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calumfmu · 7 months ago

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divorce lawyer steve is the loml 😍

could we see him finally meeting the husband you’re divorcing? 😉

Shorter one, but you know--had to do this to build the little universe better.

Divorce Lawyer!Steve x Reader [part one. part two.]

cw: smut-ish (interrupted), vulgar language, slut shaming, older!Steve, two idiots in love

“What are you doing here?”

Steve stood in your doorway, semi casually dressed—to his standards. White button down, pushed to the elbows, navy blue pants, brown loafers. His glasses were missing from his face, hair disheveled as he seemed to be more dressed down.

“I was in town?” His voice was gravelly, as he hadn’t expected you to open the door before he even knocked. You were on your way out, a normal visit to the inner city to drown out the past few months with partying.

“You live on the other side of New York.”

“Ah.”

You two sat there, staring into each other’s eyes. It was the first time around him you had felt uncomfortable, if you had even wanted to call it that.

“What’s that?” Your finger pointed to a box, wrapped in black paper, glossy, with a single bow.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

He was acting suspicious, not quite meeting eye contact as he stood in your doorway, looking like a scared cat that could flee at any moment. You grabbed the box anyways, snatching it from his hands before turning on your heel to go into your living area, plopping down on the couch.

As you began to unwrap the gift, he remained at the door, hands shoved in his pockets. You eyed him, raising an eyebrow as you took off the last bits of paper on the box.

“Stop being weird, old man,” an exasperated sigh left your mouth as he grumbled to himself, not pleased with your comment referencing his age.

It had been about a month of being his client, discussing paperwork, the details of separation, fucking him behind closed doors. The last part shouldn’t be apart of the equation, but one look at him, you couldn’t resist the temptation.

As the door to your apartment closed behind him, he stepped in, taking a wide look at the room around him. Moving boxes were still present, shoved into the corners of the room, scribbles of your name on the cardboard. You didn’t know what he was expecting—you to be living this lavish life in a lavish apartment, but it was home to you. Home to you at least for now.

You gasped loudly, slapping your hands to your mouth as you finally took a look inside of the box. Manolo Blahnik Mary Jane’s, patent leather shiny as ever, sitting there and dying to be worn.

“Steve!” Your mouth was wide open, surprise evident as you were had no idea was even aware of this side of heaven—shoe heaven. Grabbing the shoes, you immediately toed off your others, trading them for the gifted heels. Perfect fit. “You shouldn’t have!”

Giddy with emotion, you ran over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. A sloppy kiss landed on his cheek, the grimace in return as your entire body weight leaned on him. Slowly his arms came to snake around your waist, gripping the skin around your middle section.

His eyes met yours as he stared down at you, warm, chocolate brown with a whole world to offer. In this lighting, you could truly see his beauty, how age only made him more angelic, filled with fine lines and moles dotting his cheeks.

“You said I owed you, so…” he shrugged, a smug look crossing his face as he took in how grateful you truly were for the gift.

“You didn’t actually have to,” you replied, trailing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “The other pair wasn’t actually ruined, and these are so… so-”

“Think of it as an early separation gift.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the side of your mouth. Just as you turned to lean into the kiss, he pulled away, a slight dip of his eyebrow in teasing manner.

“Steve Harrington, what am I going to do with you?”

He looked away from you, smiling into the distance as you looked down at your shoes once more, squealing with delight. This was all too domestic, too inappropriate for what your relationship should be with him, especially only a month in—yet not a relationship at all, but who was anyone to tell you differently?

Sinking down to your knees, you were careful to not scuff the gifted shoes, settling on the balls of your feet. You reached for his belt buckle, hastily working the metal between your fingers. His hand instinctively came to your head, tangling in the hair as he gasped.

“What-what’s—no, you don’t have to-” His words became jumbled as you smirked up at him, blinking through long lashes.

Faux pouting, you freed his zipper, slowly pulling it down with the lightest touch of your fingers.

“I could tell you about this Ferragamo dress I’ve been eyeing,” you whispered, biting your lip as you began to palm his through his exposed underwear. His head dipped back quickly, his eyes rolling shut. “Or—I could show you how grateful I really am.”

He nodded down at you, tightening his grip in your hair as you pressed a kiss to his groin, staring up at him through it. A shuttered breath escaped him, slow and jagged, his eyes watching the quick dart of your tongue dampening the material.

Just as you pulled him out of his restraint, a rapid knock was heard at the door. Steve craned his head back, silently cursing to himself as you wrapped a hand around him, moving slowly over the velvety skin of his shaft.

“Should you get that?”

“They’ll go away.” An open mouth kiss was pressed to his head, licking away the beaded pearl at the tip. The salted skin had you drooling, already craving more.

The knock was more urgent this time, a male voice heard through the thick wood of the door. It made the both of you pause in your tracks, Steve’s eyes widening, your mouth half way around him.

“Is that-?”

“You think-?”

It took only one more knock before the two of you were making haste, Steve’s pants sliding up with a jump, you wiping the corners of your mouth. The both of you were trying to appear normal, appear like actual lawyer and client inside of whatever this was.

Rushing over to the door, you have one last look at Steve, him lingering over the kitchen island as he grabbed a random folder, grateful that it had been documents relevant to the divorce settlement.

Your soon-to-be-ex’s eyes were small as he took you in, eyes dragging down your figure. His looks, those in which you had once thought were beautiful, seemed devious, up to no good while he stood before you.

“New outfit? Looks slutty,” he muttered, pushing his way into your apartment. He looked around, focusing on the boxes in the corner of the apartment, taking in every minuscule detail of the room.

“Aw damn, I was hoping for more tramp-y,” you were firm in your words, but insecure nonetheless. You felt exposed as he stood there, nervous that he would instantly know what you and Steve had previously been up to.

Taking notice of the older man in the corner of the room, your ex adjusted his suit, shirt unbuttoned down to below mid-chest exposing firm muscle that had your eyes rolling. He put on a bravado-type show, puffing out his chest like some animal trying to intimidate its prey. Steve didn't notice.

You leaned a hip against your couch, arms crossed against your chest, eyes rolling back as your ex continued to do whatever he was doing.

"Is there a reason you're on my side of town?"

Steve finally turned around at the sound of your voice, pulling his wire frames out of his pants pocket and sliding them onto his face. If there was just the privacy of you two, you would've jumped him by now. Barely looking at the younger man, his eyes focused on the papers in front of him.

"Your side of town?" His NY accent was thick, home to the city you now call home. "Didn't realize that was on the table for the divorce."

"Speaking of terms of settlement, I don't think it's quite appropriate that you're here right now," Steve's voice drew the staring competition that you two began, two stubborn attitudes gnawing at each other. You were reluctant to pull your eyes away from the man, noticing just how cheap his expensive suit looked on him.

Your ex turned towards Steve, hands on his hips, chest poked out, styled hair coiffed on his head. Its style didn't compare to the older man—and he had about 20 years on him.

"And who might you be, old man?"

Steve's reply was a tick of his jaw, tongue smacking against his teeth as he walked up to meet the man. A hand shot out for him to shake, although it was left unmet. Your ex-partner just stared down at it, thumb reaching out to rub against his bottom lip.

"Harrington, Steve Harrington. Representing the young lady over here." Sighing, Steve tucked the hand into his pocket, stifling his own eye roll at the rude gesture. He shared a brief look with you, understanding now why you wanted out of the marriage so badly. Even by this barely thirty second interaction.

"Mm, bet you're sleeping with her, grandpa," your ex's words had you stifling a giggle, your teeth digging into the palm of your hand to stop the sound. It wasn't that his words were funny, but more so Steve's reaction to it.

He had cleared his throat, rather loudly, tugged at his collar that hung loosely at his neck. Obvious wasn't the word to put it, just a surge of an uncomfortable feeling that overcame him. One thing you could count on was your ex-husband being dense as ever, grateful that he hadn't caught the movement he had made.

"Hardly ever professional," Steve answered, clasping his hands in front of him. "Even to joke about, young man."

He was met with a response similar to his original, a tick of the jaw and eyes cut towards him. The younger man hated the turn of the namecalling back, even despite calling Steve everything other than the word 'geriatric' itself.

"I can bet you want to. I mean, look at her."

"Sir."

The irritation that stemmed from the nicknames towards him geared towards the comments made about you, Steve pinched his nose bridge. He shoved the papers to the side, tugged on the sides of his jackets, straightened his posture. Taking a step towards you, he brushed past the younger guy.

"I have a meeting starting up soon," he said, crowding your space. One of his hands brushed against the side of your thigh, a gesture that went unnoticed by the other party in the room, definitely noticed by you. Butterflies began in the pit of your stomach, tingling lower as your skin burned with the touch of his hand. "We can meet at my office, our scheduled twelve."

As you began to answer, your ex spoke up for you, waving his hands in the air as he made his way towards the door instead.

"I'm heading out, you can relax, geezer," your ex opened the door, lingering for a moment more. "I was just stopping by to see what more my lawyer can collect."

He threw a wink towards you, nodding in Steve's direction.

"Better suit up well, pal. It's only going to get worse from here."

The door shut behind him, silence hanging heavy in the air as the two of you sat there—stunned silence. It took only seconds for you to start laughing as soon as that door closed, leaning against the couch with your hands covering your mouth, feet in the air as you sat on the back of the furniture. Steve shook his head at you, running his hands through his hair.

"Really? Him?"

You nodded, cackling at the mess that was left behind by the few words that were shared between the men. Taking a step in your direction, Steve found space between your open legs, hands resting on the couch outside of your thighs.

"There's no way he could've been anything other than that," Steve huffed a laugh finally, hanging his head as your giggles finally came to a stop.

You ran your hands up the front of his chest, the fabric of his shirt running between your fingers. Tugging at the material, you brought his face closer to your own, inches away from each other as you stared up into his eyes. That chocolate brown had you smiling softly, comfort easing the anxiety that had settled at your chest from the earlier interaction.

"Shut up and kiss me, old man."

Steve smiled widely, eyebrows shooting up. Humor found him at your words, different than the earlier reactions given. "Oh, you guys were perfect for each other."

You pressed your lips to his, slotting perfectly into his shape. It was a chaste kiss, a subtle press of lips that warmed your core.

"But I think you're perfect for me now."

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

#my writing #older!steve #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #smut #Steve Harrington smut #satc reader lives on #I love it here #requests #lawyer!steve

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mrs-stans · 1 month ago

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Sebastian Stan Appreciates Taking Things 'A Little Less Seriously'

The actor caught up with L'OFFICIEL at the CFDA Fashion Awards to discuss wearing Thom Browne and his transformative roles in A Different Man and The Apprentice.

by Carrie Wittmer

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

Photography: Ryan Lowry Stylist: Michael Fisher Grooming: Amy Komorowski

On camera and off, Sebastian Stan is always aware of what he is wearing, whether he's suited up as the Winter Soldier in Captain America or sporting jeans and a T-shirt on a day off. The actor— who stars in and is winning over buzz for his transformative performances in A Different Man and The Apprentice—represented Thom Browne at the 2024 CFDA Fashion Awards on October 28 in New York City at the American Museum of Natural History. For the event, Stan wore a full Thom Browne look: a classic ticket pocket tuxedo with self-tipping in black, 3-ply mohair; a knit vest in black cashmere; a classic button-up shirt in white oxford; a necktie in black silk faille; and penny loafers in black patent leather.

In A Different Man, Stan plays an aspiring actor with neurofibromatosis who has facial reconstructive surgery that dramatically alters his appearance. In The Apprentice, Stan plays former President Donald Trump in a film that follows his rise to power, focusing on his mentor-mentee relationship with lawyer Roy Cohn, portrayed by Jeremy Strong from Succession. Stan received critical acclaim for his performances in both films, and is now a likely contender for the upcoming awards season.

At the CFDAs, Stan told L’OFFICIEL about his look for the night, his connection to Thom Browne, and how clothing and costumes impact his performances. Read on for the interview.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

L’O: Tell me about your look for the CFDA awards.

Sebastian Stan: Thom Browne’s take on black tie-not traditional, polished in a new way and comfortable while being structured. I appreciate taking things a little less seriously, especially during awards season. I love my straight tie and knit vest—less serious, but certainly not less appropriate.

L'O: How would you describe your off-duty style? What do you wear on a day off?

SS: Jeans and a tee shirt.

L’O: What character that you’ve played is most likely to wear Thom Browne?

SS: Carter Baizen would wear the hell out of a Thom Browne suit.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

L’O: Your roles in A Different Man and The Apprentice are very physical performances... and so is Bucky Barnes. How do you approach creating a character’s physicality?

SS: It all actually starts from the inside out. Muscles have memory. We wear our pains, our pride, our truth: the ones we project and the ones we keep hidden from the world. It all depends on what’s driving somebody…The need for love, the need to be heard, the need to prove, the need to hide, etc. Everything influences how you move and you walk. Obviously when you’re playing real people the clues are already there to study. Like an instrument. With something like A Different Man, there’s a backstory and the prosthetics influenced everything. Similar with Bucky Barnes. His past is always in his body.

L’O: How do clothes and costumes enhance your performance?

SS: I love costumes because they speak for themselves. When you walk in a room immediately people look at you and what you’re wearing tells a story. The choices one makes in terms of portraying themselves to the world are very revealing. So costumes are a big piece of the character before any words are even said. They also influence the way you walk. I’m particular about shoes. What kind of shoes a character wears. Sneakers make you walk a certain way boots a totally different way. Maybe you stand up taller as a result and so on. Same with clothes. A suit affects everything. So does a pair of jeans you’ve lived in for a decade.

Sebastian Stan in Thom Browne for the CFDA Awards 2024

#Sebastian Stan #L’officiel #L'OFFICIEL #L'OFFICIEL Magazine #Photoshoot #CFDA Awards #CFDA #Awards #mrs-stans

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overrboarrd · 3 months ago

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roman reigns x rogue [oc]

word count : 3.3k

warnings: mentions of alcohol and smoking, vulgar language, suggestive content

a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend…she’s baaack! the first chapter is relatively the same, i just did a few minor changes. i also realized i wanted to switch it from a self-insert to an original character for story purposes. if you’ve read the first version, welcome back! and to those who are new to me, i hope you enjoy! <3

CHAPTER ONE: ACQUAINTED

There was a sea of them.

Loosely unbuttoned Brioni suits.

Platinum Audemar Piguets that glistened underneath scarlet lights.

A nauseating deluge of Creed Aventus and Tom Ford cologne circulated through the atmosphere. VIXENS. The neon sign above the stage so boldly revealed what the clients were there to spend ‘hard earned’ money on. Some were fresh blood, possibly there to have a brief escape from their mundane lives. Or more frequently, engaged men grieving their final taste of true freedom, surrounded by friends that solemnly swore to never reveal the infidelities of the night. The most lucrative men, however, were few and far between. They would enter through the tall obsidian doors, eyes roaming through the crowd for one woman. Until then, they’d saunter to a concealed section towards the back of the club. Twenty dollar bills would fall to the floor, while two to three hand picked dancers kept the charitable donors entertained as they waited.

She took one last look over her body. Heart-shaped lips rubbed against each other, their deep red color contrasting against her golden brown skin. Her hands ran through wavy crimson extensions, making sure they were secured properly to her head. Swarovski crystals embellished black patent leather that barely covered the most intimate parts of her body. A deep sigh escaped her lips, while a guttural, nagging voice played in the back of her mind.

‘I will not tolerate a whore for hire as my daughter.’

‘You will not be a part of this family.’

She shook her head, gathering her thoughts as she walked up to the closed curtain. A millisecond later, the announcer’s gruff voice boomed into the microphone.

“Gentleman, I introduce you to our main event of the evening. La charmante et mystérieuse dame en Rouge!”

Applause erupted from the crowd as the main lights dimmed, a single spotlight highlighted where the large fabric started to divide. Slowed music with hints of echoes and reverb flooded the speakers. Whistles traveled randomly throughout the club as she made her way to the center of the stage, her hands delicately grabbing the silver pole. She walked languidly in a circle, eyes meeting familiar faces. Many of her high paying regulars were there. Their lustful eyes roamed the sparkling garment that adorned her. She relinquished control to the music that pulsated through her veins, her back pressing against the cold metal as she inched to the floor, legs spread and chest perched. Her routine was the same almost every night; The main stage dance, which differed slightly depending on the night, the walk through the crowd, and then the final walk back to the stage. She always managed to keep the same three marks: dance for a group near the stage, give a quick lap dance to one of her regulars near the middle, then tease one of the moguls at the section in the back, just to keep the boss happy and well paid.

Each move was executed flawlessly. Jaws fell to the floor, pockets emptied by the second. Her fingers caressed the shoulder of an eager gentleman who quickly began to tremble underneath her touch. A smirk spread across her face as she made her way to the back section, shoulders high while her heart raced in anticipation.

Inhale. Exhale. Fifteen thousand. Almost halfway there. Her chest tightened with every step, the goal within reach, but each bill felt heavier than the last. It wasn't just about the money. It was everything—her studio, her family, the fear that her soul might get lost in the atmosphere of Vixen’s before she could make it out. The internal encouragement barely soothed her nerves, while her heels clacked across the black floor to the relaxed tempo of the music.

Three unfamiliar figures lounged against the corner leather couch.

Two gazes lingered on her attire as she arrived in the middle of their section.

One clenched jaw almost went unnoticed.

An unwavering pair of dilated pupils stared at her as her hands traveled down the front of her body, slowly making their way to the floor. Her derrière emulated ocean waves while she held her ankles. Two of the men, twins from what she observed, were in fitted black crew necks, with black slacks to match. If it wasn’t for the stark difference in their hairstyles, she wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart. The duo followed the club’s protocol, grinning while throwing a few bills and keeping their hands to themselves. Their companion, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic. His hair was slicked back into a neat bun, all 42 muscles in his face were relaxed, perfectly unreadable. His hands clasped together, thumb running over the 24 karat gold band that wrapped around his index finger, posture still somewhat upright.

It threw her off, to say the least.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, shifting her attention to the stoic man. Her stomach knotted as she met his gaze. There was something about him—an authority, a quiet confidence that clashed violently with the sleaze surrounding him. It wasn’t just his size or his looks; it was the intensity behind his stillness, as if he could see right through her, past the dance, past the act. She walked around the small table in the middle of the section to stand directly in front of him. His eyes never left hers. Not when her palms pressed against his shoulders, cleavage spilling over the shiny black leather as she straddled his muscular thighs. Not when she slid a perfectly manicured finger underneath the thin straps on her shoulder, causing it to cascade down her arms. His composed expression did cease to exist, however, when the garment almost completely revealed her breasts. Large tawny hands flew to her chest, unintentionally cupping the soft mounds as he held the fabric against her.

“Get up.” His deep voice commanded firmly, carrying loud enough for the tables nearest to them to hear.

A small gasp escaped her lips as she blinked, body frozen in place, completely taken aback. Her eyes scanned the crowd for security. The four men, gargantuan in their own right, didn’t dare move from their positions against the wall. ‘No touching the dancers.’ The sign posted near the entrance was as clear as day. It was then she became acutely aware of her audience’s eyes still on her. The heart that raced in anticipation only a few minutes earlier now pounded in embarrassment. Small trembling hands pushed the stranger’s rather large ones away from her, pulling the bustier to its correct position. Her eyes met his again. Stunned. She swung her legs over his, quickly removing herself from his lap, hoping their small scene wasn’t too noticeable. As she turned to leave, a tight grip wrapped around her wrist. A thick wad of hundred dollar bills, folded neatly in a blue rubber band, was placed in her hand. She threw a hardened glare the man’s way as she left their section, trying to disregard the flames that blazed throughout her body.

Though she did her best to perform the remainder of her set unfazed, the crowd’s energy was drastically different than before. Multiple stares alternated between her place on the broad stage and the dim area where she once was. A few clients left before she finished. The other dancers whispered amongst themselves while she briskly walked backstage towards the locker room, barely making it through the door before a forceful yank pulled her back.

“What the hell was that?” A hoarse voice breathed down her neck, the acrid stench of cigarette smoke permeated her nostrils. She turned her face up in disgust before snatching her arm away from the gaunt man.

“Oh I’m sorry Vince, did my dance mess up your deal? ” She huffed sarcastically, taking a few steps to create some distance between them, leaning against the blotchy wall in the narrow hallway.

“That was hardly a dance.” His chapped lips formed into a scowl.

Her shoulders shrugged carelessly. “No one told you to watch me like a hawk.” She bickered. “Besides, your sugar daddy told me to get off of him. Wasn’t my fault.” Another small knot formed in her stomach as the stranger’s smooth voice replayed in her head. His firm touch still lingered on her skin. “How important is this one, anyway?” She inquired before thinking. Vince never shared too much about his investors, all she knew was that a few of them would randomly show up at the club during the week. Vince would call herself and about four of the best dancers into his office to let them know that major clients were there, and that they needed to give them their utmost attention. Whatever they said, went, with no questions asked.

“His name is Roman Reigns. Just know that he could pay us very well.” Vince curtly answered, sparing whatever details about his arrangement with the extremely reticent man. She mindlessly toyed with the stack of money in her hand while Vince’s nonsense about the ‘importance of the elite clientele’ went in one ear and out the other. Wasting the little breath that he truly needed to save.

Long, grimy fingers snatched the roll of bills from her grasp. “Since you blatantly ruined what would’ve been the biggest investment for the club this year, I’ll take this for my troubles.” A smug smile spread across his face, and before she could protest, Vince’s hunched back turned towards her. Leaving her beyond infuriated and at least a thousand dollars short.

The longer Mr. Reigns and company resided in the back of the club, the more spectators decided to end their festivities early. None of her regulars requested their usual private dances, and almost all of her earnings came from hammered guests who’d try disputing their drunken splurges with their bank first thing in the morning. She did her best to secure new clients and avoid the trio for the remainder of the night, to both of which she had no avail. After admitting defeat to regaining the money Vince graciously took from her, she took her final trip of the night to the locker room. It was almost empty, most of the other girls left once they got done performing. The highlight of the job, or the club really, was that no one’s shift needed to be longer than a few hours. Especially if they were highly esteemed. Fortunately, she was. Unfortunately, it had seemed some of her rapport was ruined due to her encounter with Roman.

Misplaced lipsticks and bobby pins were scattered everywhere while she sat at the extended vanity. She stuffed the gray duffle bag with drugstore makeup, heels, and her jewelry that she began to take off until the repulsive smell of nicotine surrounded her again. The sound of a flicked lighter pierced her ears, a small, soft yellow glow appeared in the reflection of the mirror.

“What now?”

“Go put your heels back on. You got a private dance in ten.”

Her body swiveled in the metal chair, confusion etched on her face. “All of my regulars left.”

Vince’s pull from the cigarette was unnecessarily drawn out. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth where he exhaled the virulent smoke.

“Roman would like to see you. Alone.”

————

It was supposed to be like every other night.

Go to the club. Get on stage. Get the money. Go home.

How she ended up in a completely new outfit, on the way to perform for the same man who ruined her entire routine earlier, was beyond her. After Vince barged in the locker room informing her of the last minute encore, he advised her to change and reminded her to do whatever Roman wished. The last thing she wanted to do was possibly ruin his deal again and lose more money, so she reluctantly obliged. Her attire this time was much simpler. No crystals or embellishments, or anything to bring any more attention to herself. ‘Ironic.’ She thought. Chills crept up her spine as she walked closer towards the private suites. When she tried to do her job, he wouldn’t let her. ‘So why the hell does he want to see me now?’ Her mind scanned over an imaginary list that yielded no answer.

Two knocks.

She exhaled a shaky breath. Then she entered.

He was already seated on the red channeled loveseat, a glass of scotch, neat, sat on the small table beside him. And like their first encounter earlier, his eyes latched onto hers. The music, reminiscent of a classic Janet Jackson song played through the overhead speaker. She stood still for a moment, afraid to make another wrong move. Terrified, to risk the job that allowed her to achieve her dream. An internal ‘pull yourself together’ spoke softly, before she decided to proceed with her routine.

She took a few slow steps forward, easily finding a pace to complement the music. Her petite hands caressed every curve of her body as she walked, with slim fingers that glided down the valley between her breasts and around to her wide hips. It was then Roman’s eyes followed the trail her fingers left. He sat up and leaned slightly leaned forward, his elbows rested on his thighs as she inched closer to him. Her short path from the door ended right in front of him, and his brown eyes worked their way up her body before meeting hers again. He reclined back into the couch, legs spread wide. A wordless gesture inviting her to stand between them that she hesitantly accepted. Her body continued to flow with the music without touching him- given his abrupt reaction from earlier.

She took the liberty to disrupt the silence between them.

“So, what brings you here tonight?”

“Small talk?” His voice was quiet, playing smoothly in her ear, but the tension in it was hard to miss. “This place isn’t for that.” He paused, just long enough for her to see something flicker in his eyes—regret, hesitation, something that didn’t quite match the ruthless image he was trying to project.

Her involuntary grimace from his harshness caused him to tense.

“Needed the distraction.” He offered a short answer.

She nodded silently in response. Her eyes lowered, avoiding his prolonged gaze.

He watched as she continued to maneuver effortlessly, her body perfectly aligned, head held high. Her arms extended gracefully outward, fingers delicately splayed on the back of the couch as she circled him. He felt a rush of adrenaline and a heightened awareness of his own senses-some which he hadn’t felt in years. Each of her movements flowed seamlessly into the next, like a river meandering through a serene landscape. The rapid beat of his heart betrayed his usual unmoved demeanor, struck by her grace and skill. She was mesmerizing, and he found himself admiring her physical prowess and the confidence she exuded, as if she was absorbing the music into her very being.

Her legs carried her around the room with purpose, each step, each turn taking her to a new part of the space. She sunk to the floor, her legs extended in a perfect split once she resumed her place in front of him. After ascending from the floor into a poised stance, she allowed herself to fully take him in; staring at his darkened eyes, trailing over his full lips down to his thick beard. Her teeth captured her bottom lip as her eyes moved to his broad shoulders and muscular arms that barely fit in the black long sleeved shirt. Her proximity and the scent of her perfume almost completely overwhelmed him.

Roman picked up the chilled glass, raising it to his lips and taking a slow sip, seeking refuge from the palpable tension between them before meeting her gaze again.

“How badly do you need this job?”

Her head jerked slightly before tilting to one side, brows knitting together and lips turning downward. “What the fuck is your problem?” She was absolutely over it. Vince and every single one of his arrogant, entitled clients could go to the trenches of hell for all she cared. As much as she loved the fast money, she wouldn’t continue to tolerate the disrespect.

“You seem to think you own this place,” her voice stayed calm, but her eyes flashed with anger. “And maybe you will. But don’t act like you own me.”

A scoff escaped Roman’s full lips and his brows raised.

“You should be thanking me for the payday. I know your other clients are only giving you spare change.”

“What payday? You haven’t dropped a dime since you’ve been in here.” She argued.

“The money I put in your hand.” He stated matter-of-factly. “That definitely wasn’t for the show you put on earlier. If that’s what you want to call it.”

It took everything in her not to smack the smug look off of his handsome face. “The money that Vince took due to the show that you ruined, mind you.” Her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head, her legs carrying her away from him. “Who even comes to a strip club if they don’t want to be touched.” Her big eyes bore through his as she stood next to the door.

Roman rose from his position on the couch. His heavy feet stormed over to her and he looked down as his statuesque form towered over her.

“Vince did what?”

Her eyes widened as she mentally slapped herself for letting her anger get the best of her. As much as she couldn’t stand the man, the last thing she wanted to do was jeopardize Vixens, especially for the other women. She shook her head, grabbing the door handle. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Here.” He reached out to grab her wrist again to stop her from leaving, and she felt the, presently unwanted, warmth engulf her body. Roman reached in his pocket, pulling out his wallet.

Incautiously, she reached out to stop him, her palm brushing the top of his hand. She retracted it almost immediately after noticing his nostrils flare.

“Don’t tell Vince I gave this back to you.” He commanded, pushing past her and walking out of the suite.

Her pupils followed him as he left, eyes wide, and unblinking as she processed his words. What was he doing? First, he humiliated her, and now this? Her fingers tightened around the cash while her red lips formed a perfect 'O', looking down at the even thicker bundle of money he placed in her hand.

————

‘Vince has lost his mind.’ Roman shot a text to the twins, informing them of his location before he stormed into Vince’s office, catching the son of a bitch with his legs propped on his desk and counting the money that he more than likely shorted from his dancers.

The slimeball shot up from his seat, fumbling to put up the loose bills.

“Mr. Reigns-” He clapped nervously. “Please come in, have a seat.”

“I’ll stand.” Roman snipped.

Vince’s jaw clenched. “How was the rest of your evening? I take it that my Vixens treated you and your companions well?” His eyes looked past Roman’s shoulders to Jimmy and Jey as they stood in the doorway.

His Vixens. Roman restrained himself from rolling his eyes at the dense man. “More or less.” He decided to keep the conversation with Rogue to himself. "Are you ready to talk business?” A single brow raised as he glared at him.

An eager nod came from Vince. He walked to the door, shutting and locking it after the twins fully entered the office.

“Although I have a few propositions to make-” Roman’s gaze lingered on the pile of bills Vince had tried to hide. He didn’t care about the money, but the way Vince treated his girls, especially Rogue—it mattered now. “We have a deal,” Roman said, his voice hard as stone, but his mind was already elsewhere. This was only the beginning.

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x black!oc

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thecapodomme · 29 days ago

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Just watched Megan's Doc...

AND WE RIDE AT MIDNIGHT!

because the fact she said " He kept catching me when I was out of my mind."

Is CRAZY.

I don't like that. And they glossed it over like some cheap patent leather shoes, bruh. 🥺

SO FUCK ALL THOSE NOBODY PODCAST NIGGAS, TORY, KELSEY, DRAKE, CHRIS BROWN! , PARDI, EVERY . SINGLE. ONE. ALL THEM NIGGAS.

#in her words #mts #megan the stallion #prime video

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sidekick-hero · 11 months ago

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written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge 'hole', words: 404

Rating: Gen (I DID IT!) | Tags: au, mechanic!eddie, steve 'always the goddamn babysitter' Harrington, meet cute

It's all Dustin's fault.

That's really his only thought as Steve walks off the road toward the only sign of civilization for miles; a small and unassuming building that seems to house a hole-in-the-wall roadside restaurant.

It's Dustin's fault that he's stranded in the middle of nowhere between Hawkins and Indianapolis, his car broken down on the side of the road in the wee hours of the morning. Steve should have seen it coming. Of course, his little brother and his ragtag group of friends had to sneak off to the big city for a concert, despite their parents' explicit prohibition. And of course he called Steve to pick them up.

Steve grumbled and bitched about it, but in the end he got in his car to pick them up without telling their parents.

The tantalizing smell of greasy roadside food greets him as he enters the old wooden building. His stomach rumbles loudly, and as he tries to swallow the saliva that gathers in his mouth, he realizes how damn hungry he is after walking for miles.

Steve steps up to the counter and gives the tired but friendly looking waitress one of his patented Steve Harrington smiles as he explains his crisis to her.

"Oh, sweetie, sure, the phone's over there. There's also the number of the nearest auto shop next to it. Give them a call, they'll fix you up in no time. And then come back here for a bite to eat."

Steve does as he's told and orders a grilled cheese sandwich once he's done. He reaches for his wallet to pay, but the waitress stops him. "It's already paid for," she says, pointing to a man sitting in a booth by the window. He has dark curls pulled back in a messy bun and a three-day beard that highlights the sharp angles of his face. The leather jacket and jean vest complement the ruggedly handsome look, but what stops Steve is the warmth in his dark brown eyes that lock with his as he gives Steve a shy smile and wiggles his fingers in a goofy wave.

He grabs his sandwich and walks over to thank the man, whose smile grows until dimples wink at Steve.

"No need, sweetheart. Heard your car broke down. Maybe I can help you out. I'm Eddie."

"I'm Steve."

It's Dustin's fault that Steve met Eddie, and he never lets Steve forget it.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddiemicrofic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing

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bebemoon · 2 months ago

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look for the name SAMANTHA (requested by anonymous) | sandy liang "napkin" navy gingham pleated mini dress w/ oversized sailor collar, aurembiaix silver-grey knitted spats w/ hook and eye fastenings, alaïa criss cross patent leather ballerina flats in black, vintage pearl screw-back earrings, thom browne "lucido mrs. thom" mini bag in black

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bucknastysbabe · 9 months ago

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Rating: Explicit

Tags: College!au, modern!au, nerd loser baby Criston, loss of virginity, hot stem computer partner girly, older girl, Alicent for the win, short n sweet n smutty, pnv!sex, first dates, Criston’s inner dialogue, subby lil baby

Taglist: @bambitas @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @starogeorgina @moncherrii @valeskafics @arcielee @lovelykhaleesiii @sugarpoppss2

A/N: shout-out to @fairysluna “he looks like a loser who jacks off to hentai but I’d fuck him.” I made the divider :)

Criston knew he was a fucking incel. Maybe at some point in his miserable life he could’ve done a sport and use his decent height and muscle tone. But no, he was cripplingly shy and had a stutter that took forever to get rid of— sometimes rearing its ugly head when he was angry or flustered.

He spent his time studying, playing league of legends, and jerking off obscenely to hentai. Yes, the Japanese porn comics. It was easier to ignore how pathetic he was reading those or talking to a chat bot that thought everything he said was hot.

Criston thought best to keep under the radar, head down and attentive in his classes. One day he’d be a rich computer scientist Silicon Valley type and then he could just, like, have the girls come to him. Because he’d be rich. No longer weird, ugly, and a huge VIRGIN. He felt like it was stamped on his forehead. Or perhaps his was the Star Wars buttons on his jacket— that’s a big cue.

He tucked a dark hair behind his ear, shaking his head. Another year, but one less until he could move on in life. Cole was glad he was in college, it was scores better than the constant bullies in highschool. It was his second year now and he was ahead of schedule. He’d be in an upper level compsci class with some juniors or seniors.

Scary.

Maybe there would be some other weirdo girl like him that would take pity and they could fuck, then go to Thursday’s Dungeons and Dragons like it never occurred. He’d like that. Swift and easy. Erryk Cargyll and Elinda Massey did that. But the only girl he considered ‘friend’ was Alicent and he was pretty sure she was a lesbian. Also totally not a nerd, Ali was very cool and involved.

He sighed while ducking into a seat. Criston carefully placed his stuff down at the two person desk, focusing on getting the PC ready. The instructions on the board were simple enough.

A waft of perfume and the presence of another body startled Criston. He jumped in place, brown eyes glancing over at the girl- no- woman. She was fucking hot. Like why was she sitting next to him type of hot?

“Hi,” she extended a hand, eyes roving, “Criston!”

“H-how do you know m-my name?,” he echoed stupidly, shaking her dainty hand, eyes comically wide.

She gently let go of his hand after shaking one second too long and giggled, “It’s on your backpack.” Criston blushed bright red and nodded, “Yeah, you’re right, ha-haha?” Oh God he was going to self combust. She was so hot. Like she had these patent leather boots on, a little red plaid skirt, and some tight-ass high-necked white tank.

“What’s your name?,” he managed, grateful the stutter wasn’t making too much of an appearance. She smiled and told him, baring white teeth and cherry red lips. The teacher droned from the front, “Glad you’re acquainted now, that will be your partner for the rest of the semester.”

Cole was going to jizz himself. Not in the fun way? Maybe the fun way? He was terrified. He had to tell the boys on Thursday. The beauty next to him raised her brows and flicked one of his errant curls. She whispered, “Can’t wait, Criston!”

Oh God. Oh God! He wasn’t going to make it.

“Hnghhhh, fuck yes, I am your sempai, mmm,” Criston flopped back from his hentai and laid on the bed, “Fuck. This sucks.” His cock was still hard and nothing was cutting it recently. The twenty year old’s mind was settled on his computer science partner. Who was obscenely beautiful and sexy and smelled good and so so so smart.

Oh. He was jacking off again. Maybe this was what the missing piece was. Criston closed his eyes and began to pump his cock some more, imagining her perky tits bouncing as he fucked her over a desk. He gasped sharply, prick twitching excitedly at something tangible.

He thought about the cute way she’d laugh at his dumb jokes. Or when he’d fix something in a faulty program and she’d purr, “Oh! Smart boyyyy.” He whined through his nose, squirming in place, imagining her breathing that in his ear. Criston cried out sharply, cumming so damn hard spunk reached his collarbones.

He laid there breathless, a dopey smile across his face. She was so perfect. He laid in his post-nut bliss and pondered his partners actions. For a girl older and way cooler than him, she sure did enjoy talking to him, even had his number, and they met outside of class to work on their project.

Could there be? No, no. Totally not.

The nerd thought about the times she blushed or would bat his shoulder. Or the time they nearly kissed putting together a PC. She’d merely laughed and said, “Just have to ask me!” He had a meltdown and awkwardly laughed it off. Criston did the same when she was wearing a low-cut top and she breathed, “I wore this for you today, I know you wanna look Cole.”

He sat upright with a bolt.

“Wait what?” he shouted.

“Shut the fuck up loser!,” came the reply of his apartment roommate. Criston rolled his eyes and blinked a couple more times. He still had cum drying on his shoulders from jacking off about the girl of his pathetic dreams and she might be into him? He needed a long shower and help from Ali— stat.

She came through quite quickly after he sent the SOS message. First Ali wrinkled her nose at his room and complained, “Ugh, I’m glad I brought my candles. It smells like man in here. God.” He gave her puppy eyes until the redhead exclaimed, “What?”

“You gotta help me!,” he pled, “I uh- someone likes me back?”

It was a flurry of cinnamon scented womanly magic after his admission. Bless Alicat.

The auburn haired girl swished through Criston’s wardrobe. She raised a brow at him and asked, “Is there anything in here that doesn’t have a logo or some strange wording on it? I can’t believe you just realized she was into you, I could smack you!”

He sat on the bed, freshly showered and in his briefs. Alicent and him had known each other since childhood— this was nothing new. Ali helped him type out a witty way to ask her out tonight without being too dorky. Criston eked, “I think I have some button downs my dad gave me, but they’re probably shoved somewhere.”

“Aha! Found them, still pressed too. I think this darker tan will look good,” she said while stepping out of the closet. Honors college had nice digs. It did pay to be a nerd. Criston eyed the polo shirt, leagues away from his usual t-shirts and jackets.

Alicent narrowed her eyes. He hopped up and sighed, “Fine, fine, I’m putting it on. Just lemme get the undershirt.”

Now he was clad in a nice top, some not worn-to-death jeans, and his rarely used church loafers. He was a pretty shitty Catholic. Alicent styled his wild curls, giggling, “Look at you go, who would’ve thought, you two are going to be some lookers!”

Criston rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Yeah, hoping she doesn’t mind the big neon-lit ‘virgin’ sign over my head.”

Ali snickered, “Or the nasty cartoons you jerk it too, might wanna get rid of that evidence if you’re planning on getting that far, yeah stud?”

He blanched, stuttering up a storm as she laughed. Criston grabbed all and any evidence of his…prior predilections..and hid them under the bed. In a big lockbox. Then completely wiped his browser history and any suspicious downloads. Fire walled it or whatever.

He sighed again, getting jittery, reading a text from the cutie.

‘Hey handsome, still see you in 30 on the plaza? I’m excited for the pizza and games! 💋’

Criston immediately squawked, “Ali!”

She ‘tsked’ and looked at the text. Then looked back at him with a funny look. Alicent deadpanned, “You’re such an idiot for being smart. I wish half the girls I texted were this forward. Just tell her yes, you can’t wait, you know she’s gonna look gorgeous and throw some emoji in!”

“So you are a lesbian?”

“And you’re not telling a soul!”

They pinky promised, Ali giving him a warm hug and pat on the cheek. She teased, “Luv yaaaa Nerd, don’t forget to wrap it!” He blushed and waved her off. Criston rubbed the back of his neck, glad he had such a good friend. He quickly typed back.

‘Hi- yeah I’ll see you there. I know you’ll be gorgeous, can’t wait xx’

The date had gone great. They didn’t ID either. So beers, pizza, and dumb arcade games they played. Criston probably had her up-down look at him sketched into his mind. She was in a cutesy dress herself, cut mid-thigh and a heart shaped window in the front to show her…assets. Not to forget some Doc’s he would gladly be stomped by.

“Criston, oh my god, you look so cute, who dressed you up,” she pulled him into a tight hug, whispering, “Should I be jealous?”

He sheepishly smiled, “No, just my childhood friend, she’s kinda, we’re not, you know.”

His class partner giggled, patting his chest, “No need, I gotcha. We all need those friends. C’mon let’s go!”

He couldn’t help but goofily smile down at her as they held hands walking to the pizza joint. Sometimes Criston would get so lost in his head and self-conscious, it would seem like he was always underfoot. But tonight, with her, he felt his right size. She grabbed their interlaced hands and pecked his skin, giggling.

Christ have mercy, lord have mercy. He was so down bad.

But as he said, the night went awesome. Conversation never lulled, he taught her the secret to ski-ball, and she schooled Criston in pac-man. He got his first kiss on the walk back, paused at the stoplight, waiting to walk. She pulled back and murmured, “You’ve been the best date.”

Criston, likely all moony eyes now, gushed back, “God, same, really, you’re great you know that? I’m just a bit clueless.”

She shrugged, “That’s okay. We don’t have to know everything.”

They walked near the honor’s college. They both chirped at the same time, “You uh-“ then burst into laughter. Criston grinned and ran a hand through his inky hair. He shuffled his balance and gestured, “Do you want to come back to my room? It’s all clean and female verified.”

“Lead the way handsome.”

Criston was glad for the bit of liquid courage still in his system, kissing and hugging on his ‘friend girl’? She was so sweet and touchy, it was driving him mad. He idly wondered if she was all sweet and adorable like that in bed. Thankfully his dick was tucked away.

The brunette keyed into his room, her arms around his waist, face smushed into his back. The junior cooed, “You smell good, you’re the cutest thing I swear, can’t believe this.” Criston eyed her nervously as he stepped in, replying, “You’re a catch, I can’t believe anyone wouldn’t go for you.”

She straightened up, looking into his dark eyes as she admitted, “No, it wasn’t that I was lacking…just searched for the wrong attention I suppose. You’re actually respectful.”

Criston smiled at that, snorting, “Catholic boy values I guess.”

“Or you are a good boy like I said,” she teased, thumbing Criston’s now-flaming cheeks.

“Can I kiss you again?” he eagerly asked.

They locked lips again, her arms around his neck, Criston tilting his face so his damn nose wouldn’t get in the way. His hands were politely shaking at her waist as they made out. Her tongue softly lapped into his mouth, the man gasping and returning the favor.

She moved his shaky hands down to her ass with a snicker. Criston groaned between kisses as he groped her pert ass— fuck, this was heaven! Cole walked her backwards towards the bed, pushing her back onto the freshly made covers. She smiled up at him, lips plump, the led lights from his room casting a neat glow.

“Come on then, can you get the shoes?,” she teased while shucking off her tight black dress. Criston eagerly dropped to the ground, whimpering as his hard cock painfully brushed against the fly of his pants. He quickly undid the thick boots and neatly placed them to the side.

Coming back up, he got an eyeful of pretty fucking titties and manicured hands on his waist. She purred, “Heard you down there, all good babes?” Criston nodded with a swallow and pathetic noise. She cooed while undoing his belt and pants, reminding him of the button down.

Now Criston’s lean body was on display with her own, only underwear between the two. That was perfectly dandy for him as he clambered over her perfect form, now playfully making out on their sides. Every single time his cock would graze the random throw pillow between them he’d whimper into her wet mouth, growing flustered. The front of his briefs were getting sticky.

He tried to not to rut against it, but he had a handful of fucking tit and her soft lips and noises, and Criston was only a weak little bitch! She pulled back to laugh, “You know, I’d much prefer you fuck me making those cute noises. But that’s up to you baby.”

He blinked owlishly, hand moving up her thigh to ask. “You don’t want me to uh- touch you first?”

“Sweetheart, I’m wet enough as is and we can worry about alllll that other stuff later hm?”

Criston made a gutted noise, nodding. She was right, he’d blow all over himself if he got to feel around her pussy for a bit. He rasped, “Yeah, okay, good- lemme get the condom.” He reached over her smaller frame, digging around the side table for the damn condom, trying to put his bravest face on.

Criston made a little ‘aha’ as he snagged the packet, settling onto his haunches and ripping the packet with his teeth. Meanwhile she undid her bra and shucked down wet panties, the slickness hitting his lean thigh. “Hng-fucking shit!,” the brunette accidentally moaned.

“Yeah babes? That’s all for you, here, lemme help.”

She grabbed the tacky lubed condom, rolling it on Criston, her teeth biting into a plump lip. He shuddered through the movement, taught tummy tensing and rolling as he tried to calm down. “There we go, you’re alright, just breathe sweeatheart,” the girl cooed.

Criston nodded haphazardly, easing himself onto his elbows, staring wide-eyed into her own. He wanted to blab about being a virgin, how he was scared of fucking up, how damn pretty and sweet the brunette thought she was. The beauty pecked his lips and cooed, “I know, take it easy, s’fine Criston.”

He jerkily nodded again, lashes fluttering against the faint neon lighting. Criston grabbed his cock and began to ease it into her, gasping wetly. His computer partner took over from there, wrapping soft legs around his waist, murmuring sweet nothings.

Soon he was seated inside her tight, warm, velvet pussy. Criston buried his face between her tits, sniveling and gasping as he tried to fight off every single nerve in his body screaming to let go. He tried to speak, more of a plethora of strangled whines and whimpers escaping his raw throat.

“Shhh, don’t think so much, s’okay Cris, you’re okay,” she hummed while petting soft hands down his heaving flanks and sides. Plush lips planted a kiss on his suddenly wet cheeks. God he was a mess. A whiny, flimsy, wet mess. The way she was squeezing around him made the rational part of his brain realize she enjoyed the pitiful sex still.

“Hn-okay? I- uhohgod- okay?”

She smiled and kissed him, the heels of her feet ushering Criston on. He began to pump slowly, liking the way her soft moan made his chest puff in excitement. The brunette began to build a decent rhythm, panting and moaning between sloppy kisses. He got lost in the feeling, truly.

Soon the cutie was gasping and begging, “Don’t cum yet, j-just, Criston, touch my clit, it’s the nub at the top, yes!, right there!” He listened carefully, thumbing at her swollen nub, panting like a racehorse between suckling at budded nipples. He’d ended up at a breakneck pace, completely over any pretense he was going to make a manly noise tonight.

Criston fought off his orgasm, although it was on top on him now. He moved his lips to hers again, swirling his thumb, thrusting his slim hips into perfect goddamn pussy. He gasped, “Oh, oh, oh God, m’gonna cum baby, m’gonna cummmmm!” The boy would definitely never admit he somewhat squealed.

His cutie whined excitedly under the loud sounds of the bed creaking, lean hips clapping into her softer flesh. She begged, “Right there sweetheart, mm, good boy, good boy! Right there with you!” She clung to his shoulders and tightened down, chanting Criston’s name like a litany.

Criston Cole was pretty sure he saw God when his balls drew up and he slammed back into her welcoming pussy. Sure, there was a condom, but the sophomore’s ears still rung with the choir of angels and he probably sounded like a slip of a thing getting her cunt pounded but it was worth it. So very worth it.

He kept playing with her clit until she milked him, again, crying out happily, throwing her pretty hair back and groaning throatily. “Ohhhhh, f-fuck, oh my god, mmm!,” he eloquently replied to her, feeling another little peak pass through his overstimulated system. He collapsed against her soft frame, panting softly, whimpering every other breath.

Oh god he was crying, this was not the time to be— oh she kissed it away.

“That’s alright baby, you did great, Mhm,” she hummed and nuzzled against his face.

Huh. Maybe he was in love now. Fuck hentai.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #criston cole #ser criston cole x reader #Criston cole imagine #Ser Criston cole imagine #criston cole x reader #criston cole smut

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shinycelebs · 1 year ago

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#rose byrne #leather #coat #boots #leather coat #leather boots #patent #patent leather boots #brown #brown leather #brown leather coat #red #red leather #red patent leather #red leather boots #red patent leather boots

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carelessflower · 1 month ago

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consul alec designer pull

for @malectober prompt suits

let's take a detour to the highly influential, currently a fashion icon of the shadoworld. a pioneer and the inspiration behind consulcore, alec lightwood-bane did quiet luxury like no other

Being surprised when kissed by his warlock ex-boyfriend in Hermès Kelly Belt Bag Epsom Black ($2,750)

Dancing at Malcolm Fade's party in Rome in 1920S Savile Row Antique Morning Coat Tuxedo Tails UK TW Castle Military Tailor ($175) and Saint Laurent Silk Long Sleeve Button-Up Top ($210)

Driving his favorite Maserati with then-boyfriend Magnus Bane and nemesis Shiyun Jung, looking fabulous in Prada Brown Acetate Frame Gradient Tint Aviator Sunglasses ($655.20)

Brooding beautifully in this Polo Ralph Lauren Icon Wester Denim Shirt Light Blue ($130,52)

Another iconic vintage pull - Dior Homme SS06 red leather suspenders ($125)

For a simple scroll through the park with his partner, Alec picked this Moorer Darren UR Suede Hoodie Jacket in Orange ($4,675) number

Decked in full leather glam for City of Lost Souls photo shoot, in order: Spring Summer 1999 Gucci by Tom Ford Black Patent Leather Accent Crop Top ($1,295), Balmain Black Leather Biker Pants ($2,300), Chanel Vintage Black Leather CC Combat Boots ($2,495)

Celebrating a cozy birthday with his husband in a customed Sacai Hooded Sweatshirt With Reverse ($272)

Getting up to some mischief, wearing possibly Agent Provocateur Rozlyn White Bridal Ouvert Brief ($175)

Sipping cocktails on St Barths beach, looking so chic Versace 1990s Clear Rectangular Frame Sunglasses ($375)

Follow Instyle for more Shadoworld fashion updates and tell us what you'd like to see next!

tag list: @magnus-the-maqnificent @literallytypogod @hoezier-than-thou @sociallyineptbibliophile @queenlilith43

@khaleesiofalicante @wandererbyheart @raziyekroos @onetimetwotimesthreetimess @alexandergideonslightwood @andrwminward

@noah-herondale-lightwood @elettralightwood @dustandducks @deliciousdetectivestranger @delightfullyterrible

@letsgofortacos

@kita-no @thelightofthebane @secrettryst @goldendreams3 @cityofdownwardspirals

@stupidfuckindinosaur

@i-have-not-slept @rinadragomir @potato-jem @kasper-tag @cam-ryt

@banesapothecary

@sheisntyou @izzysimcns @culiehua

#malec #malectober #malec events #malectober24 #alec lightwood #tsc #tmi #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #the shadowhunter chronicles #tscxfashion #i take another creative liberty with the prompt #prompt: suits

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imnotjaesblog · 1 year ago

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Part 5: The Jock

Starring: Lee Jeno

Summary: Unlike some of the other men in Y/n's life Jeno is no stranger. He's had the luxury of knowing and admiring her ever since they were little. He's been his end goal since he was ten and promised a spot at the company if he married his father's best friend's daughter. Jeno wanting only the best for himself and his family kept that promise and has waited years for his moment. It's only after a certain someone starts to spill the details of Y/n's plans of revenge does he start to remember what made him so interested and sometimes so uninterested in her in the first place. In Jeno's eyes, it's only okay when the worst isn't happening to him. Too bad he's next on her list.

Warnings: Smut, Oral (F.m reciving) Y/n gives Jeno a handjob. Intercourse, Curisng and Manipulation.

MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!!

Words: 7.7k

Enjoy :)

The boy's locker room was the last place you'd ever thought you'd be. Yet here you were standing in your brown Jimmy Choo high heel boots, brown patted skirt with the brown leather jacket to match. Your hair was wrapped up in a tight bun and a Jimmy Choo Burgundy Patent And Suede Mahala Satchel is wrapped around your shoulder. Lips in a glossed purse, as you stood in the locker room with your arms, crossed over your chest and every boy's jaw on the floor.

"You can't be in here!" a boy yelled towel wrapped around his waist. But instead of shying away from you, he laughed with his friends all of them checking out your body. His body jiggled as he laughed. You walked over to him Jimmy Choo's boots made a clink as you stepped on the dripping floor. Every male in that room followed your body.

"Sweetie close your mouth. You're cuter when you're not talking," You said watching his mouth slightly open. He stared at you in awe of the pet name and the fact that it came from your lips. He reached over with a chuckle flicking his chin. The boy jerked back causing you to chuckle.

"Watch out man you'll have to take another shower," he said causing the boy to brush him off with his hand. The group of boys went to leave but you stopped one that was on the hockey team.

"Sungchan," you called touching his arm. He turned to you with a friendly smile, already fully dressed. "Yes?" he asked you. "Have you seen Jeno?" you asked back. He raised a brow thinking for a moment. "He should be in practice," he responded swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder. "I can walk you there," he offered with a warm smile. You nodded handing him your bag. He took it in his hands walking ahead as you followed walking out of the sweat and pit-smelling locker room.

Once you arrive at the official locker room for the hockey players Sungchan stops in front of you. "This is it," he said motioning to the locker door. He handed you back your purse, opening the door for himself. You stopped it from closing with your boot. His eyes widen. "You can't come in its for boys," he nervously. You shrugged, "Are they naked?" you asked. He peaked inside seeing all the men in uniform including Jeno. He pulled his head back out shaking his head. You smiled removing your boot and letting the door hit his back.

"Then let me in," you said calmly with a hint of sternness. He sighed pushing the door open. He cursed at himself in his head for letting you talk down to him and for also wanting to do whatever you told him to do.

You walked drawing attention once again with the sound of your boots. Your eyes however searched for Jeno. Seeing only two members of the team sitting at their respective benches. Your school took hockey and basketball very seriously giving both sports their own respective space to practice and change. As you walked further in you stepped on the orange and blue rug continuing your search for Jeno.

You saw Sungchan place his bag down and sit beside Haechan who turned his head when he looked at you. You smirked to yourself knowing the effect you had on him. You walked further in seeing Ten emerge in full uniform. He picked up his head smiling wide when he saw you. He rushed over to you embracing you in a hug. "Mhm you smell great," he complimented. "Same as always?" he asked and you nodded with a warm and genuine smile.

You took his hand pulling him to the side. "Where's Jeno?" you whispered. He nudged his head to the left. "In the office talking with the coach. He should be outside," he said you nodded. He began chuckling showing off his gorgeous smile. "By the way," he nudged his head forward. "Haechan is pissed," he said with a slight chuckle.

"So you see," you responded. "You really did a number on him," he said back looking away from Haechan who once he looked your way again got up and left leaving Sungchan alone. You turned back to Ten hearing a voice. The voice matched a face once he emerged from the corner. Your smile fell and your eyes slightly widened, a lump caught in your throat. Ten scanned your face worried. "What is it?" he asked seeing your face change from worry to annoyance.

He was about to turn but then he heard the boy laugh. Si Cheng is behind him talking with Yangyang. Both men laughed not even noting your presence until Yangyang opened his eyes his laughter dying once he spotted you.

"Y/n?" he questioned Si Cheng's head snapping to you almost popping a vein. "Y/n?" he questioned as well. "What are you doing here?" asked Yangyang. You attempted to find an excuse but Si Cheng beat you to it.

"She's here to meet me. Right babe?" he asked walking over to you. He pushed past Ten who stumbled back annoyed. You scoffed licking your teeth and shaking your head. Si Cheng landed by your side placing a strong arm around your waist. Dressed in his hockey uniform he pulled you closer to him. "Came to wish me luck on the game tonight," he said and you smiled with a nod. Yangyang stepped closer Sungchan coming over as well.

"I didn't know you guys were dating," said Sungchan. "How could you not everyone know? They fucked in his car, remember?" Yangyang asked. You watched Ten's hand ball up into a fist but shot him a glare. You chuckled brushing your arm. "That seems like an exsanguination," you said back calmly with a small shake of your head. "I don't sleep and tell," you said looking over at Si Cheng who clenched his jaw tightening his grip around your waist.

You watched his leg start to bounce. You bit back your own smile.

"Doesn't seem like it," he spat back.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you asked with a tilt of your head. You mouthed the words "Watch it" to Yangyang all of you watched as he scoffed and walked away. "Ten a moment alone with my boyfriend," you said to Ten who eyed the boy. Si Cheng smugly smirked ushering Ten away with his hand. "You heard her go," he said cockily. Ten went to rush at him but Sungchan stopped him placing a hand on his chest with a shake of his head. "Come on it's not worth it," he said removing Ten. You sent him a comforting smile as he left.

Once it was just you two in the locker room you stepped onto his foot hard his hand removing itself from around your waist. You turned to him, Si Cheng holding onto his aching foot a srunch in his face in pain. You bent down grabbing onto his uniform collar pulling him back up his body straightening out. His fearful eyes wide staring back into your angry ones. You dragged him to a locker pushing him up against it. "Listen, Si Cheng, I don't know how you convinced everyone that I'm on your pathetic little arm but you did. Now that you have given me no choice I will do everything in my power to destroy you,"

"Y/n come on it's all fun-" he said smugly.

"It's not fun for me. You are slowly destroying my reputation and I won't let, especially some nobody do that," You said with a shake of your head. Words spitting from your mouth like venom. Si Cheng hadn't taken this seriously. Assuming this would be a game for the two of you from now on. But now seeing the firey look in your eyes he was starting to realize who he was dealing with.

"I will rip every piece of you apart piece by piece. Destroy every bit of your social life that even the people outside who beg to be in this school will look down upon you. You will be burned to ashes when I'm done with you," you said with no stutter. You stepped closer to him just hovering over his face and with a hushed whisper you spoke.

"And I'll start with the people closest to you the same way yours did to mine," you hushed. Si Cheng's heart rate picked up when you spoke your words of warning. He needed to say something do anything to stand his ground. So he pushed your hand off his arm jerking it back. He stepped closer to you causing you to step back.

"Okay, baby you wanna play this kind of game? You know who my father is-" he warned.

"And you know mine. Try and threaten me," you spat back with a confident smirk. You crossed your arms over your chest watching Si Chjeng closely as he went to speak however his words died on his tongue when the captain of the hockey team stepped out of the coach's office.

You looked over his shoulder with a sinful smile. Si Cheng's eyebrow raised confused. He went to speak but you shushed him with your hand. He stops seeing you and starts to walk away.

"Jeno!" you called grabbing the captain's attention. He turned to you with a smile. Si Cheng's heart skipped a beat poking the inside of his mouth with his tongue. You looked back at Si Cheng with a glare that was quickly replaced with a smile. Who knew behind all that glamour and good looks was an evil Easy A?

"I was looking for you," you said to Jeno as you walked past Si Cheng. Jeno smiled as you skipped over to him completely oblivious to one of his best friends watching not too far away. If this is how you were going to handle things then let there be war.

Too bad you were already a few steps ahead, taking the jewels from all the battles you've already won.

You didn't spare Si Cheng a second glance once your arm wrapped around Jeno's stepping outside the hockey team's locker room.

"I was looking for you," You said on Jeno's arm as he walked to the ice rink. He smiled shaking his head. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting," He said opening the door for you. You stepped inside the cool room rubbing your hands together. Jeno followed behind handing you his Celine hoodie. You slipped it on taking your place on a nearby bench while the hockey team began practice. Jeno slipped on his skates. Once he tied them both he stood up leaning over to place a kiss on your kiss you swiftly turned your head his kiss landing on your cheek.

He didn't think much of it taking off onto the ice rink.

Jeno and you had a small past. You weren't lovers or even close friends, it was only recently that you two became so close. However, you did know his older sister thanks to the closeness of your parents. This university was full of kids who lived wealthy lives it was just a matter of how high you were on the chain of wealth.

You sat at the top. Your parents own multiple businesses their biggest being the tech company. Jeno's father is a CEO at one of your mother's companies. The two being great friends in college she offered him a job he couldn't refuse. Making his sister, him, and you childhood friends. His father always wanted the best for his children. He wanted both to be successful, attend the best schools, and join as many clubs as possible. He wanted his children to live the life they both truly deserved and with his daughter next in line for the company he had to give his son something.

A certain Sunday afternoon at the Y/L house gave him the idea.

After your time with Yangyang that Sunday, you missed brunch with your friends, you had to attend a small brunch your parents were hosting before they left for Bejing on business. They invited a few friends, Jeno's parents being on the guest list.

And with your luck, Jeno was already on your list.

So you set the bait. During your parent's brunch, you pulled him aside. Leading him down a hallway of your childhood home. Sneaking off into your old bedroom. You shut the door after pushing him inside. He stood confused but intrigued unable to wipe the smile off his lips. You locked your bedroom door your feet not having a chance to sink into the memories of your soft carpet. You pushed Jeno onto your bed straddling. He shocked held onto your waist so you wouldn't fall. Leaning down you placed a kiss on his lips grinding against him.

He pulled away eyes wide but still holding his grip on your waist. His lips are already hot and red. A million questions flowed through his head. You had never shown any interest in him. What made you change your mind? Was it physics? He thought or maybe his cologne.

" Y/n what are you doing?" he asked chest heaving up and down. You sat back hands placed on his firm chest a small pout forming on your lips. "You don't want to?" you asked a hint of sadness in your tone. He sat up shaking his head holding you tight, close to him. "No I do its just not when your parents and my parents are in the other room," he said. You sighed lifting your leg up from his waist. You stood up, Jeno sitting up legs spread fixing his blue blazer.

"Fine," you pouted fixing yourself. Jeno stood up wanting to see me in your presence. Grabbing your arm he pulled you in his direction guiding you to your bed. He laid you down and picked up your brown flowy Prada dress that hugged your curves perfectly. He kissed his way up or thigh his action catching you by surprise. His kisses are warm and wet, the heat from his lips on your skin making your panties pool.

You sat up watching his head disappear into your dress. "Jeno I thought…our parents," you said softly eyes beginning to shut as Jeno inched closer. He lifted his head lips wet from his own drool. "I know what I said baby but you clearly need my help and I can't just let you leave when you're in pain. Does it hurt baby?" he asked and you nodded with a pout. He picked himself up with a slight nod followed by a pout placing a wet kiss on your lips.

"See baby I can leave you in pain. So let me do this okay? Let me make it better," he said kissing your jaw. You nodded handing reaching up to his hair and eyes shutting. "Okay but what will I do when it hurts again?" you asked playing along. He kissed under your ear and down your neck. Licking and sucking on the beauty mark just below your ear. "Call me and I'll help you," he said placing a kiss on your lips. You nodded turning your head to fully engulf him with your lips.

His hand glides down your body hands bunching up the cloth of your dress, hicking it, and ruffling up at your waist. His fingers slipped past your lilac panties spreading your wet folds between his cool lengthy fingers. You leaned your head back on his chest eyelids fluttering shut. Your lips parted air pushing through and fanning his skin. His fingers crept around your clit swirling the bud in small circles.

You let out an airy moan still being mindful of where you were. Jeno smirked eyes peeling from his hand that disappeared under your brown dress to your face. "That's right baby girl take it," he whispered into your ears warm breath tickling your neck. You shuddered hand reaching to grab his thigh. The faster his fingers circled your clit the higher your hand slid up his thigh gripping on his slacks, your nails digging into his skin.

"Fuck," you cursed feeling your moan get caught in your throat. He looked up checking the door. Seeing it closed the door still locked shut he looked back down with a smirk. He used his other hand to grab hold of your chin yanking your face to meet his looking deep into your eyes. "Awww," he cooed speeding up his fingers. Your lips formed a pout his eyes mocking you.

"Baby girl, are you close?" he asked darkly. You nodded your hand inching closer to his clothed cock. You nodded a knot in your stomach quickly forming but something in your gut told you there was something off about Jeno Demnor.

His hand suddenly slowed. "I'll let you cum if you answer my question," he said you huffed annoyed he brought you so close yet took it away. You rolled your eyes your hand hovering over his dick. You flicked your eyes back up to him. "Fine," you said lips forming a tight line.

"Did you fuck Si Cheng?" he asked slowly circling your clit.

You shook your head staring into his eyes.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said yes," you responded.

He smirked leaning down and placing a kiss on your lips. You turned your head his kiss landing on the corner of your mouth. You dropped your hand grabbing onto his cock and squeezing it feeling how hard he was in your hand. "But don't get in the middle baby. I know your secret," you said picking your head up. You stood up to walk away but he followed grabbing hold of your waist and throwing you onto your bed,

Your legs spread apart. Jeno flopped onto the bed laying in front of you crawling to rest in between your legs. You raised yourself on your elbows watching with a villainous smirk on your lips. Jeno grabbed hold of your thighs spreading your legs apart your dress spilling onto your waist. He ripped your panties off throwing them to the other end of your room. His cool fingers spread your fold, hot mouth engulfing your clit. His tongue flicked the bundle of nerves.

You chuckled watching him devour you.

He wasted no time abusing your clit and sucking every inch of your pussy with his wet lips. Eating you like a starved man. You felt the knot in your stomach form again. He looked up your hands spreading your thighs apart still. Your bottom lip in between your teeth stared back into his dark orbs head falling back as you spilled into his mouth. He groaned eyes shutting as she swallowed your juices coaxing his throat.

"Jeno! Y/n!" you heard your mother called. Jeno panicked letting you go. He stood up adjusting himself while you took your time licking your lips as you walked up to the anxious man. You patted his shoulder stealing his attention.

"Come see me again," you said. He smiled hand resting on your waist.

"Y/n," he began successfully hiding his boner. "I know what you're doing. I know what you've done with my friends," he said hand pulling you closer to him.

You raised a brow heart skipping a beat. Your breathing had quickened as you tried to focus on his eyes. "What do you mean?" you asked hiding the nerves in your tone.

"I know you didn't fuck Si Cheng. You would never, not even out of pity," he chuckled dark hair dusting his forehead. "But I know you Y/n, I know you have a knack for revenge," he said darkly. You pushed him off angrily. "You don't know me-"

"Yes I do," he said calmly. "I know you are planning something," he said with a step towards you. "I may not know what," he said stepping closer and closer to you, your back hitting the dresser. He hovered over you. "But I know it involves them," he said glaring into your eyes. Your chest rose up and down trying to find the words to speak. Your mind flowed with questions. How was he able to read you so well? There so no way out of the entire friend group he would figure it out.

You couldn't let him win. You couldn't let them win. You weren't even halfway and he was seconds from destroying everything. The worry on your face sparked even more of his flames.

"And if I find out what you're doing. I will destroy you," he said a hitch in your throat. You gulped fear flowing through your veins. "So for now," he helped you up taking your arm in his. "You will be my obedient and pleasant girlfriend and if you refuse I'll have my private investigator search every inch of your life and find out what you're doing," he said an unpleasant smile on his lips. "Do you understand?" he asked guiding you to your bathroom door. You nodded walking with him. He opened the door allowing you to step inside.

"Great. Now get yourself cleaned up. I'll meet you in the living room," he said with a smile as he shut the door. The minute the door shut you felt the tension in your body fade. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. You instantly grabbed your phone and dialed the number of your private investigator thinking only one thing in your head.

Jisung better not have opened his fucking mouth.

———

Once Jeno took off onto the rink you rolled your eyes removing his sweater from your body and placing it on the bench. You would rather be cold than wear his sweater.

After the team took a break you decided to leave. There was a certain boy you had to find. You stood up grabbing your purse. Jeno skated his way to you opening the door to the rink and coming to your side concerned.

“Your leaving? Why so soon?” He asked nicely turning to see if his friends were watching. They were so when he turned back to you he frowned. You sighed forming an apologetic smile on your lips. “I’m sorry. I really have to go. I have an exam tomorrow and I really need to study,” you said moving to walk past him but he stopped you grabbing hold of your arm. He leaned close to your ear lips grazing over your skin.

“You better not be running off to work on your little revenge plan. Because if I remember correctly on a certain Sunday brunch in your childhood bedroom I warned you what would happen if I find out you doing anything you not supposed to be,” he warned. You yanked your arm away looking him in his dark eyes.

“I said I was studying. And besides Jeno do you really want to warn me so out in your open? Where anyone can see you or hear you. Look that them,” you leaned in taking his chin in your hands and pointing his head in the direction of his friends all watching the two of you.

“One wrong move. One slip and I’ll make sure everyone here believes you hurt me got it?” You asked a smile on your tongue. He scoffed stepping back from you. “You know what you’re right, you should probably go. I have some things I need to take care of,” he said as he walked back to the rink skating with his friends. You brushed off his comment making your way out of the rink.

Once the door closed you instantly made your way down the hallway. Students seeing the glare in your eyes and nostrils that flared stepped aside saving themselves from your wraith. You turned a corner spotting a certain friend of Jisung’s speaking with a fellow classmate. You walked over to him nudging his friend to the side and grabbing onto the other guy's shirt.

“Where is Jisung?” You asked him eyes glaring into his. He put his hands up shaking his head glasses shifting.

“I don’t know-“

“Don’t like to me Doyoung. Where is he?” You asked narrowing your eyes. Your brows furrowed as he scrambled his words. “Why?” He asked nervously fumbling with the straps on his book bag.

“He owes me something. Now tell me!” You demanded Doyoung’s friend running off. Doyoung shook in your grasp looking at every else but your eyes. You shook him again heels clanking on your floor. He put his hand up in defense. He always dreamed of you approaching him but not like this.

“In the library-“ he finally said through pants. You let him go causing him to stumble but he didn’t fall. He adjusted his glasses and fixed his button-up as he watched your hips sway down the hallway to the library. His nerdy friend came back patting Doyoung’s shoulder.

“Was it everything you hoped?” He asked jokingly. Doyoung shrugged him off. “Oh, you didn’t run away?” He spat back. The boy just shook his head sucking his teeth.

The trip to the library, while on the other side of the building, was rather quick. You practically flew there with how quickly your legs took you there. You opened the doors head already doing circles around the seemingly crowded space. You swiped your ID gaining access to the space and moving past a group of girls who were just walking into the space. You walked farther in not seeing him at a desk on the main floor. So you went upstairs a disappointed huff leaving your lips when you failed to find him again. After an unsuccessful trip upstairs you began checking the aisles.

He wasn’t in Fiction.

Or Mystery.

Or Romance.

Nor was he in Si-Fi.

You were about to give up until you reached historical fiction where you found the boy in the grey hoodie sitting on the floor, reading a nonfiction book and headphones in his ear. You smiled walking over to him. When you stood tall above him he still hadn’t noticed your presence. You sighed bending down to his level knees touching your chest. You leaned forward grabbing one of the headphones and removing it from his ear.

“Hi,” you said quietly. He turned to your neutral lips forming a smile. “Oh hey,” he said taking off his other headphone. You smile nose scrunching in the process. Jisung smiled back but it slowly started to fade when he realized you were pissed. He immediately grabbed his bookbag stuffing his books in his bag. His headphones fell to the ground dragging on the floor as he ran around the corner. You turned walking the other way reaching the opposite end of the large book shelf. Jisung stopped in his tracks turning the other way.

He ran to the back of the shelves with nowhere to turn but the way he came. He calmed his breathing placing his hand on his chest. He checked the path seeing it empty. With a sigh of relief, he picked his headphones up stuffing them in his bookbag. You could see him scrambling around his bag.

You appeared from the shadows brown-heeled boots silent against the navy blue carpet. You stepped closer to the carpet doing you the favor and keeping the clink in your shoes quiet. You stepped closer to him, still not taking notice of your presence. Until he saw your boots, then your legs. His eyes scanned your frame upwards passing your waist and collarbone soon meeting your eyes.

He went to take off but you grabbed the strap of his bookbag yanking him back causing him to stumble onto a bookshelf. His back lay flat and his legs wide holding his balance. He looked up at you worried expression on his face. His book bad starting to fall from his shoulders. You wasted no time trapping him arms holding onto the bookshelf behind him closing him in. You stared deep into his eyes a huff leaving your lips.

"What did you tell Jeno?" you asked chewing on the side of your mouth. Jisung shook his head bringing his hands up in defense.

"Nothing. I swear," he said anxiously his eyes doing their best to maintain contact with yours. You grabbed onto the collar of his hoodie bringing him closer to you. His bookbag fell to the ground in the process. You glared into his eyes nostrils flaring.

"Don't lie to me Jisung. I know you said something. How else would he start to catch on?" you said growing impatient. You didn't want to confront him this way but if Jisung really did tell Jeno anything what choice did you have to get the truth?

He shook his head again. "Y/n I swear I did nothing," he said. Your lips form a tight line. You looked closely into his eyes searching for any sight of hesitation. When you couldn't find anything you let him go letting him hit the book shelf again. You viciously picked his bookbag from the floor placing it on his shoulder. When it touched his shoulder you leaned closer meeting his ear.

"I find out your lying to me I will ruin you," you warned letting the strap fall on his skin. Once it landed you turned around and walked away leaving Jisung alone, in the dark part of the library.

"Do you think he really could have something to do with it?" Wendy asked you as she walked beside you towards a bench at the hockey game. You were no stranger to these games, being Ten is on the team. People knew you were coming to the game. They even created a seat close up just for you. It also drove in a larger crowd. Most people come to see you, maybe even talk to you if they have the chance to.

However, after Si Cheng's little lie, people started to look at you differently. Si Cheng based on the universities ranking was bars below you. If you could pick someone to beneath you then what made you different from them?

This hockey game would be your first public appearance after you decided to not attend the Halloween party. People were waiting to see what you'd do next. They knew you were not one to be played with which is why they kept gossip short and only talked when they had left campus. Most people lost the respect they had for you when the rumors came out. Others fought to not believe such rumors, you'd never choose someone like him to take over your father's business.

Jeno made his way over to you as you made your way to your seat. When you went to sit down there was another girl in your seat. Wendy went up to her tapping her shoulder. "Uh you are in her seat," she commented blankly. The girl turned looking you up and down before she turned back to her friends scoffing, flipping her hair, and laughing with her friends. Wendy gasped a surprised look on her face. She went to launch herself at the girl but you stopped her.

"Wait," you told suddenly pointing at Jeno.

"Let her have the seat," you said loud enough for the girl to her. She turned to her friends sitting beside her ready to defend her. She turned crossing her arms over her chest a small tilt in her head and a smirk on her pink glossed lips. "It's just a chair," you said with a sly smirk feeling Jeno come up behind you.

Jeno would be your ticket back to the top. If you wanted to destroy Yuta, Jaehyun, and Johnny you had to retake your place. Getting the lesser like Doyoung, Mark and the other friends they have would be easier than Jaemin, Haechan, and Yangyang combined. But Jeno, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Yuta were held high at your school. The only way you can get them is if you make it to the top and Jeno was your ticket.

So you'd let him have his fun. Let him think he was controlling you, turning you into his obedient, pretty little girlfriend. Let him think he would be the man you married after university so your father's company would be his. You smirked feeling his hands wrap around your waist and the girls in front of you watching with wide eyes.

Jeno's downfall would be your greatest.

The girl perked up standing in front of the bench. She cleaned the seat with her hands. "I was just keeping it warm for you," she said quietly a fake smile on her lips. She and her friends rushed away. You smiled turning to place a kiss on Jeno's lips catching everyone's attention. Everyone Oooed and cheered for the two of you. When you pulled away you saw how surprised and red Jeno was. Some guy even patted Jeno's back proud of the captain.

You smiled stepping away to take your seat.

"I know your secret," you whispered to Jeno who laid in between your legs. You had left the hockey game once it finished. The Dinosaurs had yet another game this season. Jeno drove you back to your apartment. You invited him upstairs letting him stay for a while. After all, he did want to celebrate your first public appearance, not only for you but for the two of you being a couple.

"What's that?" he asked laying his cheek on your exposed thigh. You let your hand in his hair slowly detangle from his skin.

"You're a virgin," you said softly. You removed your hand from his hair feeling his cheek grow warm on your skin. His eyes widened as he sat up using his arms as balance. He scoffed turning away from you. "I'm not," he protested. You smirked letting out a chuckle and crawling over to him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he couldn't help but let his hands roam your bare skin. Molding at your plush thighs for comfort.

"Don't lie baby I know," you said in his ear using one of your hands to wrap around his chest and the other to softly play with his hair. He relaxed under your touch shutting his eyes at the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp. "How?" he hushed your nails putting him in a trance.

"I overheard a few girls. Just talk," you whispered into his ear. He hummed laying his back on your chest. Your hand that wrapped around his body made its way to the hem of his shirt. You played with it silently asking for him to take it off. He listened leaning forward for a moment allowing you to remove his t-shirt. He laid back on your front bare chest rising up and down. His sculpted frame is hot under your touch.

"I can fix that," you whispered in his ear placing a small kiss on his lobe. Your hand glided down his firm chest reaching the waistband of his sweatpants. You pulled back the cloth watching both his face and your hand disappear into his pants. He groaned loudly bucking his hips into your hand. You squeezed his bare cock feeling it get harder into your hand. His hands that gripped your thighs held on tighter his nails digging into your skin. You squeezed him again cupping him in your hand.

He bit his lip becoming fully hard in your palm. "Fuck," he cursed once your hand wrapped around his dick. Fingers gathering his precum and spreading it around his shaft. His slick in your hand coaxing his veiny, thick cock. He let his head fall back in your embrace mouth falling open as you jerked him.

"Fuck baby girl just like that," he moaned biting his lip. You smirked seeing him get all worked up and ready to take you. He let his bottom lip free when you jerked your hand even faster gripping onto the base of his cock to the tip. He rutted his hips into your fist using one of his hands to lower down his pants freeing his dick from its restrains.

"Fuck baby girl I'm gonna cum," he moaned a pornographic moan. Never in his life did a hand job feel so good. You could feel him twitch in your hand making you stop. He groaned frustrated so close to his release all for it to be stolen away by you. His eyes fluttered open readjusting to the light in your dimly lit bedroom.

"Jeno baby," you teased rubbing his shoulder. Again he relaxed into your touch rolling his neck as you rubbed and molded the most tense parts of his body. You leaned into his ear your breath fanning his neck. "Yes," he responded eyelashes dusting his cheeks.

"Let me fix your problem. I know you think about it," you teased with a lick of your teeth. You wrapped yourself around him tighter drawing him back into your embrace. "I know you touch yourself thinking about what it must feel like to be inside a warm, wet, and tight cunt," you kissed his neck feathering his skin with your lashes. He shuddered at the feeling his whole body tense for a moment.

"And I want to give that to you, especially now that I'm your girlfriend, you whispered lips leaving his skin. You pulled your whole body away removing your top completely as we as your bra throwing both pieces of clothing to the side. You laid on your pillows using them to rest on the small of your back. Jeno turned to you lips parted seeing only half of your naked frame on display.

"I want to give you everything," you said slowly spreading your legs apart for him. His jaw dropped instantly falling onto your bed becoming eye level with your glistening pussy. He went to lean forward, just to taste but two of your fingers stopped it pushing his forehead away. You shook your head a slight purse in your lips.

"Not tonight," you said watching him start to feel nervous. Overall Jeno came off as a confident guy. A man with some much to lose but a care in the world. He knows exactly what he wants and knows exactly how he's going to get it. This was something he had always wanted, he just couldn't believe he was going to get it.

After all, he may solely want you because of your father's company but it was still you he'd sleep with. He had to be memorable.

He licked his lips completely removing his sweatpants and boxers both falling off the bed. As he removed his clothes you pulled a condom out from your dresser handing it to him. You ripped it open allowing him to remove it from the package. He placed it around his angry red cock still starved of pleasure and aligned it at your entrance.

You smiled taking his dick in your hands and pushing it inch by inch past your tight hole. You kept yourself together but on the inside your pussy was screaming. Jeno was not only veiny but thick, you felt like your walls would bust. But the stretch was so deliciously amazing you wouldn't even mind it. You could hear your wetness squish agasint the base of his cock that slide inside you. Weighing inside of your body you moved further down just so he'd fit deeper inside you.

Once he rested himself inside you, you tapped his thigh so he could start moving. He did, slowly building up his own pace. His mind blank only thinking of how you felt and his own pleasure. He wanted to move faster completely lose his mind in your tight cunt but he saw the look on your face when he pushed himself fully inside. You winced feeling slight pain by the stretch. So he moved slowly until you said you were ready.

When you gave him the okay he sped up his pace. "Fuck baby," you moaned feeling his cock graze your velvet walls. Your wetness coating his dick, slipping in and out of you. Leaning forward he captured your lips with his. He moaned into your mouth feeling you clench around him. You were still getting used to him being inside you.

You pulled away from his lips head falling back in bliss releasing out an earthy groan erupting from your chest. You felt tingles down to your toes with the reach he had in you. He gripped onto your waist biceps flexing when he quickly rutted his hips into you. His pelvis rubbing against your clit. "Fuck baby girl I'm not gonna last long," He groaned slipping more cursed from his plumped lips. He whimpered feeling you squeeze around him again.

"Cum baby it's okay," you said easing him through his first time. His shut and mouth fell open as he released a series of groans slipping into the condom. You are not too far behind drowning his cock in your slick release. He pulled out slowly. You gasped inhaling for the first time since his entire dick was inside you. He chuckled hair falling onto his forehead body drenched in sweat.

Your body is covered in sweat too. He removed the condom throwing it in the trash. He went to place a kiss on your cheek but you stopped him. You turned to him grabbing his cheek and forcing him to look at you. You smirked a vile look in your eyes.

"Now I own you," you said darkly. He raised a brow trying to break free from your grip. He raised a brow hand coming up to your arm to remove him but it was no use most of his strength drained. "What?" he managed to ask through breaths. "I own you remember?" he told you.

You shook your head sitting up slowly. "You seem to not understand so let me explain it to you," you began.

"You think you know me so well. I'm a spoiled girl whose only purpose in life is to use people for her entertainment. But you're wrong," you say letting him go and throwing his chin. He flexed his jaw hearing a small crack. He turned to you watching you disappear into the bathroom. He waited for a moment seeing you left. He went to open the door but you beat him opening the door wearing one of your red laced robes.

"My father is one of the most powerful men in the world currently and your father is nothing but one of his more accomplished workers with a few gold medals under his belt. But he's nothing like my dad and while that doesn't bother me and could care less about the power, you do," you said eyeing him. You walked over to a small wooden cabinet in the far corner of your room pulling out a small bottle of wine and pouring two cups. You handed Jeno one seeing while you were away he put only his pants back on.

You sipped it and placed it down on your vanity. Jeno held his glass in his hand only bringing it to his lips when you did.

"So?" he commented. "I know your secrets. I could ruin you," he reported defensively.

"And I know your wants," you said calmly with a perk of your brow. "I know what you so truly desire. I also know everything you got to lose how even threatening me is risky for you," you took a pause crossing your arms over your chest. "You like to believe you are at my status but in reality, you are just a boy like your sister and some of your friends who just living off Daddy's money. You not different from us, from me," you said picking up your glass and taking a sip.

"And I know how much that money means to you. Don't make me take it away," you said this time less calm and more stern. You had to drill it in this man's brain that you were serious about this. No way would you let Lee Jeno ruin everything you were walking towards because he had some said rich boy fantasy about becoming even more powerful than he already was.

"What do you want then? For us to break up?" he asked setting his glass down knuckles finally turning back from white to their original color. You shook your head. "No. That remains the same. The only thing I ask is for you to be my pretty, noncurious, little obedient boyfriend," you said with a chuckle. He huffed lips forming a tight line.

"Understand?" you asked. He chewed the inside of his mouth rolling his eyes. He nodded walking over to grab his shirt. "Oh, my lovely," you called back seeing him now fully dressed. "What?" he asked a gruff in his voice.

"Don't tell anyone," you warned nicely. He brushed you off leaving you alone but listened to your demand. You hummed hearing your door lock on the way back to your room. Your dog jumped onto your bed as you put on a movie watching it as you finished your wine. Eyes glued to the screen for about ten minutes before you heard your doorbell ring. You walked over to your front door your dog by your side.

You checked the peephole seeing a familiar boy standing outside your door. You sighed opening the door to a sad Jisung. Your dog almost immediately jumps to greet him at the door. She made him smile for a brief moment before his eyes met yours. He refused to let his eyes wander around your frame only concealed by a red laced robe.

He had more important things to tell you.

You leaned against your front door poking the inside of your mouth with your tongue. "What?" you asked him. He sighed eyes shifting to your eyes.

"I know who's been talking to Jeno. I also know who he plans on spilling to next," he said in a rush. You widened your eyes taking his hand and pulling him inside your apartment the door locking behind him.

Time was slowly starting to run out for you.

Looks like Mark wouldn't have to wait as long as you hoped.

To Be Continued...

I hope you all enjoyed part 5 of my 10-part series Easy A! I wanted to change things up in this part to give Y/n a little scare lol. Overall thank you so much for reading and see you all in Part 6.

Don't forget to Share and Like!

Tags: @hengicumdump @sexygrass @jakiki94 @90s-belladonna @soobiverse @ethelia @notevenheretbh1 @scarfac3 @toroufriteh @renyoungrecs @yumekowhore

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raviollies · 7 months ago

Note

The Nice Robin outfit was particularly impressive with the painting/texture you achieved! Do you have any advice on finding and reading references for materials like super shiny leather?

I'll be so candid and say that I mostly just Follow My Heart in terms of textures these days but leather in particular so I don't know any good sites to look for something specifically like that though narrowing your search down to PATENT LEATHER may help you.

As for advice, I think the main way to give it that oomf is adding those blues & browns and sharp edges (use lasso tool don't smooth everthing out!) The reflections in the leather give it that realistic feel, so getting all those colours in there with the sharp edge really helps sell it. Also highlights.

Here is a super quick timelapse of what I do

#ask #anon

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 2 years ago

Text

pictures of you, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader; mentions of jungkook x reader

summary: You like taking photos of your boyfriend, Min Yoongi. Just for you. Although you've tried, and will continue to try, to convince Yoongi to to make porn. Why? Because he's sexy, that's why.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (yg/you); mentions of sex work - yes, technically Yoongi has been in the photos with his face hidden but we'd like to see more; light smut (fem reader, intense making out, fingering, heavy petting, slight D/s themes); fluff tbh; non-idol!AU - (secret) sex worker!reader x music producer!Yoongi, mentions of video editor / photographer!Jungkook

part of _thehornedsin au, but can be read alone

“What are you doing?”

“I just want to take pictures of you.”

“Usually, people don’t wear Louis Vuittons and a gown to take photos of other people.”

You carefully placed one of said black heels on his chest and brought the camera to your eye, feeling and seeing a pair of hands reach up to encircle your ankle. Deft fingers fanning out to crown your step with his touch. Through the lens, you could see the open black dress shirt. Prominent collarbones, silver necklace tangled around that slim neck. Gleaming porcelain skin and parted lips. Hazy, half-lidded, dark brown eyes under smoked liner.

Min Yoongi’s long hair was messy, black, and sprawled out over the white backdrop.

You took a photo.

The side of his pink lips quirked upwards.

You make the move to remove your foot but Yoongi spread his hands over the patent leather, gripping tightly. You had only put a little pressure on the ball of your foot, but most of your weight was on your other leg standing beside his body.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, lowering the camera.

He matched your nonchalant, almost-bored expression with his own eyebrow tick.

Neither of you said anything.

You pressed the sharp heel into his skin just a little. Giving him the hint. The half-smile grew wider. A sensual sigh leaving those sinful lips. You felt him shift, his back arching a little, and the tip of the stiletto dug in deeper, indenting inward right below his ribs.

You raised the camera again and took another photo.

Looked down at it, admiring your boyfriend in the preview screen. One of his hands was further up your calf, the other along your heel, as if he was making the photographer step on him. Black satin from the sides of your gown draped along the edges of the shot, casting shadows along the bottom half. The silk dress shirt had fallen more open, pooling by his sides. Black strands draped over his forehead, highlighting his closed eyes and the masochistic gratification gently spread over his features.

You felt your inhale still in your throat.

“Yoongi, I think you should make porn.”

He smirked below you.

“No.”

You sighed in faux disappointment. After all, you got to keep the photos.

“Let me take a photo of you.”

You chuckled, removing your leg from his grasp. With force. “I haven’t put on any makeup.”

“You never need it.”

“You do with these lights. They wash you out.”

“Get down here.”

It was not that easy of a feat. Vuitton didn’t make shoes meant for immediate on-the-knees activities. The corseted, black satin gown was also a slight pain-in-the-ass, not to mention the heavy camera in your hands that wasn’t yours. Now that he was your photographer, Jeon Jungkook left a set of his work things in your home studio. Made life easier for him.

Sometimes, you borrowed it to photograph your boyfriend, Min Yoongi.

“This is better.”

Thanks to the high silt in the gown, Yoongi’s hands were on your ass and squeezing hard, long fingers digging into the softness as he bunched fabric up to your waist. Your knees on the ground. For someone who wished that he was horizontal for more than half of his life, Min Yoongi sure knew how to sit up quickly. He was pulling you to him and you were resisting, tilting the lens of the camera so the plastic hit his bare chest, keeping a measured distance between yourself and those playful dark eyes.

“At least let me put this down.”

His finger was toying with the side of your panties, slipping under and following the curve. He ticked his head. “Put it down then,” he echoed. Drew out the syllables in his deep, raspy voice.

You put down the camera beside you and him.

Careful with it.

It was a precious treasure, even more so considering the contents.

Yoongi shoved a finger into your pussy and placed his palm behind your head, pulling you into a kiss.

You wondered why he always said no. Other than being a famous music producer and all. Well, you knew that was the major reason that Yoongi would never join you in your erotic photography, but there was a difference between a I-would-but-I-can’t no and the no he gave you. The refusal Yoongi gave you was an anxious one and you wondered why that was because he was so, so sexual. On every level. From the way his long hair brushed against your cheeks, to the way he held your head, crowning his fingers around the base of your skull, to the slow slide of his finger in and out of you despite the layers of clothes, none of these obstacles bothering him, none of them obscuring the lust in every kiss, lips to lips, and you wondered why Yoongi thought he shouldn’t make porn.

Warm and wet dripping down.

He sighed into your mouth and slid in another finger, moaning into your throat.

Your fingers followed his cheekbone, his jaw, his soft skin under the pads of your touch, and you kissed him again, again, remembering that he didn’t like kissing when you first met him. He liked to fuck, of course, but he didn’t seek to kiss. Not because he didn’t want to kiss you, you learned, but because he did, and that was frightening to him, being addicted to a kiss.

All because it was from you.

“There is no one more beautiful,” Yoongi whispered, rough and breathless.

You ran your fingers through his soft locks with a contented sigh.

“I’m looking at him,” you murmured back.

His eyes darted away. A soft smile found its way to your lips. He was fully ruining your panties by shoving them to the side and firmly stuffing his fingers in all the way to his knuckles, repeatedly, sucking in a breath as he felt your pussy squeeze them, pulsing. You were more in his lap now, his erection against your thigh fighting for dear life in those loose black pants, but it was clear that he wanted this instead, your arms on his shoulders and his face in your hands, cradling the sides of his head with your fingers fanned out.

Like a blooming lotus flower.

Yoongi looked up at you again, pink lips parted.

You closed the distance, your hair falling over your shoulder, rolling your hips into his hand as you kissed him again.

I’m better with you.

I make porn. I’m not a good person by society’s standards.

Doesn’t matter, because I know that I am better with you.

Yoongi often told you his music was better now that you were his. It was experience too, but you understood what he meant, because your erotica was better ever since he became yours too. He wasn’t in the photos, but he was. In the way you posed, knowing all the angles he liked. In your selection of lingerie, keeping in mind the parts of your body he enjoyed most – all, duh – and in every photographed expression, sensual, seductive, unafraid. It didn’t matter if you were always blindfolded.

Your lips could tell a story.

He hit that depth and speed you liked.

You smiled against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Dark brown orbs watching you under lashes and you could feel the fierce love in them, unrelenting and unwavering, almost childish in stubbornness, and so what was there to fear when you had something so raw and so powerful standing beside you?

He made you even more confident in your sexual nature.

You licked his lower lip playfully.

Yoongi caught your tongue with his teeth and sucked on it, devious glint in the narrowing of his eyes.

Shallow breath, rising heat, push and pull, riding his hand as he fingered you, closer, closer, almost there and he shoved another finger in, making you gasp and cutting off the rise, the slight despair adding to the pleasure. The sound. Wet and lewd and hunger. Hard and fast and deep, so deliberate it was maddening. Shared gaze so intense it made your core clench and your pussy shiver. Soaked inner thighs, sweet heady scent of sex, so strong you could taste it even as Yoongi sucked on your tongue, still holding your head to him, your entire body shuddering.

He let go.

A hot exhale escaping from your lips, washing over his open mouth.

Stinging bliss, all over and pooling at the base of your hips, spilling, spilling in vicious throbs within your inner walls, clamping down on his long fingers buried deep inside, and your head tipped back, palms molded to his head, your taut fingers laced with black strands spread out, mirroring the shadow of a blooming lotus flower.

Yoongi smiled as he watched the lustful pleasure ripple over your face.

“I look ten times more stupid orgasming than you do,” he hummed.

You laughed, shaking your head, slowly rocking your hips to extend the feeling. “You do tend to bark out ‘fuck’ a lot more. It’s charming.”

“Mmm.” He slid his fingers out of you and raised his hand. Separated them, admiring the way your viscous juices clung and collected around his knuckles. “I think Jungkook could do porn.”

You calmly smiled as Yoongi licked his hand clean right in front of your face. “I doubt it. He’s impatient and needy.”

He cocked a shoulder. “He needs training.” Pink tongue curling around his knuckles.

“And the tattoos?”

Yoongi shrugged again. “Put a sleeve on that arm, tie him up, blindfold. No one’s gonna know.”

“He likes saying my name during sex a little too much,” you pointed out as Yoongi lowered his hand, then paused, seeing your fingertips resting on his bare chest. He reached over and wrapped his wet fingers around your hand, bringing it lower.

“Like I said, he needs training.”

“Your friend is naughty and unruly.”

Yoongi molded your palm to his covered, twitching erection, locking eyes with you. You were about to look down but his other hand came up and his knuckles rested on your chin, keeping you facing him as he rubbed your hand over his hard cock through his pants.

“I know, but he’s cute when he begs.”

You tightened your grip, pressing your entire hand against his length. His cock jerked in his pants, begging for more. His hand was still damp, but there was dampness under his pants too. Pre-cum soaking his boxer briefs. Yoongi was using that raspy Daegu satoori with you now. Hm. Sly. Knew exactly what he was doing. He was still massaging himself with your hand, undeterred by your interference.

Maybe even welcomed it.

“And you?” you breathed out in a smoky, dangerous whisper.

The side of his lips curved upwards.

The most devious smirk.

“Fuck me,” Yoongi whispered.

Soft and slow. Hot exhale, savoring the words, drawing it out. Dark eyes barely visible under lowered lashes and with a tone an octave away from desperate. Gripping your hand around his length, letting your feel the hardness and the pulsating twitch of dirty desire. And then he did the unthinkable.

He bit the right side of his lower lip and said it better.

“Fuck me, please.”

in case you want the visual

(this photo poster was sent in emails for winners of the Seoul tix raffle and, yes, I saw it and my imagination went places, what, he didn't do bite his lip to be innocent)

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

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stardust-swan · 4 months ago

Text

Finding Your True Archetype Part 1: Spring

This is the first post in a series where I copy and paste information from the stylist David Zyla's book Color Your Style. His archetype system covers way more different types of woman than the quizzes you find online that have 5-10 results and he gives you advice on styling yourself for your archetype. I never 100% related to any of those online quiz results but I instantly felt very seen when I read about a certain Archetype in Zyla's book.

Zyla categorises his different archetypes into four categories: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. This post will only discuss the Spring archetypes, but I hope to make posts for the other archetypes soon. If you don't find your archetype in this post, you likely will in a future post.

Terminology Zyla uses throughout the book to help you understand this post better:

First Base: The color found in the ring around your iris; your most formal and powerful neutral; your version of black .

Second Base: The color taken from the darkest shade of your hair; a warmer and less formal neutral; your version of brown.

Third Base: The color seen in the lightest version of your hair; a playful and informal neutral; your version of khaki.

Essence Color: The color that harmonizes your skin tones and reveals your most genuine, open, and essential self; your version of white; wear it when you are having an intimate conversation, when you are meditating, or when you want to be completely open and honest.

Romantic Color: The color reflected by your flushed skin, which reveals your passion, your sexual energy, and your romantic self; your version of red; wear it on a hot date, a romantic evening, or any time you want your passion to show.

Dramatic Color: The color taken from the shade of your veins, which shows your power, your charisma, and your sense of authority; your version of blue; wear it on a job interview, for a formal presentation, or any time you want to make a strong impression.

Vital Spring: The Prom Queen

Celebrities: Kristin Davis, Eva Longoria, Susan Lucci, Rachael Ray.

Motto: “That sounds like fun!”

Secret Superpower: Charm, charm, and more charm. The world’s hostess! Invite a Vital Spring to your dinner party and you guarantee a great evening for all: She will keep the crowd entertained while you are slaving in the kitchen.

Kryptonite: When it’s no longer fun, she often doesn’t want to play anymore.

Nature Image: Zinnias, French parrot tulips, Gerbera daisies, pompoms.

Artists: Mondrian and Matisse for the high-contrast primary colors.

Charming Contrasts: High-contrast outfits and accessories will always make the Prom Queen look terrific—a red scarf to set off a black coat, or white polka dots on a blueberry-colored umbrella.Her look is even better in “surprise” contrast that leads you to expect the unexpected. She might consider a vivid dramatic-colored coat lining, or a First Base outfit and shoes punctuated with a romantic-colored handbag, or an energy-colored enamel charm on her bracelet.

Fabulous Fabrics: The fabrics are crisp and include cotton piqué, cotton sateen, faille, bouclé, patent leather, and satin.

Signature Scent: Citrus: It’s brisk, bold, and does not linger.

Must-Haves: The Prom Queen favors a Chanel-inspired bouclé jacket (she may even splurge for a real one!), nautically styled gabardine pants, a slim pegged skirt, a button-front blouse with pearl buttons, and a crisp cotton belted shift dress. Her silhouette is clean in line and efficient with a dash of costume elements thrown into the mix. Though her look is crisp and refined, all of her favorite pieces are reminiscent of vintage styles and possess an air of “I get things done.” When it comes to styles, she’s most at home in a 1950s look: crisp, clean, with a little bit of movement. Think swing coats and swirly skirts, perhaps contrasted with a structured purse. Frequently sought-after in social situations, Vital Springs also do well wearing conversation pieces: a charm bracelet, for example, or a dark vintage-inspired coat with a bright high-contrast lining.

Must-Avoids: The Vital Spring should avoid burnished colors or ensembles made up of muted, blended colors and fabrics. She’s always best in high contrast with a touch of novelty. And she should pass on the cowboy boots and anything oversized. Cowboy boots have too many varied lines in them and actually are more of a design suitable for Autumns. The woman who wears them has a kind of I-roll-up-my-sleeves-and-shoot-pool-with-the-boys quality. This does not describe the Prom Queen, though she will be game for pool—but sporting a pair of capris, a crisp blouse, and a small neck scarf. She always keeps her playful femininity, no matter what she’s doing. As for oversized items, the crisp pert lines that favor this type illustrate her efficient I-get-things-done manner, whereas oversized connotes an I’ll-get-to-it-but-right-now-I’m-just-hangin’ mentality.

Personality and Spirit: There’s a good reason why Vital Springs have that Prom Queen image—they’re the most charming, outgoing, and friendly of the Archetypes. They’re the kind of people who become best friends with everyone in the room five minutes after they walk in, and others often develop crushes on them. That’s no surprise: They radiate the kind of energy and magnetism that draws people in, and no matter what the situation, they tend to lead with a smile. With her independent spirit, the Prom Queen functions best when given a lot of leeway, but don’t worry—she’ll charm her boss and colleagues into an arrangement that works well for everybody.

Early Spring: The Playful Princess

Celebrities: Angela Lansbury, Gwyneth Paltrow, Chloë Sevigny, Naomi Watts.

Motto: “How amusing!”

Secret Superpower: An instinct for what’s most important. Count on the Early Spring to always get to the heart of the matter.

Kryptonite: Not being appreciated—that causes the Early Spring to droop like a wilted flower.

Nature Image: Crocuses poking their tips up through the snow, gladiolus, iris.

Artists: Monet and the other Impressionists, whose cool saturated pastels are perfect for Early Springs.

Charming Contrasts: For the Playful Princess, light and easy low-contrast is best. As this palette is very gentle, I would suggest never wearing more than two groups of her colors together at the same time. For example, a Third Base suit could be paired with a pastel romantic blouse, as well as jewelry, shoes, and a scarf that pick up these tones, perhaps in different values. The Early Spring should use pattern in the way it is seen in Monet’s The Water Lilies: small, delicate brush strokes, each dollop of paint slightly blended into the one beside it, giving the overall impression of a landscape seen through a train window on a rainy day. Confetti patterns also work well for her. No eye-popping high-contrast patterns, please—they just don’t suit her gentle palette.

Fabulous Fabrics: Cashmere, organza, suede, and especially, crisp cottons. No other type looks as good in a crisp winter-white cotton blouse.

Signature Scents: Gentle, flowery, soft, and powdery—but with a slight kick, such as jasmine.

Must-Haves: The Playful Princess favors a simple polished-cotton pastel Agent 99 trench coat, Hollywood waisted pants, a slim waistband-less skirt, a crisp cotton blouse worn with a thin belt over it, and an updated version of the shirtdress with the collar popped up. The demure, playful Early Spring can pull off a beret or even a cloche hat, something sleek and close to the head. She’s the type for whom blouses with bows were invented, and for a little light-handed playfulness, try chinos embroidered with a novelty design—but no belt loops, and with a back zipper, please! Her wardrobe suggests a cool, sleek, playful elegance, someone sweet and flowery—but with a kick. While she can wear clothing derived from masculine dress such as trousers, all her garments need to be curved and adapted to her feminine shape. Adding a slight dose of irony doesn’t hurt, either.

Must-Avoids: Denim. Although the Early Spring looks great in slim trousers with no waistband, she has a terrible time finding the right pair of blue jeans—because they don’t suit her! She needs to avoid anything even remotely masculine. Hence, our Early Spring should pass on the men’s-style trench with epaulets and patch pockets as well as on popping printed patterns. The original version of this trench is too masculine and too literal; and high contrast prints are too harsh for her delicate coloring.

Personality and Spirit: Early Springs are ladylike, yes, and somewhat proper, and perhaps even demure, but they’re also blessed with a lively curiosity and a strong sense of fun. There’s an appealing coolness to the Early Spring, the slight formality that often marks someone with beautiful manners and that air of “to the manner born,” but there’s also a playful, inquisitive nature lurking just below the surface. Count on the Early Spring to show up at that all-important job interview, impeccable in a dove-gray suit and a pearly white blouse—and then to tell a silly joke that surprises the interviewer into delighted laughter. A good girl she may be—but she’s got her share of pluck.

Floral Spring: The Wholesome Flirt

Celebrities: Doris Day, Barbara Walters, Reese Witherspoon, Renée Zellweger.

Motto: “Live for today.”

Secret Superpower: Making the most of every moment.

Kryptonite: Realizing that she is making a mistake in the middle of making it and then becoming self-conscious.

Nature Image: Daffodils, hyacinth, and tulips.

Artist: Fragonard.

Charming Contrasts: Wholesome Flirts do best with crisp contrast. Offering relief from head-to-toe color is good, such as a crisp blouse in her shade of white peering out from under an energy-colored suit accessorized with a pearl necklace. In such an outfit, the white doesn’t punctuate, but rather gives the eye a break from all of that energy color and creates a halo around the wearer’s face, enabling the Floral Spring to win the attention that she loves.

Fabulous Fabrics: Though she is feminine, the Floral Spring’s fabrics need to stay crisp. Camel’s hair, gabardine, eyelet, and organdy are best.

Signature Scents: Sweet and floral. Even when she’s all grown up, she might try a strawberry-scented lip balm.

Must-Haves: The Floral Spring favors a brightly colored peacoat, slim trousers with side slits at the ankle, an A-line skirt, a cute sweater set, and a shift dress covered in pastel paillettes. These are the garments that flatter the Wholesome Flirt, with her ultra-feminine, always flirty nature. She enjoys incorporating costume-y elements into her wardrobe—such as a bow-shaped clutch or sandals decorated with a bumblebee buckle—but all her choices need to be frothy and flirtatious, never influenced by anything practical unless it’s a reinvention of something practical, such as the revamping of a sailor’s peacoat in a vivid color with theatrically sized buttons.

Must-Avoids: Austere or severely styled clothing. This woman must always wear clothing which complements her carefree, flirty, feminine nature. Hence, the Wholesome Flirt should pass on camouflage cargo pants and one-shoulder gowns—the pants are too serious and the one-shoulder gown, too asymmetrical, which makes her look imbalanced and, oddly, staid.

Personality and Spirit: Like the coquettish beauty batting her baby blues at two men in Fragonard’s The Swing, this Archetype embodies the words feminine and flirtatious. The Floral Spring sometimes seems like an enchanted creature who lived in a garden all her life and somehow decided to venture out into the world of more ordinary mortals. Like many of their Spring sisters, the Floral Springs are charming beyond belief, but their charm is always genuine. If you feel good in their presence, it’s because they really do see the best in everything and everyone, including you, and they have a gift for making you believe in the magic that seems all too apparent to them. That may be why they’re the most flirtatious of the Archetypes: If life is a garden, why not sample every flower?

Buoyant Spring: The Life of the Party

Celebrities: Cameron Diaz, Goldie Hawn, Queen Latifah, Amy Poehler.

Motto: “How interesting!”

Secret Superpower: Enthusiasm. Everything fascinates her.

Kryptonite: Sometimes that all-encompassing enthusiasm can become just a little . . . well, scattered.

Nature Image: Sunflowers, buttercups, daisies, button poms, cosmos, tuberoses, foxglove.

Artist: Matisse, for the high-contrast use of color.

Charming Contrasts: The Life of the Party needs a pattern somewhere in her outfit or accessories in order to tie together the entire look. She can unify a romantic-colored shirt and Third Base capris with plaid sandals that feature both of those colors. As an extra plus, those sandals are also a wonderful conversation-starter!

Fabulous Fabrics: Poplin, organza, embroidered cotton, linen, stretch satin.

Signature Scents: Sporty, invigorating, perhaps with a hint of eucalyptus. A splash rather than a cologne works better, as it is lighter and less serious.

Must-Haves: A blazer cut to the high hip with an accentuated waist is the perfect garment for the Life of the Party, as are capris, a turtleneck with short puffed sleeves, and a metallic brocade shift dress adorned with feathers at the hem. Savoring life to the fullest is what she’s all about, and she needs her wardrobe to reflect this.

Must-Avoids: Hyperformality—and not only in clothing. The Buoyant Spring also has the urge to do something zany to break the tension at a party that is too stuffy. The results may be, um, problematic—or they could be delightful. The Buoyant Spring needs to pass on the chiffon caftan and motorcycle-inspired looks. The caftan would make her seem like a dowager, and no matter what her real age, the Buoyant Spring is always young at heart. Also, the caftan feels a bit too grand for her. At heart the Buoyant Spring is the girl who genuinely enjoys kicking off her shoes at the end of the day. Any article of clothing that conveys an aura of queenly grandness feels too serious for this fun-loving type, especially since it limits so severely the number of fashion choices she can make—no belt, no skirt, no scarf, just a pair of sandals and some jewels. As for motorcycle-inspired ensembles, while the Life of the Party is fun and game for most anything, a boots-and-leather look hardens her I-love-being-a-girl silhouette and limits her opportunity for the adornment of her favorite fashion element: herself!

Personality and Spirit: Playful, sporty, and energetic, the Buoyant Spring is brimming over with high spirits and good cheer. Her buoyant energy lends itself more to shorts or capris than to a full-length evening gown, though when she does put on that fancy dress, you may be surprised to realize how pretty she is. The Buoyant Spring is always a marvelous cheerleader. She knows how to draw other people out, encouraging them to express their most cherished ideas—and then she knows how to make those ideas sound brilliant.

Mischievous Spring: The Pixie

Celebrities: Tyra Banks, Bernadette Peters, Rosie Perez, Rihanna, Julia Roberts.

Motto: “Everything I really want eventually comes to me.”

Secret Superpower: Huge confidence in herself.

Kryptonite: Expects everyone to come to her, which means sometimes she can be a bit selfish—perhaps even more than a bit.

Nature Image: Lily pad, buttercup, bluebells.

Artists: Landscape artists who paint the French countryside.

Charming Contrasts: Gentle contrast is best for our Pixie, but she can handle more contrast in a single outfit than most of the other Springs can manage. For the weekend, she might look for a longish belted tweed coat in her energy color over a short skirt and tights in her Third Base color, accented by a metallic and energy-colored purse, metallic earrings, and a few favorite odd mismatched bracelets.

Fabulous Fabrics: Lightly textured knits, brushed cotton, embossed suede, organza, crisp cotton, piqué.

Signature Scents: Narcissus, hyacinth.

Must-Haves: A softly tailored short anorak, short-sleeved knit sweater with self-belt and collar, slim stretch cigarette pants, miniskirt with pleated hem, bouclé knit hooded cardigan, and halter-style printed maxidress create the pixieish look of the Mischievous Spring. Our Pixie always needs the element of surprise incorporated into her mischievous style or else she looks out of place. A well-fitting dress with very simple lines is fine for New Year’s Eve, but she would need a marabou shrug or a feathered headband in order to keep the outfit from seeming too stuffy.

Must-Avoids: Big ruffles at her cuffs, which just look silly waving all over the place. The Mischievous Spring should also avoid wide-legged trousers, full-skirted gowns, and layered dresses, all of which tend to make her look like a little girl playing dress-up or like a delicate pixie drowning in waves of fabric. She should also avoid a too-polished head-to-toe look as well as any garment or accessory that proclaims, “I am serious.”

Personality and Spirit: When I think of the Mischievous Spring, I think of the sound of jingle bells: This pixieish creature evokes everything that is frolicsome and fun, and like all Springs, the Mischievous Spring is charm personified. She often works quite hard, but unless you pay close attention, you may not realize it: She may create the impression that a battery of elves magically completed her assignments overnight. The Mischievous Spring sometimes seems like the ultimate free spirit, but somehow, she always meets her deadlines, shows up on time, and comes through like a trouper. It’s just that her process for getting there might drive more organized types insane. She’s the kind of woman who can show up at a party looking stunning even though she just bought the dress that morning and then couldn’t find the right lipstick and had to borrow a neighbor’s. No matter how she got there, she always looks fantastic—and there she is, ready to share her mischievous sense of fun with everyone else at the party.

Tawny Spring: The Maverick

Celebrities: Amy Adams, Carol Burnett, Ginger Rogers.

Motto: “I am my own trendsetter.”

Secret Superpower: Being just a little bit ahead of the curve and bringing other people along with her.

Kryptonite: Sometimes she just can’t get past that one niggling detail—the fly in the ointment, the one thing that tarnishes the whole. Frustration with something relatively minor can sometimes spoil the whole thing for her.

Nature Image: Poppies, green euphorbia, yarrow, pear blossom, ranunculus.

Artists: Renoir, Rousseau.

Charming Contrasts: As befits a Maverick, the Tawny Spring puts together diverse elements in a way that she couldn’t possibly explain to anyone else. Clearly this type will also put together her contrast levels in precisely the way that she wants to! Her “find” of a vintage 1960s tranquil-colored blouse is made fresh and interesting when worn over a Second Base turtleneck and paired with skinny-fit Second Base trousers. Mavericks take warning: Never wear shades of the same color, as the exchange of energy between the similar shades is not dynamic enough, creating a muddy effect.

Fabulous Fabrics: Pony, light popcorn tweeds, embossed leather, knit fabrics.

Signature Scents: She will probably favor a mixture of citrus and spice. She is eclectic, so she will probably have several small bottles of different scents. None of them will be floral or powdery.

Must-Haves: Our Maverick favors an updated military-styled jacket, boot-cut trousers, a miniskirt worn with tights, a vintage 1960s blouse, and a button-front knit sweater dress with contrasting collar and cuffs worn over a tank. After all, her motto is “I am my own trendsetter,” and what better outfits to choose than those that allow her a fertile field for her creative vision. The Maverick is eclectic in her style and is best in slightly theatrical pieces. She is the type that can easily wear a feathered cloche, fingerless gloves, or a plaid capelet—and even better if they are all worn at the same time! If her outfit looks like a costume from the forest scene in Shakespeare’s As You Like It, the one in which shepherds and shepherdesses frolic, she will love it. She will find it difficult to pass a vintage clothing store without stopping in.

Must-Avoids: Clothing that is uniform or “matched,” such as a matching blazer and skirt. This type should never own a suit; she needs to make a statement by putting together diverse pieces in unexpected ways. She should also pass on the long flowing skirts and any clothing influenced by minimalism. She is too “ready for action” and her energy is too high for the languid I-go-with-the-flow quality of drapey soft chiffon, which in any case suggests genteel beauty, rather than the Tawny Spring’s air of sprightly fun. Finally, no minimalism for the Maverick: When you strip this energetic creature down to monochromatic minimalism, she will feel and act as though she is at a wake.

Personality and Spirit: Quirkiest of all the Spring Archetypes, the Tawny Spring is nearly impossible to pin down. She has a habit of zigzagging from one activity to another. Yet she’s reliable and trustworthy, and there’s a method to her madness. The Tawny Spring views the world not through rose-colored glasses, exactly, but let’s say through teal-colored ones: a unique, distinctive perspective that is all her own, and that to everyone else seems slightly askew. When everyone else sees the forest, she notices that one little branch over in the corner, where a rare tropical species has just built its nest. Then she wonders why no one else can see that little sliver of teal-colored feather that tipped her off—it seems blatantly obvious to her!

That's all for now, doves. Next post will be on Zyla's summer archetypes 😊

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