

“Mouth open,” he murmured. I obeyed, letting my tongue hang out as I stroked him slowly. He was heavy in my hand, warm and twitching, and when I finally took him into my mouth, I moaned like it was for me, not him.

“Fucking hell,” he groaned, his head tipping back. “You’re better than half the girls I’ve filmed with.”

I pulled back just enough to say, “That supposed to make me feel special?”

He looked down at me with a grin. “It should.” Then he shifted his hips forward a little, his hand slipping into my hair. “Hold still,” he said. “Let me fuck your mouth a little.”

I whimpered, nodding as he gathered my hair in his fist and guided me back down. His thrusts were slow at first, controlled, testing. He pushed past my lips and onto my tongue, letting me feel every inch. I hollowed my cheeks around him, drool already sliding down my chin. The angle made my throat ache—but I didn’t care. He watched every second.

“That’s it,” he praised. “Look at me. Eyes up. Fuck—just like that.” I moaned around him, and he groaned in return, gripping my hair tighter. “You like this?” he asked. “Being used a little?”

I blinked up at him, spit trailing from my lip to the base of his cock. “Yes.”

“How filthy are you, baby?”

I swallowed him deeper before answering. “Wanna choke on it.”

He smirked, that filthy edge sharpening in his eyes. “Greedy girl.”

He held my jaw and started to fuck into my mouth harder, sloppier. My mascara was running—I could feel it—and my knees were going numb, but I didn’t care. Not when he was groaning and panting above me, thumb wiping spit from the corner of my mouth.

“Open wider,” he growled. “Let me all the way in.”

I did. He pushed in until the tip hit the back of my throat, and I gagged—but he didn’t stop. He stayed there for a second, watching the tears spill down my cheeks before pulling back with a wet, obscene pop.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” I blinked up at him, dazed and wrecked, lips puffy and slick. “You want me to come in your mouth?” he asked.

“No.” He raised a brow. “I want more than that.” He stared at me for a beat. Then he reached down, grabbed my arm, and pulled me gently to my feet.

“Take your clothes off.”

I hesitated, chest heaving. “All of them?”

“All of them,” he said softly. “Want to see what kind of mess I’ve made.”

I peeled off my hoodie first, even though it had already been unzipped. My tank top followed, sticky with sweat. Then my skirt. Then my panties—soaked, clinging to my thighs. His eyes drank me in.

“You’re soaked.”

“You made me like this.”

He stood up—slow, deliberate—and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth, then my neck, then lower, until he was kneeling in front of me.

“You ever squirt before?” he asked, voice low.

I swallowed hard. “No.”

He smirked. “Might today.” Then he leaned in and dragged his tongue across my inner thigh.

He didn’t go for my pussy right away. Instead, he kissed every inch around it—my thighs, the crease of my hip, the patch of skin just above my mound. His hands wrapped around my legs, holding me steady as he took his time. The anticipation had my stomach fluttering, my cunt clenching around nothing, desperate to be touched.

“Please,” I whispered, shifting.

He looked up at me from between my legs, his lips shiny with spit. “Yeah?”

I nodded, breath shaky. “I—I need—”

He slid one finger up my slit, slow as hell. “You need this?” he asked, teasing my clit with the lightest touch. “Or my mouth?”

“Both.”

He grinned. “Good answer.” Then he dove in.

His mouth latched around my clit like he’d missed it, like he owned it. His tongue flicked and sucked, alternating between slow pressure and fast strokes that made my legs tremble. I cried out, one hand gripping the back of the couch, the other tangled in his hair. He moaned against me when I tugged, and I felt it vibrate through my whole body.

“F-fuck,” I gasped. “Harry—”

“You taste so sweet,” he muttered between licks. “Could stay here all day.”

He pushed two fingers into me while his tongue kept working, curling them just right. My back arched off the couch, a moan ripping from my throat so loud I was sure the mic picked it up.

“That’s it,” he said. “Let them hear how good I’m making you feel.”

I was already on the edge, too fast, too intense—and he knew it.

“You close?” he asked, sliding his fingers faster, deeper, hitting every nerve ending I had.

I nodded, gasping. “Yes—yes—fuck, don’t stop—” He stopped. Pulled back. Fingers still inside me, but barely moving. I whimpered. “Why—”

“Cause I want you to come on my cock, not my tongue.”

“Fucking mean,” I whispered.

He smirked. “You like it.” I hated how right he was.

He stood and kicked off his sweats fully this time, leaving him completely naked—tall, lean, toned. Tattoos stretched across his chest, down his arms. His cock was heavy and thick, standing up proudly, still slick from my mouth. He grabbed a condom from the table behind him—but I stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“Don’t,” I said softly. His eyes locked on mine.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I’m clean. On the pill. I want to feel all of you.”

His jaw clenched. “Fuck, you’re gonna ruin me.”

He climbed back onto the couch, pulling me into his lap again. This time, we were both naked. Skin against skin. He lined himself up with one hand, the other gripping my waist.

“Take it slow,” he murmured. I did. I sank down on him inch by inch, gasping at the stretch, the burn, the way he filled me up so deep I thought I might break.

He kept eye contact the whole time. “Look at you,” he said. “Taking it so well.”

I whimpered when I bottomed out, thighs shaking.

“So fucking tight,” he growled. “You weren’t made for this, were you?”

I moaned. “Maybe I was made for you.” That broke something in him.

His hands gripped my hips, and he started to move—slow thrusts upward that hit just right. I rocked against him, chasing friction, rolling my hips as he fucked up into me.

“Say my name,” he ordered.

“Harry.”

“Louder.”

“Harry.”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“So fucking good,” I gasped. “You’re so deep—fuck—it’s so good.” His hand came up to my throat, not squeezing, just holding.

“You’re gonna come like this?” he asked. “Like a needy little slut in my lap?”

I nodded frantically. “Yes—please, I need it—I need to come—”

“Then come.”

I shattered. The orgasm hit like a wave, crashing through me in pulses that left me crying out his name, clinging to him, hips still rocking even as I trembled. He held me through it, whispered praise into my ear.

“Good girl,” he breathed. “So fucking good for me.” But he wasn’t done. He flipped me over onto the couch, face-down, ass up. “Not finished with you yet,” he growled.

He slid back into me easily, grabbing my hips and fucking into me hard now—rough, deep, animalistic. My cheek pressed against the cushion, mouth open as he pounded into me.

“You want it rough?” he panted. “You want to feel how hard you made me?”

“Y-yes—fuck—yes—”

He slapped my ass, hard. “Say you love it.”

“I fucking love it.”

“Say who’s fucking you.”

“Harry—Harry’s fucking me—please don’t stop—”

He leaned over me, one hand tangled in my hair, the other holding my throat as he fucked me from behind. Skin slapping, breath ragged, everything filthy and perfect.

“Gonna come on you,” he groaned. “Wanna see you dripping.”

“Yes,” I begged. “Do it—please—come on me—”

He pulled out just in time, stroking himself fast before spilling hot all over my lower back and ass, groaning through gritted teeth. I lay there, trembling, dripping, wrecked. Breathing like I’d run a marathon.

He exhaled a long breath, letting it hang in the quiet between us. The only sound now was the soft hum of the camera still rolling. The red light blinked steadily, like it had witnessed every filthy, raw second of what just happened. Harry sat back, eyes scanning over me like he wasn’t sure if he was done yet—or just trying to memorize how I looked. Wrecked. Flushed. My hair a mess. My thighs still trembling.

“Stay there a sec,” he said, voice a little rougher than before.

I blinked up at him, cheek still pressed to the couch cushion, and nodded. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a warm towel. He didn’t rush—just knelt beside me, gently wiping me clean, taking his time like he actually cared. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was just good at playing the part. But something about the way his fingers grazed my skin, soft and unhurried, made my chest ache.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, gaze flicking up to mine.

I nodded. “Yeah. Just… that was a lot.”

A slow grin pulled at his mouth. “Good lot or bad lot?”

“Really good.”

He handed me the towel and stood up to grab water bottles. When he tossed one to me, I caught it with shaky hands.

“You looked like you’ve done that before,” he said, sitting down beside me again—close, but not touching.

“I haven’t,” I replied, twisting the cap off. “Not like that.”

He raised a brow. “You sure?”

I smiled. “Trust me. I’d remember if someone ever made me feel like that before.” He went quiet, watching me sip.

“You ever actually plan on watching the footage?” I looked at him. At the blinking red light still recording.

“I kind of want to,” I admitted.

He nodded slowly. “I’ll show you mine… if you come back and film another one.” I stared at him, half smiling, half stunned.

“You saying that to everyone who comes through here?”

“Nope.” He leaned in just slightly, voice lower. “Just the ones who moan my name like they mean it.”

I laughed, flushed, and shook my head. “You’re dangerous.”

He smirked. “Only on camera.” I didn’t believe that for a second. But I wanted to find out.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #pornstar!harry #masterlist

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling.

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy.

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it.

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way.

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up.

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs.

Liam folds.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants.

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat.

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.”

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.”

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak.

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?”

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.”

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins.

“Fuck you, Miller.”

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.”

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes.

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.”

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.”

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.”

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.”

“You should’ve thought of that before.”

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.”

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?”

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.”

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.”

“You can’t leave, where would you go?”

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world.

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes.

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing.

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color.

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded.

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate.

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart.

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything.

And it seemed like you were no exception.

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners.

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear.

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.”

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there.

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam.

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much.

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self.

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another.

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel.

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down.

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.”

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you.

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.”

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?”

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow.

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.”

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.”

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue.

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?”

“God, yes.”

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard.

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most.

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh.

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.”

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion.

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed.

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?”

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?”

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.”

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage.

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue.

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight.

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin.

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.”

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?”

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.”

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You sink to your knees immediately after that.

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek.

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks.

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.”

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.”

“Get on with it then.”

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock.

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth.

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.”

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass.

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—”

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses.

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.”

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.”

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.”

“Is this pussy mine?”

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.”

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning.

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?”

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!”

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking.

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger.

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?”

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust.

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words.

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously.

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?”

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.”

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.”

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him.

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.”

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.”

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!”

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you.

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!”

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself.

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.”

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful.

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone.

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—”

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out.

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips.

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls.

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.”

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss.

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss.

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?”

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you.

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm.

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides.

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together.

“I think he left, sweetheart.”

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.”

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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princesssarahcam · 3 months ago

Text

much needed girls night w my boo @baileejones 💕

#bails💕#sarah cameron #sarah cameron rp #obx rp #outer banks rp #outer banks #obx kooks #oc obx

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prettymfwrites · 5 months ago

Note

paige x reader where in they pretend to be together because reader’s ex was in the bar with a new girl so r decides to just randomly kiss p? if you know that one scene from nick & norah’s infinite playlist it’s something like that 💕 i hope u give this one a try!

Not Pretending

Paige bueckers x female reader

Hope this doesn't disappoint! 🙏🏾

Sorry for any mistakes🙃

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･* *･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

The dim glow of the bar’s neon lights painted the room in shades of amber and red, the bass of the music reverberating through the floor as people crowded around tables and leaned against the bar. You were nursing your drink, trying to ignore the knot tightening in your stomach. Across the room, there they were: your ex, laughing and leaning into someone new, their hand brushing against hers in a way that felt far too familiar.

"Of all the places..." you muttered to yourself, tilting your glass back and downing what was left of your drink.

“Did you say something?” Paige asked from beside you, leaning her elbows casually on the counter. She was dressed in her usual relaxed streetwear, her blonde hair tucked into a braided pony. You had met her a few times before through mutual friends, and she’d somehow ended up as your companion for the evening after everyone else had bailed.

“Nothing. Just talking to my drink,” you replied with a forced laugh, setting your glass down.

Paige raised a brow, following your line of sight. “Oh, yikes. Is that your ex?”

“Unfortunately,” you said, trying to act unaffected. “And look who’s already moved on. A whole two months, and they’re out here playing house with someone new.”

Paige grimaced. “That’s rough.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered.

You tried to focus on anything else, but every laugh and touch between your ex and their date felt like salt in an open wound. You shifted in your seat, your jaw clenching as you turned away.

“You okay?” Paige asked, her tone softening.

“Yeah, totally fine. Just love seeing my replacement in 4K,” you said sarcastically, reaching for your empty glass before realizing it was, well, empty.

Paige chuckled. “You’re taking this like a champ, though. No tears or dramatic storming out.”

“Oh, I’m dramatic,” you shot back. “Just trying to figure out my next move.”

Paige tilted her head, her curious eyes narrowing. “What kind of move are we talking about here?”

You opened your mouth to answer but froze. An idea—a completely ridiculous, impulsive, and chaotic idea—popped into your head.

“Okay, don’t laugh,” you started, leaning closer to her.

“That’s a great way to make me want to laugh,” Paige teased, but she gestured for you to continue.

“What if...” you began, voice dropping, “you and I pretended to be together? Just for tonight. Nothing serious, just... to make them squirm a little.”

Paige blinked at you, then tilted her head back with a laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, your eyes locked on hers. “Look, you don’t have to do anything crazy. Just... maybe hang out with me for a bit, be my fake girlfriend, and if they look over, we sell it.”

Paige smirked, clearly amused by your sudden proposal. “Okay, two things. One, you’re bold as hell for asking me this. And two... what’s in it for me?”

“I’ll owe you one,” you said quickly. “Big time. Like, I’ll buy you smoothies for a week or whatever you want. Just—please?”

Paige sighed dramatically, but there was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Alright, fine. Let’s do it. But you better make this worth my while.”

“Deal,” you said, standing up and holding out your hand. Paige took it, her grip firm as she followed you away from the bar.

You made sure to walk past your ex’s table, your hand still in Paige’s. As you approached, your ex glanced up, their expression shifting from surprise to something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh, hey,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t noticed them until just now. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Uh, yeah,” your ex stammered, their eyes darting between you and Paige.

“And who’s this?” Paige asked smoothly, slipping her arm around your waist and smiling at your ex.

“This is...” You trailed off, waiting for your ex to fill in the blanks.

“Emily,” they said, gesturing to their date.

“Nice to meet you, Emily,” Paige said, her tone friendly but laced with just enough confidence to make it clear she wasn’t just a random friend. “I’m Paige.”

Your ex opened their mouth to respond, but before they could, you turned to Paige with a grin. “Baby, want to grab a booth? I’m kind of over standing around.”

“Anything for you,” Paige replied, her voice light but convincing as she pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

You swore you heard your ex choke on their drink as Paige led you away, her hand still firmly around your waist.

Once you were seated, you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re a natural.”

Paige shrugged, her smile smug. “What can I say? I commit to the bit.”

“Well, thanks for committing. I owe you one,” you said, leaning back in the booth.

She smiled, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets. “Good. Because I’m holding you to it.”

“No worries,” Paige said, taking a sip of her drink. “Honestly, that was kind of fun. Your ex looked like they were about to combust.”

“Good. They deserve it,” you said, smirking

______________

The night wore on with the two of you sitting close in the booth, trading stories and jokes, the comfortable banter punctuated by occasional glances from your ex across the room. At first, you thought you were imagining it, but each time you looked, there they were—staring, their expression unreadable.

“Yup, they’re watching again,” Paige murmured, sipping her drink.

You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “Think they’re jealous yet?”

Paige smirked, her blue eyes sparkling. “If they’re not, they’re in denial. You’re killing it tonight, by the way.”

You laughed softly. “I think you’re the one doing the heavy lifting here. Thanks for being so... convincing.”

“Convincing?” Paige tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful grin. “Come on, I’m practically Oscar-worthy.”

“Okay, fine. You’re a natural,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

Her gaze lingered on you a second longer than necessary, and you felt your stomach do an unexpected flip. You brushed it off, chalking it up to the adrenaline of the situation.

As the night wound down, the two of you finally decided to leave. Paige stood first, offering you her hand with an exaggerated flourish. “M’lady.”

You laughed but took her hand anyway, letting her pull you to your feet. The warmth of her touch lingered longer than it should have, and as you made your way toward the exit, you couldn’t help but feel hyper-aware of how close she was to you.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed your ex again. They weren’t just glancing this time—they were outright staring, their jaw tight, their date clearly trying to get their attention.

Without thinking, you stopped in your tracks, your heart racing.

“What?” Paige asked, turning to you, her brow furrowed.

“They’re still looking,” you whispered, your voice laced with irritation.

Paige raised a brow. “So? Let them look. You’ve already won.”

But you weren’t satisfied. Something about their gaze, their audacity to act so unbothered when you knew they were bothered, made you want to take things one step further.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you turned to Paige and grabbed her by the front of her jacket, pulling her down toward you.

“What are you—” Paige started, but her words were cut off as your lips pressed against hers.

For a second, it was just you making a point—a kiss meant to sell the charade, to make your ex regret every decision they’d ever made. But then Paige kissed you back.

Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss, and suddenly, it wasn’t about your ex anymore. It was about the way her lips felt against yours, soft and sure, like she’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had. The world around you faded, the noise of the bar and the weight of the past dissolving into nothing.

When you finally broke apart, your breath came in short bursts, and Paige’s eyes were searching yours, her cheeks flushed.

“Are we even pretending anymore?” she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Not at all.”

Paige chuckled softly, her forehead resting against yours. “Good. Because I’m definitely not faking that.”

You laughed, your hand still clutching her jacket as you glanced toward the bar. Your ex was no longer looking—probably too stunned to process what they’d just seen.

“Guess we really sold it, huh?” you teased.

“Yeah, but I think I want a few more practice runs,” Paige said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was hammering in your chest. “Smooth.”

Paige grinned, stepping back but keeping her hand in yours as you walked out of the bar together. The cool night air hit your face, but it didn’t matter. You were too busy stealing glances at the girl beside you, wondering how a fake relationship had turned into something that felt a little too real—and hoping she felt the same.

As if reading your mind, Paige squeezed your hand. “So... about those smoothies you owe me.”

You laughed, the tension between you easing into something warm and comfortable. “I’ll buy you as many as you want. Just... maybe come with me again next time. You know, in case my ex decides to show up somewhere else.”

Paige smirked, leaning closer. “Deal. But next time, we’re not pretending.”

“Not even a little bit.”

I take requests!🧡

#paige x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers x you #paige bueckers #paige bueckers uconn #uconn x reader #uconn wbb #wlw

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grandline-fics · 5 months ago

Note

Law Single red rose pleaaaase!!! 💕💕

DESCRIPTION: Single Red Rose- When your date goes wrong, they come to your rescue

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 984

A/N: Part of the Valentines Day Event! There's already so many requests so thank you all so much for the positive response so far. Thank you @obsessivemuch for being the first request and I hope that this is to your liking.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI

————————

The atmosphere in the island was warm and friendly, civilians held no fear of the Heart Pirates at all. From the moment they surfaced the Polar Tang and all through the day as they gathered supplies and stretched their limbs while enjoying the fresh summer air and sun that they’d greatly missed while traveling under water. Taking advantage of the hospitality of the island and its inhabitants, with there still being so much the crew had yet to see and do, they begged Law to stay an extra couple days. Trying to remain firm, Law told them they would only stay on land for the night and in the morning everyone would be allowed the day to explore or shop, using the time as they saw fit but he wouldn’t allow any longer to distract them from their journey. With bellies filled with delicious food and now everyone enjoying drinks, Law felt himself relax in his seat just happy to sit back and talk with the others while still observing his surroundings.

As he drank slowly his eyes fell onto the table you were sat at. At first he didn’t know why a table with what was obviously a random couple having a date would capture his attention but then he realised what it was. Your body language just radiated tension. Not a shy nervousness that would show in the beginning of a relationship, or a tense anticipation that you were expecting something like a proposal. Your whole body was tense with restrained annoyance. As Law finished his drink he caught you glancing towards the clock on the wall while forcing yourself to give your date a polite nod in response to whatever it was he was saying. You were trying to gauge when you could bail on this date without seeming like the bad guy. From the way your foot idly bounced under the table when the date laughed at his own joke, it was clear you were reaching the end of your patience. Poor you, but it wasn’t his problem.

Law rose and walked to the bar to get a new drink. While he waited for it to be served he couldn't help but have his attention slowly drift back to your shipwreck of a date. From this angle he now had a clear view of your face and now he couldn’t look away, immediately drawn further into observing the interaction you were having with your date. Law watched as you opened your mouth, actually excited for the first time that he’d seen to say something in response only for your date to talk over you. Immediately your bright eyes sharpened and cooled, your jaw tightening and fingers curling into a fist against the table. Honestly, what kind of idiot had you agreed to go out with that couldn’t even pick up on your unhappiness? Were they that self-absorbed?

His own dark gold eyes watched as your date got up from the table and headed for the restroom, Law didn’t miss the disappointment in your eyes to see he wasn’t going for the exit and smirked. Grabbing his drink he approached your table and came to a stop in front of you. You blinked and for a moment thought your date had unfortunately returned faster than you’d hoped, only to blink in surprise to see who was now in front of you. You’d heard pirates had arrived and you were familiar with this man’s face after having seen it in the papers more than enough times. You wondered if he knew that the photos and posters did not do his attractiveness justice. Deciding this intrusion was a lot more exciting than the torture that was your date you smiled at Law. “Can I help you?”

“Now that’s not fair, that was going to be my line.” Law told you with a small chuckle. “If you’re being held hostage by that guy just say the word.”

“Oh I’ve been warned against this kind of thing.” You hummed playfully. “Offers of help usually come at a price.”

“Can’t I just offer to be nice?”

“Aren't you supposed to be a pirate? Does being nice go against your code?”

“So long as the Marines don’t find out my reputation is safe.” Law explained, his smirk growing as you laughed. Honestly your date fell further and further down in his regard by the second. “So? Need my help?”

“We still haven’t discussed payment.”

“Nothing much, just a walk through the city?”

“Can’t say no to a fair exchange like that. You’ve got yourself a deal.” You conceded, sitting back in your seat. This conversation was the most fun you’d had all evening and you were curious to see what Law would do. You tilted your head when Law set his drink down and took your hand, pulling you to your feet and leading you to the door. “Really? Just walking out is your big idea?”

“I’ve had your date trapped in the restrooms since he left the table. Didn't you wonder what was taking him so long?” Law explained, grinned at your shocked expression. As a precaution he’d had his room ability activated from the second he and the crew entered the bar, just in case any of them needed to make a quick escape. When your date was away he’d shifted the large boxes from the alley outside to block the restroom doors. All Law had really needed was your say-so to continue spending time with him. He dropped his gaze down when you looped your arm through his as you both walked through the busy nighttime streets. “So where to first? You’re the local here, not me.”

“Well the city’s pretty big. I can’t exactly show you everything in one night.” You explained lightly with a smile.

“Well aren’t you lucky? My crew and I won’t be leaving for a few days.”

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya , @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost , @dindjarins1ut , @irumawife , @laidenbreecatchall , @redwolfxx , @jevoislesbrasdemer , @schanwow

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erodasfishtacos · 4 months ago

Text

It’s Like I Paid For It (I’m Gonna Pay For This) (Sugar!baby)

prompt: part II of sugar!baby

word count: 8.5k+ warnings: mentions of trauma, nightmares, and men objectifying women.

||part one||

author's note:

I upload a piece of writing every 1-2 days.

There are 7 more parts up of this collection & still being written

I recently started a second tier called The OG Tier where 2

one shots (1-4kish) are posted a week.

There are currently 400+ pieces available to read

Tier I - $3 USD where you get access to main stories, everything except the mini one shots.

Tier II - $5 USD where you get access to every piece of writing!

you can check it out here

first fifteen to click here can get a free $5 membership for a month<3

enjoy 💕

+ There is a brief moment where YN wants to pull up her phone and order another Uber to take her right back home.

Harry tries to steady his facial features but it’s difficult with the shock that must be wracking through his body at this point.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since YN had told him to go fuck himself and that she didn’t need his money.

And now she was here, for his money, in the sickest turn of events.

There’s a man who exits behind Harry, with a briefcase and backpack on, who looks to possibly be his assistant that would be coming along on the trip.

YN already signed the contract.

It would be sitting on her boss’ desk already or even filed away neatly by this point.

She would one-hundred percent lose her job as a sugar baby with this company if she bailed on such a high-paying opportunity which she shouldn’t turn down for her own financial benefit either.

YN decided then and there that she can suck it up for three days.

She would be lying if she hadn’t been thinking about last night all day while she was getting ready for this trip, that her mind hadn’t kept drifting to when he was helping her move in his lap.

Then it quickly morphed into something that churned her stomach, that ugly feeling of waking up to coldness, to being rushed out like she was disposable and that the sex meant nothing.

YN had never felt a connection like that physically and emotionally during sex, even with past relationships.

Before she had fallen asleep that night, Harry had kissed lightly along her shoulders as he spooned her - that maybe it could turn into something more.

His attractiveness was no less startling the second time they met.

He was in the same suit that YN had seen him changing into that very morning with his hair much more neatly styled than when she had been running her fingers through it.

He was powerful, it was obvious in the way that he held himself, and showed-off the broadness of his shoulders, the muscle of his chest, he knew he was handsome.

YN, however, knew what she had to offer as well - looks wise.

She had come dressed in a comfy, yet expensive co-ord, for the long plane ride - a pair of loose sweatpants and a ribbed bralette, a fluffy jacket on to avoid the harsh winds of the winter weather.

Her hair was up in a tight, high ponytail that helped show off her best features, light makeup, and an overall appearance that it took little effort to make her look as good as she did.

YN doesn’t realize how hard she’s digging her fingernails into the palm of her hand until her hand starts throbbing at the pressure and she takes a deep breath to steady herself.

She puts on her most award-winning smile before walking towards Harry, who had not once taken his eyes off of her, and sticks her hand out with a smile that was a bit too sweet to be sincere.

“Mr. Styles, YN. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to our time together,” YN greets professionally, trying not to let her mind wander to what exactly the fingers that wrap around her were doing last night.

His grip is too firm to be appropriate for the first time meeting, there’s a harsh squeeze almost like last night that makes his rings dig into her skin for a brief moment.

He doesn’t know what to make of the situation, that much is obvious in the way that he hesitates to respond for a moment.

Harry swallows harshly before he plasters a smile on his face, not wide enough that his dimples pop, something that had endeared YN last night when he’d throw his head back and laughed.

“Pleasure is all mine,” Harry’s deep drawl, measured and monotone.

It made her body respond in a way that she didn’t quite appreciate because it went straight back to last night when he was telling her, ‘good girl, you’re taking me so well.’

The man beside them butts in, nudging Harry to the side a bit which makes him finally let go of her hand which he had been holding at that point for too long to be socially acceptable.

Harry’s eyes are zeroed in on her, she can feel them, even as she focuses on the other man who’s shaking her hand quickly before tugging a folder out of his bag.

“Jeff, Harry’s executive personal assistant,” The man greets as he opens the folder, eyes darting over something before he’s closing it once again, “When we board, I am going to run you through Mr. Styles itinerary, your expectations, and a few other matters before we land in Milan.”

YN realizes that it’s going to be work to bite her tongue, to not make snarky remarks to show just how much she really really doesn’t want to be on this trip with this man.

And the shitty thing is, she would want to do this trip if it wasn’t for what happened earlier.

She wasn’t going to let herself sit in the wallowing of a missed opportunity at a new relationship because of getting ahead of herself over a one-night-stand.

“That sounds perfect, Jeff,” YN gives them both a dazzling smile, refusing to give away any of the actual emotion she’s feeling for the man who made her feel like garbage hours prior.

Jeff smiles back, unaware of anything that was going on, “This is Mr. Styles’ first time with a…er, uh…an escort but it was important for him to have a date for these events.”

YN bites her tongue at the wording, it was much more interesting that this is the first time that Harry had hired a service because typically the men who utilized escorts hired them quite frequently.

Harry’s stare is bordering on murderous at the back of Jeff’s head before he exhales deeply through his nose, jaw still clenched shut, enough that she can see the movement under the skin.

“Well, I hope I can make it a good experience,” YN chirps, completely turned into professional mode despite how much her mind was spinning, “I have been to many places in Italy, however not Milan, in particular, so this will be exciting.”

Jeff seems kind, albeit oblivious, a smile still on his lips as he heads towards the stairs to get up to the plane.

YN moves to follow him but Harry’s hand wraps around her wrist, stopping her, and his eyes are still adamantly on her, like he’s trying to decipher what was going on in her head.

YN blinks at him, expectantly because she doesn’t have anything nice to say at this point.

Harry purses his lips for a moment, clearly struggling to get his words out, “I thought you worked for an office supply chain based off of our initial…interaction.”

YN decides at this point that she’ll allow herself one snarky remark before putting on her mask of professionalism, “And I thought from our initial interaction that you were going to be a halfway decent human being. I guess we were both lying, weren’t we?”

With that, YN pulls her wrist from his hold which he doesn’t put up a fight with, it doesn’t seem like he even realizes that he was still holding on to her at that moment.

YN has been on a multitude of private jets before, the extravagance and awe has long since impressed her as she got comfortable in a leather recliner across from Harry and Jeff.

It was going to be a long flight to Milan and Jeff seemed extremely eager to get the formalities out of the way.

Jeff is a bit flustered, dropping a slew of papers on the ground before clumsily picking them back up, “I-I apologize, I don’t have any experience with this type of arrangement.”

YN just blinks at him, much like she did Harry, and only feels a bit bad when he blushes the shade of a fresh tomato as he organizes himself once again.

Harry looks like he wants to smack Jeff upside the back of his head, hand clenching and unclenching in fists on his knees as he tries to continue to catch YN’s gaze, which she actively avoids.

“Harry, uh, Harry here is the founder of a very successful IT start-up and is still the chief executive officer and owner of the company,” Jeff starts out with a little backstory that YN does not want to admit that she’s interested in.

“We are flying to Milan for the Information Technology Summit where Harry is a key speaker,” Jeff is still darting down to his notes like he’s worried he’ll miss something important, “He is expected at dinners each night as well as a luncheon. All the other executives will be accompanied by their significant other and it is important for Harry to have a companion to fit into the scene.”

“So that is where you come in. You don’t have to say much during these events and dinners. Keep it casual and surface level conversation about day-to-day things like vacations and shopping.”

YN rolls her eyes because she’s used to being asked to play an airhead pretty face at these events, just smile and look beautiful, a prize to show off to the others.

“Um, for your backstory of how you two met…” Jeff flips a page, “You two met at a charity dinner and have been inseparable ever since. You’ve been dating for nearly a year but have kept it on the down-low for privacy reasons.”

YN’s relieved that Jeff didn’t concoct a wild story that would have been hard for her to remember but this was simple, charity dinner, and a year of dating that was it.

“We are staying at the same hotel as most of the other speakers. Er, you are in the same hotel room, if that’s okay? Mr. Styles isn’t looking for any…uh…companionship inside of the hotel room, complete-“

“I’m going to stop you there, Jeff,” YN cuts in with a stern tone, making his eyes widen as she leans forward to look over both of them, “I do not offer ‘companionship’ in the hotel room. I’m not a fucking hooker, I am merely a date. I do not have sex with my clients for money nor elsewise. I know that was clearly stated in the contract.”

Jeff appears like he’d enjoy jumping out the window right now, despite them being thousands of feet off the ground, “I-I didn’t, I sincerely apologize for my words. I didn’t mean to imply that at all. I wasn’t assuming-“

YN puts his hand up to cut him off, getting a bit too much pleasure in saying, “No need to worry, Jeff. I will never try to sleep with Harry. I wouldn’t make that big of a mistake.”

The double meaning is clear as she finally allows her gaze to trail over to Harry, who has had a consistent death stare this whole time, and she wants to laugh when his jaw twitches at her words.

“Oh…okay,” Jeff responds, a bit thrown by how adamant she sounded but more relieved that she wasn’t still angry over the misstep, “During this vacation, everything will be paid for by Harry. Any shopping, food, anything will be covered by him during these three days. You are not expected to use your own funds during this vacation.”

YN nods in understanding, everything that he reviewed was pretty typical to every other man she’s accompanied as a date, not everyone was generous enough to offer unlimited shopping or food but YN didn’t want anything more than what she agreed to from Harry.

There’s still too much thick tension in the air between Harry and YN.

If it wasn’t irritating her, it would actually make her laugh how comically uncomfortable Jeff was by both of their behavior.

The poor man tries to ease the silence with a joke, “I know you’re probably surprised that someone like Harry needs a date. I’m sure most of the men you work with are old lonely men.”

YN smiles widely, fake and sweet, “I’m not surprised at all that he needs a date.”

Jeff’s smile falters in confusion, looking over at Harry, who hasn’t said anything during this whole exchange.

It was so different from the man that she had been with last night.

It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two after they’d fallen asleep that YN stirs, movement in the bed rousing her from the heavenly cocoon that she’d managed in the expensive duvet.

YN yawns big enough, her eyes water, blinking tiredly with nothing to see other than a dim bathroom light and Harry’s bare back, narrow hips now covered with briefs as he disappears for a minute.

She’s awake enough that she watches as Harry turns off the light after he’s finished, padding back into the room, and trying carefully not to cause much rustling as he slips back under the duvet.

“Mmm,” YN complains when he is finally settled, she was on her side facing toward him and he had turned on his side, facing towards her as he opens his eyes again when he realizes she’s awake, “You woke me’up,” YN mumbles with a bit of a slur.

Harry smiles wide enough that she can see the dimple carved out in the side of his cheek, voice soft and syrupy as he runs his thumb under her puffy eyes, “I’m sorry, darling. Still got a few more hours, go back to sleep, okay?”

“Need’a cuddle,” She rasps, spoiled and edgy, and not normally a way that she would act with a man she didn’t know but something about them felt so familiar for how short of a time they’ve known each other.

“Do you?” Harry hums playfully, he moves his legs until his ankles are wrapping around hers, intertwining their legs.

“No!” YN squeaks as she tries to squirm away, “You know your feet are cold and you put them on me!”

“Warm ‘em up for me,” Harry murmurs between laughs, strong arms coming to wrap around her waist and pull her closer, leaving her no room to escape.

“You’re cruel,” YN whines as she finally stills, allowing him to put his freezing toes on her.

“How can I apologize?” Harry asks but his voice is lower than it was before, deeper and rougher, it automatically sends a zip of arousal down her spine at the tone.

“A kiss,” YN decides after a moment of comfortable silence, it was a whisper in between them and before she asked, he was already moving closer to her - well, pulling her into his body.

“A kiss? That’s it?” Harry murmurs but his lips are already against hers, taking her bottom lip between his, moving languidly like there is no such thing as time, “I’m a bit surprised since you’ve been so greedy all night up until this point. Finally deciding to be good f’me?”

“I have been good,” YN huffs, chasing his lips when he pulls back teasingly, his hands already slipping into the underwear he had helped her put on before they fell asleep, massaging at her hips with enough strength to ache.

“Yeah, best girl I’ve ever had,” Harry agrees fondly, lips moving to her chin, then her jaw before finding her lips again, “Such a fuckin’ good girl for me. Never gon’na want you to leave my bed, darling.”

YN moans when his hand drags slowly down her mound, dipping between her folds to nudge at her clit with a light brush of his fingertips, it wasn’t enough but she wasn’t going to be patient.

“Please,” YN begs against his mouth, knowing how much he liked to hear her ask for him, “Please, Harry. I need you.”

“Need me to what?” Harry replies, distractedly as he keeps her legs from closing with a knee in between them, biting at her lip as she can’t focus on kissing.

“Fuck me,” YN gasps when he rewards her with a perfectly pressured rub, bucking her hips towards his fingers.

“That’s m’girl,” Harry rumbles in approval, quickly shoving his briefs off his body and hiking her leg up around his hip, high and a bit of stretch so that he can push into her - bodies smushed together, “God, only been an hour and I already missed being inside you.”

It had been quick, both of their stamina low from how tired they were, and in much need of a solid rest.

Harry had dragged himself out of bed once more to grab a warm cloth to wipe her down before redressing her jelly limbs, laughing as she complains about his cold hands now.

YN thinks that second time that night made it hurt that much worse when she got kicked out only hours after that.

YN was good at suppressing her feelings, bottling them up, and never telling anyone about them.

Because she would never admit that she got a bit too ahead of herself with Harry, set hopes that didn’t come true, and now her chest ached as they stared each other down.

She had to give him props though because man, he did a great job of acting himself.

He managed to make her feel safe, comfortable, and wanted when all he had needed from her was sex.

YN couldn’t tell if anger or hurt was more prevalent in her body right now, they were in pretty close competition.

And right now, she cannot get a read on him at all.

There was a small part of her that would have wished that he would have snapped back at her over the passive aggressive jabs but he doesn’t say one word about it.

Instead, he clears his throat and says, “I appreciate you doing this for me. It’s…It’s not a great feeling to have to hire a date so thank you for agreeing to come with me.”

YN knows that he’s trying to be sincere, why?

She’s not sure.

But for some reason, it makes tears prick at her eyes because he wants to talk about not great feelings?

Try being kicked out of someone’s house before the sun is even up?

Try feeling like you’ve built such a connection in such a short amount of time, only to have that person stone-cold and distant after spending the whole night in each other's arms?

He has the fucking nerve to talk about not feeling good?

Harry isn’t stupid and does seem somewhat in-tune with YN’s emotions because he definitely realized that he said that wrong thing based on the way her face shifts before she’s able to disguise it.

“That was a poor choice of words, I was just trying to-“ Harry begins to correct himself, he’s attempting to keep a business tone but it falters as he tries to apologize.

YN shakes her head, feeling absurd that she wants to cry, and tightly manages to say, “I need to use the bathroom, excuse me.”

Before she’s unclicking her belt that was still secured from takeoff and practically runs towards the bathroom of the plane.

Even though he’s lowered his voice, Jeff asks Harry, “Am I missing something? What’s going on?”

“You laid down the formalities. I will handle all matters with YN from here on out. Understood?” Harry replies, voice authoritative and more boss talking to an employee.

“Yes,” Jeff mumbles, changing the subject to a conference call topic as she gets out of earshot.

She’s locking the door behind her and taking a moment to just squeeze her eyes shut.

“What the actual fuck?” YN grits out in the empty space, staring at herself in the mirror and trying to clear the thickness in her throat, “Pull yourself the fuck together. It’s just a stupid fucking man.”

YN hides in the bathroom for longer than she’d like to acknowledge, valiantly making sure that tears don’t fall because she hadn’t worn waterproof mascara.

When YN feels like she’s stabilized herself enough, she walks back to the area of seats, kicking off her slides, and pressing the button to recline the seat.

Harry had his seat tray in front of him, a sleek laptop in front of him that he was quickly tapping away at, and his phone buzzing next to him consistently with alerts and texts.

He watches her as she comes back, eyes flickering between her and the screen in front of him, and she doesn’t understand why he keeps checking on her - like he really fucking cares or something.

Come the fuck on.

She wasn’t under any illusion that the sex was so life-altering that he was head over heels for her so this was all bullshit, at least that was what she was going to continue to tell herself from here on out to save her mental health.

She always brings her favorite blanket on any trip, it’s worn and has a few holes but it brings her comfort in new situations.

YN untucks it from her carry-on, wrapping herself up in it, and pulling her feet closer to her chest to curl in on herself after tucking headphones into her ears.

She props her phone on the armrest, playing a rerun of a cooking competition she’d already seen a few times but again, it provided comfort to her.

It was frustrating, the amount of times that Harry was looking over at her, just a quick flit of his eyes before moving back towards his screen but YN’s head was tilted at such an angle that she could see every time he did it.

There wasn’t much motivation to stay awake, hoping that she could sleep mostly through the flight, and her volume of the show was low enough that she could still hear Jeff and Harry talking intermittently.

When her eyes flutter shut, not opening back up again to watch her show, she hears Harry quietly call over the flight attendant, “Can you please dim the lights and bring a few pillows? Thank you.”

The man agreed before disappearing for a few minutes, a few quiet words but YN was starting to fall asleep uncomfortably balanced with her chin on her palm, elbow on the arm rest.

“What are you doing?” Jeff asks under his breath as she hears a bit of rustling.

“She’s going to be uncomfortable if she sleeps like that,” Harry bites out, seemingly very annoyed with his assistant at this point and then she can smell him before she feels him.

The strong but delicious scent of something expensive, deep and inherently masculine with just a faint tone of something more feminine and sweet- god, she could bathe in it.

He’s slow in his movements as he tucks the pillow behind her head before gently taking a hold of her wrist, moving her back until she’s more comfortably resting against the pillow before he’s going back to his seat.

The confusion of feelings that’s churning in her stomach makes her heart start to race and instead she turns up her show to tune out anything he may say to Jeff afterwards.

YN has nightmares.

After a horrible experience with a client over a year back, it’s a nearly ninety-nine percent accurate bet that she’ll wake up at some point, sweaty, panicking, and feeling like she’s in danger.

The only time YN hadn’t had a nightmare in the past year was last night, when she was asleep with Harry in his bed, it had been the most peaceful slumber she’d gotten since her trauma.

She never had sex with her clients but after the event, she refused to even sleep in the same bed as them and sometimes refused to accept the job if she had to sleep in the same hotel room as them.

Typically the nightmares were worse when she was in strange places, traveling, hotels, so on.

They were more manageable when she was in her house, in the safety of her bed with a lock on her bedroom door to keep her feeling more secure even though sometimes it isn’t even helpful.

YN needs to escape, she can’t be here anymore, and for a moment she’s blind, unable to find any light to a path of escape.

There’s someone or something lurking in the shadows but she can’t see them.

She cannot tell how close they are but she knows they are there and completely dangerous.

Suddenly, a light in the darkness, a door that illuminated with a blunt red exit sign, flickering in the otherwise darkness.

YN starts running, sprinting as fast as her legs can take her towards the exit and away from the darkness behind her.

When she gets the door, she goes to grab the handle but can’t feel it, when she looks down…

There’s no handle anymore.

There’s nothing but a smooth surface and the exit sign flickers a few more times before it’s buzzing and goes dark.

Now she’s cornered and she can feel the disgusting damp breath on the back of her neck.

“YN….” “YN…..” “YN…”

“YN, wake up f’me.”

Harry’s voice finally gets through completely, the nightmare fading into darkness before she’s blinking her eyes open to the dimly lit cabin of the plane around her.

Harry is standing over her with concern in his eyes, hand reaching out like he wants to touch her, and Jeff was staring at her too.

YN could feel her cheeks were wet from tears, her heart was pounding, and there was sweating on her temple from how intense that traumatic nightmare was.

“Don’t touch me!” YN nearly growls when Harry moves forward with his hand extending, like he’s going to try to comfort her, “Don’t! Don’t fucking touch me!”

Harry puts his hands up in surrender, to display that he wasn’t going to try to touch her, and for good measure, he takes two major steps backwards to put distance between them.

“You were having a nightmare,” Harry tells her like she doesn’t know, she feels a bit guilty because he’s clearly startled by her reaction and most likely by her nightmare too, “I don’t know, I figured it was best to try to wake you up. You were crying and screaming…I couldn’t listen to it anymore.”

“Well, I’m sorry I was such a bother,” YN bites out, now completely on the defensive as she wraps the blanket further around herself, as tight as possible as she takes deep breaths through her nose and out her mouth.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that-“ Harry tries to explain, talking faster than his normal drawl to get his point across but YN’s mind had shifted into a dark place which meant she had no patience.

“Stop, just stop,” YN interrupts, trying to ignore how shaky her hands were when she unscrewed the lid of a water bottle and took a swig because her throat feels dry.

YN feels like crying because of the pure embarrassment of having the nightmare, she should have known she shouldn’t try to sleep on the plane despite the long flight.

Nightmares always trigger darker thoughts of the trauma, it takes a while for them to slip back out but she’s been working on it with her therapist now for a while and it’s become a little easier to manage.

However, it’s like she has to work to get her mind out of the nightmare after she’s awake, she has to remind herself that she’s not in that situation anymore and she’s safe from that man.

YN finishes the water bottle and props up her phone again to put back on a show, something that she can get into that will keep her awake but she knows she’s going to be exhausted at the hotel now because of resisting sleep on the plane.

Harry continues to work away most of the flight on his laptop, phone, talking to people over conference calls, discussing business with Jeff, and it seems like he has a nonstop amount of things to do.

YN notices that as it gets later into the night, his eyes start to get heavy, long blinks and it gets harder for him to open them once they close.

His lips had gone lax, parted and puffy as he tried to focus on the screen.

At some point, he closes his laptop and stows all the items away before sitting back in his chair.

It was interesting, he was still in a pristinely tailored suit, leather boots on, and a completely uncomfortable outfit to wear for a long plane ride.

He doesn’t recline his seat, simply sits back, crosses his arms, and tilts his head back against the headrest with his eyes closed - it couldn’t possibly be comfortable but it’s not long because his head starts to tilt to one side when he falls asleep.

YN gave herself permission to fully look at him since she hadn’t after last night.

She wished that maybe he wasn’t as handsome as she’d thought the night before.

But he was still breathtakingly beautiful as he sat across from her.

His eyelashes were unfairly long, his jawline was cut like it was from marble, and the way his arms were crossed highlighted just how built his biceps were from working out.

Not to mention, his lean but still muscular thighs, and YN couldn’t focus on that for too long because less than twenty-four hours ago, she was in his lap, bum against those same thighs as she worked on top of him.

YN realizes after much too long of a moment that Jeff is watching her watch Harry, the poor man seems so confused but if Harry wasn’t willing to cough up the information about their initial meeting, neither was she.

After being caught, she diverts her attention back to her screen but it doesn’t mean that occasionally her eyes drift back to study his features once more like she’ll forget if she doesn’t memorize them.

However, when she looks over at her for her intermittent check in at some point later on, she’s startled to see the bright green of his eyes staring back at her which quickly makes her glance away.

Harry is much more shameless about watching her throughout the flight which she can’t tell why but it doesn’t get on her nerves as much as she would like it too.

There was a car waiting for them on the tarmac at the private port, her bags loaded in for her as they both slid into the backseat, and Jeff took the front with the driver.

It’s a quiet ride.

YN gets angry when she finds herself wishing for his hand to hold hers or for him to rest his on her thigh because she shouldn’t want that from a guy who treated her like trash.

The hotel is beautiful, luxe, and a one night here definitely cost more than a month of her rent.

When they get into the main lobby, it’s bustling and busy with arrivals for the technology summit presumably, people heading to the hotel restaurant and bar in expensive outfits.

Jeff goes to check-in, waiting in line as many others were checking in.

Harry and YN were standing next to each other but not touching or interacting.

However, when a middle-aged man walks up to them, she knows that it’s time to turn on her game-face and do what she came here to do, which was to convince people that Harry and her were in a committed relationship.

As soon as she realizes that they are coming towards them, YN plasters a smile on her face that would seem sincere to anyone who doesn’t know her, and she takes a step towards Harry.

She moves to wrap her arm around his waist, making it intimate as she goes under his suit jacket, and pulls herself into his side like she belongs there and it’s scary how natural it seems.

Harry hesitates for a moment, this wasn’t as natural, and it’s like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to touch her back until she gives him a light squeeze on his hip to tell him it was.

At that point, he relaxes with permission, and his big hand comes to rest on the small of her back, low enough that his fingertips brush the curve of her bum but not too much to be inappropriate.

“Styles,” The man gruffs, voice crackly and worn, “I haven’t seen you since you bought out Richardson.”

YN learns very quickly that Harry is a professional, a businessman who holds himself confidently and has vast knowledge of everything that he needs to for his line of work.

“I’ve bought out three other of your competitors since then. I haven't gotten a thank you or nothing,” Harry replies, teasing in his tone but his voice is deeper, more dominant than it had been with her.

The man doesn’t acknowledge Harry’s words because his eyes drift to YN.

“I would have remembered if you’d brought such beauty on our last summit,” He has no shame in running his eyes up and down her body with a predatory gaze, it made her want to gag, “I wouldn’t have even gone to the summit. I’d have stayed the whole time in the hotel room, and wouldn't have let her out.”

YN expects Harry to allow the comment, every other man she’s done this job with has, they actually enjoy when their colleagues objectify her because it makes their egos bigger.

She expects Harry to laugh or agree like every other man.

Harry straightens up more, broadening his shoulders almost defensively, and then he does something extremely interesting.

He moves his hand from her back to around her front, curving around the front of her hip, and gently but forcefully moves YN behind him a bit more, and he steps in front of her.

That’s when she realizes that Harry is protecting her even if this man wasn’t a physical threat to her, he was shielding her from his creepy stare by blocking her with his body.

Nobody….no man has ever done that for her.

Even a boyfriend in her personal life.

She doesn’t think much about it as she hooks her fingers into the belt loops of his dress pants, showing him that she’s right behind him, still touching him - something she would have never done with any other date.

“I think you better reconsider the way you want to talk to me about my woman because not only will I never make a deal with you again but I punch you in the fucking face. Disgusting,” Harry bites out in a sharp, deadly tone that YN hadn’t heard before.

“I have the keycards,” Jeff butts in, oblivious as always as he hands two to Harry.

Harry is unsettled now, his chest puffing a bit quicker, and his nostrils flared as he grabs them out of Jeff’s hands, not giving the man another moment of his time as he storms off in the opposite direction.

“C’mon,” Harry gruffs, not annoyed at YN per se but seeming more stressed out than he’d been so far, and reaches out for her hand to lead her towards the elevators.

YN finds herself wanting to hold his hand and so she does, allowing him to guide them towards the lifts as Harry nods and greets multiple people along the way before he’s shuffling YN into the elevator.

She can’t decipher what’s going on in his head but he’s not happy and she doesn’t know what that guy saying that to her put him in such a foul mood as if they were actually dating.

And she doesn't know how to tell him that he’s going to have to encounter that quite a lot.

These rich, lawless men didn’t have filters.

They talk to women however they see fit, even if their boyfriend or husband is standing right there because ninety-nine percent of the time they’ll join in on the vulgar conversation.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks after a moment, after he’d gathered himself a bit more.

“Yes. The flight was fine and -“ YN starts but Harry shakes his head, making her stop talking.

“No, with…in the lobby. I didn’t realize that guy was such a fucking asshole,” Harry replies with a twitch in his jaw, he still hadn’t let go of YN’s hand despite no one but Jeff being in the elevator with them.

YN cracks a small smile, “I’m used to it. I appreciate you standing up for me though. That was a nice change. However, you’re going to see that those comments happen quite a bit.”

“It’s fucked up. Of course I’m not going to let anyone talk to you like that,” Harry is still visibly upset, lips turned down, brow furrowed deeply, and his hand was squeezing hers tightly.

YN shouldn’t because it’s too intimate, it flashes back to last night but she reaches up to pat his jaw, “Thank you. Just forget it now, okay? Enjoy your time here.”

Harry’s eyes are searching hers, torn and frustrated, and he shuts them for a moment as he takes a deep breath, nodding in agreement after a pause, and exhales.

Harry lets go of her hand which makes her chest ache a bit but he’s only dropping it so that he can wrap his arm around her waist and pull her further into his side - protective and strong.

“Just….Stay near me, okay? I need to be able to keep you safe,” Harry tells her and she wishes her heart didn’t skip a fucking beat because why was Harry everything she’s ever wanted in every single way?

It’s not fucking fair.

But maybe she can still enjoy it even if it is just for these three days.

It warmed something deep within her to have this man that she had a fondness for express directly that he has the desire to protect her and keep her safe - her stomach was flipping and she was in dangerous territory of forgetting he’d even kicked her out in the first place.

“Okay,” YN agrees quietly, desperately trying not to lean all of her body weight into his side but he gives her another tug closer when another man steps onto the elevator which she allows easily.

The hotel suite was everything to be expected, it was beautiful, vintage Italian but somehow modern, and the only issue was that there was one large four-poster bed.

“The couch pulls out,” Harry said when he notices YN surveying the room, “I’ll sleep on there.”

YN nods, biting her tongue to tell him just to share the bed with her, they already had once.

“Our first dinner event starts at eight. I have a business call to jump on so if you can try to be ready around seven forty-five, that’d be great,” Harry tells her as he digs back into his briefcase for his laptop.

It’s a much needed break, getting into the massive walk-in white marble shower, letting the heat relax her muscles, and wash off the plane ride into something more floral and clean smelling.

YN knew what she looked like when she was done up.

There was a reason that people paid large sums of money to call her their date.

She was a prize, a trophy, something that her date could show off.

YN decided to go big for the first outfit, well she would for every event but the tailored jumpsuit she wore hugged her curves perfectly, the built in corset did an outstanding job of giving her the perfect amount of perkiness and cleavage of her chest.

Normally she didn’t feel self-conscious at all, she didn’t really care too much what her dates thought of her outfit but it was different now for some reason.

What if Harry didn’t like it?

YN fixes her hair at least five times before she’s exiting the bedroom, where Harry has already changed into a new suit that was more style than profession with a barely buttoned shirt underneath the fit jacket.

After a few moments of tapping away at his keyboard, he glances up at her, and his eyes widen before he steadies his features, “You look…nice.”

YN feels a bit disappointed in his reaction, expecting more than ‘nice’ but she just gives him a half-smile before checking the time, they were going to be a few minutes late but not by much.

It’s a quiet car ride.

The first dinner was held at an art museum in the heart of the city.

Harry gripped her hand tightly when they exited the car, she was startled and blinded by the flashes of cameras - not realizing for a moment that there was a line of photographers waiting to snap pictures of the guests arriving.

Harry hustles them inside, away from the lights, and she has to blink a few times before she stops seeing spots.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks with a frown, hand still tightly holding onto hers.

“Yeah, just took me off guard,” YN responds as she looks around at the beautiful set-up of the expansive building, high ceilings and dim lights that create a moody, elegant ambiance.

“Styles, always late, huh?” A man approaches them right away, a jolly smile on his face as he eyes up YN, “Finally a new lover? I was wondering when you were going to start bringing another girl around!”

YN bites her lip because she doesn’t know of the girl that this man was hinting at but if she was to guess, it was an ex-girlfriend that he used to bring to these events.

And there is absolutely no reason that she should feel any lick of jealousy.

“Ronald,” Harry greets, dodging the comment, and once again, he pulls YN closer to him than before, tucking her into his side with a display of possessiveness when his large hand splays on her hip, spreading out his fingers, “Congratulations on your patent. I know you’d been working to get that for some time now.”

They dissipate into a conversation about business while YN sips on a glass of champagne that a server had come around with a tray of, Harry’s hand never once moving from her hip.

As they wrap up their chat, Ronald grins once more at YN before his eyes dart back to Harry, “I know that I shouldn’t say it but I think it’s fine because she’s your ex now. This one is much cuter, better body, and everything-“

Harry swallows tightly, voice cutting in like ice, “That’s enough.”

Ronald has the decency to blush when he realizes that Harry won’t participate in that disgusting way of talking about women and mumbles something before moving away.

Harry appears the same way he did in the elevator, struggling to contain his emotions, angry, and wanting to just tear someone’s head off.

The next few people that Harry talk to are normal, greeting her and introducing themselves but not making any type of comment to disrespect her or Harry which was a relief because Harry finally seemed to start calming down.

At one point, as a group of people are talking, Harry in the conversation as well - it seems like he does it without thinking but he turns his head, brushing his lips against YN’s temple in an extremely intimate gesture as he rubs a circle on her hip.

Harry tenses when he realizes what he’s doing but YN leans more into his side than before to assure him that it was okay, he moves his lips away but doesn’t stop massaging circles into her skin.

“You’re doing so good, thank you,” Harry murmurs in her ear as dinner comes to a close.

YN had done a good job of holding conversations, engaging with others at the table, and overall being a support date but not overbearing to encroach on his space.

It was Harry who couldn’t keep his hands off of YN, if he wasn’t holding her hand, it was on her hip or lower back, and he was constantly paying attention to who was talking to her to make sure they were being appropriate (nearly all of them were).

“You guys make a beautiful couple,” One of the women compliments sincerely, raising her flute of champagne, “A toast to a successful, happy relationship for Harry and YN!”

The rest of them raise their glasses, YN doing so as to not stand out, and the sound of glass clinking echoes for a moment before they all take a sip and put it down.

“C’mon! Give her a kiss!” Another woman giggles, a round of agreements following from the others.

Harry turns to YN, studying her face for a moment to gauge her reaction, he wants permission to do so.

YN takes the lead so as to not cause suspicion (and because she desperately wants to kiss him), starting to lean in.

As soon as Harry realizes that she’s leaning in for the kiss, he moves quicker than he has all night, both hands coming to cradle either side of her face as their lips meet with familiarity.

It’s the same spark from last night, if not stronger now.

The others at the table were cheering and whistling at them, laughing because half of them were drunk and the other’s were endeared by the young couple, as most of them were much older than her and Harry.

It’s not a peck.

Harry takes control easily, getting her bottom lip between his, and holding her face right where he wants her before he seems to snap back to reality, pulling away with parted lips and his pupils nearly taking up the green of his eyes.

He has a smudge of her lipstick on his lips which she leans forward and wipes off with her thumb but her heart is pounding by the way he’s staring her down as she tugs at his bottom lip for a moment.

His eyes are focused like she’s prey and he hasn’t eaten in days.

“Phew, get a room!” Someone jokes loudly, everyone following with laughter, “That’s the most action I’ve seen in a while!” There’s further laughter when the wife of the man who made that joke lightly punches his arm to scold him before rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her mixed drink.

Harry drops his hands but hesitates on where to put them, he moves like he’s going to put them back on his thighs but YN grabs the wrist closest to her, guiding it to rest on her thigh.

He’s shoulder slump just the slightest, relaxed and he gives plush a squeeze of appreciation before he’s jumping back into a business conversation, his fingers constantly drumming against her skin - never once moving away.

YN catches herself giving him starry eyes as he speaks, blinking herself out of it only to fall trap to it again and again.

He was hypnotized as he spoke, confident, dominant, and sure of every word that was coming out of his mouth.

At some point, YN excuses herself to the restroom, Harry had asked if she wanted him to walk her there but she had encouraged him to keep talking with a wave of her hand.

After quite a few minutes, as it was difficult to navigate the jumpsuit, and the zipper on the back - she takes a bit longer than she normally would and is a little out of breath by the time she manages to get outfit zipped again.

When she walks back to the table, she’s surprised to see that Harry’s no longer with the group which makes her confused.

Her eyes trace around the room for a minute, glancing over the other tables, the dessert table, and maybe he had decided that he needed to go to the bathroom after all.

It’s not until YN turns to go get another drink at the bar that she finds Harry.

He’s tucked away in the back corner, near the hallway of the bathrooms but completely out of view from when YN came out, and he’s talking to someone that YN can’t see from this angle.

Assuming he’s talking to another peer, YN starts to walk over but pauses when she realizes that it’s not a colleague but a very attractive, very beautiful woman who was standing in front of Harry.

They were talking with their heads ducked like they didn’t want others to hear their conversation and the way they were away from the ground screamed that they were looking for some sort of privacy.

YN can’t swallow down the lick of jealous that shoots up her spine.

She’ll cockblock Harry.

She doesn’t give one single fuck.

YN strides over, heels clicking confidently against the tile as she very rudely interrupts their hushed conversation, siding up right next to Harry, and hooking her arm in the crook of his elbow.

YN has a sharp, nearly wolfish smile on her face and a tilt of her head as she sizes up the woman in front of her without hiding it, “Hi, I’m YN. Harry’s girlfriend, it’s nice to meet you.”

YN sticks her hand out obnoxiously to offer a handshake which the girl examines with a sneer before briefly shaking like YN had a disease that was contagious through touch.

If YN had even bothered to glance at Harry, she would have seen the utter relief that had crossed his face when YN showed up but she was too zeroed in to notice anything about his mannerisms right now.

“I’m Vida,” She says with narrowed eyes, a smile gracing her face after a moment, like she’s realizing she absolutely has the upperhand, “Harry’s ex-wife.”

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