#i love the vintageness of it and the little details

[highinmiamiii]

you can be the boss 🦢

Club owner!Joe Kessler x Stripper Reader x DBF!Billy Butcher

18+ smut mdni

(a/n): new installment to club kess! i love this au soooo much kess is such a dirtbag, he’s kinda hard for me to write so i apologize if things are not as smooth sailing as you might expect. i hope you all enjoy this more sugar daddyish oriented smut chapter i was feeling smutty…perhaps we will get more sugar daddy shenanigans in the future before butcher decides he needs kessler gone asap. i love them being jealous of eachother its so hot, anyways

(CW: in general just stay away if you’re uncomfortable by anything sexual bc this is pretty filthy. fingering, squirting, slight daddyish dynamic, arguement w butcher, idk what else)

The dim glow of Kessler’s modern penthouse was a sharp contrast to the harsh reality she faced daily. The space was a testament to excess—a grand apartment bathed in dark marble, glass and metals, where every piece of furniture looked more out of some sort of sterile futuristic hospital than the last. Black velvet drapes, rich and heavy, framed the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city skyline. The scent of expensive cologne lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of cigars and fine leather.

Tonight, she was a vision in a black silk dress that clung to her every curve, the material shimmering under the soft, ambient lighting. Her heels clicked against the polished marble floor, each step resonating with the weight of her uncertainty. The dress’s plunging neckline and thigh-high slit revealed just enough to captivate yet leave much to the imagination. Her makeup was impeccable—smoky eyes and red lips that promised allure. Her hair cascaded in glossy waves, framing her face in a way that only enhanced her beauty further.

Kessler lounged on an overstuffed leather sofa, his presence larger than life. He had a predatory grace about him, his eyes glinting with unspoken promises. “Sweetheart,” he drawled, his voice smooth as silk. “You look fuckin’ gorgeous tonight. I must say, the way that dress hugs you—” He let the compliment trail off, his gaze lingering in a manner both admiring and possessive.

She shifted uncomfortably, aware of the subtle pressure his gaze exerted. “Thank you, Mr. Kessler,” she replied, attempting to mask her discomfort with a polite smile.

Kessler’s smile widened, revealing a glint of white teeth. “Call me Joe, darling. ‘Mr. Kessler’ makes me sound like a schoolteacher. Now, let’s talk business.” He gestured toward a bottle of vintage champagne resting in an ice bucket nearby, his hand lingering just a fraction too long on her arm as he led her to sit beside him.

As she settled on the sofa, he poured the champagne with practiced elegance, his eyes never straying far from her. “You know, baby, I’ve been thinking about our last conversation. You’ve got something special, and I’d hate to see that talent go to waste.”

Her heart raced at his words. She thought back to the other day when he spoke to her in his office. The promises of stardom hanging heavy between them since them “H-how so?”

Kessler leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I’m talking about making you a star. Not just any star, but one of those dazzling lights that everyone will want to see. I could maybe even get ya in a film one day”

She forced herself to meet his gaze, trying to read his intentions. “And what’s in it for you?”

A smirk played on his lips as he handed her a thick envelope stuffed with cash. “Absolutely nothing sweetheart, just a little something to show my appreciation. Get yourself something nice to wear. Don’t worry about the details just yet. We’re going to get you out of this town, baby. It’s only a matter of time.”

The envelope felt heavy in her hands, its weight a reminder of her growing dependence on Kessler’s promises. As she hesitated, he reached out and gently stroked her cheek. “Relax, darling. You’re in good hands.”

His thick strong hands roamed their way down her waist, gently turning her over so her back is facing him. He starts to dig his fingers deep into the blades of her back, kneading the skin and helping her release every last knot “Mmm, so tense baby” He huffs and kneads rougher, causing a pleasured gasp to escape her throat “fuck..” She whispers, cracking her neck

Kessler’s hands continued their slow, deliberate work on her back, each stroke more possessive than the last. His breath was hot against her neck, close enough to send shivers down her spine. He was playing a dangerous game—one that blurred the lines between manipulation and seduction.

“Can’t have my girls all tense like this,” Kessler whispered, his lips grazing her ear, voice low and full of promise. “You’ve been carrying too much weight on those pretty shoulders.”

He pushed her hair aside and trailed soft kisses down the back of her neck, his lips lingering just enough to make her pulse quicken. She tensed, unsure how to respond. Part of her mind screamed to pull away, but her body betrayed her, leaning back into his touch, craving the attention despite the warning signs flashing in her head.

“You don’t need to worry about a thing, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers now tracing circles along her hips, drawing her closer into him. “I’ll take care of everything. You just let me handle it.”

His hands roamed lower, teasingly brushing against her waist as he spun her around to face him. Kessler’s dark eyes were filled with desire and power, a dangerous mix that made her heart race. He pulled her closer, into his lap so that she’s straddling his waist.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Kessler growled softly, his hand now caressing her cheek, thumb tracing her lips. “You don’t know what you do to me, do you, baby? The way you move, the way you look at me… it drives me wild.”

Her breath hitched as he leaned in, his lips crashing against hers with an intensity that made her knees weak. The kiss was hard and demanding, filled with the same possessiveness that had been building between them since the start. His hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place as his tongue slid against hers, coaxing her deeper into the moment.

Her mind swirled with conflicting emotions. She knew this was wrong—knew that he was manipulating her, bending her to his will. But in that moment, with his hands on her and his words washing over her, it was hard to remember the reasons why she had to resist.

He pressed her against the wall, his lips finding their way to her jaw, her throat, marking her with each kiss. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” he whispered against her skin, the promise dripping with desire and control. “You won’t need anyone else. Just me.”

Her breath quickened, and she felt his hand slide down to her thigh, lifting her leg slightly so that he could press himself harder against her. It was overwhelming, the way he commanded the situation, the way he took control without giving her time to think. Kessler pulled back just enough to speak, his voice husky with lust. “You feel that, sweetheart? That’s what you do to this ol’ man, eh? you proud of that?” He says teasingly as he breathes heavily into your ear

As his lips found hers again, she kissed him back with a desperation that surprised even her. It wasn’t just the money, or the promises—it was the way he made her feel in moments like this. Powerful, desired, and yet, completely under his thumb. A stark contrast to how Billy made her feel.

The only time she would feel any sort of reciprocation from Butcher when he was off his rockers or blackout drunk. You’d looked up to him since you were a literal little girl. Of course you had a dumb schoolgirl crush on him, but that didn’t matter right now. Not with Kessler holding you like this, making you feel so sexy, so wanted, spoiling you every last chance he got. Fuck Billy. If he didn’t want her sober then she was going to find someone world’s better for her.

Somewhere in the haze of it all, she knew the truth: the more she gave in, the more she’d lose of herself. But then again, it was a much better feeling to have someone want you without having to consume enough alcohol to kill a small animal for once.

Kessler’s hands slid up her waist again, his grip firm. “You won’t ever need to work for those tips again,” he murmured, kissing her neck. “You’re too good for that. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

She pulled back, her breath ragged as she searched his eyes. “And what do you get out of this, Joe?…” She asked, honestly not wanting to deal with her suspicions right now and see him as the perfect man…but she had to, it seemed like a very unfair trade here.

He smirked, that devilish grin lighting up his face. “I get you, sweetheart. That’s more than enough.”

Her mind was screaming at her to step away, to leave, but instead, she stayed there, pinned between Kessler and the wall, completely unsure of where to go from here.

Kessler's gaze held hers captive, his eyes darkening with intensity. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek before tangling in her hair. "Why do you always have to be so unsure about everything, huh babygirl?" he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

Kessler's hands tightened around her waist, his fingers splayed possessively over her hips. "You know, when you're being difficult, it makes me want to put you over my knee and spank some sense into you." He growled, his voice low and menacing.

Her eyes widened, her face flushing a deep shade of red. "W-What?... Over your knee?... Like a- a fucking a child?" She stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re sicker than I thought you were Kess” She mutters with a soft nervous chuckle. Kessler grinned wickedly, enjoying her flustered reaction. "Well, sweetheart, you're acting like a damn brat right now, ain't you? Maybe a good spanking is just what you need to learn some respect." His hands squeezed her backside, his intent clear.

She nervously stutters out “Y-you know what- it’s getting late kess—“

Kessler silenced her protests with a searing kiss, his hands gripping her thighs and hoisting her up. She automatically wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms looping around his neck. "Then perhaps," he said against her lips, "you should show me some obedience instead, young lady."

Her mind was racing, but her body betrayed her, clinging to him as he carried her to the bedroom. She buried her face in his neck, murmuring “y-yes Mr. Kessler”

He hikes her dress up past her ass, his palm smacking loudly against the plump fat, her skin rippling as she yelps in shock “Told ya not to fuckin’ call me that, didn’t I babygirl?”

She gasped as his palm connected with her bottom, the sharp smack echoing in the room. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she buried her face deeper into his neck, letting out a choked sob "Y-yes- m’sorry” she whines helplessly

Kessler's hand caressed her reddened flesh soothingly, his touch gentle despite the earlier roughness. "Good girl." He praised, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's see if you can ride my hand like one"

Kessler felt a surge of protectiveness well up within him. He could feel her body quivering against his, her breath coming in ragged, tear-choked gasps. Her vulnerability stirred something primal within him, a need to cherish and control her in equal measure. She let out a soft, shuddering breath as his hand caressed her stinging backside, her body still tensed from the sudden, humiliating punishment. The heat from his palm seeped into her skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. His touch gentled, his fingers trailing along the crease of her bottom, pausing to squeeze the tender flesh possessively before slipping lower. She could feel his knuckles brushing against her thighs, parting them ever so slightly.

Kessler wrapped an arm around her waist and tossed her facedown on the mattress, her breath hitching as she bounced slightly. He climbed onto the bed, straddling her thighs and pinning her hips down with one beefy, tattooed arm wrapped around her waist. His other hand snaked beneath her, groping along her inner thighs until it reached the hem of her lace underwear. He paused, his thick fingers toying with the delicate fabric before he slowly began to drag it aside, revealing the tender flesh beneath.

As he exposed her soaked pussy, he let out a low, appreciative growl. "Fuck, look at you," he muttered, his breath hot against her ear. "Fucking soaked, just for me. dripping all over my sheets, aren't you, sweetness?" Her cheeks flamed with embarrassed heat as she buried her face in the mattress, muffling her moans. His thick fingers parted her folds, slowly sliding up and down her slick crease. “Answer me," he demanded gruffly, punctuating his words with firm pressure against her hole.

“Y-yes” she gasps out softly, wondering how the hell she got here. she had promised butcher that she wasn’t sleeping with kessler, especially not for his money…so what the hell was she doing letting him touch her like this. Her mind raced as Kessler's touch grew bolder, his fingers pumping in and out of her as his thumb swirled around her sensitive little pulsing nub, soaking up her guilty secret. "Squeezin’ me and i’ve barely got two fingers in, got the tightest pretty little pussy i’ve ever laid eyes on, baby" he growled, his breath hot against her ear.

Kessler's fingers curled inward, pressing against her g-spot as he continued to talk dirty to her. "that’s a good fuckin’ girl," he praised, his voice thick with lust. "let's see just how messy we can get’er, eh?”

She bit down on her lip to silence her cries as he slowly added a third finger, stretching her wide. His touch grew more insistent, his thumb rubbing firm circles over her swollen nub while his fingers pumped in and out of her, slowly gaining speed.

“oh yeah baby, doin’ so well..” he rasped, his tone filled with approval. “This little cunts gripping my fingers so tight, all soaked and sloppy... that old fuck that comes around the club- what’s his name sweetheart?— “

“W-wha—“ She mumbles, rolling her neck in pleasure as she arches her back slightly. “jeeesus- i- i don’t know who you’re talking about-“

“The motherfucker that picks ya up babygirl, think I don’t ask around? Butcher, was it? He bury his fingers this deep in ya like I am now?"

She tried to speak, but all that came out was a garbled moan as he hit that spot inside her again and again. Her eyes rolled back, and she squeezed her legs together, trying to keep his fingers inside her, but he just pushed them in even deeper. Her back bowed, pushing her rear higher into the air as unbridled pleasure coursed through her veins like liquid fire. Each thrust of his fingers against that magical spot sent shockwaves through her core, her inner walls clutching at him greedily, desperate to keep him inside.

"Mmm, does he make you feel like this?" Kessler growled, his breath hot against her ear. "does he make you shake and whimper like my touch does? does he make you beg for his touch, sweetheart?"

"No, Billy means nothing," she stammered, her back arching off the bed as Kessler's fingers hit that magic spot inside her. "We've never— really done anything. He's always drunk, and I've never… never even gotten close to finishing with him…I-I swear…”

Kessler's eyes widened in disbelief as she spoke, his fingers pausing inside her for a moment before he started moving again, faster and harder. "What the fuck, sweetheart? He's never even gotten you off?" "He's not my boyfriend," she gasped, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets. "He's just... around. And when he is, he's drunk or asleep. Oh god, Kess, please..." Kessler groaned softly, his mind racing with the realization that he was likely the only one who'd ever touched her like this, who'd ever brought her to the brink of release. His fingers curled inside her, his thumb rubbing her swollen nub with quick, firm circles. "You're so close, babygirl. I can feel you pulsating around my fingers. You're gonna come for me like this, ain't ya? Y’don’t need him..” She nodded frantically, her body trembling as his words washed over her. "Yes, Kess, yes, d-don’t need him! I've never... I've never even touched myself like this. Only you, only your fingers—and oh god, I'm so close!"

Her back bowed, a high-pitched cry tearing from her throat as the most intense pleasure she'd ever known exploded within her. It was like a dam breaking, her insides convulsing as waves of pure ecstasy crashed over her. Kessler's mouth dropped open as she cried out, her body convulsing as a torrent of her release gushed out, drenching his hand. "Holy fuck...made my girl fuckin’ squirt" he breathed, watching in awe as her body trembled and quaked.

He quickly moved to clean her up, his tongue delving between her folds to lap up every last drop. She whimpered and shuddered, her hands gripping the sheets tightly as he ate her out like a starving man.

Kessler's face buried between her thighs, his tongue ravaging her soaked flesh as he licked up every last trace of her release. She quivered uncontrollably, her hips bucking against his mouth, overly sensitized from the mind-shattering climax. "K-Kess... it's too much...,"

He gentled his touch, lapping at her slowly, thoroughly cleaning her up before placing soft kisses on her inner thighs and belly. He crawled up beside her, pulling her against his chest as they both caught their breath.

That next morning, sun seeping in through the floor-to-ceiling windows as his his housemaid sweeps the floor. Soft jazz played in the background, creating an atmosphere of sophistication and ease. She, in a delicate white lacy dress that contrasted starkly with the darkness of her previous attire, felt like she was stepping into a world far removed from her own struggles. This dress, with its intricate lace detailing and short little poofy skirt, was both elegant and suggestive—a perfect blend of innocence and allure.

Kessler greeted her with an almost theatrical flourish. “There she is, my starlet,” he crooned, his eyes dark with something akin to possessiveness.

Weeks later, her role at Club Kessler had evolved significantly. She had been promoted to a bottle service girl, a coveted position that allowed her to cater to the club’s high-profile clientele. The VIP area, with its plush seating and private booths, was a stark contrast to the main stage where she once performed. The exclusivity of her new role seemed like a step toward the future Kessler had promised her.

Kessler’s possessiveness, however, became more apparent with each passing night. She, now clad in a glittering silver mini-dress that showcased her toned legs and accentuated her every move, was serving a particularly influential client. As she danced for him, her movements fluid and practiced, she noticed Kessler watching from the shadows, his gaze intense and scrutinizing.

After the dance, Kessler approached her with a dangerous smile. “Baby, I need to talk to you.”

Her heart sank. She followed him to a quieter corner of the club, where the sound of the music seemed distant and hollow. “What’s wrong?”

He placed a hand on her arm, his touch possessive. “I saw what you were doing out there. It’s not what I want for you. You’re not just another girl in this club; you’re special. I don’t want you giving private dances anymore.”

She blinked, stunned. “But… how am I supposed to make money? I work off tips.”

Kessler’s smile faltered for a brief moment before returning with a more sinister edge. “Don’t worry about it. From now on, I’ll take care of everything. You’re not here to earn a living, sweetheart; you’re here to shine.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on her shoulders. Her independence was slipping away, replaced by a sense of obligation and dependency. The last shred of her dignity—the money she had earned herself—was now a distant memory.

Kessler’s manipulation became more pronounced. The cash he handed her grew in volume, and his control over her life tightened with each passing day. She felt the weight of her dependence on him—a growing burden that overshadowed the promises of fame and freedom.

The bell above the door chimed as Butcher stepped into the shop, his presence a familiar weight that made the cramped space feel even smaller. She stood behind the counter, hands smoothing over a pile of folded shirts, trying not to let her fingers tremble. The shop smelled like old leather and wood polish, mixed with the faint tang of motor oil from the garage out back. It was the kind of place that felt worn-in, like a pair of boots broken just right.

Butcher, in his usual dark coat, sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, looked out of place here—too rough, too loud for the quiet, slow-moving world of the shop. His heavy boots echoed off the wooden floors as he strode past the racks, eyes landing on her in that way that always made her feel exposed. He had that same look tonight—like he knew something wasn’t right but wasn’t sure how to ask.

She wore a pale pink dress today, soft and frilled at the edges, the kind of thing that made her feel delicate, though she’d long forgotten how to be. It hugged her figure just enough to feel pretty without trying, but now, under Butcher’s stare, it felt like too much. Her fingers toyed with the edge of the dress, fidgeting in that way she did when she was nervous.

“Bit late, don’t ya think?” she asked, her voice light but brittle as she glanced up at him. He looked tired. The kind of tired that sunk deep into the bones, making everything heavy. He didn’t answer right away, just made his way over to the counter, resting his elbows on it as he leaned toward her, eyes scanning her face like he was trying to read something there.

“You closing up soon?” His voice was low, rough, but there was something softer beneath it, hidden beneath the layers of his gruff exterior.

“Yeah, just waiting on one last customer,” she said, nodding to the back where an old man was browsing the shelves with deliberate slowness. He didn’t seem in a rush to leave, and neither did Butcher, it seemed.

He grunted in response, shifting his weight. “Didn’t think you’d be workin’ this late.”

She shrugged, eyes dropping to the counter, fingers running over the grain of the wood, tracing the tiny nicks and scratches that had accumulated over the years. “Needed the hours,” she muttered. Butcher knew why, even if she didn’t say it outright. The debt. Kessler. Everything she’d tangled herself in.

A silence fell between them, thick and heavy like the dusk settling outside. She could feel him watching her, that familiar gaze that made her skin itch, like he could see all the things she was trying to hide. It was always like this with Butcher—he didn’t have to say much to make her feel like she was under a microscope.

“You alright?” His question was simple, but there was weight to it, like it held more than just casual concern.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, too quickly, her voice wavering just enough to betray her. She didn’t look at him, didn’t want him to see the cracks.

Butcher tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if to study her closer. “Ya sure ‘bout that, Doll?”

She hated how easily that nickname slipped out of him, how it softened her resolve even when she didn’t want it to. She glanced up, meeting his eyes for just a second before looking away. He always had a way of getting under her skin, seeing through her defenses without even trying.

The old man at the back of the shop coughed, a reminder that they weren’t alone. Butcher straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest, looking like he was about to say something when the customer shuffled to the front, a stack of books in hand.

She stepped away from Butcher, her heart pounding in her chest, and rang up the sale with hands that were a little too shaky. The man didn’t seem to notice as he gathered his things and nodded politely, heading for the door. The bell chimed again as it swung shut behind him, leaving her alone with Butcher.

The air felt thicker now, the shop quieter. Butcher took a step toward her, his fingers drumming on the countertop. “Doll,” he started, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

She looked at him finally, really looked at him. The dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders seemed to carry the weight of a world that wasn’t entirely his. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His coat was rumpled, like he’d been wearing it for too long, and his shirt was half untucked, one side pulled loose where his belt cut into his waist. But there was something else too—something softer, buried deep in the lines of his face. Concern, maybe. Or guilt. She couldn’t tell anymore.

“I’m fine, Butcher,” she repeated, but this time her voice was quieter, more tired than defiant. She wiped her hands on her dress, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. “You don’t need to keep checking in on me.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into something like a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah? And who’s gonna check in on ya if I don’t?”

The question hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken for too long. She didn’t answer, didn’t know how to. Her eyes drifted to the door, then back to him, and suddenly the space between them felt too small, too intimate.

“I can take care of myself,” she muttered, more to convince herself than him. She didn’t even believe it anymore.

Butcher’s hand twitched, like he wanted to reach out but thought better of it. Instead, he leaned forward, his voice dropping low, rough around the edges. “I ain’t sayin’ you can’t handle yourself, Doll. I know you’re tough. But tough ain’t always enough.”

Her chest tightened, the words sinking deep. She could feel the weight of them pressing down on her, the way Butcher always seemed to pull her in, making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. She wanted to push him away, tell him to leave, but instead, she found herself leaning into it, letting the silence stretch between them.

“You don’t have to do this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You don’t have to fix everything.”

Butcher’s eyes softened, just a fraction, and he let out a breath he’d been holding. “I ain’t tryin’ to fix ya, Doll. Just don’t want ya drownin’, is all.”

There it was again—that concern, that twisted, broken care that made her chest ache. He didn’t know how to show it, not the way people were supposed to, but she felt it anyway, like a pulse between them.

“I’m not drowning.” she whispered, though the words felt like a lie. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself anymore. “Leave it, Butcher.”

Butcher didn’t move, didn’t push, just stood there watching her with that quiet intensity that always made her feel like she was standing on the edge of something. Something dangerous. Something she couldn’t escape from.

The bell above the door chimed again as he turned to leave, but before stepping out into the night, he glanced back at her, eyes lingering for just a second longer than necessary. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Make sure ya lock up, Doll,” he muttered, his voice softer now, like a command but gentler. Then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving her standing in the dim light of the shop, the weight of his presence still hanging in the air.

[pdriesta]

"you don't need no air, you can just breathe me"

pairings — judexblack!girl

genre —fluff, celebrity romance, music video shoot

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 8k

summary — under the city lights of osaka, y/n's music video shoot transforms into a canvas for her profound, all-encompassing love for jude. from playful karaoke sessions to tender kisses, their chemistry is palpable. as they document their romance on camera, they're prepared to take their love public, revealing to the world just how deeply they’re in love.

an — when i tell you i'm obsessed with this song. i knew i had to write about it. this fic is based on the music video of tyla's, breathe me. i would suggest watching to get the vibes of the fic.

masterlist

it all started with a chance meeting—her cousin, one of jude’s teammates, had invited her to madrid for a weekend getaway, thinking she needed a break from the chaos of her rising fame. she had just finished her second world tour, and her voice was everywhere, on every radio, every playlist, but her heart? her heart felt heavy, weighed down by the pressures of being in the spotlight, by always being seen but never really understood.

it was supposed to be just a casual dinner after one of jude’s matches, nothing serious. but from the moment they locked eyes, something clicked. she remembered how shy he had been at first, his usual confidence seeming to falter as he stumbled over his words when they were introduced. she had laughed—softly, the kind of laugh that made his heart race. and from that night on, they were inseparable. not in the obvious, bold way. it was in the quiet moments, the late-night calls when they’d stay up talking about everything and nothing. about music, football, life, dreams. he’d send her snippets of songs he’d found, songs that reminded him of her, and she’d stay on the phone with him while he described in detail the feeling of scoring a goal in front of thousands of fans.

their connection grew over time, a slow burn of longing, affection, and undeniable chemistry. he’d fly out to see her whenever he had a break in his schedule, slipping into her life like he’d always been there—helping her pick out studio outfits, sitting quietly in the corner while she recorded, offering encouragement when she was frustrated. she never had to explain anything to him. jude just understood her in ways no one else ever had.

they made long distance work in a way that felt easy. it wasn’t perfect; there were challenges, but they both cared enough to try. jude made her laugh in moments where she felt like breaking down from the pressure, and she gave him a sense of peace, a place to escape the noise of his own fame. no one really knew about them—whispers, sure, but nothing confirmed. she liked it that way, liked having something that was just theirs. no media frenzy, no cameras in their faces, just… them.

and then one day, after months of dancing around it, jude had asked her to be his girlfriend. they were in london, staying at a little hotel she loved for its vintage charm, and he had looked so nervous. she remembered the way his hands had fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie, the way he had stared at her for a beat too long before finally blurting it out. “i want to be with you… properly. no more ‘friends’ thing. just… us.”

she had smiled, that soft, secret smile she saved just for him, and said yes. and from that moment, they were it for each other.

it had been weeks since they’d last seen each other in person—weeks filled with endless phone calls, facetime sessions, and voice notes, but it wasn’t the same. she had just wrapped up her album launch in her home city, a huge milestone that marked her rise to superstardom. the long flight straight from the launch party to madrid felt like a blur, but she couldn’t care less. she was finally going to see jude.

the moment she stepped through the door of jude’s house, the smell of she smelt dinner from the kitchen and smiled to herself, dropping her bags by the entrance and heading towards the source. there he was, standing by the stove, his back to her as he stirred a pot of something on the burner. she stood there for a second, just watching him, the domesticity of it all filling her chest with warmth. how did she get so lucky?

“i missed you,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

jude turned around immediately, his eyes lighting up the second he saw her. without a word, he crossed the room in two long strides and pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight it almost took her breath away.

“you’re here,” he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “god, i missed you so much.”

she clung to him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against her chest. “missed you too. so much.”

they stood like that for a moment, just holding each other, the rest of the world fading into the background. no paparazzi, no cameras, no pressure. just them. finally, jude pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her waist as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“you didn’t have to fly out so soon,” he said, his thumb brushing over her hip. “you just finished your album launch—you must be exhausted.”

“and miss out on cooking for my hard-working boyfriend?” she teased, her smile widening. “you need a proper meal after all that training. besides, i wanted to be here with you.”

he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “you’re amazing, you know that?”

“i know,” she said with a playful grin. “now, let me help. what are you making?”

“it was supposed to be a surprise,” jude admitted, a sheepish look crossing his face. “but, uh… you know i can’t cook. i need your help with the rice.”

she laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the stove, taking over the rice. it didn’t take long before they fell into an easy rhythm—her stirring the pot, him chopping vegetables at the counter. they chatted about everything and nothing, catching up on all the little details they hadn’t been able to share over the phone. it felt natural, comfortable. like home.

as they cooked, jude kept stealing glances at her, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. god, he’d missed her. missed her laugh, missed her voice, missed the way she made everything feel so easy.

“so,” he started, watching her as she plated the food, “congratulations on finishing the album.”

she turned to him, her face lighting up. “thank you. it still doesn’t feel real, you know? like, after all these months… it’s finally done.”

“i’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice soft but full of sincerity. “i know how much work you put into it.”

she felt her heart swell at his words, warmth spreading through her chest. “you helped me more than you know,” she admitted. “all those late-night calls when i was stressed out… you were there through it all.”

“of course i was. i’ll always pick up no matter the time, ” jude said, stepping closer to her. “i wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

there was a beat of silence as they stood there, the weight of their shared experiences hanging in the air. it had been a long road—balancing their hectic schedules, making long-distance work, supporting each other through the highs and lows. but somehow, they’d made it. they were stronger because of it.

as they sat down at the table, jude watched her, something unreadable in his eyes. she looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“what?” she asked, her voice teasing.

he grinned, leaning back in his chair. “i have a surprise for you.”

“another one?” she laughed, already feeling spoiled just by being with him.

“yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “i know how much you’ve been wanting to take a break, and, well… i thought now would be a good time.”

she tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “okay, go on.”

“we’re going to japan,” jude blurted out, unable to contain his excitement any longer.

her eyes widened, her fork clattering against her plate as she stared at him in disbelief. “wait, what?”

“i booked us a trip,” he continued, his grin now fully stretching across his face. “to celebrate your album launch. you’ve been talking about japan forever, so i thought… why not?”

she blinked, her heart racing as she processed his words. “japan? like… actually?”

he nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “yep. we leave in two days.”

without thinking, she launched herself across the table and into his arms, her excitement bursting out of her in a flurry of kisses. “jude, you didn’t!”

he laughed, wrapping his arms around her tightly, holding her close. “i did. anything for you.”

she pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shining with tears of joy. “i can’t believe this. i’ve always wanted to go…”

“i know,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “and now we get to go together.”

she kissed him again, her lips lingering against his as she whispered, “thank you.”

“you deserve it,” jude murmured, his lips brushing against hers. “all of it. and now, we get to have some time for just us.”

they stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other, the excitement of the trip already buzzing between them. finally, she pulled back, a wide grin still plastered on her face.

“okay, i need to pack,” she said, already getting up from the table.

“oh no, you don’t,” jude said, standing up and pulling her back into his arms. “you’re staying right here”

she laughed, her arms wrapping around his neck as she leaned into him. “you’re terrible.”

“you love it,” he teased, kissing her softly. “besides, we’ve got two days. plenty of time to pack later.”

she sighed, knowing he was right but still feeling the urge to get everything ready. but as his lips brushed against her neck, his hands slipping under her shirt, she decided packing could wait a little longer.

“fine,” she murmured, her voice breathless, “but only because you’re distracting me.”

“good,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck, “that’s the plan.”

she could still feel the lingering warmth of jude’s embrace from earlier as they sat on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by open suitcases. after dinner, they hadn’t even bothered finishing, too caught up in the excitement of their upcoming trip to japan. it was something they’d talked about for months—her dream destination, a place she’d always wanted to visit for the culture, the food, the fashion, and now, the two of them would get to explore it together.

she was still buzzing from the excitement, barely able to focus on packing as she sat across from him now, folding clothes with a distracted smile on her face.

"japan, jude!" she grinned, still giddy from his surprise. "i can't believe you did this."

he chuckled, watching her with that soft, adoring look that always made her heart skip a beat. “how could i not? you’ve been talking about it forever.”

“but still…” she leaned forward, her hands cupping his face. “thank you.”

his eyes softened, and he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek. “anything for you.”

they stayed like that for a moment, their foreheads resting together, their breaths syncing. the world outside felt distant, irrelevant compared to the warmth they shared in that little bedroom. he made everything feel so easy, so right. she didn’t want to hide that anymore.

“jude,” she started, her voice a little quieter now, “i’ve been thinking…”

he pulled back slightly, searching her eyes, sensing the shift in her tone. “what’s on your mind?”

she hesitated for a second, gathering her thoughts. “i don’t want to hide us anymore.”

his brow furrowed, surprise flashing in his eyes as he stilled, hands lightly resting on her hips. “what do you mean?”

“i mean…” she bit her lip, her heart pounding. “i’m tired of pretending like we’re just friends. everyone already suspects something, and i don’t want to keep this a secret. i want the world to know about us. i want to be with you—fully. no more hiding.”

he studied her for a long moment, his expression softening, concern flickering in his gaze. “are you sure? you don’t have to do this because of pressure or anything. i’m okay with how things are, as long as you’re comfortable.”

her heart melted at his words, at the way he always put her first. she smiled, her hand sliding down to rest on his chest. “i know you are. but i’ve thought about it, and i’m ready. besides…” her eyes twinkled with mischief, “i want you to be in my next music video.”

his face lit up, his earlier concern dissolving into excitement. “wait, what? seriously? i can finally be in one of your videos?”

“yep,” she grinned, loving the way his excitement bubbled up, the way he could never hide how happy he was. “i want you in the next one.”

“which song?” he asked, already running through ideas in his mind.

“breathe me,” she said, her voice soft and full of meaning.

his expression changed in an instant, turning tender and sentimental. “that’s my favorite,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “you know how much that song means to me.”

before she could respond, jude picked her up and gently tossed her on the bed, his arms wrapping around her as he buried his face in her neck, peppering her skin with kisses that sent a thrill through her body. “my beautiful, talented girlfriend,” he whispered against her skin, his voice warm and full of pride, “and now the whole world will know she’s mine.”

she laughed, trying to wiggle out from under him, her heart swelling with affection. “you’re so possessive.”

“you love it,” he teased, his lips lingering at the sensitive spot just below her ear, making her toes curl.

“maybe i do,” she admitted, her fingers threading through his soft curls, tugging lightly in a way she knew he loved. his breath hitched against her neck, and she felt a rush of satisfaction at the effect she had on him.

they stayed like that, tangled in each other, their suitcases long forgotten on the floor. jude’s hands roamed her sides, his touch sending warmth through her with every brush of his fingers. his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. she sighed into him, her body relaxing under the weight of his love, feeling the world around them blur into nothingness.

“jude,” she whispered, her voice soft, breathy. “what about packing?”

he grinned against her skin, his breath warm as he kissed the spot just below her ear again, his favorite spot. “forget it. packing can wait.”

she smiled, knowing full well they’d regret it later when they were rushing to pack last minute. but right now? none of it mattered. all that mattered was him—the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world, the way he looked at her like she was everything he had ever wanted.

he kissed her again, this time on the lips, slow and deep, his hand cupping her jaw as he tilted her head back slightly. she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space between them. she could feel his heartbeat against her chest, steady and strong, grounding her in the moment.

“i love you,” he murmured against her lips, his voice soft, full of sincerity. “so much.”

her heart swelled, the words wrapping around her like a blanket of warmth. she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her thumb tracing his jaw. “i love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

he smiled, leaning down to kiss her again, and she knew—no matter what, they’d be okay. they’d face the world together, hand in hand, no more hiding, no more pretending.

just them. together.

the next two days blurred together in a mix of tangled sheets, stolen kisses, and whispered confessions. it was as if the world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the two of them, making up for lost time. they hadn’t been apart for that long, but being in each other’s arms again felt like they were rediscovering something they’d been craving for weeks.

y/n spent her time meticulously double-checking packages, ensuring everything they needed for the trip to japan was in order, while jude would laugh at how organized she was, teasing her every time she opened her meticulously crafted itinerary.

“it’s been my dream forever,” she’d say, her eyes bright with excitement, “and you made it happen. my baby made it happen.”

he couldn’t help but smile at the pride and joy in her voice. she had been riding a high since the moment they got back together—he loved seeing her like this, full of light, full of excitement. the exhaustion from her long flight seemed to disappear in the wake of her adrenaline-fueled happiness.

the night before their flight, she could barely sleep. her mind was too busy buzzing with thoughts of their upcoming adventure, her excitement bubbling over to the point where she couldn’t contain it. just before dawn, she woke jude up by straddling him in bed, her knees on either side of him as she bounced excitedly.

“jude, wake up!” she whispered loudly, her hands on his chest, her grin wide.

he groaned, still half-asleep, but when he cracked open one eye and saw the look on her face, he couldn’t help but laugh. “what time is it?” his voice was groggy, heavy with sleep.

“time to go to japan!” she beamed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “come on, get up! we have to get ready.”

he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her firmly in place, even as she squirmed on top of him. “you’re too energetic for this early,” he mumbled, but the smile on his face betrayed his words.

“come on, jude,” she giggled, leaning down further until her face was inches from his. “aren’t you excited?”

“i’d be more excited if i got a few more hours of sleep,” he teased, but when she pouted at him, he gave in, lifting his head to kiss her gently. “fine, fine. i’m up.”

they got ready in their sweatsuits, her braids knotted on the top her head, his curls wild and unruly, both looking far too casual for the excitement of the adventure ahead. they skipped breakfast, their — mainyly y/n’s — nerves too high for eating, and after a short ride to the airport and a whirlwind of travel logistics, they were on their way.

the first few days in japan felt like a dream.

jude watched her, amazed, as she lit up at every turn, her eyes wide with wonder, soaking in every detail of the places they visited. they wandered through bustling markets, she dragged him through every boutique she could find, and he snapped photos of her at every chance he got. she had insisted on buying a digital camera for the trip, wanting to capture every moment, every memory, and it hadn’t left his hands since.

“stop,” she laughed, playfully swatting at him as he pointed the camera at her for the hundredth time, snapping a candid shot of her mid-laugh.

“never,” he grinned, lowering the camera just slightly to catch her eyes. “you’re too beautiful not to capture.”

her cheeks flushed, a smile tugging at her lips as she playfully rolled her eyes. “you’re too much sometimes.”

they walked hand-in-hand through the streets of tokyo, exploring temples, visiting art galleries, and trying every food stall they could find. one evening, as the sun set over the skyline, they found themselves in a quiet park, surrounded by cherry blossom trees in full bloom. the petals fell like soft pink snowflakes, covering the ground in a delicate blanket, and she stood in the middle of it all, spinning slowly, her face lifted toward the sky, eyes closed as she let the moment wash over her.

jude, as usual, couldn’t help but snap a picture.

“you’re obsessed,” she teased when she caught him, her voice light with affection.

“can you blame me?” he said, walking over to her and pulling her into his arms. he kissed her gently, the soft petals falling around them like confetti.

their days were full of exploration, but the nights were intimate, a contrast to the busy city around them. they’d return to their hotel, collapsing onto the bed in fits of laughter or quiet exhaustion, and he’d hold her close, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder, her neck, her jaw.

one night, after a long day of sightseeing, they returned to their room, y/n still riding high on the joy of everything they’d seen. she was bouncing around the room, too excited to wind down.

“you’re like a kid on christmas,” jude said with a laugh, watching her flit around.

“i can’t help it!” she grinned, “everything here is just so perfect. i don’t want it to end.”

“well, we’ve still got a few days,” he said, walking over and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.

she let out a soft hum, leaning back against his chest, tilting her head to the side to give him better access as he kissed her neck. “we should go to the baths tomorrow,” she said softly, her voice almost dreamy. “it would be so relaxing…”

“whatever you want,” jude murmured against her skin, his hands running up and down her sides, sending a shiver through her.

her breathing hitched slightly, her body responding to his touch. she turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a slow, deep kiss. their movements were languid, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.

they made love slowly that night, the city lights casting a soft glow through the windows, illuminating the room in shades of gold and pink. every touch, every kiss felt more meaningful, more intense, like they were imprinting the memory of this trip into each other’s skin.

afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, her head resting on his chest, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her back.

“i’m so happy,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “this trip, everything… it’s all perfect.”

he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i’m glad. you deserve this.”

they drifted off to sleep like that, wrapped in each other, the weight of the world feeling light and far away.

the next morning, she woke up before him, as usual. the sunlight filtered in through the curtains, casting a soft glow on his face. he looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. she watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with love for this boy who had made all her dreams come true.

unable to resist, she straddled him again, just like she had done before their flight, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his jaw.

“wake up, sleepyhead,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly.

he groaned, blinking his eyes open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he realized what was happening. “again?” he teased, his hands instinctively settling on her hips.

“can’t help it,” she grinned, leaning down to kiss him again, her heart light with the joy of knowing they had so much more time to explore, to make memories, to just be together.

and in that moment, nothing else mattered. just them, their love, and the promise of more adventures to come.

jude burst through the door of the karaoke parlour with a grin so wide it practically lit up the room. y/n was perched on his back, arms wrapped loosely around his neck, her laughter echoing in the small space as he carried her inside effortlessly. she had tried to walk, but jude had insisted, saying something about conserving her energy for the important things—like singing.

"i'm perfectly capable of walking, you know," she teased, resting her chin on his shoulder as her fingers played with the collar of his hoodie.

"oh, i know," jude replied, flashing her a wink in the mirror as they passed by. "but where’s the fun in that? besides, i gotta keep my girl close."

her heart fluttered at the casual way he said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world. and to him, it probably was. they had been inseparable since landing in japan, and with every passing hour, he found more ways to remind her just how much he adored her.

"we're supposed to be shooting a music video, not messing around," she said, her voice half-scolding but filled with warmth as she tightened her grip on him.

"who says we can’t do both?" he chuckled, adjusting her on his back as he carried her further inside, the neon lights reflecting off the polished floors. "besides, you look cute up there. the cameras will love it."

she rolled her eyes playfully, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away. jude always knew how to make her feel like she was the center of his universe, even in the middle of all the chaos.

they reached the private karaoke room, and her manager, waiting by the doorway, shook his head with an amused smile. "you two look ready. just be yourselves, have fun, and don’t worry about the cameras. this is the first scene, so let’s make it a good one."

"no problem," jude responded, setting y/n down gently. she slid off his back, her feet touching the ground with a light thud, but he didn’t let go of her. instead, his hand immediately found its place on her waist, fingers brushing the fabric of her shirt

“you ready?” he asked, his eyes full of excitement.

she smiled up at him, feeling the electric buzz of the moment. “always.”

and with that, they stepped inside the cozy karaoke room, neon lights casting a soft, colorful glow over everything. jude, ever the gentleman, let her lead the way before pulling her back into him, wrapping his arms around her from behind as they took in the vibe of the place.

the energy in the karaoke bar shifted as the lights dimmed further, casting a neon glow across the small space. the hum of excitement lingered in the air, and y/n felt her heart race in time with the music that was about to fill the room. this wasn’t just another part of the music video shoot—it was a reflection of them. and in a place like this, with jude by her side, the lines between acting and reality blurred effortlessly.

“okay, just be yourselves, have fun, and let it feel natural,” her manager reminded them with a smile before leaving them to their own devices.

as soon as the door closed, jude grabbed one of the microphones, his signature mischievous grin already in place. he was a ball of playful energy, and y/n couldn’t help but match his excitement. he tugged her toward the couch, pulling her onto his lap before she could even protest.

“jude!” she laughed, settling into him, her back pressed against his firm chest as his arms wrapped around her waist possessively.

“what?” he raised his brows innocently, the mic still in hand. “i’m just getting comfortable.” his fingers gently traced patterns along the curve of her waist, his warmth radiating into her skin even through the fabric of her clothes.

she rolled her eyes, half-heartedly swatting his chest. “you’re going to be a distraction.”

“that’s the plan, baby.” he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. “besides, i know your song better than you do. someone has to carry this performance.”

y/n opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the familiar beat of her song filled the room, and jude jumped right into the first verse, completely stealing the moment. his voice was loud and exaggeratedly dramatic, deliberately off-key just to make her laugh. and it worked.

she tried to hold it in, but his enthusiasm was too infectious, and she burst out laughing, her body shaking against him as she grabbed for the mic. “jude, give me that! it’s my song!”

but he held the mic just out of reach, his grin widening. “oh, you mean our song?” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before continuing to belt out the lyrics like he was performing a sold-out concert. “i’m doing you a favor, really. don’t want you to get tired singing the whole thing.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh, settling back into his embrace as he sang the first verse, but when the chorus hit, she grabbed the mic back and joined in, their voices blending in a mix of playful harmony. jude’s offbeat delivery was charming, the kind of over-the-top ridiculousness that only he could pull off, while her smooth vocals carried the melody.

they were completely in sync, leaning into each other, both singing along to her words, their bodies touching in subtle but intimate ways. jude’s hand rested low on her hip, his thumb tracing small circles that sent warmth through her body. her fingers absentmindedly played with the curls at the nape of his neck as she sang, feeling the familiar comfort of his touch, the way his presence always seemed to calm her nerves.

as the lyrics flashed on the screen, jude continued to tease, taking over the mic every chance he got, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered the words, his voice sending a thrill through her.

“i know you love it when i sing your songs, baby,” he murmured between verses, his breath warm against her skin. “can’t help myself.”

she shook her head, her smile softening as she glanced back at him. “you’re impossible.”

“you love it,” he shot back, his voice low, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

maybe she did. his energy was intoxicating, pulling her into his orbit without even trying. she turned slightly in his lap, her hands finding his chest as they both continued to sing, the playful atmosphere morphing into something more charged, more intimate.

jude’s fingers played at the hem of her shirt, his touches light and teasing, sending jolts of warmth through her body with every brush of his fingertips. the lyrics of her song spilled from his lips, but there was something about the way he sang them that made her heart race.

“you’re making this hard to focus,” she whispered, her voice soft and laced with affection as she leaned closer, her lips hovering near his.

he smirked, his hand sliding up to cup her face gently. “maybe i’m just giving you some inspiration.”

before she could respond, he pulled her closer, his lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else—the cameras, the crew outside, even the song playing in the background.

she deepened the kiss, her fingers curling into his shirt as she let herself get lost in him, in the way his hands felt on her skin, the way his lips moved against hers. it was the kind of kiss that made her feel like they were the only two people in the world, and she had to remind herself that they were supposed to be filming a music video, not getting completely caught up in each other.

when they finally pulled away, breathless, jude’s forehead rested against hers, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “see? told you i’d make it memorable.”

she bit her lip, fighting the smile that threatened to take over. “you always do.”

the second verse started, and y/n picked up the mic again, this time determined to actually sing her own song. she sang the words softly, her voice steady, and as she did, she could feel jude’s eyes on her, watching her with that soft, adoring gaze that always made her heart skip a beat. he didn’t need to say anything—his touch, his closeness, and the way he looked at her said everything.

when the chorus came back around, he joined in again, this time matching her tone more seriously, their voices intertwining perfectly. he pulled her even closer, his hand resting low on her hip, grounding her in a way that made her feel like nothing else mattered but the two of them.

they were wrapped up in each other, the music flowing around them, their voices blending together like they had been doing this forever. and in a way, they had. this wasn’t just for the cameras—this was them, this was real, and it felt perfect.

by the time the bridge came around, jude was back to being playful, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered the lyrics along with her, his hands exploring the curves of her body in a way that was subtle enough to stay out of the shot but still made her heart race.

as the final notes of the song played out, y/n turned to face him fully, her knees on either side of his legs, her hands resting on his shoulders as she smiled down at him, her chest still rising and falling with the remnants of their playful duet.

“you’re the worst,” she teased, though her voice was filled with affection.

he grinned up at her, his hands resting on her hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles into her skin. “the worst, huh? i thought i was your muse.”

“you are,” she admitted softly, leaning in to kiss him quickly, her lips barely grazing his. “but that doesn’t mean you get to steal my spotlight.”

he chuckled, pulling her closer so that her forehead pressed against his. “you’ll always have the spotlight, baby. i’m just here to support you.”

they stayed like that for a moment, the intimacy between them palpable as the world outside their little bubble felt distant and unimportant.

the music video crew could’ve been filming for hours, but y/n barely noticed. with jude by her side, everything felt like a dream—a perfect blend of laughter, music, and playful touches. every time she sang a verse, he’d find some way to distract her, whether by stealing the mic or trailing kisses along her jawline.

and when he wasn’t singing, he was watching her, his eyes never leaving her as she sang the words she had written, words that felt all the more special because he was there, right beside her.

the streets of osaka buzzed with life, the vibrant energy of the city wrapping around them like a warm embrace. jude and y/n strolled hand in hand, their fingers intertwined as they navigated through the crowd. the neon lights from the shops and street vendors painted everything in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting a soft glow over them as they walked.

jude’s arm draped protectively around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close. every so often, he’d lean down and press a quick, affectionate kiss to her temple, his lips brushing her skin with a tender warmth. y/n’s head rested against his shoulder, her smile bright and carefree as they moved together through the bustling streets.

“this place is incredible,” y/n said, her voice filled with excitement as she took in the sights and sounds of osaka. she reached up to gently squeeze jude’s hand, her eyes sparkling with joy. “i’m so glad we’re here.”

“me too, baby,” jude replied, his tone soft and affectionate. “i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, especially not without you.”

he guided her around a particularly crowded corner, the arm he sling over your shoulder guiding you, his touch firm but loving. whenever they encountered a bump or a tricky step, jude was quick to steady her, his concern evident as he made sure she was safe and comfortable.

“watch your step here,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of playfulness and care as he helped her over a small uneven patch in the pavement. his hand lingered on her waist for a moment longer than necessary, his touch a reassuring presence.

y/n chuckled, her heart fluttering at the way he always seemed to anticipate her needs. “i’m not going to trip, you know. but thanks for looking out for me.”

“always,” jude said, his smile warm and genuine. he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close and resting his chin on top of her head. “besides, i like having you this close. makes me feel like i’m doing something right.”

they continued their leisurely stroll, moving past street vendors selling everything from colorful trinkets to delicious-smelling street food. jude’s protective nature was evident as he scanned the surroundings, making sure no one intruded on their personal space. every now and then, he’d glance down at y/n, his gaze soft and full of affection.

as they walked, jude playfully lifted y/n off her feet, spinning her around in a circle before setting her back down gently. her laughter rang out, a clear, melodic sound that made jude’s heart skip a beat.

“jude, stop! you’re making me dizzy!” y/n laughed, trying to regain her balance as she looked up at him with a playful grin.

“just making sure you’re having fun,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and intimate.

“i am,” she said, leaning into him as he wrapped his arms around her again, their bodies pressed close together. “i’ve never had so much fun just walking around.”

they wandered into a quaint little alleyway, where the atmosphere felt more intimate and personal. the soft glow of paper lanterns hung above them, casting a warm, golden light. jude and y/n continued to walk, their bodies perfectly in sync, their shared smiles and stolen glances making every moment feel special.

at one point, y/n stopped to admire a small, handcrafted item at a street stall. jude watched her with a loving gaze, his hands tucked into his pockets as he observed her fascination with the delicate piece. he stepped closer, his presence a comforting shield as he stood beside her.

“you should get it,” jude suggested, his voice low and gentle. “it’ll be a nice memento from our trip.”

“you think so?” y/n asked, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“definitely,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “anything that makes you smile is worth it.”

the vendor handed y/n the item with a warm smile, and jude watched as her face lit up with happiness. he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the sight of her joy.

throughout their exploration, jude kept his camera ready, capturing every moment. “seriously, y/n,” he’d say, showing her a photo. “you look incredible. how do you manage to be so beautiful all the time?”

y/n would laugh, her cheeks flushing slightly. “you’re too much, jude. stop making me shy.”

“it’s true,” he’d reply, his gaze affectionate. “you’re always beautiful. i just want to remember every single moment with you.”

as the evening drew near, the city lights began to sparkle even more brightly, and jude and y/n found themselves at a charming little café. jude opened the door for y/n, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her inside with a loving touch.

“i think we’ve earned a little break,” jude said, his voice warm as he led her to a cozy corner table.

“i agree,” y/n said, slipping into the seat with a content sigh. she looked up at jude, her eyes full of affection. “thank you for making today so perfect.”

“anything for you, baby,” jude replied, his voice full of sincerity. he leaned in to kiss her softly, their lips meeting in a tender, intimate moment that spoke of their deep connection.

as they settled into their seats, jude’s protective instinct remained evident, but it was clear that his concern was born from love and admiration. with every touch and glance, jude made sure that y/n knew how much love he had for her.

the night’s air in osaka was filled with the tantalizing aromas of street food as jude and y/n found a cozy spot on the curb in front of a bustling food truck. the city’s neon lights flickered around them, creating a vibrant backdrop to their simple yet perfect moment.

they sat close together, their knees almost touching as they shared an assortment of delicious street food. jude held a skewer of yakitori, and with a playful grin, he offered it to y/n.

“here, baby, try this,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

y/n took a bite, her eyes widening in delight. “oh my gosh, that’s amazing!” she exclaimed, leaning in to give jude a quick peck on the cheek. “you did well.”

jude chuckled, his gaze soft and affectionate. “well, I guess it’s not just the food that’s amazing.” he picked up a piece of takoyaki and offered it to y/n with a teasing smile. “open wide.”

y/n giggled, taking the bite and savoring the rich, savory flavor. “you know, if you keep feeding me like this, i might just get used to it.”

“oh, I’m counting on it,” jude replied, his voice low and flirtatious. he leaned closer, brushing his lips against y/n’s ear. “i love taking care of you, baby.”

y/n shivered slightly at his touch, a smile spreading across her face. “you’re always take care of me,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing.

jude’s fingers brushed against y/n’s as he took a sip from his drink, their hands lingering together for a moment longer than necessary. he gazed at her with a look of adoration, his thumb gently caressing her hand.

“you know,” jude said softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to y/n’s neck. “you look absolutely beautiful, even with street food smeared on your face.”

y/n laughed, her heart fluttering at his affectionate gesture. “oh, stop it,” she teased, playfully nudging him with her shoulder. “has anyone told you, you’re quite the charmer, “bellingham?.”

“i can’t help it,” jude replied, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “you’re just so perfect, baby. i can’t help but let you know how much i adore you.”

they continued to feed each other, their playful banter punctuated by affectionate touches and teasing kisses. jude would occasionally lean in to press a soft kiss to y/n’s temple or brush his lips against her cheek, making her heart race with happiness.

“jude, you’re making it hard for me to eat my food,” y/n said with a playful pout, trying to hide her smile.

“that’s the idea,” jude said, his voice full of affection. “i’d rather have you focused on me.”

as they finished their meal, jude wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close. they sat together, enjoying the warmth of each other’s presence and the vibrant energy of the city. jude’s fingers gently played with y/n’s hair as they watched the world go by, their hearts full of contentment and love.

the taxi ride back to the hotel was bathed in a soft, golden hue from the streetlights outside, the cityscape slipping past as jude and y/n shared an intimate moment. they were still wrapped in the magic of their music video shoot, the camera capturing every tender glance and playful touch.

as they settled into the back seat, jude pulled y/n close, their bodies pressed together in the confined space. her head rested on his shoulder, his hand gently caressing her cheek. the rhythm of their breaths mingled with the hum of the taxi, creating a cocoon of warmth and affection.

y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she began to lip-sync the lyrics of her song, her voice a soft murmur against his skin. “breathe me, baby,” she sang for the camera, and the leaned in so her lips grazing his earlobe. “can you feel how much I need you?”

jude's breath hitched at the intimate touch, his eyes locked on hers as he cupped her face in his hands. “every word you sing,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “makes me fall for you even more.”

y/n’s eyes sparkled with mischief and love as she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “i’m so glad you said yes to being in this video,” she murmured, her fingers trailing down his chest. “it’s been perfect.”

jude’s smile widened, his lips finding hers again in a slow, passionate kiss. “anything for you, baby,” he said against her lips, his hands sliding to her waist. “you make everything perfect.”

the taxi swayed gently as jude’s hands roamed her back, pulling her further into his lap. y/n’s fingers threaded through his hair, their kisses growing deeper and more urgent with every passing second. the city lights flickered outside, casting a soft glow on their entwined figures.

“for the rest of my life, allow me to show you just how much I love you,” jude whispered, his lips trailing down to her neck, his breath warm against her skin. “you’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

y/n shivered at the heat of his words, her fingers gripping his shirt as she tilted her head back, offering him more access. “i’m yours,” she whispered breathlessly. “always.”

the taxi ride became a passionate, private moment where the world outside ceased to exist. their connection was palpable, their love evident in every touch, kiss, and whispered promise. as they finally arrived at the hotel, their hearts raced with anticipation, knowing they had shared a moment that was as intimate as it was unforgettable.

the night was drawing to a close as jude and y/n returned to their hotel, the city lights of osaka twinkling in the distance. the atmosphere in the hotel lobby was serene, a stark contrast to the bustling streets they had explored earlier. the final scenes of the music video were set to be filmed in the quiet, intimate setting of the hotel.

as they entered the elevator, jude and y/n positioned themselves in the corner, the camera crew ready to capture the last moments of their shoot. jude’s arm was wrapped around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close as they began to sing the final lines of y/n’s song, “breathe me.” their voices harmonized perfectly, the lyrics echoing softly in the confined space.

y/n leaned into jude, her head resting against his chest as she sang the poignant lyrics. jude’s gaze was soft and adoring as he looked down at her, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. their intimate performance was filled with passion, their connection evident in every touch and glance.

“you don’t need no air” jude murmured, his lips brushing against her temple as he sang. “you can just breathe me, breathe me.”

y/n smiled up at him, her eyes shimmering with affection. “you make it so easy to sing this song.”

jude’s playful side emerged as he gazed at y/n with a mischievous grin. without warning, he scooped her up into his arms, lifting her effortlessly. her laughter rang out, a bright, melodious sound that filled the elevator.

“jude, what are you doing?” y/n giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her.

“just making sure you’re comfortable,” jude teased, his voice warm and filled with adoration. “and maybe getting one last chance to show off my strong arms.”

“oh, really?” y/n playfully challenged, her eyes twinkling. “i didn’t realize you were so confident.”

“i’m always confident when it comes to you, baby,” jude said, his voice dripping with affection.

as they continued their playful banter, jude’s kisses grew more lingering. he pressed his lips to y/n’s neck, his breath warm against her skin. her eyes fluttered shut, a shiver of pleasure running through her.

the elevator doors opened, and jude carried y/n down the hallway, their laughter and teasing filling the space. the camera followed their every move, capturing their loving interaction.

as they reached their hotel room, jude kicked the door open with a gentle slam, his arms still wrapped around y/n. the room was bathed in soft, warm light, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

“careful, baby,” jude murmured as he lowered y/n to the floor, his hands lingering on her waist. “i don’t want to drop you.”

“don’t worry, i trust you,” y/n said, her voice filled with affection. she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. jude’s hands roamed her back, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened.

“this has been amazing,” y/n whispered against his lips, her eyes full of love. “thank you for making it so special.”

“anything for you, baby,” jude replied, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re my everything, you know that.”

with a final, lingering kiss, jude broke away just enough to look into y/n’s eyes. “now that the cameras are off and i i’ve got to show how much i love my beautiful, talented girlfriend. i think this next part should be for my eye’s only.”

y/n’s smile was a mixture of excitement and anticipation. “oh? and what do you have in mind?”

jude’s eyes sparkled with mischief and love. “you’ll see,” he said, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “but for now, let’s just say that the night is ours.”

as the door to the hotel room locked with a soft click, the final scene of their music video came to a close. jude and y/n remained in their embrace, their hearts full of the love and passion they had shared throughout the day.

with a final, affectionate kiss, jude guided y/n towards the plush bed, their laughter mingling with the gentle hum of the city outside. the world outside faded away, leaving them wrapped in their own little bubble of happiness, ready to enjoy the rest of their night in each other’s arms.

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @bbgkoo @ts1mp0ne @angryflowerwitch @niahxo @httpstoyosi @deonn-jaelle @4ngrysgf @adarkskinarchives @thelightknight21 @fandomwarrior98 @tobesolonely123 @tmthethwa471

[exdeputysonso]

The Mound Builders (1976) Press Photo

[snazzy-serpent]

How did I never notice this before....

The literal Bentley logo has angel wings on it

[fanaille]

• mille fille closet by lodispotto •

[cottoncandyrhythmqueen]

[mios-axe]

[lightsoutletsgo]

bear hugs — cl.16

pairing: charles leclerc x bearman!reader | ollie bearman x oldersister!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: mentions of food, specific clothing/outfits detailed but no specific body descriptions used, tooth rotting fluff, charles and reader being awkward and cheesy, lots of giggling, charles and y/n are just two shy babies who kiss softly, pretty emotional scene where y/n and ollie are the cutest siblings taglist: @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @arieslost @weekendlusting

You groaned as your peaceful sleep was disturbed, but by what exactly you weren’t sure. You rolled over, eyes slowly blinking at the way the morning light was pouring through the curtains. Oh. Your phone was ringing. You stretched out an arm to grab your phone from where it had been charging on the bedside table all night. Just who was calling and waking you up? You winced as your phone screen shone far too brightly for your poor eyes. Reading the caller ID you huffed and threw your phone onto the bed next to you, before throwing an arm over your eyes to go back to sleep. Sometimes your brother could be so annoying.

Your phone stopped ringing and in the silence you felt yourself gently slipping back into sleep. Until the ringing started again, growling you felt around for your phone before answering with a short tone, “What Ols? I was asleeeeep…” You whined,  “Turn your camera on!” Ollie practically yelled at you. You shut your eyes with a groan, doing as he asked, “Ollie stop shouting-” “Ferrari called.” You stopped at his interruption and sat up suddenly, wide awake as you stared at your little brother, “W-wha…?” “I’m driving for them. This weekend. Carlos is sick and so I’m standing in for him.” Ollie stared at you, practically vibrating on the spot with how excited he was. 

“What the fuck Ollie?!” You gaped at your phone, tears already welling up in your eyes, “Are you serious?” Your brother’s laugh rang through the speaker and you watched as he nodded on screen, “Yeah I just got the call!” “Ols this is insane…” Your voice trailed off as he beamed at you, “I’m shaking to be honest… is that weird? I feel like that’s weird-” “Uh you just got a call from Ferrari that you’re driving in F1 this weekend, I think it’s pretty normal all things considered.” You reasoned, he released a shaky exhale, “You’ll come and watch from the garage with Dad right?” “Obviously, dumbass.” He stuck his tongue out childishly as you checked the time, “I guess we’ll be there in like an hour?” You paused for a moment, “Hey Ollie?” “Hmm?” You smiled at the way his excitement was so visible, “I’m really proud of you, you know that right?” “I love you.” Was all he said in reply, “Love you too stinky, now go eat some breakfast! I’ll be there soon.” You clicked ‘end call’ and sat on your hotel bed in silence. What an insane weekend. You didn’t think you could get any prouder of him after his amazing performance in F2 and gaining that all important P1 position and yet here you were about to dress in Ferrari red and watch your brother race one of the most famous F1 circuits in the world for one of the top teams. 

You fell back against the pillows with a squeal, kicking your legs and giggling in excitement. You grabbed your phone and texted your Dad,

Jumping out of bed you quickly showered before thanking whatever higher power was out there that you’d packed some cute red clothing options this time round including your vintage Ferrari jacket. You grabbed a pair of your favourite jeans and a plain white t-shirt before quickly showering and fixing your hair. After getting dressed and finishing your routine you made sure to grab your bag and you were off to the track. 

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

You were used to being in the garages for the F2 races, you’d been to more than your fair share of them to support Ollie, but this was another level. The amount of people; mechanics, PR, sponsors, supporters, engineers, photographers. Your ears were already ringing and you hadn’t even heard the cars yet. A shout of your name grabbed your attention and you turned in the garage to see your brother hurtling towards you, “Y/N!!” You were practically winded as he hugged you tightly, “I’m so glad you’re here!” “Hey stinky.” You wrapped your arms around him, “Oooooo bear hug!” You joked. Ever since you could remember it had been a running joke in your family to call every hug a bear hug, after your last name. You often joked that no one could give hugs like the Bearman family, and only you and your family members could give a certified ‘bear hug’.  “How you feeling?” Ollie stood back up straight, fixing his cap, “Excited!” “Good.” He nodded at your jacket, “Bet you’re glad you brought that now!” You laughed, “Maybe I subconsciously knew…” A cough from behind you made you spin round and you gasped as a man stood right behind you, “May I please get past you? Thank you.” You felt him skim past your back and your knees practically melted at the slight accent and lilt in his voice, your eyes followed him as he walked to the other side of the garage to talk to some of the mechanics. Ollie gave a snort from beside you, “Hellooooo? Earth to Y/N!” His hand waved in front of your face and you slapped it away, looking at him with wide eyes, “Ollie. That was Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc just spoke to me.” 

Charles exhaled almost nervously as he walked past you. He had no clue who you were but he wanted to find out. You’d immediately caught his eye as soon as he’d walked into the garage and now he was hooked. He turned back subtly to look at you and felt his stomach sink as he watched you laugh with Ollie. Of course a pretty girl like you would already be taken. In your Ferrari jacket his mind started racing with thoughts of how you’d look with his number on your back or on your cap. Wait what? He didn’t even know you and he was fantasising about you. Clearly you were someone important to his new junior teammate and he needed to focus on the task at hand. 

“You know you’re drooling,” Your brother joked and you hissed at him, punching his shoulder, barely taking your eyes off of Charles. Ollie rolled his eyes, “In my excitement I forgot about your little crush-,” A slap to his stomach had him doubling over and shutting up as you glared at him. “It’s not a crush!” You defended, “I just… respect him as a driver.” He scoffed, “Yeah right. Well when you’re done fangirling, I need your help.” You shook your head to clear your daydreams and turned to him, “What do you need?” 

Your brother beckoned you to follow him back through the garage. Weaving between people and winding your way through the halls, he opened the door of his driver’s room and sank down onto the small couch that had been placed there. You watched as for a second his excited demeanour dropped, a hint of nervousness peeking through. He fumbled with his hands, cracking and clicking his knuckles, thumb absentmindedly scratching over the back of his hand. You sat down next to him and said nothing, just let your hand fall on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, “You’ll be fine.” With that one sentence you simply sat in silence. Ollie’s head dropped to your shoulder and you rested your head on his, understanding he just needed you there. All day he’d acted like he wasn’t nervous. He’d remained cool as a cucumber in front of the cameras and media, he’d sat through interview after interview, he’d met far too many people to remember who they actually all were, he was doing his best to get to grips with a new car after just one practice session and he had still not shown any signs of nervousness where the public or potential F1 employers could see. But you knew. Here in this room he wasn’t Ollie Bearman, F1 rookie or Ferrari's weekend hero, he was just your little brother and you’d give him that safe space as long as he needed. 

You weren’t sure how long had passed just sitting on the couch but the hubbub and buzz of noise outside seemed to have increased even though it was muffled by the thin walls of the driver’s room. Ollie had since shifted to half-lie on the couch and you could see he’d fallen asleep, dozing before he needed to get in the car and focus for qualifying. You knew it was your brother’s way of getting the track ingrained in his head, so you wouldn’t disturb him yet.  A knock pulled you from your reverie and you were quick to head to the door so they wouldn’t knock again and wake Ollie up. You opened the door a crack and poked your head out, “Yes? Oh-” You blinked up and saw two green eyes staring back at yours, “Hi? I thought Ollie would be in here?” You heard your brother groan on the couch behind you clearly disturbed by the talking and so you quickly exited the room, making sure to quietly close the door behind you. “He is! He’s just taking a nap!” You explained with what you hoped was a friendly and not-too-creepy smile. Charles nodded in understanding, “I bet it’s been a pretty intense weekend.” You gave a small laugh, nodding, “Yeah it has been for all of us!” Charles found himself getting a little flustered at your smile. When he’d knocked the door he hadn’t expected the pretty girl he’d seen earlier to answer. It had taken him a few seconds to psych himself up to even ask you if he could pass earlier and now here he was face-to-face with you in his teammate’s room doorway. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this chance but he would not let it go to waste! 

“How are you finding it so far?” His heart skipped a beat as your face lit up, “It’s incredible! Definitely a step up from F2.” Ah so you’d been supporting Ollie for a long time. A best friend? Maybe a girlfriend? High school sweethearts? “So not your first time at a race then?” Charles asked curiously, “Definitely not! I don’t think I’ve ever missed one of Ol’s races since he got into F2.” Charles groaned internally, clearly you were off limits, but did his best to look interested. You gave a giggle at the impressed face Charles made, “That’s certainly dedication!” You nodded, “Of course!” “It’s good you get to be here for his first F1 weekend then. You seem like a very important person to him…” Charles gave a subtle dig for information and you were none the wiser to his motives, “Well he’s my little brother so of course I would be!” Charles froze, Ollie was your what? You were his sister? Charles wasn’t sure if that thought made him more nervous or more relieved. “You’re Ollie’s sister?” He asked incredulously, “Yes…” You replied hesitantly, unsure why his reaction was so serious. Charles felt himself exhaling in relief before he looked at your face, an eyebrow raised and your arms crossed, “Is that so unbelievable? I mean I know we don't look as alike as other siblings but...” He shook his head, 

“No, no!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and looked away, not wanting to see your reaction to his next statement, “I just uhhh, I thought you might have been a girlfriend or something…” You couldn’t help the way the laughter tipped out of you, “Ew! No way!” You held a hand out to Charles, “Hi, I’m Y/N Bearman.” You emphasised your surname and Charles felt a grin stretching across his face that matched your own, “Charles.” You sighed internally at the sight of his dimples popping out and resisted the urge to poke them. “I actually noticed you earlier and I thought you were far too pretty to be any regular garage guest.” You giggled at his bold flirting, “Well I’m glad that you noticed me back then… There was no way someone as good looking as you can walk around without grabbing attention… Especially in the red suit…” With a wink, Charles found himself speechless, not something that was a common occurrence, especially when it came to flirting and talking to women, but he loved it.  “So now we’ve cleared up that little mishap, could I maybe get your num–”

The door to the room behind you opening caught your attention and both you and Charles watched as Ollie appeared, stretching and inhaling deeply, “Oh there you are.” Charles felt his stomach flip with anxiety, hoping Ollie hadn’t heard him flirting with you. That would not look good for him or help his teammate's mental state. But damn, if he wasn’t more than a little disappointed… You seemed to have recovered quite well though, brushing off the previous conversation easily, “Good morning sunshine, sleep well?” “Mhmm,” Ollie leaned against you and nodded, “I needed that.” “We all need a pre-race nap sometimes,” Hearing Charles' voice caused Ollie to wake up fully, standing upright as he acknowledged the older driver. 

“You’ll be fine mate.” Charles placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder and squeezed, “I actually came to find you, thought I could talk you through how to handle some of the corners with the steering?” Ollie gave him a look of appreciation and together they headed back towards the garage. You felt yourself melt that Charles was doing his best to help your little brother and you watched with a dopey grin on your face as the two of them made their way down the hallway, “I’m gonna go find dad!” Ollie waved at you to signal he’d heard you before he was gone. 

You took a moment, going back into the room and closing the door behind you. Holy shit you’d just had an entire conversation with Charles Leclerc, he had called you pretty and was he about to ask for your number? You huffed and rolled your eyes. Your brother had the shittiest timing sometimes. 

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

With big red headphones on, you anxiously watched the screen. Your hands were clasped in front of you and you nervously brought them up to your face, almost not wanting to watch just in case anything went wrong. You got nervous watching Ollie every time he raced, but this weekend the stakes were higher and your nerves were more frazzled. Q1 had gone well but now the pressure was on. Pace was being set and each car seemed to be lapping faster and faster. You turned to look at your Dad who didn’t look any better than you. You reached across and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He smiled at you before you both turned your attention back to the big screens at the back of the garage. As your brother set out on his flying lap you found yourself yelling encouragement along with the mechanics and engineers in the garage, despite the fact he couldn’t hear you. “Come on Ollie!” You looked at the times up on the board already and willed your brother to get even a tenth of a second off their times. 

You couldn’t have cared less about his time though as long as he made it back safely. You watched your brother’s car fly across the finish line and you waited with bated breath for the confirmation of his time to come through. You felt your dad’s hand squeeze yours before you were both cursing under your breath, 0.036 seconds. That’s all there was in it. You felt your Dad wrap you up in a hug, exhaling in relief that your brother had made it through qualifying safely. 

You knew he’d be beating himself up when he came back to the garage and you took the bright Ferrari red headphones off your head, “Dad, I’m gonna go and wait for him,” Your dad nodded, already in conversation with some of the Ferrari engineers about how they could make race day easier for Ollie. You headed to his room, wanting to be there when he got back and you’d barely taken a seat before the door swung open and in came a slightly tense looking Ollie. “I know you’re going to tell me I did a good job and I appreciate that but I’m almost more frustrated that it was so close.” He sighed and you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly as he took a seat next to you, “I’m proud of you Ols.” He smiled gratefully as the door was pushed open an inch, “Uh… hello?” “Charles?” You were confused as the Monegasque man’s head poked round the door and he nodded at Ollie, “Solid drive mate!” Ollie grumbled next to you and you whacked his thigh, “Ow!” He huffed at you, and you glared at him as you tilted your head in Charles direction, “Sorry, thank you Charles.” Charles gave a laugh, “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us.” Another knock sounded through the room and one of Ollie’s engineers called for him to go and discuss some seat adjustments for the race. You stood up as he went to leave, “Hey! If you think I’m not giving you a bear hug after all that, you’re very much mistaken.” Ollie laughed and turned back round, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you wrapped yours around his waist, squeezing slightly and hoping he could feel just how proud you were, “Love you stinky.” “Love you too dummy” He pulled away and left the room, closing the door behind him, 

“Bear hug?” You looked at Charles who stood there with a slight smile across his face and a raised eyebrow, “Mhmm! They’re very special and you actually can’t give them without the necessary qualifications.” “Ah.” Charles said seriously, “And what qualifications are those?” You giggled, “The Bearman surname!” Charles felt a laugh rumble up from deep in his chest at your giggle. God you were spellbinding. “Your brother did an amazing job today.” You smiled in appreciation, speaking genuinely,

“Thank you.” “What are you up to this evening then?” “Oh uhhh… well I’ve been watching a new series recently so probably just watching a couple of episodes and maybe ordering room service…” You facepalmed internally at how boring you were making yourself sound to an F1 driver, “Sorry that probably sounds kinda sad huh?” Charles shook his head and waved his hands to emphasise himself, “No, no! It actually sounds… pretty nice…” For the briefest moment you considered how to reply before your mouth was opening and you couldn’t stop yourself, “You’re welcome to join me if you want?” you froze. Oh fuck. Had you just invited Charles Leclerc to binge watch Netflix with you and eat off the room service menu while you wore sweatpants and a crusty old t-shirt? “You don’t have to-” “I would love to-” “Oh.” You nervously giggled at each other before your eyes dropped to the floor, too shy to keep looking at him. “I would love to join you… if that’s okay?” You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course!” “Give me your number and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?" He held his phone out to you and you nodded, typing your number in and handing it back to him, “Great! You guys are staying at the same hotel as us tonight right?” You made a noise of confirmation, “Mhmm, they moved us for the weekend. I-I’m in room 604” You could have sworn Charles blushed as you said your room number. 

You were so flustered that it appeared your brain wasn’t working correctly, your tongue getting tied as you tried to continue the conversation, “Uh, you don’t need to bring anything, clothing is optional.” “Excuse me?!” Charles froze as he stared at you. Did you just tell him that clothing was optional? He didn’t think you were that bold, or that you had an angle. His mind drifted to the thought of you opening the door naked for the quickest second before you realised you mistake and pulled him out of his thoughts, “Fuck no! I meant comfy clothing is optional! Like you can wear whatever, like sweatpants or even pyjamas if you wanted to, or-or-or if you really wanted you uhhh you could wear no clothes I guess but- wait no this isn’t me trying to get you naked I promise!” You finished your ramble panicking just as a loud laugh burst out of Charles. Your head dropped into your hands and you whined in embarrassment as Charles' hands found his knees, unable to stand up straight at how hard he was laughing. “Fuck you’re cute.” You inhaled sharply, eyes shooting down to the floor and biting your lip softly through a smile, “Oh?” “Mhmm” You felt your cheeks heat up as it sunk in that he’d called you cute, after you’d embarrassed yourself no less! “Anyway…” Charles attempted to move the conversation forward, desperate to make you gasp again like you had a moment ago, “I’ll be there later,” He moved towards the door, leaning in as he did so “I hope clothing is optional for you too.” And with a brush of his shoulder against yours he was gone. Noise from the hallway and nearby garages poured in through the open door and you didn’t move until Ollie came back, “What happened to you?” “N-nothing! Just talked with Charles a bit.” Ollie wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed giving him a shove, “Come on, I’m done so we’re gonna go back to the hotel! I need sleep.”

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You rushed around your hotel room, ensuring any stray socks or underwear were tucked away in your case and any possible embarrassing items were safely hidden out of sight. Thankfully you'd found a slightly less crusty and slightly less old t-shirt in your suitcase and you'd thrown that on over over some shorts that were a considerably more socially acceptable choice than your tattered travel sweatpants.

Your eyes swept around the room and gave one final check. Charles had texted five minutes ago to say that he was on his way up and so you knew there would be a knock at the door any second. Grabbing some extra pillows from the closet, you placed them on the bed and pulled up Netflix just in time for the door to sound. “Coming!” You raced over to the door before stopping, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, checking your appearance one last time in the mirror. You opened the door, “Do you have a spare toothbrush?” “Ollie?!” “Yes…? It’s me? Your brother?” Ollie looked at you suspiciously as you stuck your head out of the door and looked up and down the corridor, “Are you expecting someone?” You choked on air, “Me?! Expecting someone? Pfft, no!” Though you had been thanking those higher powers earlier in the day, you now cursed them out as at the end of the corridor the elevator dinged, both yours and Ollie’s heads snapped to look as the doors opened and there stood Charles. Ollie looked at you and gave a laugh, “Not expecting anyone, hmm?” Your eyes widened. “He’s not here for me!” Ollie crossed his arms and looked at you expectantly, “Oh no?” You felt your heart race as Charles came down the corridor. You sighed and looked at Ollie, trying to sense how he felt about it, “If it makes you mad or upset or uncomfortable then no, he's not here for me.” 

Charles approached the two of you and slowed his pace, sensing a conversation was happening that he didn’t need to hear, but still he couldn’t deny that he was curious. It was obvious you were talking about him. Ollie’s arms dropped to grab your shoulders, “Y/N, you’ve already given up an insane amount for me to be able to pursue this… Why would I ever be mad about you wanting a fun date night?” You pursed your lips, “It’s not a date.” Ollie’s facial expression dead panned, “Yuh huh, okay, and I’m gonna win the race tomorrow.” You flicked his forehead and heard Charles stifle a laugh to the side. “Just wait here, I’ll get you the toothbrush.” You grumbled going back into the hotel room. Charles coughed nervously as he stood in front of Ollie. Though he was younger than Charles, he was taller and Charles found the way he was staring at him ever so slightly intimidating. “Don’t keep her up late, don’t do anything to upset her and if you make her cry I’ll turn you into the wall tomorrow.” Ollie glared at him and Charles chuckled nervously, “Noted. I would never want to make her cry,” Ollie watched as Charles stared after you with a dopey smile, “I do wanna make her smile though, her smile is pretty.” Ollie coughed a laugh into his hand, Charles was seemingly already down bad and he knew you were too. “Can I ask a question?” Ollie nodded, “Shoot.” “What did you mean by she’s given up a lot for you?” Ollie sighed, shuffling his feet almost uncomfortably. “Dad couldn’t travel with me because of work, Mum couldn’t leave our other siblings at home because they were too young so it was Y/N that moved around with me and travelled with me.” Charles nodded, encouraging Ollie to continue, “She didn’t go on dates or go out clubbing with friends or get a boyfriend because she left it all behind for me. She even decided to not go to uni... She says she doesn’t mind but…” He trailed off, “You still feel bad?” Charles finished for him. Ollie shrugged, “Wouldn’t you? She says she got to travel more than anyone else her age and got to experience tons of stuff while seeing the world so I guess to her it doesn’t matter as much.” Charles hummed, starting to understand just how close you and Ollie were. “You know when Arthur got sick last year it was Y/N that took care of him and drove him to the hospital?” Charles head whipped up to look at Ollie, “That was Y/N?” “Yep. She drove him to the hospital and stayed with him all night, then brought him back home the next day. She made him soup and helped him take all his medicine on time and stuff.” Charles found his heart growing even warmer. He’d remembered how panicked both he and his mother had been when they learned the youngest Leclerc was extremely unwell, until his mother had received a call to say someone was looking after him - now he knew it was you! Ollie smiled to himself, glad that in some roundabout way he was now able to do something for you. It was clear you and Charles were already both smitten with each other. “Got it!” You reappeared at the door and flourished the toothbrush under his nose. “Thank you!” “Mhmm! What were you guys talking about?” “Race strategies-” “The room service menu-” Your eyes narrowed slightly as they gave different answers at the same time and you looked between them, “O…kay…? Cool… Well, you need to relax.” You gave Ollie a look and he saluted, turning round and heading back to his room a few doors down, “Yes coach!” You shook your head before turning to Charles and opening the door wider, “You coming in?”

He smiled and made his way into your room, noting how you’d added a few little touches here and there to make it feel like home even though you were thousands of miles away, “Cute pictures,” Charles wandered over to the vanity where you had put up some small pictures of your family and friends at home, pictures of you and Ollie at various tourist spots round the world and a few family pets. “It makes the distance a little less… distance-y.” “I get it.” “Soooo uhhh…” You stood in the middle of the room and nervously kicked your foot into the floor, “I see we both decided to wear clothes.” Charles smirked and you couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out, “Indeed we did.” “I can’t pretend I’m not slightly disappointed…” He gave you his best attempt at a wink and you hid a smile behind your hand, “I’m still working on it…” He huffed. As he stood there pouting you took in the sight of him in front of you. Dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a white sweatshirt he looked like the epitome of cosy soft boyfriend vibes. “Are you hungry?” Charles took the lead and you were internally thankful for that. “Kind of? We could have a look and see what takes our fancy? Although I’m pretty sure that the majority of the items listed are not approved by your PT…” Charles waved you off, “We all break our diets more regularly than you’d except.” “Tell me about it… I keep having to remind Ollie that chicken nuggets are not nutritious and healthy all the time.” Charles tipped his head back and let out a laugh and you found yourself unable to stop giggling along with him. The laughter eased the remaining tension and you settled onto the bed, patting the spot next to you to encourage him to sit. 

The two of you sat on the bed, perusing the menu and selecting what you wanted before he called down to order it. While you waited you talked about anything and everything. The race tomorrow, how warm it was in Jeddah, your favourite places you’d travelled to, musicians you listened to regularly. You found yourself falling into conversation with him so easily, it was difficult to remember that you’d only known each other for a few hours. When the food arrived Charles was firm in getting you to stay sat down while he answered the door, determined to treat you like a princess.

“Charles, I can walk to the door!” You giggled, “Non! You will wait here and I will go.” He bowed before he walked to the door and you rolled your eyes, a smile plastered across your face. “Here you are, madame, your food.” “Why thank you kind sir.” Taking the plate from him you fluffed up the pillow behind you, clicking on your laptop to reload Netflix. “What do you feel like watching? Drive to Survive?” You asked, doing your best to hold in your laughter when Charles’ head shot up, looking ever so slightly traumatised, “Absolutely not!” You fell into laughter as he climbed onto the bed next to you, “How about a Studio Ghibli movie?” he nodded, taking a bite of his food, “The music is beautiful! I think you’d really like it!” “Let’s do it!” You nodded, clicking on Howl’s Moving Castle and loading it up. 

The two of you watched the movie in silence for a while and you watched as Charles’ fingers tapped along in time with the rhythm of the music. You felt yourself getting swept up in the story, not even noticing Charles’ eyes on you. “I love this part!” You sat up a little and Charles followed suit, subtly moving his arm to rest behind you. You glanced around to see his hand almost over your shoulder and you felt your cheeks heat up quickly. “S-sorry!” He went to move, “N-no, it’s okay…” You looked at him and moved a little closer until your thigh was touching his and his arm was fully around you. Charles smiled down at you as you settled back down and got comfy. God he could get used to this… He daydreamed for a second about getting to do this with you after every race weekend. For the rest of the film, you stayed firmly in Charles embrace, even daring to place one of your hands in his as the characters on screen also held hands. Soft smiles and shy glances were all you exchanged occasionally. You did your absolute best to fight the wave of sleepiness threatening to overtake you but with the heat from Charles’ body and the cosy bed and the soft music of the film, you couldn’t help the way your eyes slipped shut. Your head dropped to rest between his shoulder and chest as the credits rolled and Charles looked down as best he could to see you asleep. He smiled to himself, refusing to move even when his shoulder started to cramp up. He looked at the clock on the wall across the room and realised he had better sleep. After all, he still had a race to drive. He slowly shuffled, careful to support your head as he laid you down on the pillow. You sighed in your sleep and shuffled closer to him, seeking out the warmth he provided. Charles found himself facing an internal battle. Did he stay and risk you feeling uncomfortable and offended or leave and risk you feeling upset he didn’t stay? As he debated the correct answer, you made the decision for him. Half-awake you tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. “Don’t go… warm…” You whined and he completely melted, sliding onto the bed next to you and lying on his back. You felt his heart race as you cuddled into his side and rested your head on his chest. Charles gently ran his hand up and down your arm soothingly as you dozed on his chest. “Hey Y/N?” He said lowly, “Mhmm?” You blinked sleepily, “Would it be okay if I kissed your forehead amour?” You nodded, “More than okay,” With a contented sigh, you relaxed once more, Charles leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. There was a pause before he leant down to kiss your forehead again, only to find his lips against yours. The two of you pulled apart quickly, you were now wide awake and sat up next to him while he led there in shock, eyes wide. If you weren’t so surprised, you probably would have laughed at the way Charles lips almost seemed stuck in a pout before he raced to sit up and apologise, “Fuck I’m so sorry!” He cried, “You’re sorry? I’m sorry!” Your eyes mirrored his, “I shouldn’t have just leaned down to kiss you again.” “It’s okay Charles really… I…” You went quiet for a moment and he gently reached for your hand, “What is it?” You bit your lip, not daring to look at him. “I-I…” “Take your time amour.” He smiled at you encouragingly as his thumb gently rubbed over the back of your hand, “I kind of liked it…” You whispered, eyes squeezing shut, “Only kind of?” He asked, genuinely, not wanting to scare you. “C-can we try again?” You opened your eyes and felt him gently tilt your chin to look up at him, “You want to try again?” You nodded and Charles shook his head, “Non mon ange, I need to hear you say it. I’m not going to kiss you without you telling me it’s okay-” “Please. Charles. I want you to kiss me… I just might not be very good at it, you see I haven’t really had much practice so please forgive me if its bad…”

Any remaining words died on your tongue as Charles cupped your face with the hand that had been holding your chin and his other arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you a little closer to him. “Just follow my lead ma belle.” Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath swept across your lips. You expected to feel his lips against yours but you were pleasantly surprised at the feeling of his lips kissing your forehead once more. Your eyes stayed shut as he pressed a soft kiss to one cheek, then the other. A quick peck to the nose left your giggling, before he placed a kiss to your jawline that left you breathless, “Please… Charles…” His lips were almost on yours again and you felt them brush yours slightly as he spoke, “Please what mon ange?” “Kiss me.” Any little part of you that had been frustrated by his teasing only moments ago was certainly glad of it now. It made the moment his lips touched yours all that much sweeter. Any nerves melted away as he held you gently.

There was no heavy panting or biting, no licking or sucking. Just his lips caressing yours. Your head spun as he finally pulled away to let you take a breath just for a moment. You chased his lips, not quite ready to let him go yet and he let out a contented hum at the way you pressed your lips to him once more. He swore he fell even harder when you smiled into the kiss. You gasped when he pulled you into his lap and the kiss fell apart as you both dissolved into giggles. Your tummy flipped in the most delightful way as his nose gently rubbed against yours, “Was that okay?” Your hands linked around the back of his head and found the short hair there, gently threading your fingers through and twisting it round. You leaned down to whisper, “My turn…” His eyes closed, blissfully as you traced your own kisses across his face, in awe of the way his long lashes sat on his cheeks. You placed a small kiss on top of the freckle on his cheek and giggled at the way his stubble tickled your nose and lips, he opened his eyes and watched your wiggling your nose, “Tickles.” He placed his hands on your hips and softly rubbed his thumbs just under your shirt. You smiled down at him and nodded, “Words ma belle.” “Yes Charles, you can.” He smiled up at you and pouted to ask for a kiss, “Merci ma belle.” He slid his hands under your shirt to gently hold your hips and feel the soft skin there. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the closeness and the comfort he was providing. “I’m so glad I asked you to come over.” A kiss to your forehead was your answer, “Me too…”

Neither of you moved for a few minutes, just feeling each other breathe. Feeling how your heart rates slowed after racing from the excitement of kissing. You hadn’t even noticed yourself getting sleepy again but Charles had. “Ma belle, I need to go…” You nodded but didn’t move, Charles chuckled, “Ma belle?” “Do you have to?” Charles cooed at how sleepy you sounded, “If I stay here I won’t sleep, I’ll just want to kiss you and hold you all night and I have a race tomorrow.” You conceded and lifted your head but remained in his lap, “That was actually my plan.” Charles head tilted, “Distract the competition so Ollie can sneak through.” Charles head dropped to your collarbone with a laugh, “So sneaky mon ange…” You nodded, climbing off of his lap and taking a seat next to him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stood up but found himself unable to help leaning back down to kiss you just once… twice… three times more. You pushed his chest and smiled, “Go Charles! I’ll see you in the morning.” He let himself out of your room and as soon as the door had closed you were squealing into your pillow, giddy with excitement and stomach full of butterflies.

And if Charles did the same thing when he got back to his room? Well that was his business.

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“Good morning!” “You are far too happy this morning. What happened with Charles? Did you kiiiiiiiiss him?” You glared at Ollie who stood in the door of your hotel room making kissy faces at you. “Whatever happened between me and Charles is between us.” You grabbed your bag and headed towards the elevator at the end of the hallway, Ollie easily falling into step beside you, “So something did happen?” “Maybe! I don’t see how it’s any of your business anyway.” Your brother knocked his shoulder into yours, turning serious, “It’s not. It’s just nice to see you so happy.” You stood in front of the elevator doors and turned to Ollie, “Thanks Ols.” “But also I need to know if I need to crash him into the wall today.” “hUH?!”  

When you reached the Ferrari garage, you were excited to support your brother but also excited to see Charles again. You spotted him not long after entering the garage, his back was to you but even seeing the back of his head was enough to send you into a smile that alerted everyone in the near vicinity that you had it bad for the man wearing number 16. One of the mechanics stood with him greeted Ollie and Charles turned round, face breaking into an identical grin at the sight of you in a Ferrari red dress. Your Dad elbowed you, “Is there something going on I need to know about? Spill the tea bestie” He wiggled his eyebrows and you snorted, leaning into him and bumping your head against his shoulder affectionately, “There’s no tea to spill dad, and Ollie, stop teaching Dad phrases you think he needs to know!” Your Dad and Ollie laughed as you made your way over to Charles, “Hi.” “Hi. You look beautiful.” Charles found himself breathless as he took in your full appearance. “Did you get any sleep?” A goofy grin crept across his face, “Filled with dreams of you ma belle, I slept wonderfully. And you?” You nodded, “Something similar I guess…” “You guess?” “Mhmm…” You gasped as you felt his hand slowly grab yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, “Charles! What if someone sees?” “I don’t mind people seeing me holding hands with the prettiest girl at the race today.” You gently tapped his chest and shook your head, “You’re so silly.” You looked across the garage as you heard Ollie’s laugh and Charles’ face turned serious, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze to get your attention, “I actually wanted to say that I totally understand that you’re here for Ollie today. It’s lovely to see you but I’m not going to take you away from supporting your brother when he needs you.” You gave his hand a squeeze back in appreciation, “Thank you Charles. We’ll catch up later though! Good luck, race safe!” 

Charles felt his cheek turning as red as his car as you placed a gentle kiss to his cheek before darting across the garage with a giggle. He stared after you with a dumb lovestruck look on his face, one hand coming up to hold his cheek, “Oh my friend, you have it bad, no?” Charles whirled round to see Carlos and some of the engineers staring at him, amused looks on their faces. “I wish they hadn’t let you leave the hospital today.” Carlos laughed, wincing slightly as he did so, “And miss our little Charles in love? No way! This is more entertaining than the race will be.” 

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You stood with Ollie in the garage as he waited until the last second to get in the car. “You ready?” He inhaled, “I guess we’ll find out huh? It’s now or never…” You smiled at him, handing him his helmet. You had your pre-race routine with Ollie that consisted of making sure he had one last sip of water, helping him put his helmet on before kissing where his forehead would be inside the helmet and finally a bear hug. You’d done it before every race since he was in his karting days and his debut F1 race would be no different. Charles caught sight of this and smiled. It was good that the young driver had such a great support system. In a slightly weird way he was almost envious that he didn't have someone to do those things for him. He watched as you held Ollie's bottle up to his lips before placing it to the side, buckling his helmet up once it was on his head. Charles' heart grew warm as he watched Ollie bend down so you could reach to kiss his forehead. You and Ollie were unaware of your audience, just completely in your own little bubble. "Can't believe I have to bend for you to reach my forehead now." It was a throwaway comment from Ollie but it left you with tears welling up in your eyes. Oh how he'd grown. When this ritual first started he was just a kid. Far shorter than you, almost looking too small for his kart. He had been so young but his dreams were big. You felt your bottom lip quiver as you watched your brother's dreams become reality in front of your eyes. You knew he felt guilty that you'd given so much up. "Bear hug?" You asked, holding your arms out. Ollie wrapped you up in the tightest hug he could manage, "Thank you." He didn't need to say what for. You knew. "If I had to, I'd do it all over again." He squeezed you just a little more before he was pulling away and climbing into that red car that he'd long dreamed of. You felt your dad come alongside you and pull you into his side, the two of you both misty-eyed with tearful smiles.

Watching his car leave the garage for the grid you couldn't help the way you looked around for Charles. You caught sight of him and approached him, "Are you alright ma belle?" You wiped your eyes hastily, "Yeah, just a little overwhelmed?" Charles gave an understanding nod, "It makes perfect sense mon ange." You cleared your throat, "But I have another pre-race ritual to complete." Charles eyes shot to yours, "unless you already have one and then I won't interfere-" "Please." You gave him a soft smile and took his helmet from him to allow him to do up his suit properly, "What do you still need to do?" Charles looked almost shy as he gave his request, "Could you help me put my helmet on?" Your cheeks felt warm as you nodded, gently tugging on his helmet to pull it down when he grabbed your wrists, "Wait." "What?" Your eyes searched his, worried you'd somehow hurt him or done it wrong, his face broke into a grin, "Can I get a kiss before my helmet goes on?" You looked around the garage, everyone busy with their own jobs and not really paying you much attention. "Are you sure?" Charles nodded. You looked for a small space of skin not covered by his balaclava and pressed a light kiss to his cheek just under his eye. His eyes shut as if he was savouring the moment before he nodded at you to pull his helmet down. He watched your face contort into an expression of concentration as you buckled his helmet up with so much precision and care. "What comes next?" "Help me with my gloves?" His voice was muffled through the helmet, you nodded and took his gloves from him. Helping him put one on and squeezing that hand before switching to the other one. "Can I suggest one last thing?" He nodded, "I think you should have a bear hug." You couldn't see his smile through his helmet but the way he enthusiastically pulled you into his arms told you all you needed to know. You stood there for a moment just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest and sighed. His hand gently caressed up and down your back before he was being called to climb into his car. You squeezed him one last time for good measure before he was gone and off to line up for the start of the race.

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Your throat was sore from all the yelling and screaming you'd done at the screen, your legs were about to give out from the adrenaline rush and your cheeks hurt from the smiling you'd done. You had tears in your eyes again as you watched your brother cross the line in 7th for his first ever F1 grand prix. Turning to hug your dad you nodded at Carlos who sat across the garage. He gave you a warm smile and a knowing wink as the garage began rushing to the podium for Charles. You were bouncing on your feet as you waited to see Ollie, Charles, either of them, both of them?

The pitlane was packed as fans, teams and reporters all swarmed down to the podium. And there, pushing his way through all of it, was Ollie. You couldn't help the scream that left your throat as you sprinted to him. Pulling him into a huge hug. "Oh my god bear." You practically sobbed, "I'm so fucking proud of you!" Ollie slid his helmet off and his face was lit up, "Oh my god that was amazing! Intense, but amazing!" You giggled as he moved his neck experimentally before wincing, "Yeah I'm gonna need a physio appointment like... as soon as possible." You let out a laugh, "Dad was already on it by about lap four don't worry!" "Thank fuck." Your brother exhaled, eyes widening dramatically. You observed the way the podium was getting increasingly busy. "Go." Ollie looked at you, "You know you want toooo..." He sang, "But..." "No buts, butts are for sitting." Ollie, closed his eyes as if he would hear no further arguments. He leant in close, "I think it would mean a lot to him too." "Ollie I can't just g-" "Excuse me, Carlos?" Ollie called to the older driver, "You're going the the podium aren't you?" Carlos motioned that he was, "Are you going to?" You looked at Ollie and he gave an encouraging nod, "Go!" You looked at Carlos, "Lead the way."

It was packed. You wondered if Carlos should really be making his way through the crowd given his condition, but they almost seemed to part for him. It certainly made things easier for you so you couldn’t complain. You stood next to Carlos right in front of the barrier underneath the podium. You were just in time. The announcer spoke Charles' name and he walked out onto the podium, he had a huge grin that stretched from cheek to cheek. He stood there for a moment before looking down at his team Charles felt his heart stop. There was no way. Was there? You were stood celebrating his podium? Charles had never wanted a podium ceremony to be over quicker in his life. He was dying to get back down there and hold you in his arms again, maybe even kiss you if he was lucky. As he was handed his trophy he looked down once more, pointing at you. To the cameras it would look like he was pointing at his mechanics, or even Carlos. But you knew. Even though he was fairly far away from you he could still see how your eyes shone up at him. The way they sparkled not just under the floodlights of the track but from the way you were just looking at him. You weren’t aware of anything around you. Not Carlos smirking at the way you and Charles watched each other, not the music, not the champagne, nor the fireworks that now exploded in the sky above Jeddah rivalling the fireworks that were going off in your tummy at the way Charles gazed at you with so much adoration. 

As soon as he could, Charles was racing off the podium and Carlos led you back to the Ferrari garage where he would soon appear. You waited, almost pacing back and forth. Ollie watched you knowingly, “You really like him huh?” You froze, “Is it that obvious?!” Ollie scoffed, “Uh? Yes!” You rolled your eyes before Carlos called your name, “Y/N you can wait in his room if you want? It’s opposite Ollie’s.” You nodded and wound your way through the now familiar corridors of Ferrari’s garage. You made it to Charles' room and settled down on the couch. Now to wait. 

You didn’t have to wait long before the door was bursting open and a champagne drenched Charles was striding across the room, placing his trophy down on the couch before sweeping you into his arms, nose tracing up your neck, “Ma belle…” “Charles! That tickles!” Charles laughed and your legs went weak as you felt his chest rumble against you. “Wanted to do this as soon as I got out of the car.” He mumbled. You gently held his face in your hands and brought his face up to look at you, “Congratulations handsome.” Charles smiled, leaning in before catching himself and stopping with a groan, “Can I kiss you? Please say yes ma belle… Please fuck… I need to kiss you, it’s all I've wanted to do since the race ended, need to kiss you, please?” “Yes, Charles.” “Thank you amour.” His lips met yours and you sighed as you tasted the sweet champagne from his lips. He was sticky and sweaty but he was so Charles. You hummed happily before he gently bit your lip, eliciting a whine from you. He growled a little at the sound before pulling away, “We need to stop ma belle.” “Awww…” You pouted and he laughed, poking the lip that was jutting out. “I’m not going to do this with you in my driver’s room of all places, especially when I’m sweaty and covered in champagne.” “I don’t know…” Your arms circled his neck as you leaned into him, “I think it’s a good look.” His hands found your hips and he couldn’t help the way his thumbs traced tiny circles.

“You know… I think you should come to F1 races more often…” “Oh?” “Mhmm” Charles looked at you, “I think your ritual got me my podium today.” You stared at him for a second before laughing, “You think so?” He pressed a final kiss to your lips and nodded, “Absolutely!” “Then I think I need to come and stand in the Ferrari garage more often.” Charles pulled you into a hug, “That sounds perfect.” 

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y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, scuderiaferrari and 23,196 others y/nbearman little weekend photodump ft. very on brand red outfits, the nicest hospitality and garage I've ever stood in, Ollie's first F1 race and post-race dinner and Dad's first TV interview for sky sports

View all 4,157 comments olliebearman Think that was definitely Dad's favourite part of the weekend ⤷ y/nbearman Papa bear for commentator 2025? Comment liked by skysportsf1 and olliebearman ⤷ olliebearman ICON

bearmanfan they have the cutest sibling relationship I swear 🥺 lalaleclerc PLS TELL ME Y'ALL ALSO SAW CHARLES LOOKING AT HER IN THE GARAGE ⤷ charleswifey omg yesssss 😭 he really thought no one was looking but there was a whole ass camera on him ⤷ y/nbearman wHAT? ⤷ lalaleclerc oops 🥹

charles_leclerc can't wait to have you in the garage again ma belle Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ y/nbearman looking forward to it handsome ⤷ f1f1fan wait. WHAT? ⤷ bearmanfam Y/N AND CHARLES?!

scuderiaferrari We're so glad you had a good weekend! Ollie is our new fave 🫶🏼 ⤷ charles_leclerc ouch ⤷ carlossainz55 I've been gone less than one weekend 🧍‍♂️ ⤷ y/nbearman you're so real for this admin I approve ⤷ scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️

charlesandcarlos I had no clue who this girl was until they said on the commentary that she was Ollie's sister, damn they have good genes ⤷ y/nfanpage isn't she the prettiest!! ⤷ olllie charles has good taste Comment liked by charles_leclerc ⤷ charlessss does anyone know what she does for a living? ⤷ bearmanfam it's actually so sweet 🥺 she gave up on going to uni and following her own career path for a while to travel with Ollie and support him in F2! she's basically his PA, manager, photographer, nutritionist, therapist, best friend and sister rolled into one ⤷ charlessss holy shit 🧍‍♀️ we STAN her

bearmanhug is it just me that thought we'd get a really mushy post from y/n like when Ollie finished the F2 season last year? ⤷ ferrarifan no same here ⤷ y/nbearman oh it's incoming don't worry 🤭 ⤷ ferrawri OH FUCK WE AREN'T READY

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀ ❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･❀

y/nbearman

Liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc and 21,874 others y/nbearman to say that I'm proud of you is an understatement. you make me proud every day no matter whether you win or lose not just on the track but off too. but this weekend I'm in absolute awe of you. the results you've achieved just show the hard work and dedication you've put into this sport. I know your passion to succeed and improve will take you far! this is just the beginning of amazing things to come. forever proud of you and I've always got your back. I love you to the end of the line baby bear ❤️❤️❤️ tagged: @.olliebearman

View all 3,562 comments olliebearman love you too sun bear Comment liked by y/nbearman

bearmanfam OH MY GOD THERE'S SO MUCH TO UNPACK 😭 ⤷ bearmanfam ollie once said in an interview that his sister always makes him smile and lights up his day and that's why he calls her sun bear! she calls him baby bear because he's younger than her ⤷ charlesandcarlos I'm pretty sure she used red hearts bc he drove for Ferrari this week 🥹 Comment liked by y/nbearman ⤷ bearmanfam omg YES ❤️ ⤷ charlesandcarlos CONFIRMED ❤️

charles_leclerc superb driving today! you should absolutely be proud. keep driving like that and it won't be long until we'll be sharing the track every week @.olliebearman Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman ⤷ carlossainz55 no doubt about it!

lewishamilton amazing job today kid 💜 leclerclove The way the old photos are in black and white and the photos from the weekend are in colour like it's a new era 😭 ⤷ smoothoperatorrr omg I didn't think of that 😭😭 ⤷ charleswifeyyyy The childhood pictures are so fucking cute too 😭

landonorris great results today! can't wait to see what you do in the future! ferrariiiii "I love you to the end of the line" AS IN THE FINISH LINE?! ⤷ f1fan STOP OH MY GOD 😭😭😭 carlossssainzzz I'm not ashamed to say that I sobbed like a baby reading this post 🥹 like it's so clear that they love and support one another ⤷ scuderiaferrari we're crying too! 🥹❤️ Comment liked by y/nbearman and olliebearman

f1fannnn all the drivers commenting their support and congratulations 😭

fanoferrari "this is just the beginning" I-🥹😭 ⤷ olsbearmannn "you make me proud every day"

maxverstappen1 An amazing drive mate!

[ninibeingdelulu]

Calmness ✧

Plot: Ken and you have a real daughter.

A/N: kinda short :(

Soft evening light filtered through the den, casting everything in that warm, nostalgic glow you'd come to associate with pure contentment over these past few blissful years together.

Ken's attention remained transfixed on that vintage baseball game rerun flickering across the flatscreen.

Body settled deep into those overstuffed couch cushions with one leg casually crossed over the other in peak middle-aged dad repose.

But it was the tiny, swaddled bundle cradled against his barrel chest that held your rapt fascination from the archway.

Soaking in every precious detail of their serene tableau with an overflow of maternal adoration swelling in your breast.

At just three months old, your newborn daughter remained utterly oblivious to her surroundings - cherubic features smoothed into perfect repose while bronzed lashes fanned over porcelain cheeks.

One little fist tucked up beneath her chin while the other tiny starfish hand rested atop Ken's broad pec, rising and falling with each of his steady rumbles.

Her doting father absently brushed the pad of his thumb in soothing circles over the minuscule knuckles. Never once taking those transfixed mahogany pools off your slumbering miracle's face as if committing every microscopic shift to eternal memory.

That singular worshipful reverie you'd immediately recognized and fallen hopelessly in love with all over again these past few weeks.

The exact same soul-deep look Ken once bestowed solely upon the orphaned kaiju he'd raised before watching her depart for greener pastures - now magnified tenfold through his unbreakable connection to your shared offspring.

A permanent reminder of the family you created together from that cosmic loneliness.

"She's not at all like Emi was , is she?" You murmured, footsteps barely audible across the plush carpet until dropping onto the open cushion space beside him.

Ken responded with only a low rumbling hum from his broad chest while immediately unfurling that sheltering arm around your shoulders.

Cocooning you into his solid, familiar warmth until your cheek smooshed comfortably against the firmness of his shoulder. Close enough to press a wandering caress across your tiny miracle's silken crown.

"No - she's not. She's ours." A meaningful pause preceded Ken's soft, gravelly rasp ghosting across your hairline. "Our daughter...our real baby that you gave me, sweetheart. One I'll guard with my life the same way I do for you always."

Melting into the tender, possessive squeeze encircling your trim waist, you craned your chin up against his collarbone to receive that lingering brush over your puckered lips.

Ken's soulful gaze locked onto yours - swimming depths of protective ferocity tamed only through utter reverence for the two solitary souls anchoring his universe now.

The unspoken mantra of doing anything to safeguard the loves of his life until extinction itself.

"You've already given me more than enough happiness to last a trillion lifetimes, babe. Thank you," he whispered hoarsely against your skin.

"For being everything I could've dreamed during those cold, empty decades..."

You stifled the tiny sniffle by reclaiming his questing mouth in a searing, needful communion - conveying through satin caresses alone just how desperately you treasured this man and the profound sanctuary of family he'd bestowed upon you.

Your Ultraman, protector, partner, and living legacy of insurmountable love all in one. Cradling you both to his gallant hero's heart for eternity.

[roosterforme]

Vintage | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut

Length: 2700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."

Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."

The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."

Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception. 

"I'm going to miss you, too."

Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning. 

With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."

He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."

You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."

Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."

Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."

Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.

"I love you."

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

Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.

When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...

He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched. 

If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."

When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.

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

"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.

"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"

"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."

"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."

"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."

"Rooster!"

"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."

"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."

"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.

"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"

He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."

"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."

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

After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights. 

He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.

As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.

Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.

My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.

She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.

Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."

"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."

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

After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.

Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.

"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged. 

"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.

"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door. 

"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"

"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."

You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."

He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.

The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.

When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.

"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."

You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.

He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."

"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."

"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."

You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"

"Yep."

"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."

"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.

"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."

He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."

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

He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[pinkslaystation]

Tulips or Roses?

John Price x reader

In which you find John's old diary detailing his love for you his teammate and you begin to question his love for you. Word Count: 3.6k -> blurb - rose meets tulips

Being a civilian to a soldier was hard enough.

And it was even harder when your husband was a commander for one of the most skillful task force. So it wasn't unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time.

So on a random Friday evening, anticipating his arrival in the coming week, vacuuming the floors, cleaning the windows, you found yourself at the door of John's study, with was decorated with a glass name plate, with the words 'Study' accompanied with a painted heart created from blue and pink fingerprints from you and your husband.

John was never the man to tell you off if you entered his study, instead he encouraged it. He's beckoned you to bring him his evening tea to him, to give him a massage, sometimes when you wanted him, he'd allow you to help him under the desk, if you get what I mean. (speaking from experience ;>)

As you stepped into his room, you noticed the ceilings adorned with sizable white cobwebs, cringing at the apparent neglect of his study. When was the last time someone had even been here?

Sweeping his desk, wiping away the dust, you find a box underneath beside his chair, which prompted you to lifting it up and placing on top of the desk. Man, you underestimated it's weight. You struggled to lift a small but heavy moving box, and it caused a few books and papers to fall out.

You cursed at your clumsiness, picking up the loose sheets, until you fingers caught the spine of a red vintage-like book, which had the word 'diary' written on the front. You didn't take too much notice, skimming through the pages until you caught your name being mentioned a phew times.

You giggle, it's a diary probably with John confessing his love to you numerous time! You know you probably shouldn't look through it, I mean privacy exists, but you just can't help it.

So you look through some of the infrequent entries, the oldest dating back to 10 years back, and the most recent one being nearly 4 years, when you and John had first met.

30th February 2010

Suffering in Afghanistan, the lads and I are stuck in the safe house for a week now. Rose is here too, I should ask her if she's okay.

Ahhh you remember this story. When the Task Force was stuck in the city of Kandahar, in the safe house. You also remember John's team, whom you are well-acquainted with, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, Roach, Rose?

You skip through the boring entries, most of which are just John documenting his work-out plan and the places him and his team had visited.

5th July 2016

Gaz's going on and on about his lass. Someone tell him to talk to her at least, he doesn't even know her name! I keep bringing it up but he keeps mentioning when I'll talk to Rose.

You chuckled, assuming the chick was Gaz's current wife. But the last part caught your attention, Rose again? You remember John telling you that she'd retired, went back north to settle with her family now, so you don't think much of it, I mean they are team mates.

19th June 2017

Saw a cute kid and her mama, wishing I had kids, without this lifestyle. Rose wants a son but I don't particularly mind. Soap overheard our conversation and spammed me lols on Whatsapp, but I thought lol meant little old lady? I am a man though.

You raise your eyebrow at another mention of Rose, why doesn't he care if Rose wanted a son? You didn't realise how close your husband was to her.

2nd December 2018

Christmas this month with my boys. Rose invited me over for a smoke. Ghost rolls his eyes when I mentioned it to him, says I need to man up and make a move.

You squinted your eyes, rereading the entry, and hesitantly skipping to the next one.

7th April 2019

Drinks with my men (and Rose haha, she doesn't like being part of the men). It's her birthday and she wants to tell us something. She's got her red lips again. I'm excited, Soap kept nudging me the entire ride, that cheeky bugger.

Then immediately below it, an update: She's seeing someone.

You're slowly piecing the puzzle, though you don't want to assume anything.

21st August 2019

She came into my room crying, seems like it's not going well, good for me. I hope she's okay and she realises there's better fish in the sea. She hugged me, she smells like roses, I love floral scents. I tried leaning in, she says I'm like an older brother to her.

Your heart breaks a bit, sniffing at your freshly washed hair, which smelt like ... like roses.

You thought floral scents were YOUR thing.

You continued, to the next entry which was marked the date you remember meeting John for the first time at the pub. You force a smile, hoping the entry would lighten your mood.

30th November 2020

In the pub and bored. Rose brought her lad... they're back together. What does she see in him? Soap urges me to find someone else but my heart is set on someone, for a long time. Won't change. He keeps gesturing to a girl on the other end of the counter, she's pretty, but like a tulip. Not like a rose. Not like my Rose.

You grip at the notebook and you try your hardest not to rip the papers out of the book and set his entire study on fire.

You remember this day, when you were dragged to the pub by your friends after being dumped by your ex for another girl. You sat at one end of the counter, with tears in your eyes but one look at that buff Englishman on the other end and your mood flipped instantaneously, 180 degrees.

"Kelsey, look at that guy, Mr Army over there." You beckon towards John's direction, to your friend., slightly tipsy after a peg of beer.

Your friend looks at you with a raised eyebrow, then turns to the guy whose piqued your interest, "You should go for it." She encourages you.

So you get yourself 2 drinks and approach the guy, more confident that usual due to your alcoholic state. A beer would do.

"Hi, this seat empty?" You smile at him innocently.

All this time you had recalled a look of fondness towards you, when he'd first locked eyes with you. You remember bragging about how it had been love at first sight for the both of you, but thinking back, a feeling of doubt starts bubbling inside you.

"It's reserve- you know what. Take a seat."

You remember sitting next to him, passing him a drink, and telling him your name, "...and you are?" you question, although you see him wincing. At first you thought it was just an army thing, so guarded that even the slightest of movements would make him twitch.

But now you're questioning whether he really wanted to engage into a conversation with you.

The following hours, as you painfully recall, was filled with you talking about yourself and occasionally asking him after his life, though he gives you one word answers and frequent nods.

But that was just because he'd just come home from a mission right?

"...and he just broke up with me out of the blue! Like was my 12,000 followers on TikTok not good enough for you?" You chuckle, attempting to crack a joke. He smiles confused, and you note he's probably too old to understand what TikTok was.

"Sounds like an asshole, love." He replies.

"Hmm, he was...I- I just don't know what he'd leave me for her...like I gave you my everything, I was always with you through thick and thin and what, that wasn't enough for you?" You trail off, the effects of the 2nd beer hitting you.

"I understand dove, you just give 'em everything and they just find someone else. What does he have that I don't?" He spaces out, his eyes falling on his teammates sitting at a different table. You follow his gaze, smiling slightly when you lock eyes with one of his smirking subordinates, whom you know know as Soap.

"Those people, they're your team?" You question.

His eyes aren't on you though as he responds, "That mohawk, that's Soap, Ghost next to him, tough as steel but soft at heart, Gaz on the opposite, funny lad, Roach, good ol' Roach..."

You look at the woman to the right of 'Roach', taking in her beauty. Though she's sitting down, you can tell she's taller that you by least 4 inches, with a blonde pixie haircut and painted with a dark smokey eye. A deep smirk is plastered onto her plump ruby red lips as she looks at John Price finally talking to a woman that isn't her. She raises a hand, waving to the both of you, which is almost instantaneously reciprocated by John.

"And her?" You ask, head nudging towards the woman.

"Her...That's Rose. You should meet her, you would like her, but who doesn't..." His chuckle fades out and you at how his attention was fully directed to her. A sinking feeling told you that you should have backed off from the married man, but it disappeared when John pointed out her partner, with gritted teeth.

Your hands are gripping the pages at this point, as you recall memories from the diary from his point of view.

You turn the page to the next entry, dreading the words.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub, I'm once again unfamiliar with the lingo, I'm not Simon?? She's nice but, not sure I see anything further than a friendship. Gaz and him are picking out an outfit for me, she wants to meet up for bowling apparently. I just want to be with Rose...

Clenching your fist, you shut the diary and toss it aside, feeling all kinds of emotions. Upset that John had never truly looked at you the way you'd looked at him. The way he never wanted you, like you wanted him.

Every time you'd seen him online on Whatsapp, but still hadn't opened your messages, he was ghosting you? Sure after a while of being friends, his behaviour gradually changed, accompanied with rapid texts, but you felt like this relationship was built on lies.

Did he even want to go bowling with you that day? Did you win because he purposely let you, because he was bored and wanted to go home, be with Rose instead? When he asked you to be his girlfriend, did he ask you with Rose in mind?

The ding of the oven stopped your trail of thoughts, so many questions swirling around your head. You walk out of the study, slamming the door behind you, the combined mess of dust and cobwebs remaining untouched.

The glass name plate falls to the ground, the edge shattering, with shards of clear glass laying dangerously on the wooden floor.

A couple of hours go by and the doorknob rattles at 8:45 P.M. on the dot. John was never late when he had to come home to you.

He reaches base at 7:30, drives exacting an hour to your shared home, after making a quick pit stop at the florists within 10 minutes to give you a freshly scented bouquet of red roses.

Roses. So that's why he'd give them you every time...

He makes sure to leave him 5 minutes of spare time, which was designated to flipping open a small metal notebook you'd gifted him, and writing his thoughts down. And once those 5 minutes were up, he places the notepad back into his jacket pocket and practically runs towards the front door.

"Dove, I'm home!" He exclaimed, gently placing his belonging on the floor, before walking into the living floor, where you sat on the sofa with your legs and arms crossed. (MY BITCH POSE IS NASTY)

"Sweetheart, you didn't run up to me at the door, you alright love?" He sits next to you, his calloused and freshly bruised arms rubbing your knee.

The silence was deafening and you couldn't find it in yourself to look at him after all you've read.

He takes it as a cue to continue, "I got you some roses, baby. Your favourite-"

"When did I say they were my favourite?"

John blinks at the interruption, "I mean, you don't like them? It's tradition to bring the same red roses for you every time I'm back..."

"And when did I say I liked them? Are they my favourite? Or are they her favourite?" You shift towards him, anger evident in your voice.

"Her? Who? Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I mean, come on man, you like floral shit that much that now you're making me wear it?"

"You...don't like floral scents? Did you want tulips instead, baby?"

Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance by his confusion.

"It doesn't matter if I wanted tulips, John, it's the fact that YOU like roses. In fact you've like Roses this entire time! Don't act like you like tulips 'cos you don't- to be honest I don't think you ever have!" You rant, handing running through your hair.

"I mean I like both honey, roses are just, um, prettier?" He sounds like he's asking you rather than telling you.

"Of course roses are prettier to you- that's all that you're fucking used to you. It's always roses, roses, roses. You're so obsessed with fucking roses, you never gave tulips a bloody chance!"

"Are we still talking about flowers-"

"And when you do give tulips a chance, you're still thinking about roses- how red they are, how pretty they are, how they need to be watered every 5 fucking minutes, even then there's already someone to water those damn. Red. Roses."

"I- I mean I like tulips too, baby-"

"No. You don't. No, you don't. Tulips are just the safest options for you, cos someone already plucked out those fucking roses. Cos roses don't want you."

You're standing up now, and John's attempts to speak are futile with every sentence you shout.

"No. In fact, roses has never wanted you, roses look better with someone else, and ol' poor John has no more roses, so he goes and waters some unwanted tulips instead!"

John stands up, towering over your shaking frame, his hands come up to stroke your biceps, but he's pushed away.

"I mean, did John ever even like tulips? Or was he faking it cos he never got roses? Was tulips just the safe option? Does John still want roses after all the years tulips have been there for him?"

You left out a pained cry, you didn't even notice the tears leaking out of your eyes.

"Does John even like tulips? Does John even love tulips?"

His hands wipe your tears away, and he brings you into his chest, and you don't attempt to push him away this time.

"Does you even love me, John?" You break down into his arms, letting him carrying you into the bedroom, where he places you gently on the bed, while you hiccup through your uneven sobs. He smells the stench of wine through your shaking breath, whilst stroking your hair, and you slowly fall into a deep slumber with your head pressed against his still uniform-clad chest.

The clock hits midnight and John gets up, trying not to wake you up, grabbing his sweats from the drawer and walking to the bathroom across the hall, in order to not wake you up, from what looked like a well-needed rest.

As he trudges out of the bedroom and through the corridor, the reflection of the broken glass catches his eyes and he squints in the darkness, squatting down to pick a small shard. As he lifts the remains of the nameplate, hooking it back to the door, he steps over the mess into the study to retrieve a dust pan and brush.

Flicking the lights on, he's met with what looks like a scene from the reality TV show - Hoarders. So starts cleaning quickly, picking up the duster and bunching up the paperwork from the floor, the pot of pens that had seemed to be knocked down, the diary he'd used to write in...hold on-

Picking up the diary, John flicks through the entries, the book naturally opening to the last open slide.

He begins reading the last entry.

19th December 2020

Thought me and Rose would go back to the pub for another drink for the holidays, but she's going back to his place. Seems they're taking the next steps with meeting the families.

Soap's annoyed at how I'm 'ghosting' the girl I met at the pub....

"Oh...my tulip, I've never loved roses as much as I loved you." He mumbles to himself, whilst simultaneously cringing at his previously written words, immediately throwing the book back on the floor.

It's past breakfast when you wake up, throat and eyes painfully dry from last night's crying session, forcing yourself to drag yourself to the bathroom. You've forgotten that John had come home last night, as your met with a familiar empty bed.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you walk downstairs, being face to face with the naked back of Captain John Price.

The smell of chocolate pancakes waft towards your nose, as you look around the kitchen, the room garnished with a variety of different flowered bouquets, with so many variations of plants.

Bundles of dahlias and lotuses, orchids and lilies, carnations and irises, roses and tulips.

John turns to your footsteps, smiling at his perfect woman.

"Baby, good mornin'" He greets you, placing a single rose into your hair, and pecking your forehead warmly.

"John, listen about last night-"

"It was the old diary, wasn't it?" he asks.

You nod, ashamed for your abrupt behaviour yesterday. John lifts your chin up, resting his forehead against yours.

"Rose never taught me how to love like you did."

"John, you don-" His pointer finger is pressed against your lips.

"Reading those words from the past, I can see how it may have painted a different picture of my feelings. But let me assure you, my love, that you are the one I adore with all my heart."

Your stroke his face, heart warming to his words.

"Every rose I brought home was a symbol of my love for you, not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded me of the beauty and grace that you bring into my life. And those tulips, they represent the new beginnings and the fresh start that we share together.

My love for you is unwavering and unconditional. You are my tulip, my true love, and I vow to cherish and adore you for all eternity. Please forgive me for any pain or doubt my past words may have caused."

"John..."

He hands you his notepad from from his back pocket, beckoning you to open it.

You look at the first entry.

19th February 2021

I mentioned how I journal sometimes to her, and she bought me a new notepad, it's cute how she calls it a diary. Things are looking good. Bowling's our thing, I let her win because seeing her smile means I've won too. I'm asking her out tonight, Soap cried real tears when I told him.

You turn the page.

20th July 2021

Our 6 month anniversary. Took her to a field of roses and tulips, though nothing compares to her beauty.

The next one.

17th September 2021

I seldom think of Rose, I have my tulip on my mind now. Rose retired, and the team celebrated last night. She hugged me and thanked me for being a good captain. She also acknowledged my previous feelings for her. Man that was uncomfortable, but I reassured her I'm with my tulip now. I love my tulip.

I've always preferred tulips anyway.

And the next.

5th July 2022

Our 500 day anniversary. I want to propose.

17th September 2022

She said yes!! She may be my fiance, but I've already started calling her my wife, not legally yet at least...illegally?

28rd December 2023

We married 30th November. The day we met. Xmas was amazing, I can't see myself with anyone but her. I'm getting deployed tomorrow though.

You look at the most recent entry, dated last night.

16th February 2024

Missed the valentines day with my missus. Hope these roses are enough, though I wanted to get something better. Tulips for my tulip. They ran out haha. Missed my girl, missed her like I've never missed someone before. Soap's right, deployment suck.

Tears welled up in your eyes, not from pain or doubt this time, but from overwhelming joy and love for the man standing before you.

"I'm sorry, John," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to doubt your love."

He smiled, a genuine and heartfelt smile that reached his eyes, pulling you into a warm embrace. "No need for apologies, my tulip. Thank you for teaching me how to love."

And in that moment, amidst the scent of chocolate pancakes and fresh flowers, it felt like you love story was just beginning, filled with trust, forgiveness, and a deep, unwavering love for each other.

That should not have taken me 2 days to complete what in the world. Also if i was tulip, that old diary is going straight into a fire! Barbecue anyone? <3 Quick Notes: I head-cannoned Rose to look like Sergeant Calhoun from Fix-it-Felix lolololol woman crush fr i get u john boy I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

[flowerxbunnie]

Tattoo artist matt 🫦 and he’s praising the reader and telling her she’s taking it really well 🫦🫦 and she gets addicted to it and keeps coming back for more tattoos 🫦🫦🫦 and he’s like ‘wow you’re single-handedly paying my bills, this one’s on the house’ 🫦🫦🫦🫦 and she’s like ‘no, i gotta pay you.’ 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦 i think you know where i’m going with this

ps I love you 💋

Ink

Tattoo artist!Matt x Fem Reader

Warnings: needles, blood, pain, tension, no smut (yet?? 😏) but veryyyyyy suggestive at times

6.3k words

Your skin is tender and raw, a soft wince drawn from your mouth as your tattoo artist wipes the excess ink with a rough paper towel.

“So proud of this one,” Alex beams as she scoots back in her chair, the wheels rolling her towards her supply cart. She grabs a roll of plastic wrap and some tape before using her feet to roll back toward your chair. “Let’s get you all wrapped up.”

“It turned out so good, dude.” You say in awe as you hold your arm out to her.

“Did you expect any less?” She jokes, wrapping the wound snugly and taping it up before shooting you a smile. “All done. Keep the wrap on for a few hours. It’ll be a little leaky, that’s normal. Wash once a day with unscented soap… blah blah blah you know the drill. Still legally obligated to tell you.” She chuckles at the end, standing up to throw away her stained gloves. “Come up to the desk whenever you’re ready.” She says before she turns on her feet and heads to the front of the shop.

You stand up and gather your belongings feeling the adrenaline rush a new tattoo always seems to bring out of you. Your arm pulses and slightly burns, a sensation you’d become addicted to over the past couple of years. You’re not covered in ink by any means, but you’ve gotten your fair share, all done by Alex.

You love the way her shop feels more like a home than a sterile clinical office. Tapestries are hung haphazardly across the walls, strings of fairy lights sprawl across the ceilings and there’s more weird little knick-knacks strewn about than you could ever imagine counting. Your favorite is the preserved butterflies she has in shadow boxes lined down the hallway.

Once you gather your keys and bag, you take the walk to the front and admire all the sketches pinned along the walls. Alex is waiting for you with a warm smile as she tells you the total. You sit your bag down and rummage for your wallet, gathering the money along with a generous tip as always.

“You want the change back?” She asks as she counts the bills.

“Just take the fucking tip Alex.” You raise an eyebrow at her.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” she chuckles humbly, shaking her head as she sorts the cash into her vintage register.

“I know I don’t have to,” you laugh, tossing your wallet back into your bag, “I want to.”

You grab the strap of your bag and throw it across your shoulder, knocking a binder off the counter in the process. You let out a quiet curse as you bend down to pick it up, flipping it over to look at the cover.

“Oh, you should look through that!” Alex chimes in excitedly. “It’s a bunch of flash pieces that are up for grabs. They’re going quick, you should pick one out!”

“Oh nice..” you thumb through the pages, studying the intricate artwork tucked behind sheet protectors. “These are so good Alex..”

“You think?” She asks, bending down to restock her glass display cabinet with more tattoo salve.

You turn page after page, seeing traditional pieces like tigers and roses, more abstract watercolor pieces and some random goofy sketches of cartoon characters. You stop when you come across a snake separated into segments with the word ‘collarbone’ scratched underneath of it.

“This one is so detailed,” you say, running your fingers across the sheet protector. “Why’s it all broken up like that?”

Alex stands back up to her feet and looks over the page, her brows furrowing a bit as she adjusts her glasses. “Oh, it’s because it’s made to look like it’s wrapping around your collarbone. Like it’s going into your skin kinda.”

“Oh, sick,” You say excitedly, “I’ll take that one then. When can you get me in?”

“That’s not mine, girl. That’s the new guy’s design. You may have seen him here before? He transferred here like three…ish months ago?” She rambles as she sorts through a stack of paperwork.

You think back, not recalling seeing a different face in the shop. “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone new. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been here and you usually get me in and out.” You pull the binder closer and admire the tiny detailing of the snake skin. “He looks pretty good.. but I don’t know if I can cheat on you.” You sigh jokingly.

“Honestly, he’s fucking amazing. His card is right there if you wanna make an appointment.” She points to a carousel of different artists’ cards. “Matt… the black card.. yep that’s it.”

You stick the matte black card in your bag and give Alex a humorous warning glare. “If he fucks my tattoo up Alex I swear to god.”

“Just make the appointment, Y/n. He’ll do good, promise. Why would I hire someone whose work I don’t trust?” She laughs and steps out from behind the counter, walking towards the door. “Now get out of my shop, I need to rest my eyes.” She laughs as she pulls the door open.

——————

You dig through your bag, pulling out hair ties, loose sticks of gum and countless receipts as you search for your favorite chapstick. “I swear I left it in here,” you think out loud, gasping as your finger slides across the corner of something sharp. You pull your hand back, sucking back a curse and see a tiny paper cut on your finger, laughing at the fact that something so small can hurt so bad. You reach back in and grab the culprit, a black sturdy rectangular card.

Fuck. It’s been 3 days.

You look over the card.

Matt Sturniolo

Appointments by text.

Come get somethin’ nice!

You pull out your phone and create a new contact, typing the 10 digit number slowly and double checking, making sure you got every single one right. You let out a sigh that you’ve been holding back, deciding to drop your worries, bite the bullet and make the appointment.

Alex won’t care, she doesn’t mind. She wants me to.

He thinks I’m a guy, funny, you think to yourself, locking your phone and sitting it on the counter.

—————

The week comes and goes, the same mundane routine dragging you through the creeping days. It’s finally Friday, meaning you’re risking the integrity of your skin on an artist you’ve never even met before, let alone vetted his work. Sure, he can draw a sketch but can he execute it just as well into your skin? The entire drive to the shop you shuffle through your playlist while your fingers absentmindedly tap against the steering wheel, mind racing with every possible outcome.

You sit in the parking lot, nerves at an all time high as you scroll through TikTok trying to numb your brain while the minutes pass. You quickly peek up to the clock on your dashboard, heaving a sigh.

5:32.

Fuck. I still have way too much time.

You groan quietly and put your phone down in your cupholder, leaning your head back against the headrest and close your eyes. Your left foot taps slowly against the footrest in your floorboard, creating a steady rhythm, pulsing along with your music that quietly hums in the speakers. You pick your head back up and grip the steering wheel with a huff, tracing your hands up and down around the warm leather.

Your eyes follow passersby as they stroll and pace down the sidewalk, essentially people watching. Your hand somehow makes its way to your mouth without realizing, your nails picking and pulling at the skin of your lips habitually. You only notice when you taste the bitter metallic flavor of blood on your tongue, silently scolding yourself as you pull down your vanity mirror.

You lick the wound and pull your sore bottom lip between your teeth, suddenly hyperaware of the shriveled, dehydrated state they’re in. Leaning across your car to reach for the glovebox, you pull it open and grab the lip oil you leave in your car for moments like this. You shut the glovebox and center yourself in the reflection of the mirror, opening the tube and applying a much too generous amount of the gloss to your lips. You smack and pucker your lips, appreciating the way they seem to come back to life, plump and slightly tinted.

You look to the side as you run your finger against the corner of your mouth, cleaning up your work. A small blackboard that sits outside the door of the shop catches your attention, propped up and smeared with chalked in words. It lists the information for an upcoming tattoo fair, has random small sketches littering the board, and lists a social media account near the bottom.

Follow us! @LoveBuzz on IG!

Why haven’t I ever thought of that?

You pick your phone up out of the cupholder after you slam your mirror shut, clicking the Instagram icon and typing the handle into the search bar. You click on the account, seeing that Alex’s individual account is linked at the top as well as a piercer, Darren, who you’ve met a couple of times. You scroll down through the feed, seeing copious photo collages of fresh versus healed ink and videos with music edited into the background, featuring Alex working her magic in the shop.

You scroll past a reel of Alex promoting a clean brand of tattoo healing balms, your finger coming to a still as you land on a video of a man hunched in his chair, his body leaning over as he works a tattoo gun into someone’s leg. You can’t make out much of him from the video, but he’s clad in a stone washed black t-shirt and jeans littered with ink stains. Tattoos sprawl across his left arm that pulls at the person’s skin, holding it steady as he moves the dripping needle back and forth. Though his face isn’t visible, you notice his wispy, umber brown hair that falls forward as he works. Light catches the strands and outlines each wave as they cascade over his brow bone. Scrolling down, you read the caption.

“Matt may be new but he is making himself well known in the shop! Text him to book, slots are filling up fast!”

You scroll further and find more pieces done by Matt but can’t seem to find a tagged account. Your shot nerves are soothed a bit as you examine each flawless piece of art, every one of them so perfect it’s almost like a printed photo taped to skin. You can’t deny that the man is talented. You scroll down until you reach the very first photo that mentions his name, dated three months ago just like Alex had said.

Maybe I do trust him.

You break yourself from the distraction of your phone and check the time again, quickly fixing yourself in the mirror as you realize you need to head in immediately. Your soft fingers brush down the wild flyaways in your hair in an attempt to look as put together as possible. Grabbing the handle of your bag and slinging it across your shoulder, you turn off the ignition and step out of your car, making sure to lock the doors behind you.

You feel the ground beneath your feet meeting your body in shockwaves with each step you take towards the familiar building. In the reflection of the glass you watch your figure grow closer. You let out one last deep exhale as you grip the iron handle, pulling it open and feeling the cool air shoot across your skin.

As you step in and the door falls closed behind you, you take notice that the front desk is unoccupied. Distinct chatter can be heard over the music playing in the studio just down the hall and past the foyer, deep rumbling tones that you can’t piece together. You’re familiar enough with the shop that you feel comfortable going back without a so-called escort, so you grip the handle on your shoulder and begin the walk down the dimly lit hallway.

The walls open up into the studio and the music is so loud it almost vibrates your skin. You step closer to the source of the voices, one of them being the piercer you’re familiar with. He stands talking expressively with his hands to another man who sits with his back facing you, arms behind his head as he leans back into his chair.

“Is Matt here?” You question, looking around the rest of the studio.

The men continue on with their conversation, completely unaware you’d even said anything over the racket of the rock music. Clearing your throat, you step forward, just about six feet away from them at this point and speak up once again.

“Is anyone working the desk right now?”

The piercer turns his head to face you and the man in the chair spins around, planting his feet to stop himself.

His blue eyes catch your attention first, so bright the gaze is almost difficult to keep. But you do, and so does he. He drops his hands down from the back of his head, one of his arms coming to lay on the armrest of his chair and the other stroking the stubble that peppers his chin. The tattoos across his left arm in contrast to the blank one on the right tell you that this is your guy, this is Matt.

What you don’t know is how he feels his blood pumping hot at the sight of you. He does his best to keep his eyes above your shoulders, but he can’t help letting them wander down your supple, shining skin, immediately thinking about how soft it must be. Matt sees so many women everyday, some in very compromising positions, but just the sight of you standing in front of him has made him feel weak. The way you look so innocent and bright, juxtaposing the way you’re standing in front of his sketches of skulls and anatomically correct organs being feasted on by animals.

You feel a wave of awkward silence even through the intense bass sounding through the speakers. You ask once again if anyone is working the front desk, but your voice struggles to overpower the volume. You see Matt’s cheeks pull up into a chuckle as he reaches back around to the table, fishing for his phone and clicking the volume down considerably.

You huff, trying to keep the annoyance out of your voice as you repeat yourself for the fourth time. “Is anyone working the front?”

“I’m sorry honey, we don’t take walk ins.” He rasps as he shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. “You’ll need to make an appointment.”

“I have one.” You retort, resting your weight on one of your legs.

The bearded man walks away to his piercing station, leaving the two of you in a sort of awkward staredown.

“Alex is out today, and I’m expecting a guy to be walking in any minute for my next appointment. Are you sure yours was for today?” He asks smoothly.

“You’re Matt right?”

His shoulders tense when you say his name, but he relaxes them as he nods his head. “Yeah, I’m Matt.”

“Oh, well then yeah.. I’m Y/n. Collarbone snake for 6 o’clock.” You clarify, pulling out your phone to ensure you had the date and time right.

His eyes widen and he silently scolds himself for assuming something so bold while being utterly wrong.

“Yeah, here it is.” You turn your phone to face him, stepping closer.

“I must have been tipsy when I replied or something,” he laughs and sits up in his chair, running his hands through his hair to soothe his embarrassment. “I assumed you’d be a dude for some reason.”

“No, at least not since the last time I checked.” You giggle, tossing your phone into your crowded bag.

His laugh gives you a sense of satisfaction, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he catches his breath. “Shit, that’s my bad then.” He says while pushing himself up to stand, his arms flexing under the tight sleeves of his shirt.

“No worries.” You give him a genuine smile, not wanting him to feel any more embarrassed than you can already tell he is from his flushed cheeks.

He steps forward with a long stride, his frame much larger and taller than you expected once he passes you to head to the hallway. He tries to ignore the way his pulse quickened with the way you beamed up at him moments before, walking quickly to the front desk.

You follow behind, breathing in the lingering scent his cologne leaves in his trail. Stepping in front of the counter as he grabs a stack of haphazardly sorted papers, you grab a pen from the cup in front of you.

He slides them over to you, groaning as he flips them so they’re facing your direction. “Might not be much help reading them upside down.” He chuckles. “Alright, so I’m assuming you know the drill, yeah?” He nods his head at your arms, eyes flickering over the ink.

“Mhmm..” you hum as you concentrate on crossing off and initialing boxes stating you don’t have any medical conditions hindering you from getting tattooed.

Matt watches in silence as you skim over the pages, twisting the pen between your small fingers. He places both hands on the ledge in front of him and moves ever so slightly closer, enough to watch your lashes as they brush your cheeks with each blink. If he got any closer you’d probably feel his breath hitting your skin.

You print and sign your name on the bottom of the last page, capping the pen and tossing it back into the cup. He’s stepping back as you look up at him with the papers outstretched, deciding ogling over you isn’t a very professional first impression.

“My ID is already on file.” You say as he takes the stack and turns to the side to run them through the scanner.

“Well look at you, smart girl huh?” He jokes, pressing buttons to send the papers through the machine.

You feel warmth creeping up your neck and across your cheeks as the words fall from his lips. “I mean,” you pause with a giggle, “Alex is my only artist so I know she’s got everything she needs from me.”

“And you’re cheating on her with me?” He chuckles softly as he steps out from behind the counter, turning to head back towards the studio. “Let’s get this started, shall we?” His voice is quiet, his back to you as he walks ahead.

Matt’s shirt is stretched thin across his broad shoulders, and you absentmindedly let your eyes sink down his arms, following the veins that trail from them into his hands as they swing. His walk is confident and steady, unwavering.

Part of him wishes he had let you walk ahead of him so he could selfishly glue his eyes to your legs, drinking up the way your shorts hug them perfectly. But he has to keep this professional, you’re just a customer.

He walks to his table, gripping a handle and maneuvering the headboard so that you’ll be partially sitting, partially leaning back. “Go ahead and have a seat for me.” He gestures you to the table.

You sit your bag in your lap as you adjust in the seat, a chill running through you as the cold textured leather presses against your back. Matt stands over his supply cart, looking back and forth between you and a few sheets of paper.

“I printed a few stencils but they’re all man sized..” he laughs, crumpling them up and tossing them into his trash bin. “I’m gonna have to free hand it.”

Your eyes widen as he grabs a marker off the top of the cart and pulls the lid off with his teeth, scooting his rolling chair up to your table. “Uhh.. are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Honey…” he laughs, his head falling forward before he looks up at you with a grin. “You know I sketched the design free handed, right?”

You silently curse yourself and do your best to laugh it off, but you definitely made yourself feel incredibly dumb. Somehow he switched the mood and made it feel like he was laughing with you instead of at you, though.

“Alright… first let me…” he trails off, looking around his table before replacing the marker with a fresh razor. “I know you don’t have chest hair, but I kinda have to clear the canvas regardless.” He gives you a humored smile.

He pulls his chair up, his left hand brushing your hair off of your shoulder and down your back. He grabs your tank top strap with a clenched jaw, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His fingers feel like jolts of electricity on your skin, like he shouldn’t be touching you, but also like you want more.

He’s a tattoo artist. Alex touches me everytime she does one of my tattoos. There’s nothing weird about it, stop making it weird.

You gulp and hope that your cheeks haven’t given away your feelings as he gets the strap out of his way and leans closer. You look forward, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with Matt as he slowly drags the razor across your skin.

“Alright there’s that.” He spins around and tosses the razor in the trash can, grabbing the marker once more. “Gonna sketch it out roughly right quick. It won’t look as detailed right now but I’ll add ‘em in later.” He mumbles as he tilts his head, bringing the marker to your collarbone.

Matt drags the marker across your skin with furrowed brows as he perfects the curvature of the snake to look like it’s wrapping around your bone. He can smell your sweet perfume permeating from your body, so close he can almost sniff out the individual notes. “You smell like candy.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. He bites down on his lip, shutting his eyes for a moment before he gets straight back to sketching, hoping you didn’t find it odd.

“Thank you!” You beam, “Funny enough it’s actually Prada Candy. I love it.”

He hums in response and finishes up his outline, rolling back to look at it from further away. “Sit up for me right quick.” He instructs and you listen. He nods his head, approving of his placement and sketch. “Let’s make sure you like it first.” He turns to the side and grabs a handheld mirror off his cart. He holds it out to you, his fingertips brushing yours as he hands it off.

“I love it! It’s the perfect size. Even just the sketch looks so good.” You grin as you study the purple ink in the mirror. You smile as you hand the mirror back to him, taking notice of the subtle curve of his lips.

“Great then. Already got the machine all set up and the ink wells filled. You ready?” He asks with raised eyebrows.

The look on his face tells you that you might have bitten off more than you can chew. “I… think I’m ready. Should I be worried?”

He sucks his teeth as he looks down with a stifled smirk. “Well… the collarbone isn’t the most pleasant place to get a needle jammed into your skin, I’ll leave it at that.”

You look to him with wide eyes. You’d never even considered how painful it might be, all of your other tattoos being on your arms and lower legs. “Matt, you’re scaring me.” You nervously laugh.

His stomach does a flip when you say his name for the second time today. He shoved the feeling down and reaches over, grabbing the tattoo gun in his right hand and turning it on briefly. The vibration sounds throughout the room and he assures it’s in good working condition before shutting it back off and looking up at you. “I think you’re a brave girl, you can take it.” He says lowly but causally as he rolls up next to the table, resting his left arm next to your shoulder.

The way Matt’s words fall from his lips like honey makes your skin feel as if it’s being licked with flames. You look down as he flips the gun on once again and dips the needle into the pitch black ink, the fluid dripping onto the table as he slowly raises it toward you.

“You’re gonna have to turn a little.” He almost whispers as he uses his left hand to guide your jaw to the side, giving him better access to your skin. “Alright, there we go.” He leans in as he brings the needle down into your skin, a sharp scratching and stinging pain making you gasp lightly. “You good?” He asks in a caring tone as he lifts the gun back up and scans your pained expression.

“Yeah, yeah.. I’m okay.” You breathe out. “Feels a lot different than arms and legs.”

You see him nod silently and lower the needle back to the surface of your skin, slowly pressing all the way down until he’s drawing the solid outline. He adjusts his left arm and places his warm hand onto your shoulder, his fingers gripping and pulling at the skin to keep it taut. He glances up at your face every now and again as he tattoos you, his view of your side profile and jawline begging him to keep looking. “You can move your head now. Got that upper outline all done.”

You turn your head to look at him, a smile pulling at your cheeks when you see he’s already looking up at you with hooded lids. He flashes you a small crooked grin before dipping his head back down and working on the rest of the outline. You squirm in your chair as the needle moves and works across your flesh, the area growing hot and tender.

You see a thin sheen of sweat forming on his arms under the heat of his overhead light, illuminating every dip and valley through the rolling veins on his hands. His wrist moves back and forth as he maneuvers the machine, his lip bitten between his teeth. Every few minutes his body must become sore because he moves his legs, adjusting in his seat before he brings his grip back to your shoulder.

He concentrates as he finishes the last of the outlining details, sitting up against the backrest of his chair and putting the gun down on his cart. “All done with the outline.” He smiles.

“Really?” You marvel excitedly. You peer down to take a look but huff once you realize you can’t bend your neck enough to get a good view.

Matt takes notice and leans over to grab the handheld mirror off his cart, except his left hand finds a spot atop your knee, sliding gingerly down your calf as he stretches toward his cart. As soon as his touch is there it’s gone. He leans back toward you and hands you the handle, smiling when you examine it in the mirror. “What do you think?”

You won’t lie to yourself, your pulse quickened when his hand brushed down your leg. Your only hope is he doesn’t notice the trail of goosebump he left behind in the absence of his touch. You struggle to find words, your mouth hanging open before you eventually find your voice. “I.. uh… l-looks really good.”

He exhales a small chuckle as he turns to switch the outlining needle for a shading needle. “Let me know if you need a break before I start this part.” He mumbles as he dips the set of needles into the well of ink.

You quickly shake your head. “Nope, get it over with.” You say flatly, closing your eyes. Shading is hit or miss, it either feels super relieving or like you’re getting shredded with a freshly sharpened cheese grater.

“That’s a good girl. All in one go, hm?” He murmurs as he scoots closer yet again.

He did not just say that. I’m thinking too much into this.

You give him a light chuckle and suck air in through your teeth once the needles meet your skin.

“Shhh.. you’re doing good. A lot better than a lot of crybaby men that have been on my table.” He coos as he drags the ink over the raw, bleeding skin.

If it wasn’t Matt you’d be much more of a mess. You’d probably be damn near in tears. But you can’t seem weak around him, so you bite your lip and squeeze your eyes shut as he shades and details the design. Your hands clench the air until your knuckles are white and throbbing, your body needing to release energy into anything other than the pain you’re in.

“Squeeze my arm if you need to. I don’t mind.” Matt proposes, stilling his movement and brushing his brown waves out of his eyes before looking at you expectantly.

You gulp and move your shaking hands to his bicep, wrapping your dainty fingers around the expanse of it lightly.

“C’mon, give me more than that.” He chuckles, “Just don’t squeeze hard enough that I fuck up your ink.”

You grip into his arm with more pressure, feeling his muscles expand and contract under his skin as he moves his forearm.

Thank god Darren left earlier. This looks so… personal.

When a small strained whimper slips out of your mouth he clears his throat, blinking hard as he wipes the tattoo with the paper towel in his left hand. He knows it’s because of the pain, he knows he shouldn’t enjoy the sound. But he does.

He can’t help himself as he finishes up the rest of the tattoo. He finds himself pressing the needle into your skin with more pressure than necessary, enough to draw more pretty sounds out of you and make you grip onto his arm. Enough for you to throw your head back onto the leather of the table, squirming your legs as you squeeze your eyes shut. He’d never do anything to mess up the integrity of his art, but god does he want to. He knows it’s wrong that his pants grow tighter with every move you make, every curse you let out as he pushes more and more ink into your skin. He sees this everyday, why is it affecting him like this?

The angel on his shoulder tells him to get the tattoo done, work fast and get you off his table. The devil on his other tells him to keep you here writhing and squeezing at him for as long as he can. His eyes drift across your sweaty face, your wet baby hairs sticking to your forehead. Your chest rises and falls as he digs in, taking his time to let the needle drag. His mind floods with sin, his hands desperately aching to pull the neckline of your tank top even a millimeter lower.

Your harsh squeeze to his arm snaps him out of his stream of thought, realizing he’d been keeping this on for too long, causing you unnecessary pain. Lifting the needle from your skin, he examines the finished piece for a moment. “All done.” He says flatly, pulling his arm from your grasp to set the machine down on his cart.

“Fuck… that was intense.” You breathe out, turning your head toward him.

“Mmm but you did great. Sat so well.” He praises as he grabs a bottle of cleaning solution.

You have no time to react before he’s squirting the liquid onto your collarbone, a harsh pulsing sting deep in your skin. “Oh that’s… fucking horrible.” You do your best to laugh through the sting.

He laughs along with you, nodding while he lets his eyes watch the droplets that flow down your chest and into the valley of your cleavage. He tears his eyes away and looks at his cart, scoffing when his box of paper towels proves empty. “Gotta go get some more paper towels,” he holds up the box, “be right back.”

“I won’t move a muscle.” You giggle and lean back onto the table.

He offers a quick smile before standing up, quickly turning around and walking to the utility closet across the studio. Once inside and out of view, he lets his hand wander down to the waistband of his jeans, slowly trailing lower to brush over his throbbing erection. He knows this is bad. He’s never had this kind of reaction to a client, and he can’t be crazy. He knows he’s seen you looking too.

He lets his rough fingertips push his shirt up and dip beneath his jeans and boxers, grabbing ahold of his pulsing cock with a slow, shaking breath. He pulls it up and tucks it into his waistband, knowing he can’t let you see the struggling tent in his pants when he walks back into the studio.

He quickly grabs a new sterile stack of paper towels and fills the empty box, sighing deeply before he begins the walk back to his station.

“They were up on a high shelf huh? Had to find a ladder?” You joke, poking fun at the fact he took longer than expected.

“Oh yeah. Had to call the fire department actually. Like when there’s a cat stuck in a tree.” He quips back with a laugh, sitting down and letting his chair roll closer to you.

He rubs the cleaning solution away and beams at his work. He may have taken longer than he needed, but damn if you didn’t get an insanely detailed snake piece. He grabs a package of Saniderm from his cart and peels the backing off, slowly applying it to the raw skin. “Leave this on for like two or three days, you can shower in it, sleep in it, the whole nine yards. It’ll start lifting and you’ll know it’s time to take it off.”

“Hmm.. Alex always uses plastic wrap.” You say questioningly, peering down at the clear bandage.

“That’s because she’s old.” He says matter of factly, peeling his gloves off and tossing them in the trash.

“She’s 35!” You chuckle and smack his shoulder.

“Yeah… old.” He replies as he fishes into his pocket. “Gotta get a picture of this, it turned out so sick.” He pulls his phone out and opens his camera, zooming in until he has the right angle and snapping a photo.

“Don’t post that, I bet I look busted.” You whine, sitting up and stretching your back.

“Well sweetheart, your face isn’t in the picture. But for the record, I think you look pretty good for a girl who just got a metric fuck ton of ink shoved into her collarbone with a needle.” He says as he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

Your breath hitches inaudibly in your throat, heat lapping at your cheeks.

I have to play it cool. He didn’t call me pretty. He’s saying I took the tattoo well, that’s all.

“Thanks, Matt.” You smile, throwing your legs off the table and letting your feet hit the floor.

“After you.” He gestures his arm out as he stands, knowing he has to take the opportunity to walk behind you this time.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and walk down the hallway, feeling his eyes bore into the back of your head the entire way.

Except his eyes bore into everything he missed out on earlier. Your toned, smooth calves and up to your plush thighs that wiggle as you walk. The curve of your ass in your shorts. The way your hips sway with each step, taunting his still half-hard member.

You reach the front desk and peek into the mirror on the wall to the left of it, admiring the fresh ink. You can’t stop ogling at it as he prints out a receipt, walking up to the register and silently watching you. You turn your head to him and mumble an “oops”, stepping back to the center of the desk and grabbing the receipt from him. “Only $120?” You exclaim, widening your eyes as you look up to him.

He gives you a light nod and a shrug, brushing his hand through his fluffy waves. “You took it like a champ. Plus, I know you’ll be back. Gotta give that recurring customer discount, right?”

You know your cheeks are fire engine red at this point as you dig for your wallet, feeling as if you’re taking too long.

Am I being crazy or is that flirting? He’s flirting, right?

You open your wallet and dig out the cash, adding a generous tip to the stack before you hand it over. “I really appreciate it, Matt.”

“Not a problem. You have my number if you need anything else.” He returns as he sorts the cash into the register. He flicks his eyes back up and meets yours, a brief, almost-too-long moment of eye contact held between you two.

You blink hard a few times before clearing your throat and nodding, stepping back from the counter. “You got it. Thanks again.”

You turn on your feet and head for the door, pushing it open while your brain spins with thoughts of your encounter.

What the fuck was that?

—————

authors note: part two??? lmk 😈😈😈

taglist: @solarsturniolo @lustfulslxt @whotfisade @soursturniolo @recklesssturniolo @worldlxvlys @chrisolivia4l @kiarastromboli @mattnchrisworld @cupidsword @kvtie444 @xplrfear @knowingnothingnoel @karlybbx @chrisfavoritepepsi @mwah0mwah @starsturniolo @christinarowie332 @fionaheartswomen @angelic-sturniolos111 @mqttittude @sturniolowhore @luv4kozume

[ayyy-pee]

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Model!Shoko Ieri x Female Reader, Model!Utahime Iori x Female Reader, Shokohime x Female Reader

Summary: You're a top Public Relations manager covering Tokyo Fashion Week. All the drugs, sex and outrageous going ons never see the light of day. Why? Because it's your job to cover up scandal.

But that doesn't mean you can't have your own risky fun.

Story Warning: Smut, LESBIANS, Reader works in Public Relations, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of hookups, Bath sex, Bathtub Threesome, Cunnilingus, Cum Eating, Profanity bc c'mon...it's me, Vaginal Bumping and Grinding, Referenced STRAP usage, Fingering, Secret Flings, Sneaky Sex, Dub-con? (Reader and ShokoHime have a few drinks...but do consent to sex), Sneaking Around, Secret Recordings

Art by: Cake__Sensei (Twitter)

A/N: I FINALLY finished something for my Jujutsu Journal Collab Event! I hope yall enjoy!!! Thank you to everyone participating and for everyone who has helped me to reach 3k followers!!!

You’ve always loved the fast paced feel of Tokyo Fashion Week. The bright lights flashing and catching every crease and detail of the fabrics on display. The music thumping and crowd cheering as the models strut down the runway. The chaos backstage as everyone rushes to slip in and out of the next garment in time for their cue. Yes, you loved being a part of that feeling, you loved capturing that feeling. Because it was your job to catch every crease and detail, the sexy walks of the models, the mayhem that happens behind the scenes while the audience patiently waits.

It’s exhilarating, really. Being invited to such elite and exclusive events has changed your life in ways you could have never imagined. When you first started your career in fashion, you would have never dreamed of making it this far. This was worlds away from filming street fashion on your shitty little cell phone and interviewing small time designers. But you’ve worked so hard, worked even smarter and have networked your way to the top of your department.

And now, you're the head of the PR team for one of the top fashion magazines in Japan, currently assigned to cover the after party of Tokyo Fashion Week to collect enough content for a post show documentary.

The after party is as wild as you’d imagined it would be. The ritziness and glam of the actual fashion show can hardly be found here. It’s all thumping loud music, raunchy dancing and paraphernalia scattered across various surfaces. 

Looking for sweaty bodies bumping and grinding in off the runway Dior? You’ll find it here. 

Want to catch someone snorting a line in vintage Chanel? Just turn your head in any direction, really. 

Can you see a pair of this season’s YSL heels peeking out from around the corner where someone is on their knees giving the sloppiest blowjob? Absolutely.

And it’s your job to make sure that what’s happening here never sees the light of day.

You love scandal, because it gives you a job, pays your bills and keeps your lights on and food in your fridge. As long as some celebrity is getting into shit they’re not supposed to, you’ll always have a job. But outside of work, you loathe scandal, avoid it at all costs because the biggest cost would be your career. Sure, you’ve joined in on the fun, partook in scandalous behavior from time to time, but you’re always careful. There are never any traces, never any receipts, never any damning evidence that could lead back to you.

No one will ever know that you spent a weekend in Bali with famous pop musician Satoru Gojo while his wife waited patiently for him to return from “filming” a new music video.

They will also never know about your brief tryst with his best friend, Suguru Geto in Nara, Seoul and Bora Bora. Not even Satoru.

And your romantic holiday trip with award winning actress Yuki Tsukumo? As far as everyone else knows, it never happened.

See, you were that damn good at your job. That’s why you were the head of your PR team, after all. It’s why you knew exactly where to direct your videographer to point their camera. You spot the rolled dollar bills and white lines before they can react, finger pushing the camera sideways to focus on something else.

Lo and behold, it points to a group of models standing casually off to the side of the party as they mingle with guests. You recognize one face among the crowd, those deep purple bags beneath his eyes highlighted by the flashing neon lights.

It’s Choso, a model, with his hair up in space buns, a part of his styling. He’s dressed to the nines in the most stylish streetwear of the season, his signature Prada combat boots on. 

You’ve known Choso for quite some time, often running into each other at these afterparties. Years ago, in the early hours of the morning, you’d clumsily attempted a drunk hookup. Every kiss, every touch, every attempt to work each other up to something more amounted to nothing. It ended with you both tangled in each other’s arms, falling apart with laughter. And so, you’d decided you were better off as friends, and had become quite close since. It worked better for you both that way. You just weren’t into each other like that.

But Choso has been a good friend to you. You often find yourself hanging out together after the chaos of the fashion show has died down and a new session of mayhem has begun for the afterparty. You haven’t seen him in months, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference because Choso spots you easily behind the camera and waves you over to his group of friends.

“Haven’t seen you since Paris,” he calls out to you as you approach. He slings an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tightly to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know! I’ve missed you!” You yell back. “How have you been?”

“Not too bad, not too bad at all. Dating someone now!”

You lean back in his hold, brows rising to your hairline. “You? In a relationship?” 

You’re shocked. You’ve seen Choso go through different women, but never heard him refer to whoever he was seeing as dating. He nods, just as one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on approaches you two. Her lips quirk into a pretty smile and you can tell right away that she’s not a model. The smile is far too genuine, but that’s not to say she couldn’t be one if she wanted. She’s stunning, with smooth caramel brown skin and braids that fall down her back, and big brown eyes that you can already see Choso getting lost in as he pulls away from you to wrap his arms around her waist. He peers down at her, the awe apparent in his gaze. Like he just can’t believe he’s got her.

“Hey, babe,” he mutters just before his lips meet hers in a hungry kiss.

Oh, he’s in love, love.

Choso introduces you to his babe, Kamila and she’s as sweet as she looks. But you don’t get to talk to her much, because Choso is not willing to spend any time he’s not obligated to away from his love. You don’t blame him. She’s breathtaking. You can’t help but smile, watching as Choso and his girlfriend completely forget they’re at this party together, surrounded by people. 

Which is fine, because it’s about time to wrap it up yourself so that you and your crew can also take time to enjoy the rest of the festivities.

Turning to your associate, you signal for them to hand you their camera. They quickly switch it off before placing it in your hands. “Go party,” you tell them, dismissing them for the night. “Nothing crazy,” you add. “And if it gets crazy, make sure there’s nothing that can be traced back to the company. And if something happens that can be traced back to the company, call me.”

They know the rules. They’re the same ones you follow and the same ones the company practically beat into your skull when you were first brought on. So far, they’ve worked for you. No one has been able to outsmart any of you. Your team is solid.

“Got it boss,” your cameraman exclaims. Then they’re off to get into whatever trouble the night has in store for them.

And while you’re pondering what trouble you can get into, it seems to find you first.

“Boss, huh?” A sweet voice questions behind you. You spin around to see Choso and his girlfriend are now nowhere in sight. Instead, you’re face to face with two of the most alluring women you’ve ever laid eyes on. They’re dressed in skin tight dresses that leave little to the imagination, their long legs exposed and damn they look good. You recognize them from the show and from the model roster.

The beautiful slender one with the cute little beauty mark beneath one of her tired eyes – Shoko Ieiri. She’s got a bit of an intimidating aura and a smile that has your heart pounding rapidly behind your ribcage. She’s a bit scary. And admittedly, you find it sexy. 

You’ve never spoken to Shoko. The models are usually too busy working and racing around backstage to have much time to mingle. By the time the show’s over, they’re either back in their rooms or out at whatever party they can get into. But have also never heard anything negative about Shoko from any contacts in the industry, which speaks volumes to you. You hear everything. It’s easy for anyone to get their hands on anything if they try hard enough.

When there’s nothing to find, it means they’re good at keeping their dirt swept under the rug. Those are the types of people you get along best with.

Then, there’s the slightly shorter one, with a rough scar that runs from one side of her face to the other in contrast to her soft features – Utahime Iori. She’s as striking as Shoko – curvy and looks soft in all the right places. 

Again, nothing crazy about Utahime. You’ve heard she’s quite the hothead, which would be quite interesting if it were true. She has a less intimidating air about her. Her big brown eyes make her seem sweeter than the woman standing beside her. It makes her all the more intriguing to you.

Regardless, they both have their pretty gazes on you and for a split second, you feel the roles reverse. In this world, you’re at the top of the food chain. Everyone else is the prey. Because you could spin any story, take any insult slung your way and crush your target. Because no one had anything on you. But for some reason, as these two women stare you down, Utahime with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and Shoko puckering her lips around the butt of a cigarette, you feel like they could destroy you.

And if there’s one thing you love, it’s a woman who feels dangerous.

So when Shoko asks if you’d like to join her and Utahime for some drinks, you really can’t say no. And you don’t want to.

- - - - - - - - -

“What’d you think of the show?” Utahime asks eagerly. You’re all seated on one of the expensive velvet sofas on the second floor of this club. Shoko has made herself comfortable, leaning back against the arm of the chair. And you’ve made yourself even more comfortable, seated between her long legs and leaning against Shoko’s chest while Utahime sits next to you, idly playing with your fingers.

You take a slow sip of your drink. It’ll probably be your last for the night. From the moment you laid eyes on these two, you knew what direction you wanted the night to go. You want to be sober enough to enjoy it.

Utahime peers up expectantly at you with those big brown eyes of hers, long lashes curling cutely and it makes your cheeks heat. The alcohol is not helping with how easily your body is responding.

“It was really good,” you finally answer. Utahime beams, a little smile beginning to grow on her lips.

“Really?” She asks, and you nod. “We did good?”

Behind you, you feel the vibration of Shoko’s chuckle rumble against your back. And as you stare down into Utahime’s eyes, it’s clear why.

Okay. This one likes praise, you note mentally. You nod again. “So good.” And you’re unable to stop the smile forming on your lips when Utahime’s grin widens. She looks over to Shoko, who lazily takes a drag of another cigarette, blowing her smoke out of the side of her mouth to avoid suffocating you. Her long fingers trail absentmindedly up and down your arm as she listens to you and Utahime continue on about the show.

You’ve noticed that Shoko isn’t very talkative. She’s more observant than anything and while that would usually bother you, there’s something about Shoko that puts you at ease. Like you can put your life in her hands and can be confident you would be alright. Maybe it’s because everything around you is always so busy, always so loud. Her silence feels grounding amongst the chaos. 

But you also find her silence a little funny since she and Utahime seem to be so close. Utahime seems more the party type than Shoko does. She’s outgoing and friendly, warm and inviting. It’s such a stark contrast to Shoko, and yet they’re always with each other. Even earlier in the night, if Shoko went to the bar, Utahime was right behind her, telling you they’d be right back before chasing after her. If Utahime wanted to dance, Shoko was next to her. You suppose opposites do attract.

You suspect they’re more than just colleagues or friends and you file that tidbit away in your mind. If the night is headed where you want it to go, where you suspect it’s going to go, you need to collect any pertinent information you can beforehand. 

Just in case.

“Ugh,” Shoko groans, leaning forward suddenly to smash her half finished cigarette into the ashtray on the side table next to her. “All this noise is making my head hurt.”

Utahime nods in agreement. “It has been a long day…” She sits straighter, grasping your hand tightly she asks, “Should we get going?”

Damn, you think. You’re a little disappointed to think the night is ending here. “Are you two heading home?” You’re sure the frown on your face is clear, even in the darkness of the venue. You don’t want them to go yet.

Shoko snorts, shaking her head. She leans back against the chair, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you back onto her. “No,” she breathes, and she’s so close to your ear, you can feel her breath ghost along your skin, can smell the faint mixture of nicotine and spearmint. “We don’t live anywhere near here,” she explains, fingers gliding along your skin again. “Hime and I got a reservation at one of those onsen hotels up the street.”

“It’s really nice from the pictures I saw online,” Utahime adds, a cheerful lilt to her tone when she speaks. “Can’t wait to get there.”

You can feel the shift in the atmosphere when those words leave her lips. The air is thick, heavy. You’re familiar with this feeling. You know it all too well, and your heart races in your chest. Behind you, you feel Shoko’s body tense up briefly before she relaxes.

Then Utahime is crawling along your form, moving closer to you, closer and closer, and you think she’s going to try and kiss you. And damn it, you’d let her…if it was you she was aiming for. Instead, you watch, eyes blown wide with curiosity and honestly, desire as Utahime presses her plush lips to Shoko’s. Normally, you’d be elated to know your hunch was correct, that they were in fact more than friends, but you can’t seem to care when you see their lips connect. Their kiss is sweet at first, just a few light pecks, quiet sighs between them. Until Utahime grins into the kiss, pulling back slightly to giggle at the way Shoko’s brows knit together. Shoko frowns, bringing a hand up to grip Utahime’s long chocolate tresses.

“Don’t tease me, Hime,” she breathes through gritted teeth. Then she’s pulling Utahime’s face to hers, smashing their lips together for a messy, passionate kiss. And all you can do is watch as their tongues slip into each other’s mouths, breaths heavy as they quietly moan into each kiss. It’s so sexy, the way Utahime whimpers. How Shoko nips at Utahime’s already swollen lips. How Shoko pulls you tighter against her, pressing your ass against her groin.

You’re not sure if it’s the drinks you’ve had with these girls, the cigarettes or the scent of their perfumes that has your head swimming. Hell, maybe it’s a mixture of it all, but you’re so turned on watching these beautiful women kissing in front of you. All of their lust being poured into each slot of their lips, every groan and whimper between them, it’s all so arousing. You squeeze your thighs together, prompting a soft chuckle from the woman behind you. Shoko breaks away from the kiss, releasing her hold on Utahime’s hair who pouts cutely, sitting back on her knees.

“Don’t look so sad, Hime,” Shoko coos. She turns her attention back to you. “Just seemed like someone wanted to join us.”

And you do. You want to join them real fucking bad.

But when Shoko leans forward, just trying to press a kiss to your neck, your brain suddenly crawls out of the fog. You’re out in the open, in a compromising position with two models, at that. So you move, a hand flying up to push Shoko back a little.

Her brows furrow, head tilting in confusion and she releases her hold on you. “Oh– Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…I just thought–”

“No you’re right,” you reassure them. Your eyes dart around the venue, and while everyone is likely drugged up or too drunk out of their minds to notice three girls feeling each other up in the club, you can never be too careful. “Just…not here. Let’s go back to your hotel.”

Shoko looks at Utahime, who stares at you two with eager eyes and a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. “Okay! Let’s go!”

- - - - - - - - -

Shoko checks you all into the hotel, and the room is as beautiful as you’d imagine it would be. There’s a main bedroom with a fluffy king bed ready to be slept in…or not. Off to the side of the room is a small dining area, and through large glass doors is the onsen bath, the water already run by the hotel staff for you. It screams luxury. You can see the steam curling from the water and god, if you couldn’t use a bath to wash away the day.

You set your bag and camera down on the dining table. Stretching your arms over your head, you take in the room, moving across the space. “This hotel is fucking incredible,” you gasp. “I can’t believe your agency spoils you guys like this.”

Shoko laughs, kicking her heels off and setting them in the little armoire by the entrance. “Right? I was surprised myself. Make yourself at home,” she tells you from the other side of the room.

She didn’t have to tell you twice. You couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed and – 

“What’s this for?”

You peek over your shoulder, eyes landing on Utahime fumbling around with the camera and panic sets in. You cannot lose that footage. “Please don’t touch that!” It comes out more forcefully than you intended and Utahime sets the camera down quickly, holding her hands up defensively. 

“Sorry!”

You rush toward her, only to be stopped in your tracks by Shoko, who places her hands on your shoulders. “Hey, relax. She was just looking.” She fixes you with a small smile, running her hands soothingly along your arms. And it does calm you, the earlier fear you felt melting away. “Be glad you caught her before she dropped it.” Shoko shakes her head, releasing your shoulders before she turns, moving towards the other woman. Utahime stands still, watching and waiting as Shoko slips behind her easily. Shoko’s fingers pinch the zipper of Utahime’s dress and drag it along the fabric until her dress slowly loosens around her chest and your gaze falls to the movement. “She can be careless sometimes,” Shoko speaks softly. Her fingers glide along Utahime’s collarbone, dragging down to the swell of her breasts. “Don’t mind her.” 

Shoko spins around, and Utahime follows, gently pushing Shoko’s hair aside. She presses a soft kiss to the back of Shoko’s neck and you watch as she trails kisses along the side of Shoko’s neck, pulling quiet sighs from the taller woman as she pulls the zipper until the fabric falls to the floor, revealing her bare slim form. Shoko turns back around and captures Utahime’s lips with hers, only breaking away to whisper, “Be more careful, okay?” before she’s back on her.

And all you can do is watch, the nerves you felt earlier about the camera now melted away. Beneath the soft lighting of the hotel room, they look like ethereal beings. Too innocent to be partaking in such salacious behavior. Arousal pools in your core as the vision of the two model’s tongues tangling sends you spiraling. Have you ever been so turned on, so eager to touch someone, to feel their body on yours? Even your nights spent with the most famous celebrities never had you so tempted to slip your hands into your panties.

It’s the way Shoko holds onto Utahime’s form against her own. How she reaches a hand up to pull down the loosened fabric against Utahime’s chest. How Utahime becomes exposed, her supple breasts falling gently. Utahime’s soft whimpers when the chill air ghosts along her pretty pink nipples, the buds puckering when Shoko rolls them gently between her fingers.

Shoko sighs, pulling away reluctantly. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers, hands kneading Utahime’s breasts. “So beautiful. My perfect girl.”

You can see the way Utahime’s eyes light up from across the room, a shy smile lifting the corners of her lips. “No, you,” she teases and Shoko chuckles.

Her heated gaze finds yours from across the room, how you’re watching them intently with desire clear in your eyes. Utahime follows her line of sight, and it’s clear to her what Shoko wants. She raises her hand, inviting you over to join. And you don’t hesitate. Like magnets drawn to each other, your legs carry you to them with ease.

Both women welcome you, the anticipation clear. They want this just as badly as you do, and for a moment, you wonder if their panties are just as soaked as yours. They’ve been kissing each other, touching each other, getting to taste and enjoy each other while you’ve gotten the pleasure of watching from the sidelines. Now you’re about to partake in these pleasures with them. You’re more excited than you care to admit.

Utahime takes your hand, guiding you closer and closer until you’re standing right in front of her. “Are you okay with this?” She asks, eyes locked on your parted lips and you nod your consent.

“Yes, I want this.”

Utahime’s bright eyes travel to Shoko, who watches you both with hardly concealed interest. 

“This stays here, though. Right?” 

You want to be sure before moving forward. Not that you were concerned, but better to have heard it with your own ears.

”Of course,” Shoko confirms. She bites down on her lip before looping an arm around your waist. Now she has both you and Utahime in her hold. “Now kiss her.”

The command has your core aching. You’ve wanted nothing more than to know what it felt like, tasted like, to kiss them. Didn’t matter who first or if it was both at the same time. You just wanted to feel their lips on yours.

And you do, when Shoko dips her head down to bury her face in your neck just as Utahime presses her mouth on yours. The moment their mouths connect with your skin, your body ignites with heat. Utahime is an amazing kisser. She has pretty, plush and soft lips that easily mold against yours. And she makes cute little noises when your tongues touch.

Shoko on the other hand, is a bit rougher, hungrier with her kisses. When she cups your cheek and breaks your kiss with Utahime by turning your head, she’s quick to nip at your lips. Her tongue slips into your mouth the second you let out a moan. While you and Shoko are heavily making out, Utahime takes this time to grab your hands, laying them against her large breasts.

“Touch me,” she sighs, squeezing your hands beneath hers and moaning at the applied pressure. 

You oblige, hands running lightly over the hardened buds and you revel in the way Shoko moans a quiet “I love the way you play with her tits…” into your mouth. “I wanna see you play with her pussy later.” You whimper into the kiss, her confession making your cheeks heat. You’ll admit, this is your first threesome. It’s hard to focus, your mind is so foggy with the arousal building in your core. It’s all too much – too much movement, too much touching, too much sound and way too much going on with your own body.

Your lips tingle, almost numb from how hard and greedily Shoko kisses you. Your skin vibrates with the way Utahime is practically helping you to play with her breasts. And your panties are probably dripping with arousal right now. You are desperate to cum.

“We should get into the bath,” Utahime groans when you cup her breasts. She leans forward, nudging Shoko away from your lips. Shoko gives her hardly any space at all, taking one side of your mouth while Utahime takes the other. Then it’s all three of your tongues tangling together in this sloppy, wet kiss. 

Though you’re all reluctant to break away, Shoko moves first, stepping back enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off of you, forcing Utahime back as well. You’re all breathing heavily, flushed and aroused beyond measure, but you still nod. “Yeah, let's get in bath…” 

++++++++++

“Have you been with a woman before?” Shoko asks, lacing her fingers between yours as she guides you into her lap. You straddle her, though you don’t sit fully on her lap yet.

You’ve all slipped into the warmth of the deep hotel bathtub. Shoko sits half submerged on the bathtub’s built-in bench with her back against the tub’s wall. If your body was burning up before, it’s on fire now, your pulse racing after spending the last few minutes lathering each other’s bodies and kissing until your lips hurt.

“I have.”

Shoko’s brows rise, almost as if she’s surprised by the confirmation. “Two women?”

You shake your head. Nevertheless, Shoko grins as she asks, “Well? The one you’ve been with…How was it?” She pulls you closer, until your lips are hovering barely over hers, breaths mingling. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

The question hangs heavy between you two. It’s not as though answering this question would implicate you in any way, or give them any clues as to who the last woman you slept with was. So you answer honestly, just barely above a whisper. “Yeah, it was pretty good.”

Utahime giggles, gliding through the water to close the distance between you all. “She’s so cute, Shoko.” 

Shoko cups your face, eyes cast down to your lips. “She is, isn’t she?” She runs her thumb along your lip teasingly before she declares, “I can give you something better than pretty good.” 

“Yeah?” You challenge her.

“Yeah, she can,” Utahime confirms. “We can.” She closes the gap between you all, placing her hands on your waist from behind. You feel her wet breasts press against your back and your eyes flutter closed. Utahime is curvy in all the right places. You are no better than a man, more than turned on by the feeling of her pressed against you. Your absolute favorite part about her is her pretty, large breasts. You can’t wait to have her nipples in your mouth.

Utahime places light kisses along your skin, along your neck, moving so that she’s on her knees beside you and Shoko. She adjusts her height smoothly so that she sits a little taller, enough so that she can cup the back of your head and pull you to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple quickly, eagerly and she gasps, back arching and pushing her breast further into the cavern of your mouth. You hum against her, tongue rolling the pert bud. She tastes of the strawberry body wash you just rinsed off of her. You’re so distracted, moving back and forth between Utahime’s breasts that you don’t notice Shoko slipping a hand between the other woman’s thighs beneath the water. Not until Utahime cries out, hands coming up to find purchase on your shoulders. 

And Shoko, the bitch that she is, places her other hand on your thigh and guides you to sit down, mouth falling open with a soft moan when your hips connect under the bath water. Shoko rolls hips, brushing her core with yours and grinning as she watches your mouth fall agape against Utahime’s breast. She does it again, smiling wide when a small whimper falls from your lips. Then she keeps doing it, keeps grinding herself against you until your thighs are trembling, and you’re nothing but a puddle clinging to Utahime’s waist.

And Utahime, she’s not any better off. Shoko’s fingers are slowly working her towards her release. She’s already been pent up, teased and turned on since you’d all gotten together at the nightclub. Now, as Shoko scissors her fingers inside her sex, presses her palm to her clit, Utahime only inches closer to the edge. 

The smaller woman pushes you from her chest, her hands cupping your face so she can capture your lips with hers. And you’re so overstimulated, your mind reeling while the water sloshes with every thrust of Shoko’s hips. Shoko gently cups one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, moaning as she feels your clits brush against each other repeatedly. She sighs sweetly watching as you ride her, all while Utahime rides her hand while her lips slot against yours.

“You’re so soft,” Utahime breathes, tongue pushing past your lips to press against your own wet muscle. One hand finds the back of Utahime’s head, fingers tangling in her soft tresses and you hear Shoko moan beneath you, her hips slamming into yours. Your tongue tangles messily with Utahime’s, all saliva and groans as Shoko moves you against her. Water splashes over the sides of the tub. You can’t be bothered to care about the mess you’re all making. Not when this feels so good, not when Utahime kisses you like this, not while Shoko makes her sob into your mouth, not when you can feel the delicious tension beginning to build in your core. 

“Fuck, ah – you’re both so sexy…” Shoko groans. “Love watching you kiss each other. So fucking sexy…Play with my tits while I fuck her, Hime.”

Without breaking the kiss, Utahime grasps one of Shoko’s breasts, tweaking her nipple and grinning against your mouth when Shoko gasps loudly. Her thrusts come faster, head falling back as she moans.

“Ahh…Shoko…you make such pretty sounds, baby.” Utahime coos and you whimper, eyes rolling back when your cunt slides against Shoko’s deliciously. “You do, too,” Utahime tells you, kissing you one last time before breaking away to lean down and kiss Shoko now.

All the while, Shoko never stops her movements. It’s like she’s an expert with her hands because she never loses hold of your hip, guiding you against her while she fucks her fingers into Utahime with her other hand. The room is full of the lewd sounds of you three whimpering, moaning, and whining at the shared intimacy. If there’s anyone in the rooms next to you, they may complain, but you’re not worried about that. You’re more concerned with the way Utahime’s voice rises several octaves, her cheeks pink and eyes squeezed shut.

“Gonna cum?” Shoko groans. “C’mere. C’mere, baby,” Shoko stops moving, gently pulling her fingers from Utahime’s pussy. She’s so gentle with the other woman as she adjusts herself so that she’s able to lean her head back enough for Utahime to stand between you and her, legs spread as she settles her knees on the edge of the tub, positioning her core over Shoko’s face. You’ve got a nice view of Utahime’s pretty round ass, and an even better view of Shoko pressing a passionate kiss to Utahime’s cunt, tongue running through her folds, lips wrapping around Utahime’s swollen bud.

Utahime gasps, moaning breathlessly when Shoko sucks her clit hard, then teases it with the tip of her tongue. Your hands play idly with Shoko’s nipples, eyes locked on the way Shoko devours Utahime, like she’s never tasted something sweeter in her life. It’s such an arousing vision. Utahime’s thighs begin to tremble and you’re grateful for the platform of the bath, where Utahime falls forward onto her hands. She’s on all fours, riding Shoko’s face. 

“Shokoooo, ooh–,” she hisses through gritted teeth. “Gonna fucking cum, babe,” she warns, and Shoko’s lips wrap around her clit again, humming loudly as she gives Utahime’s ass a harsh smack. This has Utahime’s body spasming, a high pitched cry leaving her as she reaches her peak. And as you watch Shoko drive Utahime over the edge with just her tongue, you’re unsure if it’s the water from the bath or Utahime’s release that’s running down Shoko’s face, absolutely soaking the taller woman’s chin.

“Fuck,” you moan quietly, eyes locked on the sexy sight before you. Your clit throbs beneath the surface. Maybe Shoko feels it, because she picks her movements back up after returning both hands to your hips. Your cunt slips and slides against Shoko’s again and this time, after watching Utahime fall apart on Shoko’s tongue, you’re even more aroused and eager to reach your own release. It’s not too far off, only getting closer as you watch Utahime shudder while Shoko continues making out with her pussy.

When it’s clear Utahime is spent, she climbs off of Shoko and slips back into the water, gliding through the liquid to position herself behind you where she begins kissing along your neck again. Her hands finds your breasts and she kneads them gently from behind, the motion such a contrast to the way Shoko is roughly fucking you again.

And once more, you’re all whimpering, hands roaming each other’s bodies. Grabbing soft flesh and squeezing anywhere you can that pulls sweet noises. You’re riding Shoko hard, desperately trying to cum. Each stroke of your clit against hers has you reeling, the sweet sensation pushing you closer and closer to your climax.

“I’m jealous,” Utahime pouts cutely. “Shoko gets to fuck you so good. I wanna fuck you, too.” 

You can’t do anything but whimper pathetically at the aspect of your legs crossed with Utahime’s. Shoko’s moans follow. “I wanna see you fuck her, baby.” She thrusts her hips up, a loud moan rushing past your lips. “You wanna fuck Hime, too? She eats pussy so good.”

“God, yes!” You cry, eyes closed as you focus on your impending climax.

“We have plenty of time tonight,” Utahime assures you. “Maybe we can even do this another time.”

“Oh, I’d love that. Get to see this pretty pussy again,” Shoko grunts, eyes locked on the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. “God, even in the water, your pussy is so fucking wet.”

Utahime groans, pouting further. “Stopppp, Shoko. I already said I’m–”

“Gonna cum,” Shoko whines. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum!”

Shoko leans forward suddenly, grasping you by the back of your neck and pulling you close so she can crash her lips into yours. The mixture of Shoko's taste and the tang of Utahime’s cum on Shoko’s tongue has your eyes rolling back, and you’re toppling over. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, the tension and build up throughout the night finally snapping the band that had been coiling in your core for the last several hours.

Your arms wrap around Shoko’s shoulders as you keen into each other's mouths, riding out your highs.

“Oh wow…” Utahime rubs small circles on your back. “That was…really hot.”

You’re catching your breath, Shoko still holding onto your hips tightly. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, a sweaty mess that somehow looks even more beautiful this way.

“We’re gonna need another bath,” she chuckles.

The night carries on with much of the same taking place. After the bath (and second bath), the three of you fall into bed, quickly finding yourselves tangled in the sheets.

++++++++++

The next morning, you’re awakened by the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the hotel table. Your head is pounding and you’re not sure if it’s the couple glasses of wine you had, or the dehydration from the many orgasms both women pulled from you last night. Probably a mixture of both.

Speaking of Shoko and Utahime, you stretch carefully in bed, remembering you all fell asleep with you sandwiched between them. But you’re left confused when you don’t feel a warm body on either side of you. You open your eyes slowly, wincing when the early morning rays of sun feel like a punch to the forehead. But even the aching in your skull isn’t enough for you to ignore that you appear to be alone in a hotel room that is not yours.

You crawl out of bed, peering around the room. “Hello?” You call out, and it feels like your voice is echoing, bouncing off the walls of this quiet room. You check the bathroom and find it’s empty. You check the closet and don’t see any evidence that clothes were inside last night. “Maybe they just had to leave,” you murmur to yourself. Because it helps soothe the nagging feeling you have sitting in the pit of your stomach at the moment.

Shrugging off the feeling, you go about your morning as you normally would. You shower, brush your teeth, dress in the clothes you’d come over in last night and plan on heading back home to report back to work.

Your phone is still buzzing when you’re about ready to head out. You finally pick it up, unlocking the device and seeing a plethora of missed calls as well as several text messages from some of your team members and associates.

Associate 1: Where are you?

Associate 1: 911!! Please pick up!

You roll your eyes, wondering what trouble they’d gotten into last night. What mess will you have to clean up this morning?

Associate 3: PLEASE ANSWER THE PHONE

Director: You need to call me.

Director: NOW.

Slight panic begins to set in, and you continue scrolling through your messages. There’s one from an unknown number, sent in the early hours of the morning. You open the message, eyes practically bulging out of your head when you see the contents.

Unknown: No hard feelings, okay? We really needed the exposure so we could get booked for more shows. Thanks for last night! - H

Another text comes through, and you think you might be fucking sick when you read it. It’s a link to a news article for…Jujutsu Journal? Stupid ass name, but it’s a gossip blog so what did you expect? 

The page has screenshots of a very familiar scene. You and the models in the bath. You and Utahime on the bed with your heads thrown back in ecstasy. A blurred pic, censoring what may be the dirtiest of all – you bent over the bed on all fours, with your face buried between Utahime’s legs while Shoko (and her lilac colored strap) destroy you from behind. 

Where the absolute hell would they get these?!

The headline reads:

TAKING RELATING TO THE PUBLIC TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL! Head Public Relations manager for one of Japan’s top fashion magazines is in quite a pickle! This morning Jujutsu Journal received EXCLUSIVE footage of her in various intimate positions with models Shoko Ieiri and Utahime Iori! Rumor has it these two are already booked and busy. Meanwhile, it looks like this Public Relations manager may soon be booted and broke! Want to see the tape? Click here to sign up for exclusive members only access!

The pieces begin to connect, your mind flashing back to just last night. The camera is right where you left it the night before. Well, where Utahime left it. But when your fingers push the button to open the tape cartridge, you find it empty. All the footage from the night before is gone! You feel like you may faint. All these years of being so careful, at least twenty steps ahead. All the progress you’ve made…gone.

And not just that! Now there’s a sextape of you three floating around the internet! Is that why Utahime was fumbling around with the camera? Why Shoko went out of her way to distract you? So that she could buy Utahime time to turn the camera on and hit record? Is that why they showed so much interest in you in the first place? Everything is beginning to make more and more sense, while simultaneously making less and less sense. You’re so confused.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Your phone buzzes. You’re scared to look, but you know you should.

“What…the…fuck…” You still can’t believe this is happening. To you of all people.

Your eyes see the name light up on your screen. It’s your boss.

There’s no way you’ll be able to spin this one. 

[rheya28]

The Crown [ Lounge + Bar] ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Welcome to The Crown, a haven of refined indulgence that seamlessly shifts from an upscale morning restaurant and lounge to a sophisticated evening gentlemen's club. In the daylight hours, experience culinary delights in an ambiance of polished dark wood accents, moody lights, and soft jazz.

As the sun sets, The Crown transforms into an intimate and stylish club, where discreet luxury meets thrilling entertainment. With an emphasis on sophistication, The Crown offers an unforgettable fusion of exquisite dining and sensual experiences in an atmosphere of opulence.

Additional Notes: ● In order for the adult club function to work, you must download the wicked whims mod [Download at your own risk]. ● This build does not have to be a club, it can be set as a restaurant, a lounge, or a bar. ● I am not 100% familiar with wicked whims so I will not be answering questions regarding the mod. However, I played around with it and did some playtesting as a club owner and everything is functioning correctly on my end. I advice that you look up tutorials if you're not sure to how this lot type works.

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ SPEED BUILD VIDEO

00:00 Beginning 00:02 Intro 1:25 Speed Build 15:52 Photos Sim's Featured in the video are by the talented @rhdweauni0 <3

➽ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: The Crown Lot type: Gentlemen's Club/Str*p Club [Can be set as a lounge, restaurant or bar] Lot size: 30x30 Location: Windenburg or San MyShuno

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi ● Wicked Whims by Turbodriver [optional: This is only required if you want to set this lot as a club] ● Functional Pool Table by Utopya

➽ CC LIST:

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! CharlyPancakes ● Miscellanea [books] ● Soak [ Floor pattern, wall lamp] Amelie ● Vintage Art print #3 Severinka ●Aura Bedroom - Ceiling lamp V01, V03 ● Ceiling lamp Alpha ●Industrial Light II Ceiling B, Ceiling D Sooky ● Dark Academia Victorian Oil Paintings 01 ● Horizontal Oil Painting - landscape ● Horizontal Oil Painting - Still Life ● Vertical Oil Painting - Landscape ● Vertical Oil Painting - Portrait ● Vertical Oil Painting - Still Life The Clutter Cat ● Dandy Diary pt 1, 2 ● Hello Horses FelixAndre ● Chateau [all ] ● Berlin pt 1 ● Colonial pt 2, 3 ● Florence pt 2 ● Gatsby ● Georgian ● Grove [ all ] ● London Interior ● Paris pt 2, 3 ● Soho pt 3 House of Harlix ● Harluxe ● Livin Rum ● Orjanic Harrie ● Brownstone [all] ● Baysic ● Brutalist ● Coastal pt 2, 3, 8 ● Klean pt 3 ● Kwatei ● Octave pt 2 ● Shop the look pt 1, 2 ● Spoons pt 3 ● Jardane Kiwisim4 ● Block house dining [dining chairs] Lilac Creative ● The classic Collection Little Dica ● The even Grander Piano Myshunosun ● Garden Stories [patio lights] ● Lottie [candle] ● Simmify pt 2 [book clutter] Pierisim ● Coldbrew pt 3 ● Combles [chair] ● David Apartment pt 1, 2 ● Domain du close pt 2, 3 ● MCM pt 1, 3 ● Oak House pt 4 ● Tilable ● Winter Garden pt 1, 2 ● Wood Land Ranch pt 3 Plush Pixels ● Parisian Apartment [coffee table only] Simcredible ● Bossa Nova Ceiling lamp Simplistic ● Rusticlife area rug Sixam ● Boho Bathroom [floor tiles] Taurus Design ● Lilith Chilling Areas MycupofCC ● The Modernist [wall lamp] Tuds ● Ind Syboulette ● Ratatouille [Sign ] Utopya ● Pool Table [mod]

● Tray File: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: Applez ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Patreon: Rheya28 ● Youtube: Rheya28__

[esouliie]

… you should stay in my good graces⋆𐙚₊

(actress!wanda x fem!reader)

tags | romantic asf, a little hurt/comfort, wanda maximoff needs a hug, reader is a reassuring simp, together? they’re both gross horny freaks :3 (18+)

It’s late, around 9 PM, and the room is dimly lit, casting long shadows that dance along the walls. You’re lounging on the couch of the hotel suite, feeling the gentle buzz of the wine you’ve been sipping. She’s there with you, still dressed in her suit for her upcoming movie’s press junket. Her hair, now a shade of molten chocolate, falls loosely around her face, with random pieces tucked behind her ears. She’s wearing minimal makeup, despite her lips being coated in a subtle reddish oil, and her eyes shimmer gold with every bat of her lashes.

The evening has been easygoing since arriving back, a perfect blend of quiet conversation and shared silences as your girlfriend winds down from being social. You watch her as she took another sip of her wine, her eyes glinting in the soft light. Suddenly, she sets her glass down and rises from the couch with a playful glint in her eye. "I want to play a song for you," she announces with a smile.

You watch as she heads for the old record player tucked in the corner, a vintage piece that had caught her eye the moment you checked in last night. The suite modern charm was evident in every detail, from the heated floors to the spacious kitchen, but the record player, with its polished wood and brass accents, seemed to be the centerpiece of the room. Wanda had been drawn to it immediately, her fingers tracing the smooth surface, a look of nostalgia softening her features.

She flips through the small collection of vinyl records stacked beside it, her brow furrowing in concentration as she searches for the perfect track. After a moment, she lets out a triumphant little sound, pulling out a record with an old, faded cover. The worn label reveals the artist: Sam Cooke. She handles it with reverence, lowering it onto the turntable with a practiced hand. There's a small, satisfied hum as she brings the needle down, and the soft crackle that follows fills the room like the first breath of life. For a moment, everything is still, suspended in the quiet, until the first sweet, soulful notes of "Cupid" drift into the air.

The melody is timeless, a rich cascade of sound that wraps around you like an old, familiar blanket. You recognise the tune, though it's been years since you last heard it. The notes are tender and full of emotion, evoking memories of a time long past yet strangely present in this moment. The room, bathed in the warm glow of the lamps adorned around the space, seems to swell with the sound, the music curling around the furniture, the walls, and finally, the two of you, as if drawing you closer together.

Wanda turns back to you, her eyes bright with anticipation, waiting for your reaction. She knows you love this song, and she loves it too, perhaps even more.

“I love this song.” She reaches out a hand, gesturing for you to join her. You stand, taking it without hesitation, feeling the warmth of her fingers intertwining with yours. The music flows between you like a current, and Wanda begins to sway, drawing you into the rhythm. Her voice, soft and unguarded, rises to meet the melody as she sings along with Cooke:

“Cupid, draw back your bow...”

With her eyes locked on yours, the world around you fades into the background. The record spins, the music lilting through the room as you both begin to dance, a slow, easy movement that feels as natural as breathing.

You follow her lead, letting the song guide your steps. Wanda’s voice, sweet and slightly off-key, weaves through the music, adding her own touch to the tune. There's something so intimate, so pure in the way she sings to you, for you, her voice a quiet confession wrapped in melody.

“You know," she murmurs, her voice a soft whisper against the instruments, "I've never felt like this with anyone before."

"I feel the same, Wands. Every time I'm with you, it's like the world finally makes sense."

She tilts her head down slightly, her eyes searching yours. "Do you ever wonder if this is too good to be true? Like, maybe we're dreaming, and one day we'll wake up, and it’ll all be gone?"

You stop swaying for a moment, cupping her face gently in your hands. "No, Wanda. This is real. We’re real." You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, feeling her relax into your touch, “You’re never getting rid of me, baby.”

Her hands move to your back, pulling you closer, as if she needs to feel you, to confirm that you’re really here. "Promise me," she whispers, her voice trembling just slightly.

You press your lips to hers again, a gentle, lingering kiss that holds all the promises you can’t yet put into words. “I promise,” you whisper against her, “let me show you.”

Her worries melt away, replaced by a deepening trust as your hands run through her hair, pulling her impossibly closer. The pressure of your lips increases, growing bolder as you feel her responding to you, her own lips parting slightly, inviting you to explore further. A soft sigh escapes her, and it echoes in the stillness around you, a sound that sends a shiver of warmth through your entire body.

The kiss grows, building from that initial, tender connection into something more passionate, more urgent. You can feel the tension in your chest, a yearning that rises and swells with every heartbeat, driving you to close any remaining distance between you. Your other hand slides to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Unable to feel the heat of her body through the thick suit jacket, your hands trail inside the material, mapping the thin waist of the taller woman.

She’s wearing nothing underneath.

You deepen the kiss further, your tongue brushing against her lower lip, seeking entrance, a silent request that she grants as her lips part further, allowing you in. Her hands find their way to your shoulders, gripping lightly as she leans in. The kiss is no longer just gentle; it’s filled with a fervent need, an unspoken desire that’s been building between you since the beginning of the night. Since you first saw her in this outfit. She’s kissing you back with equal intensity, every movements matching yours, the both of you lost in this moment, hands groping all and everything you can.

“I want these off,” Wanda husks, pupils blown entirely, as she hurriedly pulls at the zip of your jeans, “… now.”

You don’t bother helping the older woman, as you fling your arms around her to pull the jacket off her toned shoulders, a swift competition to see who can undress who first. You managed to discard the jacket before she can shove her hand down your pants, your fingers already groping at her chest. Your lips making their way down from her neck down to her breasts, lapping at the pebbled nipples before you.

With her hand finally between your legs, stroking ever so languidly, she guides you back towards the couch. You’re too distracted to notice the change until you’re on your back and she’s on top of you. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth before you could protest, hips doing most of the work appeasing you, as she thrusts ever so slowly. Giving up, your legs fall open, calves wrapping around the brunette as if to keep her flush against you.

The kiss comes to an end, much to your dismay, with a singular strand of saliva hanging between you both.

“You’re such a brat. You joke, hands smoothing over her ass, pulling forward.

“Says the one who was racing to undress me first.” She immediately retorts, and you push your luck, retaliating by smacking her ass. She gasps before cutting you a sharp look. Grinding harder against you, her head bends to kiss along your pulse. Her canines sink into the soft skin, a sharp sting following closely before her warm tongue laps along the bruised skin.

“Do that again and I won’t fuck you.”

Your mouth opens a few times, but you weren't sure what to say. You only managed a please, which felt pathetic even to your own ears. The laughing quirk of her lips revealed how little Wanda takes you seriously, and why would she? You were already trembling, unable to form a single thought.

So easy.

Turning your head so she could press her lips against yours, she was licking into your mouth, just separating enough so you didn't suffocate, and even then, it did nothing to help the threads of spit remaining between you both.

But it didn't appear that she was going to stop anytime soon, as her fingers trail up your thigh until she reaches your underwear. Her lips twist into a smile at the feeling of the damp fabric, molding to you. Lithe digits sneak inside, spreading your lips, grazing just under your clit and then down low. “This all for me, baby?”

The feeling so overwhelming, you’re unable to reply. Wanda merely laughs before pressing into you, revelling in how easily you swallowed her fingers, hips moving in time with her. The rooms fills with sounds of breathless moans and her fingers fucking you, her other hand snaked under your top to pinch at your nipples.

“Feels so good.” You manage to stutter out, and bring her down to your lips. Once again, locked in another fervent kiss, moans spilling into her mouth.

A knock on the door jolts you out of your reverie, lips smacking as you pull away, eyes drawn towards the source. Panic surges in your chest as you remember earlier Wanda had invited some of her cast mates to your suite for a games night. Helplessly, you attempt to get your girlfriend to stop, your hand curling around her wrist pumping into you, but she didn’t. Instead, she speeds up, fingers now sliding in at a bruising pace in comparison to her earlier slower one. Your knees were trembling, cunt pulsing around her rigid knuckles, as her thumb circles your clit desperately.

“Gotta be quick, baby,” She huffs, energy depleting with each thrust, whispering terms of endearment as you convulsed, muffling your sounds of pleasure into her neck. Her chest heaves, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on her skin as she hovers over you.

You couldn't help the way your body shudders, so sensitive, every nerve ending screaming for her to stop and yet for her to continue. Trembling a little less now, her fingers slip out of you cautiously, soothing along your flushed skin despite being coated in you. She studies the room accessing the damage before turning back towards you, noticing you’re already looking up at her, the buzz of your orgasm fading away slightly.

To be honest, you didn’t want games night to happen.

You wanted to spend the rest of your night wrapped up in your girlfriend’s arms, listening to her steady heartbeat as she held you close. But you knew Wanda was shy, and in this industry, she struggled to make friends. It was a hard world to navigate, full of people who wanted something from her or who couldn’t look past her fame to see the wonderful person she was beneath it all. You didn’t want to get in the way of that, all because you were feeling needy and wanting her sole attention. It was her night. Wanda deserved to have friends, people she could laugh with, people who would remind her that not everyone wanted something from her. So, despite the ache in your chest, you pushed your feelings aside, biting down on your lip, trying to suppress the soft whimper that threatens to escape, but she notices.

She always notices.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she coos, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, and then your cheek, and then your nose. Her lips were warm, comforting, grounding you back to the present. “You did so well, sweetheart.” She leans down placing one last kiss – this time upon your lips, “You know I love you, right?”

You nod, a shy smile curling at the corner of your mouth. “I love you too.”

“Good,” she hums softly, her voice carrying a note of finality. “Now, come on,” her hand behind your back guiding you to your feet, “help me tidy up?”

You groan playfully, your muscles protesting as you try to follow her lead. You wobble when you stand, a reminder of just how thoroughly she’d loved you, and she chuckles, steadying you with a hand on your waist

“Easy there.” She teases, holding tight to your waist. You feel her breath tickle the top of your head, and then, with a gentleness that contrasts the intensity of earlier, she places a chaste kiss upon your tousled hair, before collecting her jacket and buttoning it up around herself like before.

"Oh, Tony’s gonna have a field day when he sees you," she murmurs, the amusement in her voice impossible to miss. You can almost picture it now—Tony’s raised eyebrows, the sly grin that would stretch across his face when he spots the two of you looking disheveled as ever, and the sex joke already bursting free from his smart ass mouth.

“Whatever, Maximoff.” You push her away and in the direction of the door, “go let them in.”

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This incredible 1879 Victorian in Little Falls, NY would be over a $1M anywhere else. This is a bargain - 8bds, 3ba, $550K (cut $199K, b/c it hasn't sold- I posted it once before).

This entrance alone. Look at the tile on the outside, the wood on the interior. This wood is magnificent.

Original stairs and look at the etched glass in that door.

Look at the gothic feature over this fireplace. There are paintings on the side panels- incredible. The details in this home are stunning.

This sitting room is nice and light. Fancy gold ceiling detail.

The dining room is incredible- look at the walls, the fireplace, the wainscoting- is that another fireplace in the corner? Gorgeous wood ceiling, inlaid floors, this room is absolutely magnificent.

In the kitchen, they combined old and new. They made it light and cheerful, but look at the original stove. Amazing.

Beautiful original pantry. Wow.

Stained glass window and more gorgeous woodwork going up the stairs.

This large bedroom has plenty of room for 2 fireside chairs.

And, typical of Victorians, it still has the original sink in the room.

Lovely room with the typical bedroom fireplace. They usually have this exact same one in all the upstairs Victorian bedrooms.

Beautiful bedroom with an alcove.

Wonderful vintage bath. Look at the tub- definitely original.

Bath #2 was completely modernized. Love the pedestal sink and floor tiles.

Stairs to the 3rd level.

The upper bedrooms are pretty nice.

They're a little darker, but very Victorian.

Here's a cute attic sitting room.

And, the 3rd bath is up here. This is so vintage- look at the sink.

Look at that- it has a large sun room, too.

I wish that they would've shown the inside of the fabulous carriage house. This home is so worth the price.

0.37 Acre lot

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/553-Garden-St-Little-Falls-NY-13365/30515833_zpid/?