#YES SHE'S WEARING HEELS 😭

[tsunael]

Send 👀 to see them in something that would make people stop and stare.

screenshot meme | accepting!!

[xxcherrycherixx]

Hey btw do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior 'brooklynn and soyona's height difference'?

[skitskatdacat63]

I don't think I'll ever reach the peak gender again of wearing a 3 piece suit to prom

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex

୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!

Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?

And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.

But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”

The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?

“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.

“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.

Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.

You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.

Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.

Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”

He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.

His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.

"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."

He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.

The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"

Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?

“Sure.”

“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”

Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”

You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.

“I take it you come here often?”

The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”

The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."

"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."

He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.

"Nanami, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."

It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.

Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.

You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.

“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.

Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”

“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.

Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”

The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.

“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”

“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be. 

You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.

The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”

“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?” 

“Yeah, I guess it did.”

“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”

“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”

You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”

He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.

“Why go through the trouble?”

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”

A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”

Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”

“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”

Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”

“Good. You look fun-deprived.”

Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”

“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”

He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”

Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”

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tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82

[winxanity-ii]

LIKE WHAT YOU SEE?

ship: fashion designer!gojo x fem!model!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimualtion; p in v ; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 6.6k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀) A/N: Hey, bubbly-bear! just wanted to let you know i've moved from my my alt account to my main one, so i'm posting your request here…

Request:Hello! I had a lil gojo x reader idea but if you aren’t vibing with it please dont feel like you have to write it, or change it how you see fit! BUT I feel like Guess (ft. Billie E.) By Charlie xcx is so Gojo coded and I would love to see a fic based off of it if possible :)

p.s. mwaaaaahhhhh, thx you so much for being my first request, hope i did you justice 😩✨

This line from the song just stood out to me and i just had to write it:

I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it Pull it to the side and get all up in it Kiss it, ride it, can I fit it?

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Turn your head like that—yes, perfect! Raise your chin a little more. Hold it!" The head photographer's voice cut through the organized chaos, every word precise and demanding. "Lighting! Can we adjust the back light, it's catching too much glare!" Another barked command as assistants scurried to fix the harsh spotlight casting an overexposed halo on you. "Makeup! Fix the lipstick; it's smudged." The pace had been relentless, as it always was on set. The camera had clicked, capturing each second of your endurance, but all you could focus on was the way your body ached.

Your feet, crammed into designer heels, screamed for relief, and your back burned from holding poses longer than it felt natural. You shifted your weight slightly, hoping no one noticed as the clicks of the camera went on like rapid fire.

"Alright, people, ten-minute break!" Finally, the head photographer clapped his hands, giving everyone the much-needed signal to stop.

A bell rang faintly in the background, and your shoulders slumped as you let out a groan.

You dropped the strained pose you had been holding for what felt like an eternity. You rolled your neck, feeling the tension snap and release in your joints.

The lights dimmed slightly as Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuji sauntered over from the swimwear shoot, and you couldn't help but notice how their outfits screamed for attention—both in completely different ways.

Nobara was in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit, the top barely enough to cover her small bust, accentuating her slim waist. The delicate straps dug into her skin as she pulled at them, clearly annoyed, though the outfit highlighted her toned frame with every step she took.

The bottom piece clung to her hips, just barely covering enough to maintain some modesty, with high-cut sides that emphasized her long legs.

Despite the discomfort written across her face, Nobara moved with confidence, her slender figure not going unnoticed by the photographers still milling around.

She scrunched her nose. "This swimsuit is killing me," she muttered, fingers fidgeting with the ties around her waist. "Honestly, whose idea was it to make swimwear this uncomfortable?"

Yuji, in contrast, had an air of ease about him, rocking a pair of matching swim trunks that coordinated with Nobara's outfit—an intentional design that somehow made their shoot feel like a playful, couples-themed editorial.

His bare chest gleamed under the studio lights, each of his perfectly sculpted abs on display as though carved by a sculptor. His body was toned yet muscular, the kind of physique that didn’t need fancy clothes to stand out.

With sun-kissed skin and that infectious grin, Yuji could have made wearing anything look effortless.

"C'mon, Nobara, we don't have that much longer. Besides, you look great," Yuji said, his voice lighthearted as always.

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, says the guy who could wear a trash bag and still smile like it's no big deal."

You let out a quiet chuckle as Yuji gave you a wink before being called away to review some of the shots. He shot you a playful smile over his shoulder as he walked off, his broad back flexing slightly under the pressure of moving around in the hot lights.

"Ugh, I swear, if Yuji keeps this up, I'm going to barf," Nobara muttered, shaking her head as she sidled up next to you, arms crossed over her chest.

The two of you made your way toward the refreshments table, where the scattered models and assistants buzzed like bees around a honey pot.

You could feel the material of your own outfit shift as you moved, the delicate knitted vest you wore slightly hugging your upper body. It was all part of the 'clean girl' aesthetic your stylist had chosen for you—a knitted cream-colored vest over a crisp white blouse, paired with a pleated schoolgirl skirt that swayed with every step.

It was simple, yet chic—the kind of outfit that made you feel both elegant and casual at the same time.

Yet, despite its light, airy look, the long hours standing in the heels were starting to make your feet scream. The snug fit of the vest only heightened the strain on your tired muscles, adding to the sense of exhaustion.

Nobara leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming as if she was about to share the juiciest tidbit of gossip she had yet. "So, did you hear about Kaori and that photographer? Apparently, they got caught in one of the back dressing rooms."

You raised a brow, barely hiding your amusement. "Kaori? The one who's been eyeing everyone since day one?."

"Oh, and you didn't hear this from me," Nobara continued, lowering her voice even more, "but Sumi told me that Yuji's been getting cozy with that new model, Megumi. You know, the quiet one? Well, they—"

You groaned, cutting her off. "Don't you ever get tired of knowing all the messy things?"

Nobara rolled her eyes dramatically, her lips curling into a smirk. "Never~" she said, before nodding toward the side entrance. Her voice took on a mischievous edge as she added, "Just like I know you never get tired of denying that your new stylist wants to fuck you."

You practically choked, your eyes widening as the words hit you. "W-What?" you sputtered, your face heating up. You let out a shaky laugh, then coughed, trying to gather yourself. "Stop saying that…"

Nobara's smirk only grew wider, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Oh, come on. The man practically undresses you with his eyes every time he's around. You can't tell me you don't notice the way he looks at you. The man's got designs on more than just your clothes, babe."

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and you averted your gaze, unsure how to respond.

It was hard to deny that your stylist's hands lingered just a bit too long during fittings, or that his gaze seemed a little too intense when he adjusted the fabrics on your body.

The clean, tailored looks he designed for you always felt more intimate than the pieces he created for other models. But surely, it was just part of his meticulous nature, right?

"I-It's just professional," you stammered, glancing down at the drink in your hand, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the growing knot in your stomach. "He's focused on the designs, Nobara. That's it."

Nobara snorted, giving you a knowing look. "Yeah, okay. If by ‘designs’ you mean figuring out how to get under your clothes, then sure. But I mean, I'm not complaining. If I were in your shoes, I'd fuck him."

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over you both, and you didn't need to look up to know who it was. You felt his presence before you saw him.

There, leaning casually against the side of the refreshment table, was Gojo Satoru, the man in question.

His signature smirk played on his lips as those piercing, ice-blue eyes of his scanned over you over his shades, and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it lingered on your skirt.

"Ladies," Satoru drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too scandalous?"

Nobara raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing look before stepping back. "Oh no, nothing at all. We were just talking about your... designs," she said with a sly grin before stepping back. "Guess, I'll leave you two to it," she teased, nudging you as she walked away.

And just like that, you were left alone with him, heart racing as you met his eyes. His grin only widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"So..." Satoru murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in slightly. "Anything you'd like to confess?"

Your throat went dry, and you could only shake your head, praying that he hadn't overheard Nobara's playful remarks.

But judging by the gleam in his eyes, you had a feeling he probably had.

Your heart raced as you tried to compose yourself, swallowing back the nerves rising in your throat. You forced a smile, though it felt shaky at best. "I don't have anything to confess," you said, attempting to keep your voice light. "Is there anything you need help with?"

Satoru's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming as he straightened up, his hands casually slipping into the pockets of his perfectly tailored trousers. "As a matter of fact," he drawled, "you could help me with something."

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Before you could ask what he meant, two of Satoru's assistants appeared at his side, as if on cue, each one wearing the kind of professionalism that didn't quite mask the urgency in their steps.

Without explanation, they began to gently but firmly usher you toward the changing quarters.

"W-Wait—what's going on?" you stammered, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru, who followed behind leisurely, his long strides giving him an air of complete control. "Why am I changing? I thought my shoot was almost over?"

"Oh, nothing much," Satoru sing-songed, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin. "I just had a chat with the higher-ups about pushing up the date for a few of our theme releases. Ya'know, rearranging which models get which looks."

Your confusion only deepened, and you blinked owlishly, trying to make sense of his words as you were guided toward a small room at the end of the hallway. "But—what does that have to do with—"

You trailed off as you stepped into the changing room and saw the mannequin sitting in the center. It was draped in an outfit that made your breath catch in your throat. A short leather miniskirt, sleek and shimmering, paired with a crop bodycon top that clung to the mannequin’s torso like a second skin

The entire ensemble was a bold combination of black and silver, with metallic bangles adorning the arms and a choker embedded with silver and black accents.

But what truly caught your attention was the soft sheen of baby blue that ran through the outfit—a shade that was eerily similar to the blue of Satoru's eyes.

You stared at the outfit for a moment, taking in the platform boots that completed the look, their towering heels intimidating yet alluring. The whole ensemble screamed nightlife, clubbing, a world of flashing lights and pulsing music.

It was striking, to say the least.

The assistants wasted no time, setting down various items on a nearby table while preparing the room for your quick change. But you stood frozen, blinking again as realization slowly dawned.

Satoru leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an almost lazy amusement.

"You're joking," you muttered, half in disbelief.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

You glanced back at the mannequin, the black and silver catching the light in a way that made the outfit seem even more eye-catching.

The baby blue accents shimmered faintly, bringing your thoughts right back to Satoru, his confident smirk and those eyes that seemed to follow your every move.

The outfit looked like it had been designed for you—and only you.

The assistants were already moving around, gesturing for you to start changing, but your mind was still reeling. "You... moved up the schedule?"

"Had a feeling this look was perfect for you," Satoru said casually, pushing off the doorframe and walking further into the room. "Wanted to see it on you sooner rather than later."

You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your chest as you stared at the mannequin once more.

The way Satoru's gaze lingered on you sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if this entire thing had been orchestrated just for his amusement, his design, his vision.

The assistants handed you the top, a fitted crop that shimmered in the light, the baby blue accents standing out against the metallic silver.

You reluctantly grabbed it from them as they moved off to remove the other pieces from the mannequin.

The room felt warmer all of a sudden, like the air had thickened, and you couldn’t shake the tension prickling at the back of your neck.

You lifted your gaze only to find Satoru already staring at you, his eyes locked on yours in a way that made your breath hitch. You cleared your throat, your voice shaky as you tried to break the spell. "Shouldn't you leave? I need to change."

Instead of moving, his lips curved into that trademark smirk that always made your stomach flip. "I'll have to stay and oversee things. You know, just to make sure nothing goes wrong. I can swoop in and fix anything if needed."

Your face burned, heat rushing to your cheeks as his words lingered in the air.

You weren't naïve. You'd worked with dozens of stylists before, all of them meticulous, always staying to make sure the fit was perfect. But none of them ever made your skin tingle the way Satoru did.

None of them ever watched you like they were imagining a thousand different things beneath the clothes. And none of them ever made you feel like you were burning alive from the inside out with just a look.

Heart pounding, you turned away, hoping to escape his gaze. You began undressing, slipping out of your current outfit.

Each movement felt amplified, like you could feel the air around you, charged with tension. You reached behind yourself, trying to steady your breathing as you fumbled with the zipper.

You could practically feel his eyes on you, mapping out your body, lingering on every curve as if he could see right through the fabric.

Your skin prickled, the sensation of his gaze making it hard to even think straight. Every breath felt labored, every second stretched too long.

As you reached behind to unclip your bralette, your fingers trembling slightly, you felt a pair of hands cover yours—large, warm, and deliberate.

The shock froze you in place, your breath catching in your throat.

"Allow me to help you with that…" His voice was low, velvety, and it sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear.

The world narrowed to that moment, the heat of his presence overwhelming your senses. His fingers gently brushed against yours as he unhooked your bralette, the touch feather-light but filled with an unspoken promise.

You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, the room suddenly too small, too hot, with Satoru towering behind you, his hands so close, too close.

Every nerve in your body screamed in protest, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest as a low pulse of desire curled through your veins.

His hands slid away as he stepped back, giving you room, but the mark of his touch lingered long after he'd let go.

It left you breathless, the space between you charged with something dangerous, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air.

Satoru's smirk never wavered, his eyes still locked onto yours in the reflection of the mirror. "There..." he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "...All done."

You stuttered out a soft, breathless, "Thank you," barely able to get the words out before Satoru turned on his heel. His presence seemed to consume the room, but as he barked an order to one of his assistants, the pressure finally lifted.

"Adjust the lighting for the next setup! And I want the backdrop changed in five minutes!" Satoru's voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. With one last glance over his shoulder at you, he strode away, leaving the room in a whirlwind of activity.

As soon as he was gone, it felt like you could finally breathe again. The air in the room cooled, the weight of his lingering presence fading, though not entirely.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you pulled the leather skirt up over your hips, the fabric snug against your skin. Satoru's assistant helped you with the bodycon top, tugging it into place, adjusting the hem and smoothing out the fabric as it clung to your curves.

The outfit was bold—almost too bold—but it fit like a second skin, highlighting every line of your body in the way only Satoru's designs could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of camera clicks, flashing lights, and endless posing. Hours slipped by, the sun gradually lowering as the shoot continued, stretching longer than expected.

Nanami Kento, the photographer overseeing everything, was a perfectionist. His no-nonsense attitude left no room for error, and his eye for detail was unmatched.

He had insisted on waiting for the natural dusk light, arguing that it would complement the metallic sheen of your outfit and bring out the best in the overall composition.

You had worked with Kento before. His bluntness and unwavering pursuit of perfection made him a tough taskmaster, but he was one of the best in the industry.

Shoots paired with him always led to increased success. His images captured not just the clothes, but the mood, the essence of the model wearing them.

He and Satoru were at the top of their game right now, the dynamic power duo behind many successful campaigns, and you couldn't deny how they both pushed you further than anyone else ever had.

"…And… that's a wrap!" Kento's voice finally cut through the endless camera clicks, sharp and definitive. The faint ring of a bell followed, signaling the end of the shoot.

You exhaled a long, relieved breath, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders.

The shoot had taken the remainder of the day, from midday to the last golden rays of dusk.

The combination of Satoru's exacting demands—making you pose in just the right way to show off the outfit—and Kento's insistence on perfect lighting meant you'd spent hours standing, twisting, and holding uncomfortable poses.

The tightness in your back and shoulders made it clear how long you had been at it. Your feet ached in the platform boots, and your muscles screamed for rest.

As the assistants began to pack away the equipment, the space slowly emptied out. The other models and staff had long since finished their own shoots and left, leaving only you and a skeleton crew behind.

The studio, once alive with chaos, was now eerily quiet, the low hum of final tasks being completed the only sound in the background.

You peeled yourself away from the set and made your way back to the dressing room, feeling the tightness of the leather skirt with every step.

The corridors were deserted now, with most of the team having wrapped up hours ago. The silence was almost jarring after the noise and flurry of the day.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body protesting as you moved.

Finally, you reached your dressing room, the door creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The sight of the empty space—the vanity mirror now bare, clothes and shoes scattered—was a welcome relief.

The day had been long, but now you could unwind.

As you closed the door behind you, the quiet settled over you like a blanket, offering you the peace you desperately needed.

You stumbled into the room, barely keeping yourself upright as exhaustion weighed down your limbs. Practically dead on your feet, you began peeling off the clothes that had felt glued to your body for the last several hours.

The crop top slipped off first, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

You didn't care where it landed as you walked over to the couch in the center of the room, facing a large squared mirror. Each step felt like a weight being lifted from your sore muscles.

A cool draft brushed against your bare torso, making you shiver slightly as it passed over the sheen of sweat from the long day. Your fingers worked at the accessories next, unfastening the bangles around your wrists and dropping them carelessly.

The metal clanked against the floor, loud in the otherwise quiet space. You massaged your sore wrists, the cool air soothing the raw skin where the jewelry had pressed tight against you.

Your fingers then moved to the choker at your neck, tugging it free and letting it fall beside the rest, relieved to feel the soft touch of air against your throat.

Your mind began to drift, wandering somewhere far away from the chaos of the day. You thought about what you'd do when you got home.

Maybe snack on those yogurt bites you found at the grocery store earlier that week. Or maybe you can finally binge-watch that series you'd been meaning to catch up on.

The thought made you feel a little lighter.

Hell, you can even spend tomorrow doing absolutely nothing, you have nothing booked!

You were right in the middle of imagining your lazy day ahead, fingers working the clasp of your bralette, when the door creaked open behind you.

"Hey! I'm—" Your arms instinctively rose to catch your slipping bra before it could fall completely. Your heart raced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

You looked up at the large mirror in front of you, eyes wide, only to lock gazes with Satoru, lounging casually against the doorway as if he had all the time in the world.

"—undressing," you finished, your voice dropping to a shaky whisper.

Satoru's lips curved into a faint smirk, his gaze shameless as it raked over your disheveled appearance. He tilted his head slightly, looking over his shades at the scattered accessories and top on the floor. "You know," he said, his voice light with a playful edge, "you really shouldn't leave my designs lying around like that. It's almost disrespectful."

For a moment, you thought he'd bend down to pick up the items—his creations, after all. But instead, he strolled right past them, making his way toward you.

Your breath hitched, your body freezing in place as his steps closed the distance between you.

Satoru's eyes, usually filled with playful mischief, were darker now, more intense as they followed the lines of your form.

He moved with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt. And as he reached your side, standing just behind you, his presence loomed, filling the small space with the heat of his gaze.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the cool draft that had once been a relief now doing little to cool the flush rising across your skin.

Satoru stepped even closer, the heat radiating from him making the cool draft on your bare skin feel like a distant memory. His presence was overwhelming, filling the small room until all you could focus on was the warmth seeping from him and the way his gaze lingered on your reflection in the mirror.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, almost idle, "a lot of my best designs… they're not the ones I spend weeks perfecting." His words drifted through the air like a secret. He raised a hand, his fingertips brushing lightly against the faint indents the choker had left on your neck. The touch was barely there, yet it sent a shiver running down your spine. "No… the ones that really stand out," he continued, "are the ones that light up in my mind every time you fall into my vision."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in closer, his chest now just inches from your back.

The heat from his body wrapped around you like a second skin, and you watched him through the mirror, mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he spoke.

His hand, warm and deliberate, trailed slowly down your arm, his fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that felt both comforting and dangerous.

"You're my muse," he said, almost as if speaking to himself, lost in the thought. "Every second I spend watching you, seeing you wear my designs, it's nothing but inspiration." His hand continued to drift lower, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist before sliding back up, pulling you just slightly, coaxing your body into his.

Your breath grew heavier, chest rising and falling with each shallow inhale as you were drawn back against him, the solid warmth of his chest pressing into your bare back.

Your gaze flickered to the mirror, watching the scene unfold before you—his hand resting lightly on your waist, his eyes tracing the outline of your form as if committing every curve, every inch of you, to memory.

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your ear, and it made your head spin, your thoughts running wild.

"Every touch," he murmured, his lips brushing just above your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Every glance…" His voice dropped, becoming something darker, heavier. "I can't stop thinking about how perfectly you fit into my designs. Like you were made for them—or maybe… they were made for you."

His hand trailed down your arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and you watched him in the mirror, breath hitching in your throat. Then, his lips ghosted over your ear again, the warmth of his breath making you tremble as he purred, "But you know… I keep thinking about something else…"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you felt him shift closer, his chest now flush against your back. The air between you crackled with tension, thick and almost suffocating, and yet you couldn't pull away—you didn't want to.

His hands pressed against your waist as he lowered his voice to something almost sinful. "…How perfectly you'll fit around me."

The words slipped from his lips, dripping with raw, undeniable desire, every word reverberating through your skin, hitting you like a tidal wave. Your breath stilled in your lungs, heat coursing through your body as your mind raced.

Wait a minute—what's… b-but—

His arms tightened around you as his mouth hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you feel it too," he groaned, his voice low, growling with need as his fingers dug into your hips. "Tell me you want it… just as badly as I do."

Finally, your mouth seemed to catch up with your thoughts. "S-Satoru—"

Your voice once again falls away as Satoru's arms tightened around you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. You felt his chest rise and fall rapidly, pressing into your back, his grip around your waist possessive, firm.

Then, in a voice so raw, so desperate it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered, "Can I... have you?"

The words tumbled from his lips in a near whimper, laden with a hunger that bordered on pleading. His breath hitched, his forehead brushing against the back of your neck as if even he was losing control of the space between you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your mind trying to process everything, yet failing to hold onto any coherent thought. His words, the way they sounded so needy, left you breathless.

You watched him in the mirror, his reflection almost ghostly in the low light of the room. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as they lingered on your form, and his lips, parted slightly, looked dangerously close to speaking something sinful, something that would push you over the edge.

The room was silent except for his panting breaths in your ear. You could feel his need in the way his arms wrapped around you, in the way his fingers pressed just a little too tightly into your skin.

"Say yes..." he breathed, his voice low and pleading, his lips now trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat with every soft, almost teasing touch. "Please... just say yes."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place as your mind blocking out everything else but Satoru.

The sound of him, the feel of him, the way his voice came out in that almost whimpering tone—it consumed you, leaving no room for anything else but him.

Finally, a breathless, barely audible "yes" escaped your lips, the word trembling from your mouth like a whimper, your resolve crumbling under the intensity of the moment.

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Satoru. His wicked smirk grew, a gleam in his eyes as he dipped his head lower, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before dragging his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your skin.

The heat of his breath against your neck sent shivers racing down your spine, making your entire body tense.

"Good girl~" he purred softly into your ear, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pulled you down onto the couch, his movements fluid and effortless. You landed in his lap, your back pressed firmly against his chest, legs bent and pulled up on either side of him, facing the mirror.

our thighs immediately began to burn from the stretch, the leather skirt you wore sliding up all the way, exposing the lace underwear beneath—the same light blue that matched the bralette you'd worn earlier.

The delicate fabric contrasted sharply with the heat of the moment, and your face flushed in embarrassment as your eyes caught the sight of a small wet patch there.

Your heart raced as you tried instinctively to close your legs, but before you could, he gently tapped your thighs with his fingers, his smirk never faltering. "Aht aht," he scolded lightly, his tone playful but firm, making it clear that he was in control.

His arms slid under your legs, lifting them slightly and pulling them farther apart.

The stretch made you gasp, thighs burning as he forced you all the way back against his chest, your body now fully reclined into him.

His grip was strong but not painful, holding you in place as his breath ghosted over the side of your face.

In the mirror, you saw it all—your legs spread wide, your flushed face, and Satoru's darkened gaze fixed on you, his expression one of total control. His was voice, low and teasing, rumbling against your ear. "Look at you... perfect," he murmured, holding you tightly against him, his arms securing you in place, his presence overwhelming.

The reflection showed more than just your vulnerability—it was the power he had over you, and the way he reveled in every second of it.

Satoru's left hand slowly trailed down your body, his touch feather-light at first, but purposeful. The cool air kissed your skin as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your underwear, his hand pressing firmly against your most sensitive spot without pulling the fabric to the side.

The sensation made your breath hitch, and your entire body tensed as his fingers began to move, rubbing slow, deliberate circles along your slit, teasing and drawing out every bit of tension you’d been holding inside.

His fingers trailed gently up and down, gliding over your skin as if he were mapping you out, testing your every reaction. He found your clit with ease, rubbing small, teasing circles that sent jolts of heat through you, the slow rhythm making it impossible to think straight.

Your thighs twitched, the stretch around him making the sensation even more intense. The heat of embarrassment flooded through you as your body reacted, and when you turned your face away, unable to watch the reflection of what he was doing to you.

Satoru clicked his tongue softly in disapproval. "Uh-uh," he murmured, his voice dark with command. "Eyes on the mirror. Watch what I do to you."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your gaze reluctantly shifted back to the mirror.

His hand kept moving, the slow rhythm intensifying, the way he touched you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. His reflection was smug, pleased, as he watched you fight to keep your eyes open and focused on what he was doing.

It was an order, and disobeying felt impossible.

When his finger slipped inside you, your body jolted slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His movements were slow, deliberate, each stroke inside you making it harder to think.

One became two, both pumping in and out of your clenching heat with a slow, deep rhythm. He kept his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you in place against his chest as he worked his fingers deeper.

His breath was hot against your ear as his grip on your body tightened, his voice a low groan as he spoke. "You know what I can't wait to do?" His words sent a new rush of heat through you, and he chuckled softly at your reaction. "I can't wait to taste you... spend hours learning every inch of my muse's body. Watching you come undone again and again and again."

The promise in his voice made your mind reel, the intensity of his touch and his words leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as your pulse raced.

A particularly well-angled thrust had your back arching, a breathy moan slipping free. "That's it..." he praised, curling his fingers so they can brush against your G-spot again. "You're so wet for me... So responsive."

His thumb joined the fray, rubbing firmer circles over your clit that had your hips rolling mindlessly to meet his touch. He worked you higher and higher, stoking the flames of your pleasure until you were teetering right on the edge.

And still, he demanded you watch. Compelled you to observe the wanton display you made, his dark gaze devouring you from over your shoulder.

"Come for me," Satoru growled against your lips, his fingers pumping furiously now. "Let go. Now."

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and whiting out your vision. You shook and shuddered in his hold, a cry of ecstasy torn from your throat as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from your spasming body.

Satoru swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing you deeply as he continued his ministrations.

Only when you collapsed bonelessly against him did Satoru still his hand, drawing his glistening fingers from your depths. He brought them to his mouth, maintaining eye contact through the mirror as he licked them clean with a shameless moan.

"Delicious~" he purred, voice rough with satisfaction. "My perfect muse."

You felt weightless, the tension from the day—hell, the whole week—melting into nothingness as the lingering echoes of your orgasm left you in a daze. Your body felt loose, relaxed, like all the stress had finally evaporated, and for a moment, you simply existed, floating in the aftermath.

Then, you felt your thighs shift wider, and a small, confused sound escaped you before you even realized it.

Satoru's low chuckle filled the quiet room, dark and amused. "You didn’t think that was it, did you?" His voice dripped with mischief as his hands moved to adjust you in his lap. He shifted beneath you, pulling his pants down slightly as he repositioned you, pulling you higher onto his lap.

The movement pressed you closer to him, allowing you to fully feel him underneath you, hard and insistent. His hand returned to your underwear, the long digits returning to rub away at you.

The sudden pressure made your back arch instinctively, a small whimper escaping your lips from the mix of sensation—equal parts pleasure and the discomfort of being played with beyond your limit.

"Silly girl," he tutted softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. His hand returned to your waist, the grip firm yet tender, as he tugged your underwear to the side, filling you in one stroke.

You both froze for different reasons—your legs trembled as you felt the stretch, trying to stay tethered because he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, while Satoru groaned, overwhelmed by the tightness that enveloped him.

"F-Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed.

You let out a broken whimper, arms growing weak and giving out beneath you. You collapsed slightly forward, your forehead resting against his thighs as you tried to adjust, to find some relief from the pressure.

Satoru growled softly at the sight, his hands gripping your waist with more purpose. He pulled you fully down onto him, your hips flush against his.

"S-Satoru..." you moaned, your voice shaking, tears welling in your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming.

His hips jerked forward in short, deliberate movements, and your body responded, helpless to the rhythm he set. "T-that's right, baby, say my name..." he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hands guided you, pulling you back down with each upward thrust.

He lifted his hips to speed up the movements. You could only cling to his thighs, breathless and powerless against the force of his desire.

Satoru kept going, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer, filthy words laced with desire. His grip on your waist was tight, almost bruising, as he held you firmly in place.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room—wet, slick noises and the rhythmic squelching with every movement.

The intensity of the moment wrapped around you, heightening every sensation, your body overwhelmed by the pressure building inside you.

Your second orgasm was approaching too quickly, the wave of pleasure rising fast, almost too much to handle. Desperation washed over you, and you tried to scoot forward, to slow things down, but Satoru's response was immediate—he went faster, his thrusts growing erratic.

You let out a choked cry, begging for him to slow down, but he only groaned in response, his pace relentless.

The sensation was overwhelming, and then it hit you, like you were thrown over the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed as the blinding pleasure rocked your entire frame.

Your body shook, every nerve alight as the intensity consumed you. You could hear Satoru cursing under his breath as you trembled in his arms, your body a quivering mess in the aftermath.

And then you felt it—the heat of him filling you, spreading through your lower body in a rush of warmth. Satoru let out a long, drawn-out groan, pressing himself flush against you as he reached his climax. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as he stayed close, savoring the feeling.

Before you could catch your breath or say anything, Satoru moved again. He pulled you back slightly, and you gasped, the sudden movement sending a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you.

His hands snaked under your thighs, lifting you carefully from his lap. He groaned softly as he watched his release spilling from you, leaking out as he admired the sight.

Satoru gave a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "What a sight to see," he hummed, his voice thick with amusement. One of his hands trailed down to your entrance, his thumb gently grazing over the sensitive skin.

He played with your sticky entrance, his fingers teasing, before pressing back to plug up the fallen release. Your thighs twitched in response, a shiver running through you at the sudden sensation.

You called out his name for what felt like the third time, your voice weak but pleading. "Satoru..."

He let out a tired but satisfied chuckle, his hand pulling away as he finally relented. "Fine, fine," he murmured, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. He settled you down on his lap again, this time pulling you close to his chest, cradling you as his arms wrapped securely around you.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, his breathing slowing as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

The night grew quiet, the tension fading into a comfortable stillness, but even as you relaxed against him, your mind wandered.

As the night went on, you couldn't help but think: Nobara was fucking right.

A/N: lolol, sorry for the influx of smut guys, promise this won't be like an everyday thinjg.... 👀 anyways, hope this was up to your standards and wasn't too bad bubbly-bear, i tried my best to make it work to the song...😭

[lewisvinga]

ultimate wag | alex albon & lily muni he x fem! reader

summary; alex and lily soft launching their relationship with y/n but everyone keeps assuming they’re friends, so y/n takes matters into her own hands to hard launch

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; suggestive comments

taglist; @namgification

notes; requested! ALEX AND LILY ARE MY SHITTT, i am actually so in love w them both , they’re soooo🤭

masterlist !

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and others

lilymhe: thailand 🌴⛱️🌊🛥️🇹🇭❤️

tagged; yourusername, alex_albon

yourusername: got a sunburn 😞 but 100% wanna go back😩

lilymhe: i got aloe vera gel i got u pretty girl

username: ALEXLSKD

username: her friendship w y/n is so cute! and i love how alex is close w her too!!

username: couples trip ft y/n😭

alex_albon: cool

lilymhe: u were the least cool out of all of us

alex_albon: wah wah

yourusername: she’s right you were

carmenmmundt: i miss you girlies!! we need to link up soon !

lilymhe: YES i’ve miss you too😢

yourusername: girls trip this time?😁

georgerussell63: not you guys keeping the bad bitches out

alex_albon: how rude!

liked by lilymhe, yourusername, and others

alex_albon: recharging 🔋

tagged; yourusername, lilymhe

yourusername: lils was thinkin’ hard

alex_albon: thinking hard or hardly thinking

lilymhe: you both know what i was thinking about 😼

yourusername: oh!

alex_albon: there are children (logan) here, lily!

logansargeant: oh! 2x

username: idk yall i’m not feeling the 2nd picture

username: the way y/n is holding onto alex and lily???? seems more than friendship to me😭

username: nah she’s always been cuddly, that’s how she is i think

landonorris: did you fall

alex_albon: wtf no

yourusername: liar! i have a video of it!

landonorris: SHAREEE

username: alex and his gf and his gf’s gf

username: lily is stronger than me bc if my friend was holding my bf’s face like that, we wouldn’t be friends anymore

lilymhe uploaded to their story!

[caption 1; happy birthday, pretty girl💗💗] [caption 2; too tired to walk in her heels😴 ( told her to not wear the ysl heels bc we were going to walk a long distance 🙄 )]

alex_albon uploaded to their story!

[caption 1; happy birthday, sweet girl🌸] [caption 2; my girls post 2 bottles of wine]

liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, and others

yourusername: f1 driver bf x golf player gf = the ultimate wag ¿

tagged; lilymhe, alex_albon

alex_albon: the ultimate final boss wag

lilymhe: I CAN TAKE HER I CALL DIBS FIRST

alex_albon: lily wait THATS NOT EVEN FAIR??

yourusername: lils called dibs sorry 😕

alex_albon: love you, sweet girl❤️

yourusername: love you, my best boy💗👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

lilymhe:wow we are all so hot liked by yourusername!

username: so true

lilymhe: my pretty girl!! love u💓

yourusername: love u lils😣💗

username: OHMYOGSIDJ

username: my parents

username: goodness gracious

username: whatta sexy couple

username: alex winning at life w 2 pretty girls by his side

yourusername: u hear that albono?? alex_albon means stop being mean

alex_albon: you only call me mean because i try to limit your coffee intake 🙄🙄

lilymhe: BOOO

logansargeant: ur bf was mean to me today btw☹️☹️☹️

yourusername: i’ll protect u from alex_albon 🤺

alex_albon: u americans are snitches😕

username: i’d do anything to join this throuple

username: this is so weird

username: womp womp , they’re happy so who cares liked by yourusername, alex_albon, lilymhe!

username: i didn’t expect this at all

username: bye i thought alex and lily were monogamous this whole ass time

username: im literally like 😦😦😦 bc since when were lily and alex poly???😩

username: OOMF ON TWITTER WAS RIGHT?

[cl6teen]

come and see me ❀ ln4

in which everybody knows just how whipped your long distance boyfriend is for you

contains: social media!au, student!reader (21-22), whipped!lando who spoils you a bunch, a short little thing because i love writing for lando, this is purely self indulgent lmao; but to my requests dw im certainly getting to them

📍 rio de janeiro

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, bsfsinstagram and 79,477 others

yourinstagram clearly not much studying is being done!

view all comments

landonorris goddamn

landonorris first

bsfsinstagram this is getting out of hand

landonorris 😍😍

landonorris how are you so beautiful??

landonorris hey

yourinstagram hi i have a boyfriend 🥰

landonorris he’s a lucky guy

maxfewtrell please just come visit so that lando can shut up and stop whining about you

liked by yourinstagram

luv4lando lando always having post notifications on for yn is so boyfriend of him 😭😭

user hes literally head over heels for her

oscarpiastri please do your schoolwork

yourinstagram you’re one to talk 😬

liked by yourinstagram, f1bestwags, danielricciardo and 533,266 others

lando.jpg tfw when u miss ur girlfriend but she’s across the world

view all comments

danielricciardo my man my man my man lookin ass

landonorris my girl my girl my girl , and what about it?

yourinstagram i love you 🥰

yourinstagram call me call me call me

landonorris yes ma’am 😍

user lando seems like the type to mention his relationship at any moment and i’m here for it

oscarpiastri he does 😒

landonorris you act like it bothers you

oscarpiastri i just listen because i can’t tell you to shut up

user omg i’ve just gotten into watching f1 but who’s this?

user lando’s girlfriend! he’s head over heels whipped for her

bsfsinstagram please stop facetiming her while we’re trying to study ☹️

user get you a man like lando norris

yourinstagram he’s a one of a kind, but good luck trying!

user nothing was more sweet than watching lando’s post race interview when he said his celebratory plans were going home and facetiming y/n

user need this kind of love in my life asap 😩

my man 🏎️

are you back from the beach?

you

mhm, just made some dinner

wanna see the photos i took?

my man 🏎️

the answer’s the same every time babe

you

i’m screaming into my pillow and kicking my feet rn

my man 🏎️ loved an image

my man 🏎️ loved an image

my man 🏎️

holy shit yn

😩😩😩

is that the dress i sent you??

shit, it looks good, you look so good in it

im glad i bought it

you’re the prettiest woman i’ve ever seen

you

lando omg

stop it stop it

my man 🏎️

i cant praise my girlfriend?

i should buy you more things

you

please don’t 😭

this was more than enough i’m so in love with it

my man 🏎️

if i can’t see you i can at least spoil you

i was going to get you a van cleef stack, what colour did you want?

you

lando norris.

i don’t need a van cleef bracelet.

my man 🏎️

what about some heels?

you

you’ve already got me a bunch, my closet is begging for more space

how about you get me podium on your race in singapore?

i cant wait to watch tomorrow

my man 🏎️

well that’s already a guaranteed

i’ll just surprise you 🤍

you

okay love ��

liked by landonorris and 231,900 others

yourinstagram come and see me for once (lando)

view all comments

user awe the photo from his stream earlier 🥺

user HELP when he saw that y/n was watching he got so smiley and excited

bsfsinstagram not the partynextdoor lyric

yourinstagram the best of the best

landonorris im coming.

yourinstagram yeah sure 😓

user the period???

danielricciardo is this shade 🤔

yourinstagram most definitely not daniel, get off my page

bsfsinstagram danielricciardo you can get onto mine instead 😍

user realer than real

user does anyone else thinks she’s always too quick to show off her body, like she barely wears any clothing

landonorris shut up

bsfsinstagram shut up

oscarpiastri shut up

danielricciardo shut up

user omg if i was that user i would have no choice but to stop living bc how u get cussed out four times back to back

my man 🏎️

you shouldn’t worry about that comment angel

it’s been a few days, they took it down

you

i know, lots of people say it anyway

it shouldn’t bother me

my man 🏎️

it’s okay if it bothers you

but don’t change because of it

i like what you wear

i actually love it

you

🙄

of course you like it

you like everything about me

my man 🏎️

why wouldn’t it?

you’re so smart and kind

and fucking beautiful

i won the lottery

so don’t change yourself to fit a rando’s wants

who the hell even are they

you

i love you so much

i wish you were here right now

my man 🏎️

yeah, me too

but i got you that gift i was talking about

it should have arrived by now

you

oh i didn’t even notice

my man 🏎️

yeah they said they dropped it off at your door

you

okay i’ll go check, i’ll facetime you in a bit to try it on

liked by bsfsinstagram, mclaren, landonorris and 643,444 others

yourinstagram so he did in fact come and see me…

tagged landonorris

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user lando standing on business norris

liked by yourinstagram

landonorris i hope you liked the gift i sent

yourinstagram i love it so much

danielricciardo are you not the gift in question lando

oscarpiastri ik your grades are cussing you out rn

yourinstagram i’m actually still getting all A’s i’ll have you know

bsfsinstagram parents reunited in brazil!!

yourinstagram 💋💋

liked by yourinstagram, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 895,256 others

landonorris 🇧🇷 with this stinker

view all comments

user the differences in their posts are taking me outtt

yourinstagram why would you post that

landonorris why wouldn’t i post that?

user will you be back in time for qatar?

mclaren he better be 😅

danielricciardo this is so girl from ipanema core lando

landonorris shut up mate

oscarpiastri when lando finally sees his girlfriend again and is no longer there to complain 🙏🏻

landonorris you know you miss me

oscarpiastri say hi to yn for me

yourinstagram best boyfriend ever 💋

landonorris only for you 🤍

[star-girl69]

i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔

no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)

okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE

she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU

she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself

like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you

she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol

but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!

and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP

and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”

excuse me????

“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”

“DIE”

she just laughs and takes your shoes off

she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you

clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat

“did you eat today?”

“babe you SAW me at lunch”

“just making sure….”

you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!

she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side

bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔

when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF

bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”

and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????

she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!

anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear

and an emotionally stunted caveman

she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you

idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)

so she quickly adapts to do all these little things

if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand

QUEEN of opening jars for you

if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you

also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.

like that one meme

“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”

“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”

also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup

finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER

like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head

you make it seem so effortless

she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy

so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..

also she’s constantly bragging about you

“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”

ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane

“yeah y/n is so pretty”

“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”

even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.

will she stop? no ofc not

she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words

loves kissing you all over

KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭

anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me

she’s just always touching you

hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere

hand around your waist

SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES

no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating

if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together

whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want

so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing

will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED

she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly

she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.

on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you

partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep

if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit

she’s a super light sleeper i feel like

always on the guard fr ✊

a little bit better when you’re there tho

so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep

like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?

hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop

you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

[bitterspoons]

For once, I thought it was me.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.

use of y/n

Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff

Word Count:

part one / part two coming soon

A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.

"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.

"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.

Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."

Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."

Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.

"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."

Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"

"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.

"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."

Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"

In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.

Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.

Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.

"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.

"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.

George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."

Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.

"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.

The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.

"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.

"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.

"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.

"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."

"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"

"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."

"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"

Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."

Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.

●●●

Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.

When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.

As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.

It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?

He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.

Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.

"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.

Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.

"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."

"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.

Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.

Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.

"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.

"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"

"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.

"Your soulmate or your crush?"

"Maybe both!"

●●●

Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!

Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.

His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.

And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.

Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.

Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.

Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"

Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"

Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."

Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"

"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."

Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah?" He said hopefully.

"Can you do me a favour?"

Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.

"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."

Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.

So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"

Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."

Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.

So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.

The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.

Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.

"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.

Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.

Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.

Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.

Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.

Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.

Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?

Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.

What was her name again? Y/n?

Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.

Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.

______________

Girls Dorm #207

- Susan Bones

- Lia Diggory

- Y/n L/n

______________

Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.

"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.

Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"

The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.

Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.

Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.

The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress

Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.

"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."

"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"

"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.

"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"

Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.

"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.

A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.

Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.

He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.

●●●

Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.

"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"

Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.

Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.

Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"

""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.

"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.

"I don' know," Fred admitted.

"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.

The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"

"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.

"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."

"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”

“Who?”

Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.

“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.

“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”

“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn���t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”

Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”

“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”

“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”

“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”

Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.

“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"

"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.

Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.

"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.

"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."

Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."

Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.

"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"

Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?

"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.

"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.

"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"

Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.

Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.

Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.

"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.

"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."

“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”

Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”

“Why not hang out with Angelina?”

“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”

So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”

“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”

Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”

“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”

Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.

“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.

Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"

"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."

"Alright then, I'll see you around?"

"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.

Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.

(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)

[trivia-yandere]

omg i really enjoyed nefarious! 😭 jk was so yandere but i loved it! can i request another jk yandere with him wondering why the reader doesnt really like him as much? Thank u if you do!

hello! yes we can! (since you didn't really go into detail, we'll just come up with anything that seems to fit the "yandere" aspect)

this fic is a little (a lot) different than what we usually write in terms of smut - so warnings are of course applied!

the other woman

jungkook decides it's time to take matters into his own hands and figure out how to get you - his sweet, innocent girlfriend, to fuck him.

@sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom @darkuni63

writer: quay

word count: 3.989

warning: yandere/dark themes, non-con aphrodisiac intact, threesome, girl on girl, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), nipple sucking, kissing, jealousy, attempted blackmail, spitting, loss of virginity, scissoring, character death, manipulation,

“An aphrodisiac…?” Jungkook murmurs, a tilt of his head. “Are you sure?”

Mina, your friend, nods with a wide smile. “Y/N’s a little shy, you know? Maybe something like that could help her loosen up.”

Jungkook swallows, he isn’t sure himself. However, Mina was your friend - your best friend and someone you trusted with your life. 

Mina was the reason Jungkook and you met. Mina was someone Jungkook met through mutual friends that oftentimes mingled. The many times he met Mina, he has never seen you all but once - and one time was enough.

You stood out in the loud club, nearly clenching onto Mina like a scared puppy. You were dressed similar to her - tight dress that stopped just below your ass, heels that strapped up to your calves and light makeup. Only, you didn’t appear to be comfortable in what you were wearing like Mina.

Mina had introduced Jungkook to you after noticing the man was lingering. His eyes flickered to you every so often to catch your gaze - he never did. That’s when Mina had nearly pushed you into him, declaring that Jungkook - who she only knew through friends of friends and not personally - was an amazing person to talk to. In hindsight, Mina wanted to party and needed a reason to not have you clenching onto her the entirety of the night,

But Jungkook thanks Mina for allowing him to get to know you. You were closed off, only speaking when spoken to and could never hold his gaze for longer than three seconds. But Jungkook wasn’t phased - he wanted to know you more.

Months of pining and you finally agreed to a date with him. More months of dates and you finally agreed to be his girlfriend.

Now after a year since he first met you, Jungkook notes that you aren’t necessarily a touchy person. You would hug him and hold his hand. You would kiss him when he initiated it - but when it came to sex, you completely shut down. Jungkook was a man, yes, but not an asshole. He wouldn’t force you into anything you weren’t comfortable doing. He loved you enough to wait for when you were ready.

However, it never appeared to be a time you would be. Jungkook enjoyed the steamy makeout sessions - holding you down beneath him, rubbing his clothed cock against you while you were a moaning mess. But how long could he possibly wait when the sounds of your moans were so beautiful? Your skin so soft and your natural scent clogged his nostrils? He wanted nothing more than to have you as his in every way you’d allow him to.

That’s where Mina came in. Mina knew just how innocent and shy you were and she would find him a way to make you feel comfortable.

Jungkook wasn’t expecting an aphrodisiac to be one of them. But Mina was your friend and maybe, just maybe, this is the push you needed. Something to get you aroused enough that you would know he meant no harm when it comes to pleasuring you. Hell - if you would just open your legs and allow Jungkook to taste you, it would be enough for him (for now).

“How about we try tonight?” Mina suggests. “I know you guys have movie nights on Wednesdays.”

Jungkook nods. The both of you were off the following day and that meant that there was no specific time to end it. It was one of Jungkook’s favorite hangouts with you, as cheesy as it was.

“Okay, good.” Mina clicks her tongue. “I’ll come over uninvited,” Mina raises her left hand and does finger quotations. “and that’s when I’ll bring the pill.”

Jungkook swallows. He’s uncertain still but nods nonetheless.

Mina is your best friend and Jungkook could trust her - right?

“You don’t have to drink anymore, Y/N.” Jungkook assures, eyes darting to Mina who rolls her eyes.

“It’s supposed to be a fun night, right, Y/N? Don’t you feel like you’re having fun?”

You nod your head slightly at Mina. You glance at a worried Jungkook and ponder what in the world was going on between the two. Jungkook appeared worried and bothered by something while Mina - typical - had her nonchalant attitude.

“Just one more shot and we’ll go back to the movie, yea?” Mina nods and places a shot into your hands. She told Jungkook that she was going to crush the pill into one of your drinks - this being an alcoholic beverage worries him even more. But Mina assured that everything would be alright.

The shot burns your throat but you manage to not gag. Like promised, the three of you return back to the movie - not something neither you or Jungkook picked. Jungkook tended to go for superhero movies while you stuck to either comedy or the occasional thriller depending on your mood.

Mina chose a comedy - full of sexual acts. She had laid on the other side of your couch while you and Jungkook sat on the opposite end. Her eyes were fixed on the television, possibly working off the amount of alcohol she drank for the little amount of time she’s been here.

Jungkook doesn’t make his move until he notices your legs clench together. The aphrodisiac was working in full effect.

Jungkook doesn’t dive right in. He begins with light touches. His thumb strokes your hand and then he brings it to his lips and places a kiss upon it. He wraps an arm around your shoulders to bring you close to him and he’s kissing your head gently.

Jungkook feels accomplished when you don’t stiffen at his touch. A hand grips your thigh as his lips are kissing upon your neck.

“J-Jungkook.” your stutter causes Jungkook to groan and now bite your neck harshly. You yelp at the sudden action and now Jungkook’s hand dives between your legs fully. You were wearing the shorts you’d usually wear to sleep in - loose fitting that gave easy access. 

“Yes, baby?” Jungkook’s tongue licks your neck as his fingers toy with your clothed clit. He senses that you want to shut down and turn away, but the pleasure is consuming you. 

“I don’t feel…like myself.” you murmur to him, but Jungkook notes that you’re leaning upon him for easier access. “I feel different.”

Jungkook hums, his warm breath tickling your skin that causes goosebumps to litter throughout you. You shiver, unsure of what in the world was happening to you - and why you weren’t cowering away like you usually did when it came to Jungkook’s advances. 

“Do you feel good?” Jungkook asks, his fingers tapping your heat teasingly. Hesitantly, you nod, and Jungkook hums. “Then everything is alright.”

Jungkook plays with the hem of your shorts, finding his way inside of them. You stiffen, breathing hitching. You want to tell him to stop - but there’s no use. Jungkook’s already pushing your panties aside and touching your clit - you’re embarrassed to have him feel how wet you are. 

Your back arches a bit and gently, your eyes close. It felt weird being intimate with Jungkook - you never felt the need to ever go past a makeout session with him. However, it seems as though your body wanted something different.

The movie is nothing but background noise now. You moan - encouraged to do so by Jungkook who is whispering dirty words in your ears. He’s rubbing along onto your clit at a feverish pace that has your legs shaking. His tongue rubs up and down your neck, hell bent on leaving marks to have any and everyone knows that you were his.

“Does it feel good, Y/N?”

Your eyes snap open and in horror, you come face to face with Mina. She’s smiling at you, eyes staring right at your face. You had completely forgotten that she was still in the room - maybe your aroused mind figured (or hoped) that she was asleep.

“It’s okay. You guys don’t have to stop because of me.” Mina assures, flickering her eyes to Jungkook. “I just want to make sure you feel good, right Jungkook?”

Jungkook turns his eyes away from Mina, but nods. He’s unsure what she is doing here now. He no longer needed any assistance from her - he had you where he wanted you. Wet and willing.

“How about I help?” Mina suggests, and before you or Jungkook (especially Jungkook) can protest, Mina is pulling at your tank top. She lifts it over your head, not waiting for your permission. “It’s easier if you get naked.”

Jungkook removes his hands from your shorts and watches intently. He was curious - he was your boyfriend yes, but still a man. Sometimes a little girl on girl did turn him on - and he was interested in seeing how far you’d let Mina go.

Mina had you naked - that’s how far she went. You feel under pressure beneath Jungkook’s hungry gaze and Mina’s. The cool air tickles your shivering skin.

“Why do you look so scared?” Mina giggles and comes closer. “Here,” she lifts her own shirt from her body and hurls it across the living room. She’s left in a lacy red bra that doesn’t remain on. She hurls it in the direction of her shirt. “now we’re both exposed.”

Jungkook watches as your eyes widen at Mina’s exposed state. You lick your lips, legs clenching. 

“You trust me, right, Y/N?” Mina murmurs, crawling towards you. “We’re best friends.”

You nod.

Mina smiles. Her hand places itself on both sides of your face and she kisses your lips. 

Jungkook’s wearing basketball shorts, but even they feel tight. But how couldn’t they be?  You are completely naked while Mina is from the top up. You and her are both breast to breast while kissing. You’re stiff and awkward at first, but soon melt into the kiss. 

Mina sucks onto your tongue, hands roaming your body. She touches your thighs, rubbing up along your hips to your ribs until she reaches your breast. She squeezes them into her palms and giggles when you moan against her lips.

“Have you ever let Jungkook suck them?” Mina murmurs. Her fingers are twisting your nipples gently and you shake your head, growing hot with each passing second. “Come Jungkook. Don’t let me steal all the fun.” 

Mina turns you away from her and towards Jungkook. His eyes are dark and full of lust as he comes closer. The tent in his shorts don’t go unnoticed and without a warning, his lips are on your breast. Mina allows you to lay against her as Jungkook’s tongue swirls onto your nipples.

“Does it feel good?” Mina asks and when you nod, she coos at your cuteness. 

Jungkook suckles and kneed onto your breast as if his life depended on it. He was sure that if this is the farthest you’d be willing to go, that it’d be okay because he had the chance to taste a part of you he never had before. 

You’re leaking onto Jungkook’s couch, but neither you, Jungkook or Mina appeared to care. While Jungkook sucks on your breast, Mina’s hands are rubbing along your skin. She’s gentle and soothing, as if couching you through your intimacy. Her hands reach lower and lower, lips kissing the nape of your neck gently. 

“You’re wet, Y/N.” she murmurs against your skin. Her fingers are sliding along your clit, rubbing in an antagonizing slow motion. You gasp, legs widening as she continues. You were being overstimulated - never having two people dote on you at once on such sensitive areas of your body. 

“We need to pleasure Jungkook now.”

Upon hearing his name, Jungkook glances upwards. His tongue flickers onto your nipple slowly as he listens to Mina speak. 

“Have you ever given him a blow job?”

Mina knows the answer, but she has to be slow with you. You were a virgin, after all. Far too scared to give yourself to anyone and as your best friend, she’d help you through it. Sure it was taboo - but what were friends for?

“Sit back, Jungkook.” Mina says, and with a pop of your nipple from his lips, Jungkook sits back against the head of the couch eagerly. “Y/N, crawl towards Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched at the sight of you. You were so obedient and cute. You sit between his legs, hot with embarrassment. Your ass arched in the air and he finds it hard where to set his eyes.

“Touch him. Take his cock out.” Mina giggles again. 

With shaky hands, you do as you’re told. You never touched Jungkook like this before and the intimacy is all too foreign to you.

Jungkook licks his lips when you take his cock out. Your hands are soft and your grip is firm, but he can still sense your hesitation. It’s long and girthy, veins pulsing with a tip that reminds you of a lollipop - so flush and red.

Mina wraps her hand around yours. She guides you through it. She tightens your grip over his cock and begins to thrust upwards until you establish it.

Jungkook widens his legs with a deep moan. His head pushes back against his couch cushions.

“Spit on the tip.”

You yelp, taken aback by her request. But Jungkook doesn’t go to protest Mina’s words. You do as you’re told, the salvia sliding down the base of length.

Now pump him a little faster.

Mina encourages you to do so, hand gently rubbing your ass. You do as you’re told once more, eyes widen with fascination that Jungkook was a stuttering and moaning mess beneath you. 

“Okay, now bring him into your mouth and begin to suck.” Mina murmurs behind you. Her hands were beginning to roam between your legs once more, two of her fingers rubbing your clit. “Start with the tip first until you get comfortable. Work your way down so you can take him fully.”

Jungkook feels his toes curling at the sensation of your wet and warm mouth. You do exactly as Mina says and twirl your tongue onto the base of his cock. It’s salty due to the pre-cum, but you find yourself actually enjoying this part.

You jump upon feeling a sensation between your legs. Mina’s tongue laps between your folds, causing your thighs to shake. You were new to this, so any form of intimacy was mind-blowing. 

Jungkook’s breathing heavy, moaning loudly when you attempt to take him entirely into your mouth. You bob your head just as his eyes flicker open to watch you - your eyes are filled with lust just as his ares and he knows the aphrodisiac is working wonders. His eyes catch Mina behind you and he knows that he won’t last long at the sight of both of you.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” Jungkook pants, hand grasping your head to push you down onto his cock. You gag, tears pricking the corners of your eyes at his sudden thrusts.

Mina makes it her mission to assure that you cum along with Jungkook. She suckles onto your wet clit feverishly, head bobbing side to side while her tongue remains flat against it. Her free hands rub your ass to encourage you to do so.

Your thighs shake and you feel yourself coming undone, abdomen churning with an unfamiliar feeling. 

Your moaning sends Jungkook over the edge, your throat vibrating aggressively - Mina was making you cum and in return, you were doing the same.

Jungkook pulls out of your mouth to allow you to breathe. He wasn’t going to cum like this - no, it needed to be inside of you. He waited this long. You were nearly dripping all over Mina’s face and that should be him, but he wouldn’t complain.

“Are you ready to fuck her?” Mina asks, lifting herself from between your legs.

Jungkook nods hastily. 

Mina smiles and quickly, she pulls you back against her once more. “Open your legs, Y/N. Don’t be scared.”

Mina holds both of your legs apart and Jungkook swears that he could die with the sight of you. You’re so wet - dripping - and inviting. Your walls clench around nothing and though your eyes are frightened, there’s still a tint of lust laced in them.

“Come on Jungkook. It’s okay.” Mina encourages.

Mina lowers herself to look at you. She kisses your lips just as Jungkook begins to enter you. Your breathing hitches, but Mina doesn’t let go of your lips. You were a virgin and eventually needed to get over this. Jungkook was the perfect person to do this with. He was your boyfriend and seemingly loved you. He waited for you patiently, after all.

“I-It’s too much.” you murmur to Mina, but she shushes you. 

“She can take it, Jungkook.” Mina says to him and your eyes widen. Mina’s head was blocking Jungnkook’s view of your eyes, so he cannot see the frightened expression.

Jungkook’s pace quickens, thrusting deeply inside of you. Your eyes snap shut and when you’re about to scream at the pain, Mina places her lips upon you once more.

Your walls feel so heavenly around Jungkook that he doesn’t want to stop. You felt wonderful, just how he knew you would. So tight and warm - pussy made just for him.

Mina places her fingers upon your clit and rubs, attempting to calm you down and add your own pleasure while you are dealing with being stretched out. 

“Doesn’t it feel good, Y/N?” Mina says. It’s been five minutes of nonstop thrusting. Your thighs were being clenched by Jungkook’s embrace, surely leaving a mark. The sound of skin slapping echoes off of his living room walls, the credits of the movie now rolling in the background. 

Your eyes open only slightly. Mina’s finger quickens and you moan in response. The overstimulation has you cumming quickly, juices flowing out to coat Jungkook’s abdomen.

“She loves your cock, Jungkook!” Mina cackles, leaning back to finally have Jungkook see just how fucked out you were. Your eyes were unfocused and you laid limp upon Mina. She offers Jungkook an encouraging smile. “Cum inside of her like you wanted.”

Jungkook grunts. He leans down and places his forehead against yours, lips catching your own in a quick peck. “I love you so much, Y/N.” he whispers, thrust going sloppy as he was about to cum soon. He was overwhelmed with emotion - he finally had you wrapped around him. You and he were perfect for one another - you fit together like a perfect puzzle piece.

Jungkook cums deep inside of you, twitching and panting. He litters kisses against your face and remains still until he goes flaccid.

“I think you should start a shower.” Mina says after a moment. “You and her should get cleaned.”

Jungkook nods. He kisses your lips once more before removing himself from the top of you. 

“I’ll tell Y/N you drugged her.” Mina leans against the bathroom door with crossed arms. “Isn’t that…rape then?”

Jungkook swallows thickly. “It was your idea.” he hisses to Mina. 

“Yeah.” Mina laughs. “But who do you think she’d believe? She loves me.”

She loves me.

She loves me.

She loves me.

You loved her - Mina.

Jungkook understood now why you acted the way you have the entirety of the time he knew you. The two of you grew a bond, more of an emotional one. You relied on him with your feelings and vice versa, but you didn’t see him in the way you saw Mina. You loved Mina - saw her as the light of your life and someone you’d do anything for - be anything for.

Jungkook had walked in on the two of you. He felt as if he was intruding in his own home - but you didn’t know he was there. You were wrapped in a hug with Mina, so tightly that Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a jolt in his heart. The moment appeared intimate when the both of you kissed, naked bodies against one another.

Mina had locked eyes with Jungkook when she laid you down, legs wide. She had rubbed her own clit against yours, her eyes never leaving Jungkooks.

Your moans were louder with Mina - you were more vocal. It was as if you forgot he existed all together - that you weren’t in his home. 

You touched Mina without having her to tell you. Your hands roamed her body, clenching her breast. 

You spoke - and your words were what broke Jungkook. 

“I love you, Mina.” you had said. 

You never told Jungkook you loved him - not even back to him when he had confessed to you.

“She wouldn’t believe me.” Jungkook murmurs and Mina nods her head with a wide grin.

Mina had followed Jungkook into the restroom once you had come again, this time succumbing to slumber. She had dropped to her knees and prepared herself for him when he pushed her away. 

“You had no true intentions of helping me.” Jungkook spits. 

“I did.” Mina protests. “And you got what you wanted.”

Jungkook is taken aback by Mina’s tone. “I don’t just want sex with Y/N. I actually love her!” he hisses. He came to Mina for advice, not expecting to hear it. He should have never gone through with the aphrodisiac - what if you regret what happens when it wore off? The thought of him betraying you like this makes his heart hurt. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to lose you.

“You could have told me no.” Mina shrugs. Jungkook is in disbelief - she appears as if she doesn’t care. “But you didn’t. That makes you just as fucked up as me.”

Mina comes closer - still naked - and places a hand on his chest. 

“I won’t tell Y/N. I just want you to fuck me like you did her.” Mina speaks nonchalantly. “It shouldn’t be-”

Jungkook places both hands on Mina’s neck, her head slamming against the door of his bathroom.

Mina struggles, eyes wide with shock. Jungkook’s grip was tight and she found it hard to breathe.

“J-Jung-K-K-”

Jungkook squeezes harder, eyes hard and determined.

Jungkook loves you. He wasn’t going to allow Mina to ruin what you and he had - he could forgive you. You could grow to love him like he has for you. Once Mina was out the way then there wouldn't be anyone for you to love.

Jungkook was doing this for you. He had to rid your life of such evil. Mina wasn’t a friend to you - you were just a pawn in her game. She wanted him and used you to do so - and he allowed it. He would atone for his sins - but for now, he had to get rid of the biggest sinner there was.

Jungkook drops Mina,  lifeless body hitting the ground with a loud thump. He releases a deep sigh. Jungkook had to get rid of Mina - maybe his backyard would have to do. He was planning on renovating the property anyways and adding a deck.

Jungkook shushes you, hand stroking your back soothingly. “It’s nothing you did, Y/N.”

You shake your head, eyes wide with tears. “B-But…”

Jungkook shushes you once more.

It was now the next day and laid beside you was your cell phone, multiple texts from Mina displayed on it.

Mina 🥰: sorry I didn’t stay.

Mina 🥰: i don’t think I can forget what happened. I was drunk.

Mina 🥰: things are…awkward now for me. I’ll be keeping my distance from now on

Mina 🥰: don’t blame yourself. i just need some time to think things through

Jungkook inhales your scent and smiles to himself. 

Now he truly had you all to himself, and even if you didn’t love him now then it would be okay. You would grow to love him now that there was no competition in his way. Once you realized that Mina had abandoned you, who else could you possibly run to?

[eiightysixbaby]

personal jesus

word count: 8.6k

pairing: stripper!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: your friends take you out to a strip club for your birthday, and you really hit it off with one particular stripper….

cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. mentions of alcohol consumption, billy is in this fic (I promise he’s not in it for very long it just makes perfect sense for him to be a stripper OKAY 😭) lap dances, depictions of sensual dancing/strip routines, oral (m & f receiving), very brief mention of spanking, spit kink, unprotected piv, creampie

author’s note: well. I’ve been working on this for a while now and I’m extremely happy that it’s finally ready to be shared! I highly recommend listening to personal jesus by depeche mode while you read this, considering the entire idea for this came to me while listening to that song! I hope you all enjoy, I put a lot of time into this and I hope it shows.

It’s your birthday. A day to celebrate you turning another year older. Another year closer to death, and another year painfully single and alone.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. Turning 25 doesn’t exactly make you geriatric, but seeing the people close to you hit milestones in their relationships had you feeling a little insecure on this particular birthday. Nancy was engaged, Robin and Vickie just celebrated their 3 year anniversary of dating, Chrissy and Steve had finally made things official a month ago and were sickeningly cute together. It just had you longing for a connection.

You’d had horrible luck with guys lately, and it was weighing on you. You wanted someone special to spend your day with, someone to hold you at night and stick by you forever. Or, at this point, you were even okay with just having a little fun. Any sort of male attention was fine with you, wanting to end the drought you’d been experiencing.

So, it was only natural that the girls decided to take you to a strip club this evening. The car pulls up to the door of the seedy looking building, everything very discreet from the outside. You’re wearing a shimmery silver dress with very thin straps, the fabric stopping above your mid thigh. Sheer black tights with tiny sequins adorn your legs, accompanied by silver heels with straps that you wrap around your lower legs and tie. You step out of your Uber and into the parking lot, heels clicking on the pavement. Here goes nothing.

You pull the door open, being greeted by a rush of blasting air conditioning, and the strong smell of alcohol and cologne. You see all of your friends at a table close to the stage at the center of the floor, and they immediately turn and wave at you. You prance over to them eagerly, receiving hugs from all of them along with shrill ‘Happy Birthday!’s. Robin immediately pulls out a sparkly sash that reads ‘Birthday Girl’ and throws it over your head, letting it rest diagonally across your body. Her and Vickie had actually come up with this idea for tonight, knowing it would be fun for you to let loose a little. You all start to catch up with one another, diving into the latest gossip and life updates.

Conversation lulls briefly, Chrissy taking this as her opportunity to pull out a tray of homemade cupcakes from their hiding spot under her chair, Nancy sticking candles in each one.

“Guys, do we really have to sing?” you groan, smiling despite your reluctance.

“Yes! We have to sing you happy birthday!” Chrissy insists, her delicate hands grabbing your forearms gently and squeezing. “You’re 25! This is exciting!!”

Nancy’s hands hold a small lighter, fingers cupping around each candle as she lights them individually. The diamond on her ring finger glistens in the lights of the club, catching your eye. You snap yourself out of the self-deprecating thoughts before they can even start, remembering where you are and how tonight is about you. Once every candle is lit, the girls gather close around the table, singing happy birthday to you rather loudly and theatrically. You’re a flustered mess as you giggle at them, blowing out your candles swiftly after they finish. They all clap and cheer, Vickie passing cupcakes around on small plates to everyone. You order a drink, your personal favorite, deciding you need to catch up with your friends who already have their beverages.

The lights in the club dim as you take a bite into your cupcake, strawberry icing greeting your tongue. A spotlight shines on the curtain at the back of the stage, and several whoops and hollers erupt from club patrons, including you and your friends. Your drink is placed in front of you by a server, and you take a sip, letting the alcohol sear your mouth. An electric buzz runs through you as the first sip travels down your throat, and the house music cuts. A new song begins and your heart starts racing. As excited as you were, you’d never been to a strip club before, and you felt your cheeks grow hot in anticipation.

The song that plays is ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine, you recognize it instantly. As cliche of a choice as it might be, you can’t pretend like it isn’t the perfect song for something like this.

The curtains flutter and a male figure appears, your head whipping in his direction in an instant. You can’t deny, he’s gorgeous. Big blue eyes, curly caramel hair styled into a mullet, but it totally works on him. His teeth are perfect, and his body, oh his body. He’s wearing leather pants and a white button up shirt. Most of the buttons are undone, exposing his muscular chest. The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and you can tell his biceps are begging to break out of the fabric. He has a black bowtie snug around his neck, and for some reason it makes him all the more attractive. The crowd cheers as he parades around the stage, holding his arms out in greeting as he walks the perimeter. He makes a show of undoing the last few buttons on his shirt, fingers slowly popping them out one by one. You and your friends cheer excitedly, all of you in fits of eager giggles.

“This one is Billy,” Robin leans in and whispers to you. “I was informed there’d be three performers tonight, and based on the stars in your eyes we’re off to a great start,” she teases you, and you swat her away with a laugh, eyes still trained on the stripper, who you now know to be named Billy.

He trails his hand down his bare chest slowly, grinding his hips into his hand when it hovers over his crotch. You’re practically swooning in your seat and based on the wolf whistles erupting from women around you, you’re not the only one. He takes his shirt off fully, throwing it into the crowd haphazardly. He parades around a little bit more, showing off that spectacular body, before he stills and the lights change color. The song starts to fade out, fading into a different one.

‘Closer’ by Nine Inch Nails begins to play through the speakers, and you notice movement behind the black curtain once more. Another man steps out, a striking contrast to Billy. He’s lankier, very thin, and his energy is far more submissive. It’s attractive all the same, and your eyes turn their focus to him. He has a head of shaggy brown hair and bangs that fall in his light brown eyes. His arms and chest aren’t as toned as Billy’s, but it works for him. He’s also wearing the black leather pants and white button up that Billy came out in, finished off with the same black bowtie. He commands the room better than you’d have expected him to, kneeling on the floor of the stage, leaning back on one hand as he rolls his hips upwards. He moves fluidly, and the way his hand glides down to grab his dick beneath his pants makes you sweat.

“Who- who’s that one?” you ask the table, leaning into their personal space a bit too far - but you’ll blame the alcohol.

“Jonathan,” Vickie smiles, and you’re impressed that they seemingly did their research before coming here tonight.

Jonathan and Billy both walk to the end of the stage, right in front of your table, and they both catch the sash you’re wearing. They wink at you, somehow in unison although it couldn’t have been planned, merely a glorious coincidence, and you give a flirtatious little wave in their direction. Jonathan shrugs his shirt off of his shoulders, throwing it in the opposite direction of the crowd as Billy had thrown his. It’s funny, but until now you didn’t even take note of the shiny metal poles fixed to the stage. Each man positions himself at one, and your eyes are transfixed on them. You can’t wrap your head around the way the two of them spin on the poles, how strong they must be to support their bodies like that. Billy has toned arms and a defined chest, so he fits the type, but Jonathan… you wouldn’t have expected this sort of strength from him. You’re absolutely entranced watching them move, and you don’t know how much time has passed before the music starts to fade again and the lights dim.

Various whoops and hollers erupt once more, wolf-whistles and claps of hands, and you can only assume whoever’s about to come out next is the crowd favorite. You chew on your lip in anticipation, watching as Billy and Jonathan simply walk back towards the curtain, standing in front of it unmoving. The previous song has completely faded out, the room dead silent for the first time since you got here. It only lasts a moment, though, before a new song announces itself over the speakers, without warning.

Reach out and touch faith.

‘Personal Jesus’ by Depeche Mode, it’s not a hard one to clock after that opening line. The curtains open in the dark, a spotlight coming on to illuminate the new figure. Your jaw drops when you see him, luckily catching yourself before your drink falls from your hand. You don’t need any more explanation as to why he’s the fan favorite stripper. He’s gorgeous - long brown curls cascading over his shoulders, a sheet of wavy bangs falling just above his eyes. He has a silver lip ring, and a piece of black jewelry in his left eyebrow. He glides his tongue along his top row of teeth in a smug open-mouthed chuckle, knowing the effect he has on the room. He wears the same leather pants, but he has a black button-up shirt on in place of the white ones the other two men were wearing. The way he moves in perfect time with this song makes you believe he must have lots of practice - this is his song and he’s making that clear. He walks easily to the end of the stage, stopping right in front of your table. He unbuttons his shirt in the most sensual fashion you think you’ve ever seen, nimble fingers drawing out every movement, making it take longer than it truly needs to. You can’t help but giggle when Billy and Jonathan come to his sides, pulling the garment off of him. The shirt gets tossed directly at you, the glowing birthday girl, and you gasp in surprise.

“And this one,” Nancy leans in close to your ear, “-is Eddie,” she winks at you, your hands clutching the shirt as you stare up at the man on the stage.

He’s even more glorious with his shirt off, his body littered with tattoos that you think you might want to lick. He has a tie around his neck, not a bowtie but a standard tie, and he tugs on it with force, dropping himself to his knees as if yanked by a leash. His eyes meet yours, unwavering as he watches you. Deep pools of brown that you feel like you could drown in. He lowers his torso to the ground, reaching a hand out and closing his fingers maybe two feet from your face, as if grabbing something.

Reach out and touch faith.

He’s grinding against the floor now, Billy and Jonathan entertaining different groups in the crowd from different sides of the stage. Eddie leans back on his heels, rolling his hips up into the air, one hand tugging on that damn tie and the other gliding slowly down his body. He grips his crotch, the shiny silver rings that adorn his fingers glistening from the bright lights above. You think you see Chrissy literally swoon beside you, and even Nancy’s biting her lip, cheeks flushed pink. Robin and Vickie are slack-jawed - impressed with the way these three guys know how to command the attention of a room. Your heart pounds in your chest with every rumble of the bass over the blaring speakers, your brain melting into a euphoric feeling.

Just as you think you’re able to catch your breath, Eddie jumps down from the stage. Oh god. He approaches you, standing with his legs apart, leaving room for your legs to rest between his. He bends down to your ear, one hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Think the birthday girl deserves a special show, hm?” he rasps into your ear, and you feel your skin grow hot.

His hips roll in front of your face, you’re eye-level with his crotch. Your skin feels white-hot, you know all the attention in the room must be on this scene and you’re both flattered and a little shy. You have to refrain from reaching out to Eddie, have to refrain from letting your fingers glide up his stomach, feel him. As if reading your mind, though, he grabs your hands, sliding them up his stomach and chest, encouraging you. You’re so taken with him you don’t register that the other two strippers have joined him until Billy’s murmuring in your ear from behind you.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” his honey voice drawls, hands resting on one of your shoulders.

Jonathan comes to stand behind you as well, and in his hand is a shot of whatever liquor the girls had ordered for you. He holds it where you can see it, your head tilted back to look at him. He gives you a smile - one that momentarily shatters the raunchy stripper vibe and reveals his true kindness. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for you.

“Open,” Eddie says, smirking down at you while he resumes in giving you a lap dance, his hips grinding lower over your lap now. He’s as close as he can be without pressing his full weight on you.

Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer

Your lips part, your whole body vibrating as Jonathan tips the shot glass down towards your mouth. The liquid falls in a single stream onto your tongue, and you swallow it in one go.

“Mmm, she knows how to swallow,” Eddie purrs, and you feel your face heat up under his intense stare.

You can only imagine the looks on your friends’ faces, but you hear their cheers for you along with the rustling of dollar bills that you can only assume are being shoved in the guys’ pants. Jonathan and Billy turn to head back on stage, but not before turning back to get one last eyeful of you. You blow kisses at them, giggling when they pretend to catch them. Eddie’s still focused on you, still invading your personal space. You’re squeezing your thighs together beneath your tight little dress, looking right into his eyes as he laughs to himself. He stands, walking around your chair slowly. Your left hand slips bills into his tight pants, your fingers lingering just a moment too long. Feeling a little bold, you grab his tie with your other hand and tug on it playfully, almost catching him off guard but he steels himself. He quirks an eyebrow at you, now standing behind you. He bends down, gravelly voice rumbling in your ear.

“You have no idea what that does to me, sweetheart.”

Your own personal Jesus

Eddie’s lips nearly touch your earlobe as he speaks. The way his breath makes your skin tingle can only be described as a religious experience. Ringed fingers caress your arm before he picks up your hand, placing a kiss to the back of your palm. He teasingly bites one of your fingers, flustering you for probably the millionth time tonight. He finally retreats, mouthing one last ‘happy birthday’ as he returns to the stage. He’s not done with his show though, joining his costars for a little bit of action on the pole that waits for him. His leather pants squeeze his ass so tight, you hope you’re not drooling as you watch him. You suddenly wish he was back on your lap, murmuring filthy things into your ear, fucking you senseless. But you can’t hook up with the stripper, you remind yourself, and you try to wave the thoughts away as you watch the rest of his little performance.

There’s no denying the way he locks eyes with you any moment he can, strong limbs wrapping around the pole as he seems to effortlessly spin a little. Chrissy reaches out to touch your arm, giggling excitedly.

“He can’t stop looking at you, ohmygosh!” she squeaks, pulling her lip between her teeth as you meet Eddie’s eyes once more, as if to confirm her statement.

“Where do I inquire about adopting a stripper?” Robin asks jokingly. “Yeah, um, I’d like to take that one home please… and can we wrap him in a pretty bow?” she says, pretending like she’s talking on the phone to someone important. “Seriously, I think he likes you,” she says to you, tone serious once more.

“Guys, come on. Do you know how many girls he probably does this same exact routine to?” you say, waving a hand dismissively and trying to be lighthearted, but you can’t deny the sting in your chest when you say the words.

Eddie is a stripper. This is a routine - a money maker. It’s all just a calculated game to him. He probably treats every other birthday girl the same way he treated you. Your mouth feels dry suddenly, and you throw back another shot to hopefully drown out the incoming sadness. Even if it’s a routine, it doesn’t make him any less hot, and it doesn’t mean you still can’t have fun, you think to yourself. You focus your eyes back up at the three gorgeous men on stage, watch as they move in unison, gyrating and touching their bodies and each others’ bodies. Cash is being thrown to the stage around them, raining down as the lights flash and pulse. Eddie keeps catching your eyes, winking at you for good measure. The alcohol in your system enhances the effect he has on you. He’s so close to you yet so far, you want to grab a hold of him and pull him to you.

Reach out and touch faith

The song comes to a steady close, music fading as the guys all bow and blow kisses and wave. You and your friends are all clapping and cheering with giddy delight, your head a wonderful swirl of explicit thoughts. They slip back behind the curtain, one by one, and your heart pangs for a moment when Eddie gives one last pointed wave in the direction of your table before disappearing behind the black velvet.

“Oh. My. God!” Chrissy’s mouth is agape, her lips shiny from her sparkly lipgloss. She fans herself, mock-fainting back into her chair, making the whole table laugh. You must sound like a bunch of schoolgirls, blushing and fussing over a few pretty boys.

“So, like, we’re not gonna drop the fact that Eddie is totally in love with you, right?” Robin asks, turning her body to face you.

You roll your eyes, fingers pressing into her arm as you shove her oh-so-gently. “Stoooop. He is not in love with me,” you say, biting on your lip to hold back a smile.

“You can’t even say that with a straight face! You, at least, are in love with him,” she says matter of factly, nodding her head once with finality.

“I am not!” you meekly defend, taking a bite of another cupcake to avoid talking more.

“Oh come on, babe, you’re not fooling me. I’m not into the guys, I was just watching for your reactions the whole time. You are sooo crazy for him,” she laughs, Vickie nodding along as she talks.

You feel your cheeks heat to an impossible temperature, shaking your head incessantly as you continue to devour your dessert.

“Hey, at least he gave you a little souvenir,” Nancy says, nodding towards the shirt that he’d thrown at you, which now rests on the table top. You’d nearly forgotten about it. The fact that it was once on his gorgeous body, and now you have it, makes your head spin.

The topic of conversation eventually shifts, easing the pressure on you to answer their every question about Eddie. Your thoughts, however, linger on him. You were totally fucking into him, and you’re screwed. All he was doing was acting out a routine, probably something he does for every birthday girl or bachelorette that steps foot in here and has money to offer. That fact didn’t stop you from wanting him, though, your mind wandering to how it would feel to have those rings of his pressed deep inside of you, his lip ring cold against your mouth and the skin of your neck.

“Hello? Anybody home in there? Did you have too much to drink? Oh my god, are we gonna have to take you to the hospital on your twenty-fifth birthday?” Robin’s voice breaks you from your trance, your eyes widening in realization that you’d totally drifted off to outer space for a minute there.

“What? Oh god, no. I’m fine, sorry, just zoned out a bit,” you give them a reassuring smile, not wanting them to press you again about the too-attractive men that were all over you tonight.

“No worries, we were saying we were probably gonna get going, it’s pretty late,” Vickie jumps in, sticking out her thumb and motioning towards the door.

“Oh, yeah, of course! I’m getting tired anyways,” you affirm, moving to stand with the rest of the table.

You bid your friends goodbye, giving each of them a hug and thanking them for setting this outing up for you. You decide to hit the bathroom before you leave, declining Nancy’s offer of a ride home, so they all go on without you. You make your usual promises to text them soon and plan another get together before they leave you, stepping out into the cool night and going home.

Entering the bathroom, you find that you’re alone, much to your relief. You stare at yourself in the mirror, genuinely enjoying your appearance tonight. You wonder if Eddie thought you looked good, too. You let yourself wonder if he truly was interested in you like your friends were insisting. Sighing, you sit down on the toilet, pressing your palms to your cheeks and tugging the skin down frustratedly. You wish you’d been in a setting where you could’ve asked Eddie for his number or something, or even just actually had the chance to talk to him, to hold a conversation.

You’re lost in your thoughts as you finish up in the bathroom, making your way towards the door to leave. The chill of the air conditioning suddenly feels too cold, giving you goosebumps, and you quickly throw on the shirt Eddie had given you to keep yourself warmer. It’s the only cover-up you have, so, what else could you do? You totally don’t think about how it smells like him as you approach the exit. Your palm presses against the glass door, heaving it open in front of you. Heels step onto pavement, your eyes searching your bag to ensure you have everything. But as you’re looking, you bump into another figure.

“Oh shit! I’m sor-” you go to say, but the words evaporate into thin air when you see who you’d run into.

His leather jacket covers his arms and torso, dark brown curls draped over his shoulders. He has a cigarette dangling from his full pink lips, and a silver lip ring catches the light from the parking lot lamps for just a moment as he turns. Deep brown eyes meet yours, a soft expression on them. He recognizes you instantly, of course.

“Oh, hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention,” he apologizes sincerely, eyes raking over your frame, but not in a way that makes you feel small or uncomfortable.

“No, that’s my fault too. Sorry,” you admit, looking down at your high-heeled feet. You’re suddenly shy, and you wish you had some more liquid courage to down right about now.

“I’m Eddie, by the way. If you didn’t catch it earlier,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N,” you tell him your name, taking his hand in your far softer grip, bouncing them once in a greeting.

“Nice shirt,” he says, eyeing the black button down that rests loosely on your body.

“O-oh! Did you want it back?” you ask, embarrassment creeping up your spine. He wasn’t supposed to see you in his shirt, it was just to keep you warm until you could get home and change. Your eyes look towards the ground, suddenly too shy to look at him even though he’d quite literally been grinding on you an hour ago.

“Keep it,” he says, smiling brilliantly at you. “Looks better on you, anyways.”

“Thank you,” you say, voice impossibly quiet. A small smile tugs on the corners of your lips. Why is your heart pounding so hard?

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, sweetheart,” he continues as if reading your thoughts, and his deep syrupy voice is reassuring as he places a gentle hand on your arm. “Promise I don’t bite…. unless you want me to,” he says, giving you a cute little smirk.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a giggle. You scrape the toe of your shoe on the concrete absentmindedly, looking down at it as Eddie watches you.

“Did y’have a nice birthday?” he asks coolly, his index and middle finger delicately holding the cigarette at his side as he leans against the wall of the building.

You feel your cheeks heat, and you curl your lips inward to hide your smile a little. “I had a great birthday,” you say finally. You shove your nerves down, reminding yourself of the way he was all over you before. Maybe your friends were right, maybe he really is into you.

You feel like the universe is giving you a chance here, giving you an opportunity to talk to Eddie one-on-one like you’d wanted. Better not fuck it up, you think as you prepare your next words. “There was this really hot stripper that made the day so much better…” you trail off, shyness still evident but feeling more confident under the way he eyes you up.

“Oh? Tell me more about him,” Eddie says, stepping ever so slightly closer to you.

“Well, he’s tall and muscular and so handsome, and he has really sexy tattoos…” you say, flashing him a brilliant smile as he watches you through hooded eyes, “and he just made me feel so special, and it’s such a shame I couldn’t get his number or anything…..” you sigh exaggeratedly, your doe eyes looking up at him.

Eddie smiles, and you swear it looks shy, like he isn’t used to the compliments or the attention. Like he doesn’t do what he does for a living.

“Well, I’ll have you know there was this girl… I hear it’s her birthday, actually, and she just made my shift so much better than it could have been,” he rambles. “She was just the prettiest thing,” he says, not breaking your gaze as he does.

“Oh, yeah?” you reply, tilting your chin up to him.

“Yeah,” he says softly, looking down the bridge of his nose at you. “And I think I can do her one better than just giving her my number,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, half-lidded eyes flitting from his lips to his eyes and back down again. He purses his lips in a smirk, stomping his cigarette out with the toe of his shoe.

“Why don’t you come back to my place and I’ll show you?”

“Hm. That depends. You’re not a serial killer, are you?” you ask, teasing.

“Oh, shoot, sweetheart. You caught me,” Eddie says, holding his hands over his eyes and peering through his fingers.

You laugh, and he thinks about how he’d like to hear that sound a lot more. He reaches a hand out for you to take, nodding down at it. “Whaddya say? Care to join me?” he asks, and you meet his eyes as he peers through his bangs at you.

His open hand waits, silver rings catching the fluorescent light from the lamps in the parking lot. It beckons you, asking you to take it. The song from earlier rings in your head.

Reach out and touch faith

You take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “Lead the way, handsome.”

Eddie’s vehicle is nice, extremely nice, actually. It’s a black Jeep, black leather seats with red details and stitching. The money he makes at the club clearly pays off, you suppose. Hell, you’d seen how much cash he’d been thrown tonight alone - including what you’d contributed. He has a pair of red fuzzy dice that hang from the mirror, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself as you swat them once, making them sway where they hang.

“Are you laughing at my dice, sweetheart?” he asks, shuffling into his own seat.

“Oh, no. I’d never,” you say, biting back a smile.

His sparkling eyes don’t leave yours, pulling you in, refusing to let you go. You notice his tongue dart out to wet his lips, notice the way he leans ever so slightly towards you. The tension in the closed space suddenly grows palpable, like you could slice it with your fingernail if you reached out.

You don’t make it to Eddie’s place. You don’t even make it out of the parking lot.

You’re the one to close the distance between the two of you, leaning over the center console of the car to press your lips to his. He grunts in pleasant surprise, his hands finding their way to your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing, thoughts going a mile a minute as you process the fact that this is really happening. You can feel the metal of the ring adorning his bottom lip as your mouth glides against his, the jewelry not getting in the way but remaining noticeable. His tongue doesn’t ask for permission, just slides its way past your parted lips. It mingles with yours, swapping spit back and forth in a heated encounter. You bite his bottom lip and tug, toying with the metal ring with your teeth. He whines, pulling away from you the slightest bit, eyes half lidded as he jerks his head to the side, motioning to the backseat.

“Get in the back,” he pants, “need you right here, right now.”

You oblige, opting to get out of the car and actually go in through the back door rather than climbing ungracefully over your seat. Eddie follows suit, crawling towards you like an animal stalking its prey, not satisfied till his face hovers over yours, his mouth dipping down to meet your soft lips. He captures them briefly before pulling away again, moving down further to press kisses to your jawline, your neck, your collarbone. You feel his tongue and teeth against the skin, biting, sucking, licking. You whimper beneath him, raising your hips to brush against his. The chuckle that leaves his mouth sends a shiver down your spine, one of his strong hands coming down to push your hips firmly against the seat.

“Such a needy thing, hm?” he tuts, looking up at you with those big doe eyes before he resumes kissing your neck.

His hand holds you in place like it’s easy work, keeping you still when your body tries to writhe beneath him. The smell of his cologne fills your nose, intoxicating as you breathe it in along with the whisper of cigarette smoke from the one he’d had mere minutes ago. The chain around his neck dangles low, the guitar pick pendant brushing the dip between your breasts that your dress leaves partially exposed.

You remember the way he teased you inside the club, remember the way he let you tug on his tie, the way his hips gyrated above your lap. You grow wetter at the memories, more than ready to actually get to have him now. You pull his shirt off of your shoulders, playfully tossing it at him, mimicking the way he’d tossed it at you. His eyes go wide at it, a hand pressing to his forehead as he pretends to swoon, making you laugh. The shirt gets discarded to the floor, Eddie leaning back over your frame. He shoves the neckline of your dress down, freeing your tits for him. You went braless tonight and you’re thanking yourself for it, the ease with which he takes one of your peaked nipples into his mouth sending you reeling. He sucks on one, then the other, his hand always toying with the mound of flesh that isn’t currently being entertained by his tongue.

“Eddie,” you whine, arching your chest further into his touch.

“What is it, baby?” he purrs, the hand on your hip now skirting down your thigh, reaching the hem of your dress and hiking the fabric upwards.

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, not begging for anything specific but just for more.

He looks at you, leaning back on his calves, hands raking over your thighs as he slides back.

“Look how pretty you are,” he muses, eyes trained on the lace between your thighs. Your dress is pushed up so far, leaving you almost entirely exposed.

He presses his thumb over your clit, just a thin excuse for fabric separating his skin from yours. You suck in a sharp breath, bucking your hips slightly into his touch.

“Oh, she wants me to touch her so bad, huh?” he teases, finger stroking over the growing wet patch on your underwear.

“Please,” you whine again, gasping when Eddie hooks a finger into your panties, yanking them down.

His big hands delicately take your heels off of your feet, setting them on the floor of his car. He tugs your panties completely off of your legs then, letting them land wherever he tosses them. His leather jacket comes off as well, being thrown into the front seat. His black t-shirt hugs his biceps well, the fabric clinging to his body in a way that makes him so much more enticing.

He swipes a finger up through your folds, collecting your slick before bringing said finger to his mouth. He sucks on it, tasting what he can of you and moaning. You’re awestruck watching him, feeling like your heart is going to beat out of your chest when his eyes meet yours, dark and needy. He crouches down swiftly, settling himself so his face is right in front of your waiting pussy. His tongue sticks out, licking up your folds in the same pattern his finger had just followed. You cry out in pleasant surprise as he begins eating your cunt, a present perfectly unwrapped just for him. He presses his tongue inside of you, velvety muscle tasting every inch of you.

His hands grip your thighs, holding your legs open for him. Dark brown eyes look up to meet yours, and the sight is unholy. The way his lips attach to your clit and suck, the way he purposefully makes a show of dragging his tongue through your puffy, swollen lips, never once breaking eye contact. It makes you want to worship him, a divine presence for you to praise.

Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares

“Eddie…” you whine, screwing your eyes shut when his tongue flicks faster over your clit.

He simply hums in response, a pleased noise that vibrates against your core. He knows what he’s doing to you, he can tell by the way you whimper and writhe beneath him. His tongue stays focused on your clit as he brings two fingers to your entrance, slipping them easily inside of you. You gasp, tugging on his hair in desperation. He groans, a deep, throaty noise that catches you by surprise.

“Keep fuckin’ pulling my hair, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your wet heat. “Wanna know how good ‘m makin’ you feel.”

Your back arches into his touch when he curls those fingers inside of you, perfect pink lips still pursed around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your orgasm is quickly approaching, tension building and building in the pit of your stomach the more he winds you up.

“Eddie, I- I’m gonna-” you pant, fingers still entwined in his curls, eliciting more pleased sounds from him.

His fingers only move quicker in response, curling inside of you and bringing you right to the edge, letting you plummet into bliss. You clench around him, squeezing his fingers over and over as he works you through your high. You jerk your hips, suddenly overstimulated, and Eddie takes the hint. He removes his fingers, his mouth unlatching from your sensitive clit.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he grins, flashing those perfect white teeth at you.

You flush, scrunching your face in embarrassment before he leans down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you throb. You suck lightly on his tongue, letting out a breathy laugh when he grinds his hips against you in response.

“Fuck, angel, need to be inside you…” he murmurs, mouth pressing kisses to the shell of your ear.

“Mmm, not yet,” you reply, capturing his lips in another quick kiss. “If I don’t have my mouth on you in the next five minutes I’m not gonna survive,” you purr, mouthing at his jaw, sucking the supple skin of his neck.

He groans, raspy and deep, letting you mark him as your fingers make quick work of the button and zipper of his tight jeans. His erect cock hangs heavy in the thin fabric of his boxers, finally letting you gauge how big he is. You swallow, hand wrapping around the outline of his cock and squeezing. Eddie inhales sharply, dropping his head to rest on your chest. His arms tense as he props himself up, his resolve threatening to crumble with the way your thumb teases his tip through cotton fabric. You can feel the pre-cum leaking from him, sticky strings of it attaching to the pad of your finger as you tease.

“Baby, mmmmfuck,” he moans, looking back up at you with pleading eyes.

“Sit back,” you instruct him, removing your hand from his bulge. “Let me take care of you.”

He just about combusts when you clamber to the floor of the spacious back seat, tugging his boxers from around the taper of his hips. You let them drop to his ankles, pooling around his shoes. His cock springs free in front of you, heavy and leaking for you. The trimmed patch of hair at the base has your mouth watering, his balls hanging beneath like the perfect temptation. You open your mouth, making a show of sticking your tongue out as you tap the tip of his cock against it. You give teasing licks across the head, lapping up the pre-cum and tasting him properly.

He whines above you, his head thrown back and the veins in his neck pulsing. His previously cocky demeanor is gone in this moment, giving in completely to how desperate he is for you. It seems to be a give and take, both of you worshiping each other like the holiest entities.

You take him fully past your lips, saliva pooling beneath your tongue. You bob your head, coating him with your spit. The girth of him stretches your mouth uncomfortably, and you move slowly as you adjust to taking him. One of his hands flies down to your hair, gripping it to give himself some sort of leverage.

The sight of you on your knees for him, tits hanging free on your chest and your perfect lips sucking him right in has him feeling like he could melt into the seats of his car. Your big doe eyes peer up at him, feeling like a shot to the fucking heart.

“God, baby, your mouth feels like fucking heaven,” he praises, watching himself disappear into your perfect mouth.

You hum in satisfaction, picking up your pace. You take him until his head hits the back of your throat, making your throat restrict as you gag around him. The whine that comes out of him is sinful, there’s no other word to describe it, and it has you pressing your thighs together for some relief to your core that already aches for him again. His modest muscles strain against the tight fabric of his t-shirt, every inch of his body trying to maintain composure and failing. You grip his balls with one hand, holding the base of his shaft with the other. You pump his cock in your fist in tandem with how your mouth bobs on his length, other hand squeezing the squishy flesh of his balls simultaneously. He almost jumps off the seat his hips buck so hard, forcing another gag from you as his cock hits your throat again.

Your nose brushes the curly hair on his pubic bone, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mouth off of him, regaining your control. You continue what you’d been doing, both of your hands and your mouth working him closer and closer to release. Strings of curse words leave his perfect parted lips, the hand in your hair guiding the movements of your head ever so slightly.

“Babybabybaby,” he rushes out, a strangled groan escaping with the words. “Don’t wanna - fuck - don’t wanna cum yet. Need to fuck you, pretty girl,” he says, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

You press soft kisses to the head of his cock, the skin still flushed a darker shade of pink, ready and waiting to be inside of you. He pulls you up onto his lap, hands immediately cupping your breasts and squeezing as he presses a rough kiss to your lips. Your dress remains bunched up at your middle, your glistening pussy rubbing right against Eddie’s cock, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

Eddie stops the slow rocking of your hips suddenly, as if startled.

“What’s wrong?” you urge, meeting his eyes that hold a guilty expression.

“I totally don’t have condoms…” he says sheepishly, biting his lip.

“Oh - I mean, we don’t need to use one, if you’re okay with that. I’m on the pill and I - I’m clean, and stuff,” you ramble, wondering why you’re finding it so fucking hard to get words out now.

“I’m clean too. Promise. I, uh, don’t exactly do this often,” he looks at you shyly, the demeanor unfitting for him. The confession that he doesn’t do this often admittedly makes your heart swell, all of those nervous thoughts you’d had about him earlier, about being part of a routine, washing away gradually. “But if you’d rather we don’t, it can wait till next time,” he continues.

“Next time?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Y-yeah. I mean, I mean if you want to see me again after thi-” you cut off his nervous stammering with a firm kiss, your fingers cupping his chin as you claim his mouth with yours. His nervousness makes him so much less intimidating, taking him down from being this larger-than-life entity, an unobtainable stripper who sees attractive women every night, to just being… a regular guy. A cute, sweet, charming guy who’s also insanely sexy.

Pulling away, he smiles lazily at you, kiss-drunk and awestruck. “Yes I want to see you again. And yes I want you to fuck me, right here right now,” you reassure him, your sultry gaze enough to make him do anything you could ask of him.

“Fucking deal, babe,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. His tattoos are on full display, and your eyes rake over him, your cunt pulsing with all of your filthy thoughts. He smirks at you, clearly liking the way you drink him in, biting his lip as you raise your hips slightly so he can position his cock at your entrance.

You sink down onto him without a warning, the two of you gasping in unison. You grip his shoulders for leverage, the stretch to fit him slightly uncomfortable despite your extreme arousal. You work yourself down, down, down, slowly until you’re fully seated on him. He sits heavy and thick inside of you, making you ache with an enticing kind of soreness. Your walls flutter slightly around him as you wiggle your hips around, getting used to the feel of him. His hands grip your hips, his lips parted and his eyes screwed shut as you start to find your bearings on top of him. You dip your head down, rolling your hips on him as you suck a brutal hickey into the column of his throat. Your teeth gnash at soft skin, tongue soothing the sting afterwards. A low growl escapes him, fingers squeezing your doughy flesh as he starts to rut himself into your soaked cunt.

Breathy moans leave your lips, your jaw hanging open as he fucks into you faster. Your tits bounce in front of his face, and he wants to take them into his mouth and stay latched on forever. Perfect swells of skin, all for him to touch and kiss and suck. His hands grip the soft globes of your ass as his mouth sucks the skin of your chest, making you moan when his fingers squeeze hard.

You’re so fucking full of him you feel delirious, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every deep stroke he delivers to you. His name is tumbling from your mouth in a rhythmic pattern, over and over, like a prayer. You really can’t get that damn song out of your head from before, and it makes so much sense why he chose it to be his.

Your own personal Jesus

You want to praise Eddie right beneath the roof of his Jeep. Want to shout his name from the rooftops, make the whole world know how good he’s fucking you right now. You want to follow every word he says, every command he gives you. You want to pray to him every night before you go to bed, you just want to worship him. The way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his lips suck on your neck make you feel like you’re being worshipped, too. He sucks and squeezes and fucks like this may be his last opportunity to, like he’s savoring every possible bit of you and committing you to permanent memory.

You bounce on his cock, gaining some more control as Eddie’s thrusts slow down with fatigue. You take the reins, cupping his face in your hand and kissing him hard. Licking into his mouth desperately, humming when his tongue meets yours. But then he somehow takes control again, making you pliant for him even as you ride him with vigor. He squeezes your jaw, letting your mouth fall open before he spits into it, a string of his saliva dropping onto your tongue. You swallow it, not needing to be instructed, and you swear Eddie gets even harder inside of you. You recall Eddie’s comment from earlier, when Jonathan had given you the shot. ‘She knows how to swallow.’

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, jaw tight and the veins in his neck prominent as he stills your bouncing on top of him and thrusts up into you.

He goes so deep you’re left seeing stars, lurching forward and gripping his shoulders for stability. Your body feels like it could crumple into itself if you let it, every one of your limbs overtaken with pleasure. You feel a familiar tension building higher and higher in the pit of your stomach. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin and the occasional smacking of your lips against his fills the vehicle, the air growing humid with every hot breath that leaves your mouths. The sounds he makes are downright obscene, any bit of composure he’d had completely slipping away for you. His thrusts get faster, faster, and you let your fingers drop down to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the sensitive bud.

“Ohhhh fuck baby,” Eddie moans, watching the way your head tips back as you pleasure yourself. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Eddie,” you cry, thighs trembling as your orgasm crawls closer and closer.

His fingers squeeze your hips impossibly tight, one of his hands letting go only to deliver a swift smack to your ass. You whine, cursing under your breath as the pads of your fingers circle your clit again and again. Eddie fucks you ruthlessly, pulling almost entirely out just to sheathe himself inside of you again, taking your breath away. The friction and the fullness is euphoric, your body giving way completely to pleasure as your second orgasm finally rips through you. You’re screaming out for him, chanting his name again and again as you come undone on his cock. You soak him, lewd, wet noises coming from you as he continues to thrust beneath you.

“‘M gonna cum so fucking hard, baby,” he rasps, looking at you through his lashes. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside. Inside Eddie, please,” you rush out, begging him to fill you with his seed. He lets out a strangled whine at this, gripping your flesh even harder.

You swear his eyes roll back into his head, hips stuttering and his cock pulsing as you feel the warmth of his cum painting your insides. His final thrusts are sloppy as he gives you every last drop of his cum, your mouth hung open in a silent moan at the overwhelming sensation of him gliding against your sensitive walls.

His chest is heaving with each breath he takes, his palms splayed out across your lower back, holding you close to him when you slump forward. Your legs feel like jelly, weak and trembling from exertion. Your mind is fuzzy in the best way, a smile on your face when Eddie tilts you to look at him.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your entire face, loving how blissed out you look. “Wanted to have you all to myself during our whole show tonight, god…” he continues, smirking a little as he shakes his head.

“I could say the same to you,” you reply, looking at his lips as you talk.

His mouth catches yours in a lazy kiss, tongues dancing together sloppily. His fingers rub soothing circles on your skin, slowly guiding you up and off of his softened cock.

“So, do I have to shove more dollar bills in your pants for all of that, too, or?” you joke, earning a laugh from Eddie that presents itself in a harsh puff of air from his nose.

“Nah, that’s on the house, baby,” he says, giving you a lopsided grin.

You both sit in silence for a moment, your delicate fingers tracing patterns up and down his arms. He looks at you like you’re an angel sent from the heavens, those chocolate brown eyes admiring you in the kindest way.

“Do you, uh, still wanna come back to my place?” he says finally, that ill-fitting nervousness creeping back into his voice.

“Hmmm,” you pretend to ponder, pulling your dress back up over your breasts and tugging the hem to rest normally on your thighs. “What’s in it for me?”

“I have a stripper pole in my living room,” he says with a smug grin. “I’ll give you your own private show.”

“Sold.”

[starkwlkr]

saw that your request are open. I was wondering if you could write charles getting emotional because ruby just graduated high school

slipping through my fingers | charles leclerc

an: it’s been a while since I’ve written for ruby but we’re back baby!! guys idk how high school in monaco works so please don’t make fun of me if I get stuff wrong I’m doing research ok 😭 i went to school in america lol

The day was finally here. It was the day that Ruby had been waiting for her entire life and the day that Charles dreaded. His baby was graduating and he couldn’t accept the fact that she was growing up.

All morning, Charles had been taking pictures and reminding everyone that ‘Ruby was growing up too fast’. Everyone knew it of course, little Ruby Leclerc had grown up way too fast. It feels like it was just yesterday that she was messing around with Charles’ phone.

“Papa, hurry! I don’t want to be late!” Ruby practically shoved Charles out the door. She was dressed in a new dress that Y/n had bought her along with her cap and gown. While most of her friends were wearing heels or flats, Ruby went with her converse. It took lots of convincing for her parents to say yes, but I’m the end Ruby got to wear her red converse. Ruby then started running out the door in fear that she was going to be late for her own graduation.

“Wait! It’s okay. . .” Charles called out, grabbing his car keys from the counter. As he made it to the front door, he saw a picture of his family from his Monaco win. Back when Ruby was still asking him to tie her shoes and Mathéo still slept with his favorite blue blanket. “We have time.” He spoke to himself.

On the way to the ceremony, Ruby was talking about all the universities her friends were going to attend. Most were going to Harvard or Stanford. Ruby still hadn’t revealed where she would continue her studies and it made Charles nervous. Was she finally leaving Monaco?

“What did you want to be, papa?” Mathéo brought Charles back to reality. “Like when you were my age, what did you want to be?”

“Well, I always planned to be a Formula one driver, but if that didn’t work out then maybe an architect.” Charles replied.

“What about you, maman?”

“I always wanted to be a princess.”

The kids laughed, along with Charles. “But everyone calls papa the prince of Monaco so technically you are a princess!” Mathéo clarified.

“I guess you’re right, baby.”

When the Leclerc family made it to the school, Ruby spotted her uncles, aunts and grandmother. She immediately ran up to them and greeted them with kisses on the cheek and a hug.

“Stop growing!” Pascale placed another kiss on Ruby’s cheek.

“That’s what papa kept saying all morning!” Ruby laughed.

After everyone greeted each other, it was time for Ruby to get to her assigned seat. She quickly said a goodbye to each of her family members. Before she could leave to join her friends, Charles pulled her aside.

“I want to give you this. It’s your special day and you deserve something special.” Charles took out a small box from his pocket. He handed it to Ruby and watched as she opened it.

Ruby couldn’t believe it. She took the necklace out of the box and gasped. “It’s the one I wanted!”

“Let me help you put it on.” Charles offered. He took the box and placed it back in his pocket. Ruby turned around and lifted up her hair so Charles could put the necklace on her.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She turned around and gave him a hug. It was a much needed hug for Charles. His little girl was not a little girl anymore and he had to accept it.

“Go before you’re late. We’ll be watching.” Charles said to her before she left. He wiped away a tear and sighed. That’s when Arthur came up from behind him.

“Are you crying?” The younger Leclerc asked.

“I’m allowed to cry!”

“This feels like when you won Monaco.” Arthur chuckled.

“No, this is better than winning Monaco.” Yeah, watching his daughter cross the stage and accept her diploma? Truly better than all his wins combined.

[cvpidsb0ws]

❛CONFESSIONS.❜ | alice in borderland characters

genre: FLUFFFLUFFFLUFF <333

warnings: NONE I THINK!!

sypnosis: headcanons of alice in borderland characters confessing to you.

author's note: did i disappear after just one aouad imagine then appear again with an alice in borderland obsession? yes i did. 😁😁😁😁 !not proofread!

――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――

ryohei arisu

RYOHEI ARISU WOULD BE HEAD OVER HEELS FOR YOU. ONLY YOU.

he's definitely that kind of person to hide his feelings because he's scared of rejection

so that means he's the type to not make the first move at all CONSIDERING HE'S A SHY BB!!!!!!!

BUT BUT BUT HE'LL PROBABLY GROW FED UP OF YOU NOT GETTING THE HINT OF HIS UNDYING LOVE FOR YOU

SO IT WOULD LEAD TO HIM FINALLY CONFESSING AAAAAAAAAAA

arisu would probably be anxious the whole time 😭😭😭😭 like shaking, sweaty palms, stuttering, uncontrollable laughter, etc

HE WOULD PROBABLY CONFESS AT A PICNIC OR SOMETHING SIMILAR <333

he would try his best to cook all of your favorite foods even though he sucks at cooking💪💪

he would buy a bouquet of your favorite flowers!!!!!!!!

OH AND HE WOULD ALSO WRITE A LETTER WHERE HE PUTS 100 FUCKING REASONS WHY HE LOVES YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

he's the type to prepare cue cards because he know he would fumble while he confesses

LIKE HE PROBABLY PREPARED A WHOLE ASS SPEECH BUT THERE WOULD BE A MOMENT WHEN HE JUST STARES AT YOU AND REALIZE HOW MUCH HE LOVES YOU WHICH KIND OF LEADS HIM TO JUST SAYING A SIMPLE "i love you"

yuzuha usagi

YUZUHA USAGI WOULD ONLY HAVE YOU AS HER WEAKNESS.

she's someone who has always been fearless, bold, and etc🙀🙀🙀 SO WHEN SHE STARTS TO HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOU, OFC SHE FEELS CONFLICTED OR CONFUSED

probably because she's strong and you making her flustered meant her downfall😁😁

she wasn't complaining though

USAGI WOULDN'T TAKE LONG TO CONTEMPLATE HER FEELINGS FOR YOU THO

if she liked you, then she liked you :)))

AND SHE WOULDN'T BE SCARED OF CONFESSING AT ALL BUT SHE WOULD STILL HAVE HER DOUBTS

doubts that chased her every time she went for a run or climbed a mountain‼️‼️‼️

SHE WOULD PROBABLY BRING YOU TO HER FAVORITE MOUNTAIN BEFORE THE SUN COMES UP

AND SHE WOULD INVITE YOU TO SIT ON THE GROUND AS THE SUN CRACKS LIKE AN EGG YOLK IN THE SKY

she won't even realize that you have already lied your head against her shoulder

AND THAT'S WHAT TRIGGERS HER TO SAY SHE HAS FEELINGS FOR YOU

shuntaro chishiya

chishiya is chishiya. self explanatory. <3

HE WOULD BE IN DENIAL FOR THE LONGEST TIMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

he will not want to accept the fact that he fell for someone since he has the master manipulator factors and all💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯💯

but you were an exception ;)))

he would practically go from being a logical person to a carefree one for you LIKE HE DOESN'T CARE ABOUT THINGS WHEN HE'S WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU MAKE HIM FORGET THINGS WORTH WORRYING (and as much as he hates to admit you make him happy)

he would act cold, tease you 25/8 just to cover up the fact he has feelings for you

HE WOULD PROBABLY CONFESS BY HIDING ENVELOPES THAT HELD RIDDLES OR CLUES FOR YOU TO FIND

AND THOSE ENVELOPES WOULD LEAD YOU TO WHERE YOU FIRST MET

he knew you were clever enough to solve them :)

he would stand there waiting while he was wearing a suit that made him itch (BUT HE WOULD REMEMBER THE TIME YOU SAID MEN IN SUITS WERE ATTRACTIVE)

he would also have shampooed and conditioned hair for effort🙏🙏🙏🔥🔥🔥

AND A SIMPLE "i may or may not have feelings for you" WOULD HAVE SUFFICED AS HIS CONFESSION

hikari kuina

YOU WOULD BE HIKARI KUINA'S SOFT SPOT.

she would be too scared to be rejected by you because she didn't want to ruin your friendship

but she would still be confident on confessing #kuinathingzzzzzz

PROBABLY BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO PROVE SHE WAS BRAVE-

SHE WOULD CONFESS BY CHALLENGING YOU

LIKE SHE WOULD INVITE YOU TO FIGHT HER FOR 5 ROUNDS BECAUSE SHE TOLD YOU SHE HAD A SECRET THAT YOU COULD ONLY FOUND OUT IF U WON AGAINST HER.

spoiler: she loses to you on purpose because she knows how much you hate losing😍😍😍😍

SHE LOVED WINNING BUT SHE WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR YOU TO HAVE A SMILE ON YOUR FACE

her being the reason for a smile on your face made her weak🙏🙏🙏🙏

she would also give u a prize for winning <333

EITHER A RING, A NECKLACE, OR A BRACELET

AND SHE WAS THE ONE TO MAKE THEM BY HAND WITH BEADS

although it frustrsted her, she knew it would make you smile

"i love you . . . like so much."

suguru niragi

admit it. suguru nigari will not catch feelings for anyone at all.

unless it's you ofc😍😍😍😍🙏🙏🙏🙏

BUT HE HATED THE FEELING

HE HATED HOW MUCH HE GREW FOND OF YOU

HE HATED HOW YOU MADE HIM BLUSH, FEEL BUTTERFLIES FLUTTERING IN HIS STOMACH, GROW A SMIRK INTO A SMILE, AND MORE.

he would also be confused about his feelings since he's niragi😆😆😆😆

LET'S BE HONEST BECAUSE THIS MAN IS STUBBORN ASF AND WILL NOT CONFESS AT ALL.

he would probably drop big ass hints to wait for you to confess

BUT YOU WOULDN'T GET ANYTHING WHICH CAUSES HIM TO BE ANNOYED

AND SOON ENOUGH

"fuck it, i like you, dumbass."

[ddejavvu]

okay I have a vision so (younger obv) reader is new to the bau and they all get called in for case but she was out with her friends clubbing and she is wearing one of those playboy bunny costumes because it was like a costume night or something like that (sorry can't thinking of something else😭) anyway she can't change her outfit because her apartments on the other side of town so she just shows up in her costume and when hotch sees her he like freezes because "omg shes so hot but I can't shes to young for me" and the whole case he's really distracted because he can't get that image of her out of his head and everytime they talk he gets really flustered but tries to hide it...

and I haven't actually thought of an ending but I just love flustered hotch 🤭🤭

You're not quite sure Penelope's 'AVENGERS ASSEMBLE !!! COME AS YOU ARE' text had quite meant this.

Storming through a government building in a bunny suit feels like treason. Somehow. You make it to the BAU's floor, and you're thankful no one else is in on a Friday night. It's just the round table room that's full, and every step you take towards it feels like a step towards death itself.

You try not to walk in like a cartoon character, leading with your whole body instead of slipping a heeled foot through the door first, then letting it trace up your thigh. Your shoulders are hunched and your hands are gripping your eared-headband so tightly that you think the plastic will snap.

Aaron's eyes land on you, and he thinks he's going to explode. Really, he's never popped a boner this fast in his life. The shuffle of his chair sliding further towards the desk to hide his lap isn't noticed, though, everyone is staring at you.

"I will change on the jet," You don't let anyone get a word in, stalking towards your seat, "I didn't have time to change."

"Woah," Derek eyes your bodysuit amusedly, and you're pleased to discover that even if he's teasing you, his gaze isn't predatory, "Not that I'm complaining, Y/N, but why do you look like this?"

Aaron's fist clenches around the screen remote so tight that he hears the plastic creaking.

"I was drinking with my friends," You sink into your seat, bare thighs against the leather as your bodysuit blends in, "And it was theme night at our favorite bar. Something about Res-Erection," You recite with burning cheeks, "People get really creative for Easter."

"Nothing like celebrating Jesus by gluing a tail to your ass," Emily snorts, then her face falls slightly, "That is.. glued, right?"

"Yes!" You shriek, burying your face in your hands, "Oh my god, everyone stop talking! I told you I'd change on the jet!"

"Let's get started," Aaron commands, and you send him a sheepish, thankful glance. He's not sure why he did it, whether it was to save you from teasing or save himself from his jealousy, but either way, you're both glad for the subject change.

--

Unfortunately, Aaron is distracted. For the first and only time in his life, he's unable to worry about the serial killer you're chasing, and more concerned on scrubbing his brain of the image of your bunny costume. He likes it, he loves it, but he shouldn't be thinking about it, so he's trying to run a deep clean on his brain.

The seat beside him hisses with air as you plop down in it, now fully clothed in jeans and a blouse. Everyone is theorizing as they read through M.E reports, and you use the distraction to lean in.

"Thank you, Hotch." You hum beside his ear, and tingles shoot up his spine, "I appreciated you changing the subject back there. Oh- and, uh, I'm sorry for being so unprofessional. It won't happen again."

"It's alright," Aaron's tongue feels numb as he avoids meeting your eye, now much more interested in the police reports in front of him, "Things happen, it's not your fault. And it was, uh, revealing, yes," He blushes, praying you don't notice, "But nothing I'm going to have you arrested for."

"I think I'll lend it to Morgan," You muse, still murmuring so close to his ear that he's having trouble breathing, "He'd look good with the ears."

He plays along, ignoring the lingering thought in the back of his mind that he would wear the ears if you asked him to, "No, I think Reid would be a better fit. He twitches his nose a lot already."

"You're right," You gasp, knocking your elbow into his, "Thanks, Hotch."

"What are you two gossiping about?" Rossi raises an eyebrow, and Aaron keeps his eyes diligently on his paperwork.

"We're planning Reid's next Halloween costume," You inform them, "Spence, you like magic, right?"

"I do," He nods carefully, "Why?"

"Rabbit in a hat," Hotch murmurs, still scanning the pages as he nods thoughtfully, "Good thinking, Y/L/N. And we can saw Morgan in half."

[all444miles]

can you please do 42!miles with a baddie like a Megan type vibe? SHE HAS A PINK JEEP

💗💗💗💗

— SHE A BADDIE

— pairing: e42!miles x fem!black!reader — genre: fluff — summary: what its like for 42 miles to date a reader with a "baddie like megan" vibe. — a/n : i felt like i was a lil lazy writing this, sorry ! can yall tell i got excited abt the jeep n the attitude part.. its litch what kept me writing this whole thing 😭 also, a car creeper is those lil things u slide under to fix the underside of ur car — a/n 2: changed the way i start writin a jus a lil, petition for head over heels 42 miles supremacy !! + this was so fun.. like i was writing this n i was like "lemme be this when i grow up" LMAOOO so ty for the request anonnn, mwah and enjoy !!

MILES FALLS IN LOVE with you every second. like, honestly, just do anything, he's wrapped around your finger.

maybe he'll try and hide it, but you make him fold 24/7. you dont even have to do nothing.

it's just something about your energy, the way you dont give a damn about nothing, he just loves it. y'all are like beast boy and raven.

"mama, you killin' me right now." "hm? did i do somethin'?" "i love you so, so much. i swear, you make me weak." "aww, hun, I love you more." "yeah, keep dreamin'. now, lemme love on you."

hype man, hype man, HYPE MANN

when I say if you want to do anything he's here for it, he's here for it.

you wanna get your hair done? he's at your service.

you wanna go to the mall? he's already throwing you the keys to your jeep.

you wanna get your nails done? show him your options (he always likes the french tips, esp this.)

"Y'know Miles, i think this set ain't looking too good no more.." "You wanna get new nails?" "Mhm, wanna help me pick?" "'Course I do, let's see em."

does not care what you wear, he's always gonna say you look gorgeous. plus, he can fight. but, he's always got his hands on your waist. always.

you're your own girl, he knows that. he spoils you, yes, but he'll always let you do your own thing.

he can't explain it, but when you refer to him as "my man", or your anything, really, it does something to his heart.

yk when latto goes "ty to my man"? yeah, that's you.

"My nails? Yeah, my man helped me pick 'em."

you have attitude. Miles doesn't mind, he's a "yes ma'am" kind of guy, but if it's to him, hes gonna shut you down.

a lot of the times, you won't care, and it won't end in an argument, becuase he's still shutting you down regardless.

"Miles, you lost your shit or sum." "Amor, drop that tone f'me, aight?"

you are a party animal, and Miles? He'll just be in the back, watching you do your thing with your friends. If you ask him to dance with you though, he will for sure.

Will he throw money on you? Yes, yes he will. (Not sexual btw !)

Your jeep. He has his own car, but he honestly loves yours the best.

He helped you decorate it, all pretty and pink

He will happily get in your jeep while you blast Megan or Rihanna because c'mon now, who wouldnt?

I'm insistent he's good with mechanics, so he'll tune your car whenever you need him to, bryson tiller or tory lanez playing while he does so. (i'm losing my shit rn.)

"Cariño, ¿puedes pasarme esa llave inglesa? It's to ya left." (Baby, can you pass me that wrench?)

he'd say, sliding out from the car creeper under the hood of your pink jeep, sliding back in after you passed him the tool.

and after about 15 minutes, he'd come back out, putting a dirty cloth over his shoulder, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

its a sight to see: white tank top, slightly stained with grime from fixing your car; his favorite gold chain glistened in the sun, adorned with beaded glints of sweat from his neck.

"Aight, i think she's good, you can start her up if you wanna." "Yay! thank you for fixing my car, baby, I love youu."

you'd squeal, wrapping your arms around his neck to plant a kiss on his cheek, your pink tinted lip gloss staining his face.

"Ain't no problem princesa, I love you too."

© all444miles 2023. do not plagerize, copy, or repost my work in any way shape or form, without my permission.

likes, reblogs, comments and asks are always appreciated !

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

love your writing! Can I request a fic where Gigi and Savannah keep stealing Lyra for girls night or girl time and Grayson is getting jealous? And Acacia thinks is hilarious?🤭

Jealousy and Stolen Moments

disclaimer: this ended up being WAY longer than i thought. so if ur in for a short read, im sorry 😭

——————————————————————————

MONDAY:

Grayson adjusted his tie, before glancing down at the new heels he had bought for Lyra in their closet. An idea crossed his mind, and he stepped out of the closet, walking towards Lyra who was sitting down at the vanity and doing her makeup for work.

“Lyra, how do you feel about going out for dinner tonight?” Lyra turned around to face him, a smile touching her glossy lips. Grayson was moving closer without meaning to now, drawn to the breathtaking girl in front of him. “You’ll get to wear your new heels.” She made a face at him, before speaking.

“I would, but Gigi and Savannah invited me over for dinner and a sleepover. They want to do a book marathon, spa day, and movie marathon in one day.” Lyra said with a shrug. A smile touched Graysons lips at the thought of Lyra bonding with his sisters. It warmed his heart in a new and unfamiliar way.

“Alright then.” He said, smiling. Lyra smiled back, and Grayson bent down and, putting an arm through her knees and another around her upper back, picked her up.

“Grayson!” Lyra exclaimed with a grin, writhing around in his arms. Grayson couldn’t hide his love for her as he pressed a kiss to her lips, trailing more on her jaw and down her neck. He pressed one last soft kiss on the space just below her ear, taking in her sweet and addictive perfume smell, before raising his head and giving her red cheeks a teasing look.

“You can put me down now.” Lyra stated, crossing her arms and raising a brow at Grayson, despite the red blush on her cheeks. Grayson returned the brow raise, before adjusting her in his arms and gently tossing her over his shoulder. That got another shout out of her as he placed a reassuring hand on her thigh and used the other hand to grab her purse.

“Can I?” He replied, walking over to the kitchen in the apartment they were currently renting.

“Yes!!” She shouted, her legs gently kicking his chest. Grayson was wearing an amused expression as he set down her purse, grabbed his cup of coffee, and put Lyra down one handed. As soon as her feet touched the floor, Grayson noticed the blush growing on her face, and tried very hard to hide his smile.

“Just for that,” Lyra grumbled, snatching Grayson’s car keys off the counter, “I’m driving.” Grayson made no move to stop her as he followed her graceful steps towards the door, sure that he would follow her anywhere as long as she asked.

TUESDAY:

Grayson parked in the parking lot of Lyra’s workplace, watching her walk out and towards the car. Grayson got out before she did and moved to open the door for her. Lyra didn’t object, but was grumbling “ever the gentleman” with a smirk on her face as she climbed inside. Once Grayson was inside too, he was quick to ask the question that had been flashing through his head since he was at work.

“Do you want to go out for lunch?” He asked her. Lyra shook her head, a sorry expression on her face.

“I wish, but I have plans. Gigi has been begging me to do blind, mute, and deaf baking with her and Savannah. Apparently she hasn’t stopped talking about it, and Savannah called me begging for us to just, and I quote, “get it over with”.” Lyra said, smirking. Grayson was surprised for a moment, before a ghost of a smile touched his lips.

“Of course. Do you want me to drop you off there?” Grayson asked her. Lyra glared at him.

“No. I want you to leave me on the side of the road so I can go hitch hiking with a group of old guys that are probably trying to molest me.” Lyra deadpanned. Grayson’s lips twitched.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And I assume my presence isn’t needed in this “girl time”?” Grayson asked her. Lyra smirked.

“I’m afraid not, sweetheart.” She said, tossing back the use of Graysons pet name for her. His smile only grew as he kept driving, finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes on the road.

WEDNESDAY:

Normally Grayson would be working on Wednesday, but he got an off day due to some holiday that he honestly didn’t keep track of anymore. With a soft smile playing on his lips, he waited outside of Lyra’s workplace to again offer the lunch idea. Lyra stepped out of the elevator and made her way towards the door, before looking surprised once her eyes met Grayson’s.

“Grayson!” Lyra says, her eyebrows shooting up as she stepped outside and closed the space between them. Grayson kissed her softly and slowly, placing his hands on her hips as she brought her arms around his neck.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He said, the ends of his lips ticking upward as he wrapped his arms around her lower back and enveloped her in a hug. If only they could stay that way forever.

“What are you doing here?” Lyra asked once she pulled away, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before taking his hands in hers. Grayson shrugged, giving her hands a squeeze.

“I wanted to offer up the lunch idea again. How does that one salad bar place that you love sound?” He asked her. Lyra’s eyes widened, as she groaned and smacked his shoulder playfully.

“So good! But unfortunately..” Lyra said, trailing off as she made a pained face. “I’m busy again.” There was the slightest look of disappointment that flashed across Grayson’s face, and as subtle and quick as it was, Lyra still noticed it.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but with Acacia’s birthday coming up, Gigi and Sav want to go gift shopping. They have a bunch of ideas, but want mine and each others’ help to narrow down a few,” Lyra said apologetically, before her features changed and she took on a proud expression. “And, because my boss loves me, she let me take a two hour long lunch break, which should give us enough time.” As glad as Grayson was that his sisters and his girlfriend seemed to be getting along very well, there was still a sting of disappointment that came along with being rejected three days in a row.

“That’s nice of her.” Grayson said, using the moment to pull Lyra to his side and press a kiss to her temple. “Can I at least walk you to your car, or are Gigi and Savannah going to snatch you away before I can get the chance?” There was a flicker of movement on Lyra’s brow, just the slightest twitch, but it was so quick that Grayson wondered if his brain was just making things up.

“Nope,” She said, swatting her hand at him as if swatting away a pestering fly. “Begone, you.” But still she made no move to leave him, and the slightest laugh came from Grayson’s mouth as he opened the car door for her and watched her climb in. Only when she was waving at him and driving away did he notice that the pang of disappointment had grown, mixing with another swirl of emotion that he felt stupid to feel.

Jealousy.

LYRA:

As soon as Lyra had driven off, her mind was racing as she giggled mischievously and called the group chat with her, Gigi, and Savannah in it.

Was Grayson…. jealous? That she was hanging out with his sisters and not him? It was noticeable that Grayson tended to become possessive and protective when it came to her, but only if you could read the signs.

And Lyra, having dated him for 8 months now, could read the signs.

As soon as they picked up, Lyra didn’t let them speak before talking herself.

“Guys,” She said, unable to contain her giggles, “We have to hang out tomorrow.” Gigi whooped in the background, but Savannah was more quick to protest.

“Again? I don’t mean to be rude, but this is the 3rd time in a row that we’ve hung out. Another day and I’ll grow sick of you.” Savannah said. Her tone was so serious that Lyra almost didn’t know if she was joking for a second, but living by two broody people made her able to spot the signs.

“Yes, yes, I know, but trust me, this is different,” Lyra said, grinning. “This is about Grayson.” Savannah paused, and Gigi took that as her sign to speak up.

“How so? Has he finally given in to my persuasion and is getting a cat?” Gigi asked hopefully. Lyra sighed.

“Unfortunately not. But you know how we’ve been hanging out these last few days?” Lyra asked, a wicked grin crossing her face. “Graysons getting jealous.” There was a pause, before I heard a snort on the other end of the line that was definitely Acacia.

“Grayson is jealous that you’re hanging out with his sisters and not him? Now that’s hilarious.” Acacia teased from somewhere in the distance, her mind already have connected the dots. Gigi bursted out laughing as well.

“He’s pathetic.” Savannah snickered. And when that got a complaint from Acacia, the snickering ceased, and Savannah spoke up again, saying, “I’m joking, mom.” in complete deadpan. Lyra laughed as well.

“I’m going to see how long it’ll take before he breaks and finally says something. You guys ready to have me over every day until that point?” Lyra asked, only half joking as she didn’t want to intrude.

“We would never mind, baby. You’re apart of the family now.” Acacia said again, making Lyra’s heart warm. Gigi giggled, and Lyra heard a slapping sound from the call. She didn’t have a single doubt that Gigi was currently rubbing her hands together like an evil mastermind.

“Get ready, Grayson.” She said menacingly. Lyra snickered.

Get ready Grayson, indeed.

THURSDAY:

Grayson didn’t stop by Lyra’s work today, as he was sure that she was probably busy. Again.

A pang of annoyance hit him at the same time a pang of sadness did, and just for a moment, he wondered if she was blowing him off on purpose. Then he shook off his annoying thoughts and decided to just give her a call. He hit the call button and was ready to hear her harmonic voice, but instead was met with the line stretching on, and then, her voice mail.

“Hey it’s Lyra!” The voice mail said, her voice bringing Grayson a sudden sense of peace. “I can’t come to the phone right now-“

“SO STOP CALLING!!” A voice that Grayson immediately recognized as Gigi’s spoke over her, which brought a laugh from Lyra. When did she change her voice mail, Grayson wondered. Was it when she was with Gigi and Savannah?

“Or, just leave a message.” Lyra offered with a laugh. “Which, by the way, you can leave after the beep.” Suddenly, there was a beep, and an automated message asking if he wants to leave a voicemail. Grayson hung up before the robot was done talking, wanting to at least say something, even if it’s in a voicemail, but also not wanting to bother her at the same time. Grayson just set his phone down with a sigh and tried to focus on his work, although he knew his mind was elsewhere.

FRIDAY:

Grayson got off work at 9, a bit later than usual although he also went to work late in the morning, and was excited to finally see Lyra. She had been hanging out with his sisters the entire week, and as much as he hated to admit it, jealousy was truly eating at him alive. It was terrible, but his head was getting foggy and his heart heavy at being away from Lyra for this long. And of course, he didn’t want to say anything, for if he did, it would look like he didn’t want Lyra to have a relationship with his sisters. It was all too confusing.

Grayson got in his car and drove home, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel impatiently. It was ridiculously embarrassing to admit, but he truly goes insane when he’s not with her.

Grayson got out of his car and speed walked up to their apartment entrance, stepping inside the building and going as quickly as he could to their temporary room on the 3rd floor. Grayson stepped inside, a smile touching his lips, as he called out for Lyra. The smile slowly dropped when he didn’t get an answer.

“Lyra?” He tried again. Even though there was again no answer, Grayson didn’t want to lose hope. He searched the entire apartment, and then he came to the conclusion that she wasn’t home. Again.

Too bitter and filled with disappointment and jealousy to feel tired, Grayson got back outside, got in his car, and drove to the closest bar he could.

One glass of wine became 3, and 3 became 6, and soon enough, Grayson was drunk. Very drunk. He wondered how he was supposed to get a ride, and when he tried getting up, immediately sat back down. Okay, he was drunk. And dizzy. And tired. And where was Lyra?

Grayson just stared at his cup of wine until he felt a hand on his back.

“I have a girlfriend and I love her.” He said in deadpan, trying his very best not to slur the words.

“I have a boyfriend and I love him.” A beautifully familiar voice replied simply. Grayson whipped his head to follow the voice, blinking hard as he took in the beautiful woman standing in front of him. Lyra. Suddenly, he seemed very intent on standing, and, raking a hand in her hair, he kissed her. It was soft and gentle at first, and then became more passionate.

“I missed you.” He murmured against her lips. “When you were with my sisters.” Lyra froze, before separating, a grin playing on her face.

“You did?” She asked, looking shocked. Grayson put another hand on her neck, very suddenly needing to be close to her.

“Yes. You were gone every day.” He said, a pang of hurt swirling in his chest even now.

“Really?” Lyra stretched out, gasping dramatically.

“Yes, and-“ Grayson cut himself off, freezing as he realized what had happened. He was drunk, but he wasn’t stupid.

Lyra had realized that he was feeling left out. She knew, and she was hang out with the girls on purpose as a way to tease him. He just hadn’t realized.

“There you go.” Lyra said as he put two and two together, grinning.

“Oh.” Grayson said simply. He was beginning to sober up more now, his brain blinking through the week and not knowing how he hadn’t noticed before.

“Oh.” Lyra replied with a smile, before taking his arm and hooking it over her shoulder. “Okay, Handsome, time to kidnap you.” That got a few looks from some girls, but Lyra just made a face as she walked him to the car. The rest of the night was a haze, with Grayson passing out on their bed as soon as they got home, and once he did, dreaming about Lyra.

SATURDAY:

Grayson awoke suddenly, stretching his arms before checking the time. 9:04? It wasn’t like him to sleep in, even though it was a weeken-

The night before flashed through his mind, and Grayson groaned while rubbing his forehead, suddenly aware of why it was pounding.

“Hungover?” Lyra asked, suddenly coming into the bedroom with a plate of breakfast and a cup of coffee. Graysons eyebrows raised, as his heart warmed.

“Lyra, you didn’t have to make me breakfast.” He said, as he sat up and pressed his back to the headboard of their bed, eyeing her as she put the food down on his nightstand. Lyra shrugged, before leaning over and kissing him on the forehead. Grayson caught her wrist as soon as she pulled away, bringing her lips to his. His hands moved to her hips, and suddenly, he was picking her up, sitting her down with her knees in his lap. Lyra just giggled into his lips, and just that made him want to kiss her harder.

“Okay, okay,” Lyra said, swatting his chest as she pulled away, although Grayson was reluctant to separate. “You can calm down now. What I was going to say was it’s my little way of saying sorry.” Her eyes shimmered as Grayson raised a brow.

“What for?” Grayson asked her. Lyra made a face as she took Grayson’s phone off the nightstand, and held it up to him. Grayson blinked as he stared at his notifications. 12 missed calls from Jameson, 3 texts from Nash, 15 from Xander, 7 calls from Gigi, and 1 missed call from Acacia. Grayson felt his cheeks burning up as he checked his call log and realized last night he sent Lyra 17 voicemails.

“Why so many calls?” Grayson said, raising a brow at her. Lyra snorted.

“Gigi may or may not have called all your brothers telling them about the prank we played on you. And Xander may or may not be making a short story called, “Grayson Hawthorne: How the Human Form of Bland Oatmeal Got So Mushy and Gushy with his Feelings”.” Lyra said. Grayson blanched, but she just shrugged. “The crowd goes wild when you start showing emotion.” He just stared at his phone with a shocked look, before it wore off and he smiled at Lyra.

“That’s okay. They can say what they want.” Grayson asked, kissing her nose.

“Really?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Grayson said. “You’re here anyway.” He left the rest of his words unspoken, as he felt more content than he had in years. Still, the words were on the tip of his tongue, the words he wanted her to understand more than anything. Suddenly, they rolled off, too powerful to be stopped.

“And I love you.”

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