#don’t you guys just love the shading on the leather?

[kayawolfhorse]

The sun sets molten across the server, brushing the horizon in strokes of fiery reds and sickly, lurid golds. Rivulets of light drip sluggishly between the boughs of the dark oaks around Grian and glint against the diamond blade held loose at his side—a mere precaution, in this space between one held breath and the next. The night is young enough to have not yet spawned its monsters, and evenings are an agreed-upon respite this early in the game.

Grian flexes his hand around the sword as he walks. As newly-crafted as it is, the leather grip is still stiff, and it cuts a hard crease into where his time ticks away between the green lines of his palm. The heart and the life lines, he vaguely recalls, working in tandem to cease the pulse at his wrist. Who had told him that? It doesn’t matter.

The din of the day has faded into a buzzing hum that reverberates across Grian’s nerves. His shoulders feel pinched within the confines of the jacket Joel had wrangled him into. The grass doesn’t sound quite right beneath his soles. There is a sense of wrongness that clings to the back of his neck.

“Fancy seeing you here!”

His blade is at Scar’s throat before Grian can register the movement. “Scar!” He lowers his arm and glares. He does not put the sword away. “You can’t do that to a man.”

Scar’s grin is far too crooked to be anything close to the sheepishness he tries to sell it as. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, meaning approximately none of it. “Beautiful day we’re having, isn’t it? Would you just feel that breeze! The air is ripe with opportunity, don’t you think?”

“Uh huh,” Grian says drily. “Were you following me?”

“It’s all coincidences, Grian, all coincidence,” Scar says with a wink. His tinted glasses are perched rather precariously on his face. Behind them, in such low light, his eyes look odd. “I just happened to be in the area! That sword is completely unnecessary, by the way.”

“Do you want something? Is that what this is?”

“Can’t a guy just visit with his favorite bread bridge boy?”

“Bad Boy,” Grian corrects, and immediately wonders why he bothers. “And anyway, I’m hardly on favorite grounds.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Scar waves him away, and his striped shirt—predominantly buttoned for once—ripples with it. “Joel’s definitely crossed off the potential list, we can rule him out. Jimmy and you are about even on the mischief meter, but between you and me, you wear those sunglasses better.”

Grian wrinkles his nose. “They weren’t my idea.”

“And yet here you are, wearing sunglasses after the sun’s gone down.”

“On my head.” Grian gestures at where they’re propped in his hair to emphasize his point. “You’re over here actually wearing yours. Why are they blue, anyway? That’s got to make the world look weird.”

“Oh, they do,” Scar agrees. He slides off his glasses and takes a moment to consider them before, without warning, turning them around and sticking them on Grian’s face.

Grian’s sputtering protest dies in his throat as Scar adjusts where the glasses lay behind his left ear, brushing the shell of it in the process. Scar’s skin is rough with callouses and his touch is gentle. Grian is suddenly, inexplicably warm.

Once satisfied with his work, Scar takes a step back and tilts his head. The blue tint of the glasses does color the world strangely, but every observation of it is taken from Grian’s peripheral; his field of vision seems to have narrowed to encompass Scar alone. Like this, his eyes appear sea-green, and it’s nicer than the near-fluorescent shade his current life gives him, but Grian can’t help but think of kinder worlds and the lovely, lively emerald they bring with them.

“Well?” Scar prompts.

After Grian’s remembered how to breathe, he huffs at Scar. “Now I’m wearing two pairs of stupid glasses—hey!”

Scar steals Grian’s sunglasses and slides them into his own hair, and it’s stupid, really, how well he pulls them off. He strikes a pose and asks, “How do I look?”

“Like an idiot,” Grian deadpans, but the quirk of his lip betrays the straight face he’s trying to keep. This is the problem with Scar: no matter what may lie between them, regardless of the sides they stand on, it never takes Scar long to slip between the barbs of Grian’s scowl and soften the points into a smile.

Scar is entirely too aware of such an issue for Grian’s personal liking, if how his eyes crinkle at the corners is anything to go by. “A matching pair we make, then!”

“Hey, now, don’t go lumping me into this.” Grian’s sure the blue glasses look silly on him without the context of the rest of Scar’s get-up.

From a nearby tree, a spider leaps towards them with its mandibles splayed. Grian strikes it down in two hits; after it disappears, he turns to raise an eyebrow at Scar.

“Maybe the sword had some use,” Scar concedes, “but not against me!”

“We’re both green; I wouldn’t have killed you anyway,” Grian remarks.

“Of course, of course, that comes later.” Scar is easily wry and comfortably teasing.

“Of course.” Grian smirks. The night is dark. The faint, flickering light of a nearby torch illuminates Scar’s lingering smile—a small, private thing, accompanied by a slight pitch in his brow. Grian’s voice comes out lower than he means it to as he says, “Best be getting back, yeah? You wouldn’t want to lose time to some old skeleton.”

“Bedtime waits for no man.” Scar nods. “Especially if you’re teamed with Bdubs.”

Grian laughs. His fingers twitch at his side for something he can’t name but feels twisting in his chest. “Goodnight, Scar.”

“Goodnight, Grian!” With one last flash of his teeth, Scar’s unprotected back recedes further into the forest as he heads for the Clockers’ base. A beat passes, then another, as Grian’s feet remain rooted in place.

Nearby rattling shakes him of his stupor. Sighing, Grian passes a hand over his face as he starts in the direction of the bridge. Belatedly, he realizes he’s still wearing Scar’s glasses.

He folds them carefully into his pocket before he reaches the Bread Bridge. The world’s strangeness no longer has the justification of a filtered view. The stars don’t look quite right above him.

Before beginning the climb to the half-burnt mansion’s roof, Grian lightly touches the glasses’ translucent rim. He does not think about too-green eyes and too-indulgent smiles. He does not think about blood that always stains the same.

He’ll give the glasses back tomorrow.

[greykolla-art]

Me and @nicstylus did a little art trade! Lineart by me, colouring by him.😊

Go check him out! He does amazing comic scenes from the books too! So full of expressions and so many characters!👏💖

It was so fun, I’ve never done an art trade before! 💖

[jazziejax]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐙

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Bad Boys AU! Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC & Bad Boys AU! Aaron Pierre x Black!OC

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - A normal day for the FBI agents who bicker like a married couple is the first day of many odd ones for a rich and beautiful business woman. But let’s look into how they first met.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - cursing…a lot, mentions of people’s races, descriptions of appearances, mentions of escorting, food wasting, I hope that’s all but let me know if I missed anything.

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - I have a lot planned for this Bad Boys AU, and I’m gonna love every second of it. That’s is if I get to wiring it all….we’ll see. I don’t want to poor anything but this could be a love triangle or… something polyamorous. UNEDITED AS OF RIGHT NOW!!!, I really wanted to get this out because I was so exited about what you guys thought, it’s 2:13 am. Also, this could be read as an ‘x reader’ I try to tray away from detailed descriptions. I just like to use names because it’s easier for me, I know you are all sick and tried of the self inserts and OC’s. It’s just easier for me to add a name :(

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 4,282+

𝐌𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓

“Does this spaceship have any damn air in it?” The man from the passenger seat with his shades on asked, his voice muffled as he chewed on his burger. The sun was beating down on them through the small car and the heat was causing him to become irritable.

The taller and lighter man glanced over at him, his hand on the steering wheel as he leaned back in his expensive leather seats. “Quit worrying about my air and start worrying about that food in my car.” He said, glancing back at the road before looking back over at the hungry man over his own shades. “What is this having a picnic shit in my car?” He asked.

Kelvin sighed, pushing his shades up to rest on his head. “Please man, not right now, not today.” He said, annoyance clear on his tongue as he looked over at his partner. “I’m not getting any at home, don’t deny me this.” He spat before moving to take another bite of his burger. The light-skinned man couldn’t help the small amused grin that made its way into his face. “I mean, yeah, how could you when you still live with your mother.” He chortled. Kelvin snapped his head over to him, his eyes sharp. “I do not live with my mother!”

“Yes, you do. You live with your whole damn family!”

“I do not! I bought my family a big ass house and this economy is shit, okay?” Kelvin stated through slightly clenched teeth. “I can’t keep taking women back to my crappy ass apartment that I got on my crappy ass cop salary!” He continued as Aaron sped through the sunny city in the Florida heat. Unbeknownst to both of them, a car was in their trail.

Aaron was about to respond again before he got distracted by the huge bite Kelvin took from the burger and the fries he stuffed from his lap. He scrubbed his lip over at him. “Could you watch it with all that shit, alright?” Kelvin rolled his eyes and threw his head back with a grin as she chewed his food. After swallowing, he gave the man next to him a dead stare.

“Where are your cup holders?” He asked, disregarding what the man said as he looked around the small car. Aaron trained his eyes back on the road, clenching his hands on the steering wheel. “I don’t have one.”

“The hell do you mean you don’t have one?” He asked, his face scrunched in pure befuddlement at what his friend was saying. “$80,000 for this car and you ain’t got no damn cup holders?”

“It’s $105,000 and this just happens to be one of the fastest production of cars on the planet,” Aaron told him confidently, speeding the old model sports car up on the road out of pure cockiness. “0-16 in four seconds, sweetie. It’s a limited edition.” He smirked.

“Limited?” Kelvin said. “You got damn right it’s limited. No cup holder, no back seat. This is a shiny duck with two chairs in it. And I guess that makes us the balls just dragging the fuck along, huh?” He hissed before he reached into his lap for some fries, but the fast car and his clumsy nature caused the fries to fall, falling out of the small carton box they were in. “Oh, damn.” He mumbled, shooting a glance at his driving friend. Aaron’s head quickly snapped over to him, looking between the spilled fries and his hungry partner. “Sorry.” Kelvin winced.

Aaron then quickly wrapped the sports car into the nearest sidewalk, parking the vehicle. He took his shades off, still looking between the food on his floor and the crevices in between with a sharp eye, and then back up at the quickly agitated man. “Get it up.” He said firmly. Kelvin scoffed, looking the man up and down as he held his half-eaten burger.

“Now I know you see I can’t get down there. There’s no place for me to sit anything with this shitty car of yours.” He spat. The pair were so caught up in their bickering that they still didn’t catch the car that’s been trailing them, park right when they did. “And you got a damn engineering floor up in here, my shit ain’t going down up in there.” He said, holding up his hand to show that it wouldn’t fit.

“You know what, I’m not your damn mama.” Aaron spat. “I shouldn’t be cleaning up after your filthy ass.” Kelvin immediately held his finger up to his face. “Keep my mother out of your mouth, A-A-Ron, I told you that.”

“Quit calling me that!”

“And watch my hand, okay?” Kelvin ignored him as he continued, moving to try and stuff his hand in between the seats. “It can barely get down there. And when it does, it gets stuck. And what does that make, you get this shit!” He chided, hosing up the same hand to show his now crooked and coned fingers, a small grinning his face. Aaron gave him a black stare, both of the men unbeknownst to the women coming down the sidewalk and the woman from behind them sent as a distraction.

“You gone get them fries,” Aaron told him.

And while they were absorbed within their world of car chat and being tailed, two women were walking down the street having a conversation of their own.

“Thanks again, Fab.” One of the women said, glancing next to her to see her friend licking away at the frozen cream treat in the sugar cone. “For the ice cream, I mean.” She mumbled, glancing back down her the pink ice cream she held in her fist. The other woman glanced over as she swept her fresh blow out from her face. “I told you it was no problem, Addy.” She shrugged before giving her double chocolate ice cream another lick, the Miami sun shining down on her bronze skin.

It was silent then, the pair listening to the sound of their shoes hitting the pavement, Addy’s kitten heels making small taps while Fabiola’s stilettos punted against the pavement in her tried strut. They enjoyed their treats under the blazing sun, ears tuned into the chirping grids, the sound of playing children, and the city life moving past them. The air was thick with tension, both of their thoughts filled with burning assumptions, unanswered questions, and overflowing uncertainty.

This was still new for them. All of it. Although Addison and Fabiola had been friends for a while, their new living situation was still a task to get around, and there were certain lines neither of them ever crossed. Knowing each other since junior year of college, most would say they were best friends with opposite personalities. Addy was an adrenaline junkie to her core. She spent most of her college time drinking and throwing ragers. She was known for her sweet personality and down with all the frats and sororities. And no matter how hard she partied, she never failed an exam. Essays might not have been her strongest suit but she was damn good with numbers.

Fabiola on the other hand was sort of the opposite. She had her fair share of nice times on campus but she wasn’t really a ‘people person’. Fabiola grew up as the youngest girl of three boys with a beautiful mother and a strict and traditional father. She was a bossy perfectionist with a small temper and a no-bullshit attitude. All that to say, she was spoiled rotten, and making friends didn’t come easy. She hadn’t had a consistent friend in her life up until college. Now, she wasn’t a complete loner, she had friends at school growing up, but she never went out of her way to hang out with any of them. She was focused on one thing and that was her career. After seeing her mom be a housewife for so long, she knew it was a life that she never wanted to live. So he had her group and stuck to them.

That was until she was almost failing trigonometry and everyone she knew was recommending the campus's famous engineering major, Addison Montez. They would meet in the library every Friday afternoon to study, and eventually Fab began to help Addy with her papers for history. They were studying friends until the oh-so-comfortable and relaxed Addison recommended they go out to a party instead of being trapped within the thick smell of old paper and stale wood. And after that homecoming rager that took place at the HBCU two miles out, let’s just say they were almost inseparable after that.

It’s been years since then though. Life got real for them quickly and it was hard to keep in touch. Fabiola went on to inherit most of the money of her father when he passed since two of her brothers ended up being absolute useless shits with no career and the eldest son ran the medical equipment company. All while her mother ran off to Switzerland to marry a rich white man who was also widowed. They all still kept in touch but things were a little odd now.

Addison’s life, on the other hand, went a little downhill. She was never able to her master's degree because she didn’t have the money to pay for college. Things got so stressful for her point that she had to drop out, which her folks were not happy about. She could only live in her small hometown in the middle of bun-fuck nowhere working at GoodWill for two years before she packed her things into her shit box of a car and ran. That’s how she ended up in Miami, in her little apartment now making more than she was at Goodwill, although life still wasn’t that great considering what she now did for money. And that didn’t last long because the building she lived in was sold and she now needed a place to crash until she collected more cash.

And after bumping into Fabiola at the lingerie store, things went from there. They were friends again after so long. Casual and lighthearted conversations filled their hearts pure.

But their forced proximity begged for more clarity.

Fabiola moved her brown leather bag to her other hand, slipping it into the cuff of her elbow as she continued to eat her ice cream, biting into the cone and then licking some of the cream that fell away from her deep red manicured nails. She then looked down at her outfit, making sure the dripping treat didn’t hit her nice sweater or her crisp white shirt under it. “Just say what you’re thinking Addison.” She said, not even looking over at her friend before going back to her ice cream once she saw her outfit was clear.

Addison glanced over at her, licking her ice cream at a slower pace as her mind became more closed with doubts. She had her arms crossed, her free hand against the hairs in her exposed arms, due to the black halter turtle neck she had on that matched her small black heels, all paired with simple jeans. “I just…you don’t know how much I appreciate you.” She said. Her words were met with a groan from Fabiola, the woman throwing her head back.

“Enough.” She said firmly, turning her head to her. “You’ve said thank you to me more than you’ve lived longer with me. And it’s been two weeks.”

“I know, I know,” Addy added in a dejected tone, only giving the strawberry-flavored dessert in her hand kitten licks. “It just really means a lot to me right now. You don’t even know how much.” She said, letting out a small sigh. Fabiola’s eyes flickered back at her at her mellow tone, taking in the woman’s lost stare and guarded form. She awkwardly pressed her lips together, her eyes flicking away since she found the cars passing on the street much more interesting than the emotionally charged atmosphere. She then gulped. “Just say what you really want to say.” She said, the words coming out firmer than she anticipated. She ignored it, however, her eyes still looking at anything but the woman next to her as they walked back to her car.

Addison glanced her way when she spoke, but was met with the woman tucking her shoulder-length blowout behind her ear. She gulped herself, pursing her lips as she looked away. “I…” She trailed off. “I just don’t think it’s best for me to say it in this environment. In the open.”

“I would rather you say it before we’re trapped in my car for the next twenty minutes until we make it back to my place.” Fabiola didn’t miss a beat, cutting her eyes at her from the corner. “No pressure but it might be more awkward for you.” She said, and before she could finish, she then realized why she didn’t have many friends. Feelings were never really her thing, and this sensitive subject that Addison was clearly going through wasn’t her forte at all.

Addison nodded at her words as she licked her lips, totally forgetting about the melting treat in her hands. “Yeah, you’re right.” She sighed. “Okay. I, um…. Okay…I…work for a Madam.” She added quickly after her stuttering spout, then ate the rest of her ice cream as quickly as she could. Fabiola turned her lips up at her, watching as the woman sucked the ice cream that was most just cream now, from the cone. Addison turned to her, seeing her disgusted face. “Okay, damn, no need for the look.” She spat.

Fabiola blinked. “No, that was for the way you ate the rest of that ice cream.” She added, giving her a sideways glance as she bit into her cone. “I don’t really care about that other thing.” She shrugged as she brought her gold wire shades down to cover her eyes, her hair blowing more in its free form with the wind in her strut. Addison’s brows shot out at that. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged as she sped up some, seeing her car in the distance. “A check is a check, sweetie.” She said, flashing the girl a smirk and wink before licking at her ice cream again. They were coming upon her car, causing the woman to dig into her purse to find her keys with one hand. Addison blinked, shocked at her blasé attitude, and nodded her head as she followed after the woman. “Well, it’s not really a check.” She added with a small smirk. Fabiola glanced over at her, her arm still out as she dug into her purse to fetch her keys. “Well, money is still money.” She added, mocking annoyance with a smirk still on her lips as she found her keys. Addison grinned as well, watching as the woman stepped into the street to open her car door.

They paused however at the sound of commotion at the car behind them.

Back in the car, Kelvin and Aaron were still arguing.

“How imma get the damn fries, A-A-Ron?”

“Quit calling me that! Now look, this ain’t no got damn Denny’s, ain’t no eating in my car.” Aaron said before movement out of the windshield window caught his attention. His eyes were completely disregarding the woman in white, tilting his head to look around the planned distraction at the two women coming down the pavement.

“I wouldn’t be buying no shit from Denny’s anyway!” Kelvin continued, not paying attention to what the other man was staring at. “I don’t like the way we would’ve been treated.” He said before his eyes caught sight of the woman in white walking around the car. He looked the pale gorgeous woman in the short white dress up and down before glancing back at Aaron. “You weren’t worried about no damn fries anyway.” He snarked, looking the man up and down. “You all up in that.” He said. He then realized Aaron wasn’t all up in that white woman passing by, but the two beauties walking down the street. Kelvin glanced over, and it was like everything transformed into slow motion.

They watched as a woman in a grey suit practically strutted down the street. Her straight hair was touching her collarbones and belonged in the wind, her shades covering her eyes. She walked with a sense of authority and confidence, her equally attractive friend a few steps behind her, as she licked away at the chocolate ice cream in her hands.

“Damn.” Kelvin and Aaron said at the same time in the same breathy tone, tilting their heads as they looked the duo up and down, moving to the car in front of them.

They couldn’t admire her long before they were interrupted by the sight of guns entering their periphery.

“Get out of the car.” The scrawny white guy spat at Aaron. He glanced at the man before shaking his head with a sigh while Kelvin just dripped his.

“Damn.” He and Kelvin repeated. L

Kelvin looked the big burly man next to him up and down in disgust before his eyes went back to the gun lined at his face. “Now ain’t this some bullshit.” He spat. “The fuck is this?” Their attention was no longer on the women in front of them, but their attention was now on them.

“Me and my team, we’ve had a big week, so just get the fuck out of the car.” The white guy spat at them. Kelvin was too busy squinting his eyes against the sun as he looked out of the car at the large guy who held him at gunpoint. “Damn!” He said again, looking him up and down. “What you weigh in at, 350? I bet you a big Popeye chicken-eating son of bitch, ain’t you? Churches?” He asked causing Aaron to roll his eyes as he brought his hands up in surrender. “Hey, hey. Let’s chill.” He began when the man brought the gun closer.

Kelvin turned to his partner, his arms still down as he frowned. “Why do I always gotta get the big thick mothafuckas?” He tiffed. This only gained a reaction from the men who were robbing them. “Get the hell out of the car, now!” The white guy hissed as he moved to piped the door, causing the large guy to follow. Aaron and Kelvin were quick to exit, their hands raised. “Alright, alright, alright!” Kelvin yelled as he stepped out with his cup in his hand. He looked at the man in front of him while the other guy tried to lean Aaron against the car.

Fabiola and Addison looked back at the commotion, their mouths dropping at the sight of the robbery happening in front of them. Addison was quick to drop the soggy cone and move to the car, squatting down some in case things got wild but Fabiola was stuck, the rest of her cone in her mouth, scared to move in case the men’s guns turned their way. They stood there, just watching and listening.

“You know, now this is some funny shit,” Aaron said, his tone fed up as he held his hands up, glancing between the men that surround him.

“Shut up!” The small guy yelled. But Aaron just ignored him, looking at the angry man. “Let me tell you how bad a day you’re having. Right now you’re having a couple of FBI agents.” He stated. The shirt guy with sweat sliding down his face just looked at him. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m a stand-up comedian.” He added. “And I suck! That’s why I need your car.” He shouted through clenched teeth as he took a step closer.

“We’re dealing with a couple of cops and some lunatics out here,” Fabiola stared on with bated breath, not able to rip her eyes star from the scene.

“Hey, look!” Kelvin spoke up, still not having taken his eyes off the man in front of him. “I ain’t no Wesley Snipes, I just hang out with stupid ass friends that drive stupid ass cars that’s attract a lot mothafuckin’ attention!” He yelled, emphasizing his words every time he glanced back at said ‘stupid ass friend’, who now had a gun to his head. Aaron didn’t seem to care about any of that at the moment, his jaw downing at Kelvin’s statement.

“You know what? I need to jump over this car and smack you upside your peasy ass head, that’s what I need to do.”

This caused Kelvin to turn around, the men now facing each other as they disregarded the burglars who watched them. Fabiola furrowed her bed at them while Addison raised from her crouch position, less scared as she watched the so-called cops argue with guns to their backs. “A couple of lunatics as cops too.” She said, adding to what she heard Fabiola state. They watched as the men screamed at one another, the men with guns slightly backing off out of confusion and tension.

“Yeah, cause your ass was arguing over a stupid ass, mothafuckin, French fry!”

“It’s not about the French fry!”

“It’s a fry!”

“It’s about your lack of respect for other people's property!” Aaron screamed, pointing over at him.

“Hey, hey, hey!” The scrawny man behind Aaron yelled.

“That shit is stupid!” Kelvin shouted back at Aaron. “Shut the fuck up!” The large dark-skinned man spoke up, pointing his gun at him. Kelvin’s head snapped back to him, face grimaced in pure anger. “Hold on! You hold the FUCK ON!” He yelled at him before turning back to argue. “Now you want some bad enough, come get some!” He added before quickly turning around and throwing his chocolate milkshake onto the large man, not missing a beat to kick him in the nuts and then rip the gun off his hips. All while Aaron simultaneously elbowed the man behind him in the face before then turning to sucker punch him, causing the perps to both hit the ground.

“You like that shit?!” Kelvin continued to yell, pointing his gun down at him. He moved around, kicking the gun far from the burglars' hands as he held his own to the man’s head. “Wesley Snipes, Passenger 57! Now give me a mothafuckin’ handy wipe!” He spat with a smirk, his glare on the large man.

Aaron let out a sigh as he pulled out his gun, pointing it down at the man who seemed to be concussed on the ground.

“Now let’s hear one of those jokes, bitch.” He spat. He heard w let out a large laugh from the other side of the car, causing him to glance over. He had a smirk of his own on his lips, green eyes relaxing in the sun. Their ultra-cool moment was interrupted by the sound of a car unlocking, causing both cops to look over at the two women from earlier staring at them.

Addison was quick to open her door, her eyes darting between the scene in front of her one last time. “Sick shit.” She said with a grin before entering the car. Fabiola still stood there, shocked as she looked between the two cops. It seemed as though the halt in the screaming caused her to snap out of her thoughts, leading her to blink. Her eyes moved over to the shorter man, who was dressed in a simple white tee and black dress pants, all high in his built figure. The hold of his chain, belt buckle, and other jewelry stood out against his brown skin. His shirt waves were smooth on his head and his cute face was sort of clean-shaven, her eyes attaching themselves to his stunning and plump lips.

“What she said.” She spoke up, nodding her head to the woman in the car. “That was…cool.” She nodded. Her sultry voice caused both men to tense up but quickly relaxed, the smooth sound unexpected to both of them. Her shades were also on, covering her eyes from telling them what she truly thought, and why she was still there speaking to them. Kelvin nodded his head at her, not hiding the way he looked her up and down. “Thanks.” He said, a small smirk making his way into his lips.

She nodded at him before her eyes then made their way to the man on the other side of the car. His figure was taller and larger, and although his suit was baggier, she could tell the muscles under it were strong and sculpted. His outfit was similar to Kevin’s, although his was grey and he had his blazer on. What caught her attention the most was his eyes, the bright and striking color of them held her captivated from the rest of his face. The icy blue irises looked back at her as her eyes gave his face a quick once over, admiring his large ears and nice goatee, and a sexy smolder on his lips.

“Nice car.” She added, nodding at the fancy Porsche that they surrounded. Aaron blinked, his eyes not leaving her face. He was caught in the way the hair blew the wind, framing her face perfectly. Though he only knew her for mere seconds, he hoped desperately that some unknown force would come in a swoop the glasses from her face to see her clearly. “Thank you. Porsche.” He said, snapping out of his quick start of thinking. His eyes then moved to the one she stood by, nodding his ear down to it. “What that?” He asked.

The pair could both see one of her brow arch at his question, a smirk making its way into her lips. “A Ferrari.” She said, placing her hand on her hip as she looked between the two of them. Aaron’s eyes widened as he stood straighter, looking between the car and the woman. “F512M. Nice right? I know.” He said, not even waiting for a response to her question that she answered herself before opening the door. She didn’t even give them one last glance before hopping into the nice grey car and pulling off, making sure to rev her nice engine.

Kelvin and Aaron stood there, guns still pinged at her knocked-out perps, watching the car as it quickly drove away from them. Kelvin seemed to relax without the woman in his vicinity, his shoulders dropping but his arms still raised to aim his gun. “We should get these guys…somewhere. I want ‘em the hell up outta my face.” He grumbled before moving to grab his phone and pager from the car to call down the local police. Aaron raised as well, his gaze moving from the sunset the woman drove off into, to the hot pavement the burglar laid on. “Forget them, this one’s probably dead. I wanna know who the hell that was.”

“Someone out of both of our leagues,” Kelvin added, his focus on the phone in his hands. Aaron jerked his head back, sending the man a dirty look. Before he could even begin an argument, Kelvin had already raised his finger, halting him. “Even for you Mr.Playboy. You don’t have a Ferrari.” He said before sending him a sarcastic smile and then turning away with the phone held up his ear.

Meanwhile, in the car, Fabiola had a grin on her face as she pushed her glasses back up into her hair. “Girl, them cops were fione!” She said, causing Addison to laugh. “You know, besides all the armed robbery stuff, that wasn’t a bad sight. I love to see some brothers in action.” She cheesed, letting out a laugh as she rethought the whole ordeal they witnessed.

“Yeah, they were pretty fine.” Addison nodded, dragging out the word pity as she grabbed the matinee she left in the woman’s dashboard. “And probably married. Brothas that cute can’t be single. Agents at that. And in that car? I know their women love them.”

“Mmhmm.” Fabiola hummed in agreement, a small smirk on her lips as she nodded her head. She then let out a scoff at a sudden thought. “Probably white women too.” She stated, causing Addison to let one out as well. “Let’s get off that.” Fabiola waved off with a quick roll of her eyes. She couldn’t dwell on the thought of those fine men being tired down so some non-sisters that couldn’t love them and understand like she could.

What the hell am I talking about? I don’t know them and I’m damn sure never gonna to see them again, get over it, girl. This is the adrenaline and sugar talking. She thought to herself.

“Why the hell don’t I know Miami was this crazy? I knew it was fun in the sun but damn, am I gonna get a gun pulled on me?”

“I’m this car in certain areas? Sista they might try to kidnap you for ransom.”

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

My tumblr is tripping, I don’t have a tag list for some reasons so if you want to be part of it, let me know, and pretend that Aaron has an American accent or I will make jokes on why a British man is apart of the United States FBI.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Strictly Confidential - San

~"Hiii❤️Can you pls write one where you are the mafia San’s lawyer, but since you are kind hearted and innocent ( not naive) he got his eyes on you??Corruption kink, (iffff it’s ok with you reader can be a virgin), dirty talk (including how much he was longing for you and waiting to take you), mild bondage, possessiveness, (reader has a crush on San too but wouldn’t think San would even look at them), pampering reader while ripping them into half <3 thank youuu❤️" ~ sweetie you also added sth about pregnancy but unfortunately I don't write those😞 but I loved the idea so I just didn't add the pregnancy talk ^^ hope you like ittt 🤍

pairing: ceo!san x lawyer fem!reader

genre: filth, 18+

summary: your outfit is *just* a little bit too revealing for San to not react.. and later that evening, he drops on his knees for you, then he ruins you.

wc: 5.5k

warnings: ceo!san, possessive san, slightly controlling san, corruption kink *just slightly*, reader is a virgin, restraining/light bondage (her hands tied up with san's belt), office sex, he doesn't even bother to take her skirt off, san's desperate, he eats her out, multiple orgasms, cursing, dirty talk/degradation (slut), praising (good girl), ass spanking, face pushing (into the desk), pounding *literally*, vaginal sex, teasing, unprotected (booo use protection irl!), completely consensual!, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: why do I feel like this one is written better than my last San request..? either way y'all will see I DAMN enjoyed writing this one 😂 the detailssss sjsjshsuushs controlling san sjshshshs possessive san ajsjshhs and so on I'm biting my knuckles as we speak. I hope you all enjoy it ^^ ly guys 🎀

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

You should’ve known the outfit would push him too far.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, not at first. The silk blouse, a shade too light, clung in ways that weren’t entirely professional, the top button left undone just enough to hint at something softer underneath. The skirt hugged your waist, cutting off at mid-thigh when you sat, revealing just a sliver more skin than usual. It wasn’t indecent. It wasn’t against the rules. But it was enough.

Enough to make Choi San snap.

You’ve been his lawyer for months now—long enough to know that he watches you more than he should. Long enough to catch the way his gaze lingers when you speak, dark eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up as if he didn’t mean to. Long enough to hear the shift in his voice when he says your name, the slow drag of it on his tongue.

You’ve known, and you’ve played along—just a little. Just enough to keep things interesting.

But today, something is different and you feel it the second you step into his office.

San is already standing, a rare thing given that he usually prefers to remain seated behind his desk, lazy and composed, as if the world itself is something he can toy with at his leisure. But now, he’s braced against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, eyes pinned on you the moment the door clicks shut behind you.

His silence is thick, crackling with something dark and unreadable.

Slowly, you set your leather portfolio onto the desk, tilting your head ever so slightly. “Something wrong, Mr. Choi?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, but it isn’t a smile. It’s something sharper. “Come here.”

A demand, not a request.

You raise a brow. “I thought we had business to discuss.”

“I won’t repeat myself.”

It’s a warning. A test.

And you should say no. You should keep things professional. You should sit in the chair across from his desk like you always do, open your portfolio, and get straight to business. But you don’t.

Instead, you take a step forward. Then another.

San stays perfectly still, watching, waiting, as if savoring the moment. When you finally stop in front of him, barely an arm’s length away, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, the scent of leather and spice wrapping around you like a slow-burning fire.

He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he’s about to dismantle. Then, his eyes drop—slow, deliberate.

Your blouse. Your throat. The delicate slope of your collarbone. The soft curve of your chest where the undone button reveals just a little too much.

His jaw tightens.

And just like that, you realize—he’s been holding himself back.

For months, he’s played this game with you, circling, waiting, indulging in stolen glances and veiled innuendos. But today, you’ve tipped the scales. Today, you’ve worn something that makes him forget to be careful.

San exhales through his nose, almost like he’s amused, almost like he’s irritated with himself. Then, without warning, he reaches out.

Fingers curl under your chin, tilting your face up.

“You did this on purpose.” His voice is low, rougher than before.

You don’t flinch. Don’t waver. Instead, you smile—slow, knowing. “Did what?”

San laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Cute.”

His thumb brushes over your jaw, barely a whisper of a touch, but the intent behind it is unmistakable. He’s testing. Measuring.

And you let him.

Because for all his power, for all his control—he’s the one unraveling.

His gaze dips to your lips, lingers there. When he speaks again, his voice is even lower, dangerously smooth.

“You walk in here looking like this and expect me to behave?”

“I expect you to be professional,” you say, and you make sure to let the words drip with teasing, with something that is not quite innocence but plays at the edges of it.

San hums. “Is that what you want?”

His fingers trail down, brushing the column of your throat.

You don’t answer.

Not with words.

Instead, you tilt your head slightly, just enough for his thumb to press against the hollow of your throat. Just enough to let him feel the pulse beneath your skin.

San stills.

Then—he moves.

One hand splays against your hip, gripping, tugging you closer until you’re barely a breath apart. His other hand trails up, slipping beneath the loose collar of your blouse, fingertips skimming over bare skin. It’s barely a touch, barely anything at all—yet it sets every nerve alight.

“You’re not as innocent as you look.” His voice is dark, laced with something dangerously indulgent.

You smile, lashes lowering just slightly. “I never said I was.”

San’s grip tightens.

And for the first time since you stepped into his office, you think you might have miscalculated.

Because you’ve been teasing him for months. Playing at the edges of this, knowing he wanted you but never letting him have enough to tip the scales.

But now?

Now, you can feel it—the shift, the moment he decides.

He isn’t going to let you play anymore.

You should resist.

You should step back, put distance between you and the man currently pressing you into the edge of his desk like he has every intention of keeping you there.

But you don’t.

Not really.

Instead, you let your hands press against his chest, the silk of his dress shirt warm beneath your fingertips. It’s a flimsy excuse for protest, a barrier that does nothing because you both know—if you really wanted to stop him, you would.

San catches the movement, and for a moment, he stills.

Dark eyes flicker to yours, sharp and assessing, scanning your face for something—hesitation, uncertainty, anything that might make him reconsider.

You arch a brow, lips curling just slightly. “A little desperate, aren’t we?”

San exhales sharply through his nose, and then—he laughs.

Low, rough, almost wrecked.

And then he moves.

Faster than you expect, pinning you between the hard edge of his desk and the even harder press of his body. His hand slides up, fingers catching your wrist, pressing your palm flat against his chest. The other settles low on your waist, fingertips digging in just enough to make your breath hitch.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs.

Your heart stutters.

Because you’ve had a crush on him for months.

Ever since you first met him, ever since you realized the sharp-edged CEO persona wasn’t just for show. He was powerful, ruthless, magnetic in a way that made people obey without question. And yet, he’d always been just a little different with you. Always watching, always waiting.

But you never let yourself believe he actually wanted you.

Not like this.

Not enough to snap.

San must see something in your expression, because his grip tightens. “You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice is smooth, but there’s something else beneath it—something rough, something frayed. “You think I haven’t seen the way you play with me?”

His lips brush against your cheek, not quite kissing, not quite touching, just a slow, maddening drag of heat.

“You walk into my office every week, looking like you don’t belong in a place like this, looking like you shouldn’t be anywhere near men like me.”

His mouth ghosts over your jaw, just shy of where you want him.

“And yet…” His hand slides lower, fingers teasing over the fabric of your skirt. “You always let me get too close.”

A slow, teasing exhale against your skin.

“You’ve been testing me, haven’t you?”

Your breath catches, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of an immediate response.

So instead, you tilt your head ever so slightly, forcing him to drag his lips against your skin in the process. “Maybe,” you whisper.

San curses under his breath.

And the next second he’s kissing you.

Hard. Desperate.

It’s not soft, not tentative—it’s months of restraint snapping like a live wire. His hand slides up, tangling in your hair, angling your head back to deepen the kiss, to take more. His tongue parts your lips, claiming your mouth with a hunger that makes your knees weak.

He kisses like he owns you. Like he’s been waiting for this, for you, for far too long.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, pulling, clawing, needing more.

San groans against your lips, and then he’s pulling back just enough to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, his lips are red from kissing you, and he looks completely, utterly wrecked.

“I’ve waited for this.” His voice is rough, frayed with something unspoken. “You think I didn’t notice you? That I didn’t feel it every single time you walked through that door, acting so fucking innocent, knowing damn well what you were doing to me?”

His fingers tighten on your waist, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“I wanted to ruin you the moment I met you.”

Your breath shudders.

San notices. Smirks.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” His voice dips lower, teasing. “You want me to take what you’ve been tempting me with?”

You shouldn’t say yes.

You should make him work for it.

But the way he looks at you—the way his body presses against yours, the way his fingers trace slow, maddening circles over your hip—has you completely undone.

So instead, you breathe, “Yes.”

And that’s all it takes.

San makes a sound—something dark, something pleased—before his lips crash back against yours, hungry and unrelenting. His hands are everywhere, gripping, pressing, mapping out every inch of you like he wants to memorize it.

He kisses down your throat, sucks a mark into your skin, groaning when you arch into him. “Mine,” he murmurs against your collarbone. “You don’t get to tease me anymore. Not after this.”

You shudder, nails digging into his shoulders.

And then, finally, you surrender completely.

San doesn’t hesitate.

One moment, you’re standing against his desk, breathless from the force of his kiss, and the next—his hands are gripping your waist, lifting you with ease. A gasp slips past your lips as he sets you down onto the cool wooden surface, the shift in height making you acutely aware of how much he towers over you.

The movement sends half the contents of his desk crashing to the floor. A pen rolls somewhere unseen. Papers scatter in a careless mess. He doesn’t care.

Neither do you.

Not when his hands slide up your thighs, spreading them just enough to make space for himself between them. Not when his mouth crashes back onto yours, all heat and teeth, breathy and desperate, like he’s trying to devour you whole.

It’s overwhelming.

The way he kisses you—possessive, unrelenting, like he’s been starved for this, for you. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging in as if he’s anchoring himself to you, as if letting go isn’t an option.

And you—

You kiss him back just as fiercely.

Your hands find purchase in his suit jacket, tugging him closer, needing more, gasping softly when he presses flush against you. His warmth, his scent—everything about him consumes you.

Then—

You break away.

Not because you want to, but because there’s something you need to say.

Your chest rises and falls, lips kiss-bruised, head spinning. San doesn’t move away, his forehead pressing against yours, breath hot against your lips.

“What?” His voice is wrecked, strained with restraint he’s barely holding onto.

Your fingers tighten against his jacket.

“I—I’m a virgin.”

San stills.

Completely.

You watch as his expression shifts—dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, something dangerous. His grip on your waist tightens for a second before he stills again, as if forcing himself to process what you just said.

Then—

He exhales sharply, running his tongue along his bottom lip, and the slow, wicked curl of his mouth makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck.”

The word is low, rough, dragged out like he’s savoring it.

His hands move again, sliding over your thighs with newfound purpose, fingertips teasing against your exposed skin. He leans in, lips grazing over your jaw, down the column of your throat, tracing the shape of you with agonizing precision.

“You’re serious?” he murmurs against your skin.

You swallow hard, nodding.

San lets out another rough exhale, then pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his expression dark with something unreadable, something deeply, deeply pleased.

“You have no idea,” he says slowly, deliberately, “what that does to me.”

Your breath hitches.

His lips find yours once more, but this time, the kiss is different. Slower, more calculated, yet no less intense. He kisses you like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way you respond to every touch, every shift of his body against yours.

His fingers trail up, reaching the buttons of your blouse, and he undoes them one by one, exposing more of you with every slow, deliberate flick of his hands. He doesn’t rush.

No—San takes his time.

And you let him.

Your breath stutters when he pushes the fabric aside, revealing bare skin, delicate lace. The cool air makes you shiver—or maybe it’s just him, the way his gaze darkens as he drinks in the sight of you.

He curses under his breath.

His fingers twitch like he wants to touch, to claim, to devour.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with something reverent, something wrecked.

And then—

He starts undoing his own buttons.

The sight alone has you utterly mesmerized.

You watch, transfixed, as he shrugs off his jacket, as he unbuttons his dress shirt, revealing inch after inch of smooth, sculpted skin. He moves slowly, almost teasingly, as if drawing out the moment just to watch your reaction.

And you—

You can’t help but stare.

San is unfairly gorgeous.

Broad shoulders, toned muscles, a physique that looks like it was carved by gods themselves. The way the soft glow of the office light catches against the lines of his body, the dips and curves of his abdomen, the sharp cut of his collarbones—it's intoxicating.

And then, your gaze drops lower.

And you freeze.

Oh.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling the full weight of his cock straining against his pants and pressing on your body.

San catches your reaction, and the smirk that pulls at his lips is nothing short of devastating.

“Mesmerized?” His voice is low, teasing, laced with amusement and something else—something darker.

You don’t answer.

Can’t.

Not when the heat of his body is so close, not when his fingers are still trailing over your skin, slow and deliberate.

And then, he leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers—

“You should be.”

San watches you like he’s already won.

Like you’ve been his from the moment you walked into his office, oblivious to the fire you were playing with.

His fingers trace along your exposed collarbone, slow and teasing, barely touching, but enough to make your skin prickle with heat. His eyes drag over you, dark and ravenous, taking in the way your chest rises and falls with every breath, the way your thighs are still parted for him, your skirt hiked up from how recklessly he had pulled you onto his desk.

Then—he smirks.

That slow, knowing smirk that makes something in your stomach coil tight.

“You really have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” His voice is deep, smooth as silk, but there’s a sharp edge to it.

You swallow, fingers curling against the desk, but you don’t answer.

He tilts his head, almost amused. “Showing up dressed like that—” His hands slide down, fingers skimming the fabric of your skirt, teasing at the hem. “Looking so damn innocent but wearing something like this? You were begging for it.”

Your breath catches, a slow heat creeping up your spine.

San leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Such a little whore, dressing like this just to test me.”

A sharp inhale leaves you.

He chuckles darkly, dragging his lips down to your neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” His tongue flicks against your pulse point, his teeth scraping just enough to make your breath hitch. “Or were you hoping I’d lose control?”

His fingers tighten on your waist.

“Because you got exactly what you wanted.”

Your head spins.

He’s too much—his voice, his hands, the way he’s looking at you like he’s about to ruin you in ways you never even imagined.

San pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and something dark flickers behind his eyes.

Then—

He gets an idea.

His smirk deepens as he looks over your shoulder at the discarded mess on the floor. Then, before you can question it, he steps back slightly, reaching down.

A soft rustle of fabric, the quiet slide of leather—

And then you see it.

The belt he had discarded with his pants that pooled at his ankles.

Your stomach flips.

San runs his tongue over his bottom lip, holding the belt loosely in one hand, testing the weight of it. Then, he meets your gaze again, and for the first time since this started—you shiver.

Possessive.

That’s the only word for the way he looks at you now.

Like you belong to him.

Like he’s about to make sure you never forget it.

“You’ve had too much freedom tonight,” he murmurs, stepping back into your space, the belt dangling from his fingers. “And I think it’s about time we fix that.”

Your pulse spikes.

San reaches for you, his hands trailing down your arms before he gently—so gently—grabs your wrists.

“Give them to me.”

It’s not a request.

It’s a command.

Your lips part slightly, but when you don’t immediately respond, San hums, tilting his head. “Oh?” He smirks. “Are you hesitating now?”

He presses closer, making you lean back slightly, making you feel the solid weight of his body.

“That’s cute.”

You swallow hard, the heat between you becoming unbearable.

San’s fingers tighten ever so slightly around your wrists. “I’ll tell you right now, sweetheart—” His voice dips, eyes locked onto yours. “If I tie you up, I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

A slow, deliberate pause.

Then, he leans in and whispers against your lips—

“You sure you can handle that?”

Your breath is shallow, chest rising and falling as San watches you, waiting. His fingers tighten around your wrists, the belt still dangling from his hand, ready to bind you, ready to claim every inch of control you’ve willingly given up.

And you—

You should hesitate.

You should resist, tease him a little longer.

But you don’t.

Instead, you tilt your chin up, meeting his gaze with a slow, deliberate smirk. “Do it, then.”

A flicker of something dark—dangerous—passes through his eyes. Then, his smirk returns, sharp and satisfied. “Good girl.”

The leather is cool against your skin as he pulls your wrists behind your back, looping the belt around them with practiced ease. It’s not too tight—just enough to hold you there, to remind you who’s in control.

He tugs once, testing the restraint, then hums in approval. “Perfect.”

Before you can process the way your body reacts to that single word, San moves.

His hands slide to your thighs, gripping firmly as he pulls you forward.

Hard.

A gasp leaves your lips as your body jerks, dragged right to the edge of the desk. Your legs part instinctively to accommodate the shift, your breath catching as you feel the undeniable heat of him between them.

San watches your reaction with a lazy smirk. “That’s better.”

Then—

He drops to his knees.

San doesn’t even look away from you as he does it, his movements deliberate, dripping with control. The sight alone—his broad shoulders between your legs, his dark, hungry gaze looking up at you like he’s about to devour you whole—leaves you breathless.

And then—his hands move again.

He doesn’t bother with your skirt.

No.

He slides his fingers along the inside of your thighs, parting them further, his grip firm—possessive. Then, with agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls.

A soft, humiliatingly wet sound follows as he drags the fabric down, exposing just how ruined you already are.

San freezes.

And then—

He chuckles.

A low, deep sound that sends heat shooting straight through your spine.

“Fuck,” he exhales, pressing his thumb against the now-soaked fabric before tossing it somewhere behind him. “Look at you.”

Your face burns, but the way he’s looking at you—with pure, unfiltered hunger—makes shame the last thing on your mind.

Then—he leans in.

And without another word—

He dives in.

San doesn’t hold back.

The moment his mouth touches your folds, a wrecked gasp escapes your lips, your bound hands straining against the belt as your body jerks from the sheer heat of it.

He groans against you, the vibration making you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens—bruising, possessive—as he presses you further against his mouth, like he’s determined to ruin you.

And he does.

His tongue moves with devastating precision—slow, languid strokes, teasing flicks, then firm pressure against your clit that makes your head spin. He eats you like a man starved, like he’s waited his entire life to have you like this, legs trembling around his shoulders, breathless and undone.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back just enough to look at you. His lips glisten with your arousal, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, wrecked with hunger. “So fucking sweet.”

Your face burns, but before you can process it, he’s back on you, his tongue pressing in deeper, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

A broken whimper leaves you.

San chuckles—dark, teasing. He pulls back again, dragging his lips over the inside of your thigh, pressing slow, wet kisses against your skin. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement and something deeper. “Fucking soaking. And all for me?”

You whine, shifting against his hold, but he doesn’t let up.

His teeth graze your thigh, just enough to make you gasp. “You pretend to be so innocent,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat, “but look at how filthy you are. Spreading your legs so easily, letting me taste you like this.”

Your breath stutters, shame and arousal tangling into something unbearable.

San hums, satisfied. “I bet you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” He flicks his tongue against your clit again, making you jolt. “Bet you’ve thought about me bending you over this desk. Tearing you apart.”

His words wreck you.

A high, needy moan spills from your lips, your bound hands clenching behind you.

San groans against you. “That’s it,” he breathes, his tongue moving faster now, pushing you closer, higher. His fingers dig into your thighs as he holds you down, refusing to let you escape the pleasure he’s drowning you in.

Your body tightens, the pressure coiling in your stomach unbearably, winding, winding—

Until it snaps.

A sobbed moan rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of blinding pleasure. Your thighs tremble around his shoulders, your back arching as you cry out, utterly wrecked.

San doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re whimpering, twitching, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overstimulation.

Only then does he slow, his tongue giving you one last, languid stroke before pulling back.

He looks ruined.

His lips are swollen, his hair slightly disheveled, his breath ragged as he stares at you, utterly transfixed. Then, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your thigh before standing.

Your dazed gaze drops—

And your breath catches.

His briefs are painfully tight around his cock, the sheer size of him making your stomach flip.

San curses under his breath, yanking them down in one swift motion.

And then—he’s on you.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading you further as he aligns himself, the heat of him pressing against your still-sensitive core.

Your breath stutters. “San—”

He doesn’t wait.

With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside—

And you break.

A cry rips from your lips, your body arching at the sheer stretch, the way he fills you so completely, so overwhelmingly. Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of it, from the way he buries himself to the hilt, not moving, just feeling you.

San groans, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands tightening on your waist. “Fuck, baby.” His voice is wrecked, trembling with restraint. “You feel so—” He exhales sharply, dropping a kiss against your lips, almost tender.

He soothes you.

One hand trails up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice soft, but his body trembles against yours, barely holding himself back.

And then—he moves.

Destroying you.

Every thrust is deep, dragging against your sensitive walls with devastating precision, pushing you to the brink of insanity. Your bound hands twist behind you, desperate for something—anything—to hold onto, but there’s nothing.

Nothing but him.

And he knows it.

His grip tightens on your waist as he pulls back, making you feel every inch of him, before sinking in again—so deep, so full that you can’t stop the moan that spills from your lips.

San groans, the sound low and wrecked. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw, kissing—nipping. “You hear yourself? You're a fucking whiny mess just for me.”

Your face burns, but the humiliation only makes the pleasure worse—makes your body clench around him, desperate for more.

San feels it. And he looses it.

A sharp growl rumbles from his chest as his pace stays agonizingly slow, but his words turn filthy, raw. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, rolling his hips deep, making you cry out. “Like you were made for me.”

You are.

The thought is dangerous, but it lingers.

San notices.

His fingers trail up your stomach, his touch warm, teasing, possessive. His other hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, ravenous.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done to me,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. “Wearing that little outfit—acting all innocent when you’re dripping for me.”

His hips snap forward, a little harder, and you gasp.

San smirks. “Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

The teasing should make you flinch, should make you want to shy away—but you don’t.

Because you love it.

Because you love him like this—feral, corrupted, completely obsessed with you.

Your moans break into whimpers as his thrusts turn deeper, sharper, but still so slow, so cruelly controlled that your body starts trembling. “San—”

He shushes you.

His lips brush over your temple, soft in contrast to the way he’s utterly wrecking you. “I know, baby,” he murmurs. “I know.”

And yet—

It’s not enough.

For him.

For you.

San curses under his breath, frustration clear in the way his fingers tighten on your waist. “I can’t—” His breath is ragged. “I can’t fucking hold back.”

Before you can process—

San moves.

His grip locks around you, lifting you like you weigh nothing. Your back hits the desk, but before you can fully catch your breath, he flips you over.

Your palms slam against the your back, the belt still binding them, your cheek pressing into the cool surface as San forces you down, arching you for him.

A sharp sound echoes in the room.

You gasp.

San’s palm stays on your ass where he just spanked you, rubbing over the heated skin, his breath heavy behind you. “Mhm,” he hums, dark, pleased.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“That’s more like it.”

Your body is trembling—wrecked, pinned under San’s weight as he presses you against the desk, his grip firm on your waist. His breath is heavy, hot against your skin, his patience fraying with every second.

And then—

You say it.

A teasing little whisper, breathless, barely a murmur—

“San.. you can go- harder.”

A guttural growl rips from his throat, and then—he ruins you.

His grip tightens bruisingly on your hips as he slams into you, deep and relentless, each thrust sharp, overwhelming, making you choke on your own moans.

He pounds into you, his cock pushing impossibly deep, so deep that— He hits your cervix.

A sharp cry tears from your throat, your bound hands clenching behind you as the intense stimulation sends a wave of pleasurable pain crashing over you.

San hears it. Feels it. Loses it.

“Yeah?” he rasps, voice wrecked, his pace punishing. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He thrusts harder, making you wail. “Wanted me to break you?”

The way he’s holding you—gripping your waist tight, pressing you down deep into the desk, his chest flush against your back as he fucks into you like he’s starving—

It’s too much.

He feels the way you tremble beneath him, the way your body clings to him, drawing him in, taking everything he gives.

His breath is ragged, his groans turning into curses.

“Fucking perfect,” he growls, his thrusts becoming desperate. “So fucking tight, so fucking wet—”

He grips your wrists, still bound behind your back, and pulls, arching you further, making your back bow into him, making you yake him deeper.

A wrecked sob escapes you.

San curses. “That’s it,” he groans, his voice breaking. “Fucking take it.”

He pounds into you, hips snapping, rhythm frenzied, his cock hitting that spot over and over until you’re a mess beneath him—whimpering, crying, begging.

And you could swear he fucking loves it.

“Listen to you,” he pants, his lips brushing over your ear, his breath ragged. “Crying for me—so desperate.”

You are. But he’s no better.

His grip tightens, his thrusts turning frantic, his moans growing shaky, and you can inly feel how damn close he is. And he knows it.

His pace falters for half a second—just long enough for him to lean over you, his lips grazing your ear as he breathes, voice dark, rough, possession dripping from every word—.

“I’ll fill you up just like you’ve probably been fantasizing over for a while, you little slut.”

And then—

He breaks.

A deep, wrecked moan tears from his chest as he thrusts deep, his body shuddering violently as he spills into you, warmth flooding your insides as his grip on your wrists turns almost bruising.

But he doesn’t stop.

Even as he comes, he keeps moving, keeps pounding into you, pushing you over the edge right after him.

Your body shatters.

A high, sobbed moan rips from your throat as pleasure crashes over you, your walls tightening, pulsing around him, drawing out his own orgasm, making him groan, curse, whisper filth and praise against your skin.

You gasp his name—

And San loses himself all over again.

His hips slow, his body shuddering as he rides both of you through your highs, his lips pressing against your shoulder, your spine, soothing you while still wrecking you.

You could barely move.

Your arms are still bound, your body limp against the desk, your breath coming in ragged, exhausted gasps.

San finally stills.

His chest rises and falls against your back, his grip on your wrists loosening, his breath hot against your skin.

And then—

A satisfied, dark chuckle rumbles from his chest.

“That’s my girl.”

San exhales, his grip softening as he slowly lifts you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. His hands are gentle now, his touch the exact opposite of how he just wrecked you. With careful precision, he sets you down on the desk, his fingers immediately moving to untie your wrists.

The moment they’re free, he brings them to his lips, kissing the delicate skin as if to soothe away any marks left behind. His gaze meets yours, still dark, still possessive, but now filled with something softer.

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Can’t have you walking out of here looking like this, baby.”

Before you can respond, he grabs your blouse from where it was discarded, slipping it over your shoulders, his touch slow, careful, reverent. His fingers linger as he buttons it up, his eyes roaming your body like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

Then, he leans in, kissing you.

Deep, slow, lingering. Like he’s still not ready to let go.

When he pulls back, his thumb brushes your lips, his voice a low murmur. “Come on,” he says. “We’re taking a shower.”

Your brows raise slightly. “Here?”

San chuckles, shaking his head. “Not in the office, baby.” He eyes you, his woman, his masterpiece, before smirking. “And I’m sure as hell not letting anyone see you like this on our way there.”

You laugh, amused by his protectiveness, and his smirk widens.

“Laugh all you want,” he muses, scooping you up again. “But you’re mine. And I don’t share.”

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou

[thehighladywrites]

𝖠𝖢𝖮𝖳𝖠𝖱 𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖧𝖢’𝖲

summary: being girly in a world full of haters can be hard sometimes! I mean, people hate all the time. but these males don’t let any disrespect towards you slide. They protect you through and through 👀

warnings: fluff, tw:beron😒

amara’s note: this went from being an azriel fic, to rhys and azriel, to batboys, to batboys+lucien and finally all of them. Honestly idc bc i love all of them🤭🤭

Rhysand

Fashion bf x barbie doll gf

I can’t think of anything more cuter than being his doll.

The man does everything for you,

Picking out materials for dresses, designing them for you, working with a private seamstress to bring his visions to life

He knows you best and always supplies the cutest, girliest outfits ever

This man is so attentive and caring, he doesn’t even have to ask what you want to wear, he just knows. It’s like you share a brain

Rhys absolutely loves it when you ask for his advice on hairstyles and fashion choices. He literally goes into designer mode and fixes you up reaaaal nice

When you guys are in the Hewn City, you don’t care, you still wear your pink girly clothes bc who’s gonna say anything to the high lady?

Sparkly accessories, high heels, pretty makeup and cute hairstyles is your trademark.

Rhys loves that you are super girly, he likes the dynamic of him being dark and mysterious and you being bright and bubbly

He protects you like crazy, no one is even managing to say something insulting to you bc rhys takes care or it before the sentence even forms in their mind

Cassian

brooding bf x sunshine gf

This combo is top tier

At first, Cassian might've thought you were a bit too cheery and too involved in yourself. I mean, who else has a massive stash of fragrances, lotions, sparkly jewels, clothes, tons of bags, and enough shoes to fill a closet?

Also, who in the world is that insanely cheerful? There are a million things to focus on, and you're there pondering over matching shades of pink and which bag to wear for the day.

He tries to keep his distance, but you're so inviting and warm that he just melts and falls head over heels in love.

Cassian also falls in love with how much you care for yourself and how adorable you look every single day.

You notice how you’re always seeing him always in plain, simple athleisure or leather. So, you take matters into your own hands and whisk him away for a shopping spree, upgrading his entire wardrobe. Despite his potential, he's been stuck in a rut of black, plain, and boring clothes, and you're determined to change that.

After just a few weeks of being together, this guy has a full-on skincare routine, knows how to coordinate outfits flawlessly so he looks very put together and handsome

He has even mastered the art of silky-smooth hair thanks to you. You've truly leveled him up in every way.

Everyone can't help but notice how much more refreshed and attractive Cassian looks, and it's making you second-guess your decision to help him level up because now, people are hitting on him even more.

Azriel

Scary bf x shy gf

Top tier combo again

No one really knows how such polar opposites ended up together, but suppose they do say opposites attract.

Azriel is stoic around everyone who isn’t the direct inner circle. He lets loose around his found family but even more so around you

Really, he is super comfortable and funny when you’re alone

Azriel notices how soft spoken and kind hearted you are very early on

He is very attentive and your style is actually first thing he notices

The frilly skirts, cute tops, styled hair, cutesy nails and an aura that screamed femininity

He considers his daggers as accessories while you wear cute headbands and ribbons in your hair

Azriel’s fav activity is watching you get ready for anything, whether it be for bed, an event, in the mornings or date nights

He just adores watching your moves, how much effort you put in, the different techniques you use and how you pamper yourself

Pride fills him when he sees how relaxed and put together you feel and look. There is nothing he likes more than seeing you happy with yourself

I also believe az can be traditional and likes the dynamic of having a girly girl mate, or you being all feminine and sweet while he is more masculine and protective

Bro let’s actually talk about protection

No one, I mean absolutely no one, insults you and gets away with it. No matter how snarky the comment, Azriel deals with it.

You’re not as confrontational as him and often hide behind his wings and that makes him even more protective if possible

You always calm him down when someone says something, and he listens to you. If you don't want him to deal with it then and there, he won't ever confront someone in front of you.

Azriel just handles it later, putting fear into people for even daring to approach you.

He wouldn’t do anything remotely scary or frightening in fromt of you. Azriel keeps his work and personal life separate, especially from you

Az couldn’t dream of accidentally putting you in danger, so he never, EVER drags you into his work

You’re not stupid, you know the toll his work takes on him so you are there for him without being too involved, you know how to cheer him up from whatever he is doing behind closed doors

Eris

Arrogant bf x dark feminine gf

Power couple through and through

Eris is canonically extremely well dressed and that makes this dynamic so special

Eris adores splurging on his seamstresses to create matching outfits for both of you.

Best dressed couple in Prythian, hands down

You two are fashion icons, inspiring countless people. People look up to you as their inspiration. Established luxury brands pay you handsomely to flaunt their designs at balls, where all eyes are on you.

Speaking of matching, y’all have matching smirks and cunning mind, and since you’re mates, you have a way of communicating and plotting without anyone knowing

Before, while B*ron🤢 was alive, Eris was ridiculed for having soft hands, clean nails, and good hygiene, which always disgusted him. Why was being clean looked down upon? It disgusted him, knowing that people purposely rather be dirty than clean

Everything got better when you came around and his father passed away. Finally, he had someone who didn't judge him, someone who actually encouraged him to look his best.

You often sit in his lap, plucking his eyebrows as he wears a face mask, his hair pushed back by a cute alien headband.

You often also get manicures, and at first, Eris was like, "This is where I draw the line." But when you suggested just a clear coat and cleaning the nails, he went along with it.

No one knows though. That's the only compromise; I mean, he's still the High Lord, and people can't know he gets manicures. He'd be ridiculed for some stupid macho reason.

Anyways, when it comes to protecting you, no one does it better than him. Not only will he destroy the person with his words but he will blackmail and psychologically torture them. It might seem mean but that’s the price of people not properly respecting their High Lady

Lucien

calm bf x hyper and outspoken gf

you are an absolute sweetheart, there is no one that hates you in the slightest.

In this scenario, I think you're known for rescuing stray animals. It's not like collecting Pokémon cards; instead, you're the person who steps up when there's a stray kitten in need of care.

You definitely live in a cute cottage in the woods with him, not worrying about anything with him there

Your house is an explosion of adorable decor, with pink accents everywhere you look. It's filled with super cute and girly decorations in every corner.

When you start dating Lucien, he notices how hyper you are and how you juggle multiple tasks at once.

Lucien is like your calming anchor, keeping your energy balanced and the vibes serene.

One of your biggest hyperfixations is clothes. Whether it's dresses, coats, pants, shoes, fabrics, or makeup, anything feminine is right up your alley.

And Lucien makes sure you don't overexert yourself, always looking out for your well-being.

Since you're so hyper, you're sometimes loud in certain moments. It really hurts when people tell you to shut up and calm down.

lucien doesn’t let it slide tho

This man defends you however he deems necessary, whether it's with his words or hands.

Just know, he always has your back, no matter what.

No one is suffocating your light and energy if he has anything to do with it.

[sukuna-ryo]

Jjk Men College Au

Headcannons

Nanami Kento

Finance Major

Blonde neatly styled hair, sharp cheekbones, thin lips, light brown eyes, glasses pushed up the nose bridge, dark circles, well-groomed and tidy, looks more professional than the professor, you thought he was a professor when you first saw him, calm and composed, stoic, mature, responsible and reliable, emotionally intelligent, good with people, helpful, no-nonsense-adult attitude, pragmatic, cynical, intelligent, tactical, tech-savvy.

Early morning lectures, blue dress shirts, khaki trousers, leopard print ties, networking, finance club, seminars, workshops, turns in assignments before due date, stockbroker internships, libraries, desk lamps, late night study sessions, midnight snacks, ink pens, vintage cars, leather seats, cracking knuckles, strained shoulder muscles, working out, not compromising on physical health despite having a demanding major, does jujutsu as hobby.

College-personal life balance, strength of character, disciplined, organized, heartthrob (unaware), husband material, would probably fall for someone just as diligent as him.

Ryomen Sukuna

Kinesiology Major

Red hair, fiery personality, strength, endurance, gym, MMA fighter, training, late night MMA matches, muscles, tattoos, tattoo artist best friend, frat parties, alcohol, girls, messy sex life, doesn’t do relationships, toxic, fans and fan clubs, future MMA champion, media coverage, athletic, strong-headed, willpower, intelligent, calculative, cunning, missing lectures, top ranker despite not studying much, arrogant, crazy, borderline criminal, don’t try to date him pls.

Leather jackets, ripped jeans, cologne, smirk, loud, reckless, always on the move, fights, wins, clubs, stays up late, doesn’t care, bad boy persona, high status, no commitments, love for chaos. Tension in the air when he enters, always the center of attention, fans everywhere, no time for weakness, doesn’t need to try.

Tattoo sleeve, arms covered, history of fights, scars, reputation, strength, untouchable, doesn’t play by rules, barely attends class, still aces it. Smirks, keeps moving, doesn’t stop. Drinks, casual, no relationships, cold heart. Only more battles ahead, all eyes on him, unpredictable, dangerous, charming.

Geto Suguru

Philosophy Major

Long black hair, weird side bangs, manbun, hidden tattoos, sharp dresser, classic casual but always expensive, calm and composed, mysterious yet friendly to those who matter.

Religious studies, top student, always reading something deep, debates with professors over lunch, having lunch with professors, doing pottery in his free time, sharp opinions, loud thoughts, a little racist, has a vision for an ideal society, probably loves Pythagoras and his cult, wishes to have something similar, always scribbling down ideas in random places, likes to keep things classy but low-key, sharp, calculating, deeply invested in his beliefs.

Volunteers at orphanages, good with children, art hobbies, loves to talk about philosophy, sometimes found debating late at night in the library, always in deep thought, a bit of a perfectionist, not easily impressed by others, enjoys challenging people intellectually, likes to put effort into his appearance, always carrying books on ethics, metaphysics, and society.

Popular amongst women, Gojo’s best friend, your grandma would probably like him, friendly but keeps a bit of distance, doesn’t open up easily but will be there for you when needed, composed around strangers, warm to those he’s close to, respects loyalty, his ideal partner would be someone with similar intelligence and values.

Gojo Satoru

Business major

6'4, blue eyes, trust fund guy, loud, jolly, eccentric, talented, arrogant, sarcastic, wants to make friends but misunderstood by those around him, comes off as off-putting, rich family, only heir, prodigy, diamond spoon kid, first in everything, Geto's best friend.

Gets bullied because of his white hair, shades, blindfolds, people think he has some weird kink, has fangirls regardless, popular loner, sharp dresser, stands out, hates attention, smirk always in place, makes people uncomfortable with his confidence, carefree but secretly lonely, sharp-tongued, cracks jokes all the time.

Easily gets on people's bad side, works to keep up his image, loves challenging authority, doesn't care about consequences, fiercely protective of his friends, holds grudges, always first to show up, leaves last, high-profile business role in his future, a bit of mystery that draws people in, keeps everyone at arm's length.

Wants to be understood, still pushes people away, walks into a room and demands attention, but doesn’t say a word, people notice him immediately, no one dares challenge him, but it’s not for lack of trying, takes classes seriously, skips boring ones, coffee in hand, shades indoors, professors secretly like him, students admire or fear him.

Doesn’t attend study groups, pulls through with perfect grades, natural intelligence, picks up info quickly, a bit of a mystery, high-profile events, networking, parties, center of attention at social gatherings, random comments that leave people laughing or wondering, doesn’t care about others, secretly craves connection but too prideful to ask for it.

---

Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.

Likes, reblogs, and feedback is appreciated <3

[kxxkiecxre]

・❥・ Trapped Hearts || Jeon Jungkook ・❥・

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: Jungkook is a good guy, you know that… he’s just stuck on you and won’t leave you alone. Maybe you should be concerned, maybe even run. Deep down however, you know you love this.

WARNINGS: 18+, stalker au, stalker!jk, stalker descriptions.

Part two: a life that’s so carefree

It’s been weeks, months even, since you broke you with him. Yet he still feels so close to you. So personal. It’s haunting the way you can feel his soft touch lingering on your skin as if he’s still around you. Maybe he is? You’ve been suspicious of this for awhile, every time you walk anywhere you feel him around. Or more like someone’s watching you. Every step you take, even in the comfort of your own home.

It’s gotten to a point where you slept with all your windows closed, blinds too. You loved having the window cracked open during the night for fresh air, but ever since you broke up with Jungkook you’ve had this eerie feeling of being watched. Your friends told you multiple times it wouldn’t be surprising if someone did stalk you, just because a lot of the men you were with before would become overly obsessed. You weren’t sure what it was that made them insane when you’d break up with them, but then again, men are truly just creatures of habit. Weak, shy and frail despite their stereotype or image. They’re emotional. Like little puppies who need constant care.

You walked home alone, the night dark and silent as you walked the familiar path towards your apartment complex. Large fluffy trees surrounding you either side of the pathway. The grass around you was wet and freshly cut, providing that that comforting smell. The street lights hued your figure in an orange cast, your features extenuated under the shade of deep amber. You looked behind your shoulder, that unsettling feeling of being watched present once again.

Your hair got caught in your reflective lipgloss, your red manicured fingers brushing them off your face. Your brows furrowed before you quickly turned to face the road ahead of you again. You wore a much simpler outfit tonight, black fishnet tights, studded with little crystals that could never outshine the sparkle In your eyes, your dress was a deep burgundy color, it looked like the velvet dress he bought you. The valley of your breasts lightly covered with the black lace hem. Your body was covered with a black leather bomber jacket, hair flowing effortlessly over your body.

You looked beautiful as always and it made him throw his head softly against the tree. Sighing to himself. Has he gone insane? He’s never been like this over anyone but you. Watching your every move, making sure you’re safe. You’re okay. It was freaky. He was freaky. It wasn’t cute, to be this obsessed with you. He was drooling just at the distant sight of you. God he was pathetic.

When you got within safe distance for him to follow you again, he wasted no time to catch up with you. He was dressed in his washed out baggy jeans, blue hoodie covering his face and posture perfectly. He still kept a good distance away from you. Still, seeing a man walking in dark clothing behind a woman who’s vulnerable, it spooked you. You walked faster, as fast as your legs could take you in your black heels. Out of instinct sharing your location with not only your friend Laura, but with Jungkook too, you knew he’d protect you if it came to it.

You: someone’s following me, a man. Call me in ten minutes. If I don’t answer after the third ring, call the police.

SEEN

Jungkook: got you b

You continue walking as fast as you could, practically breaking your ankles as you ran up the stairs of your porch. You locked the doors behind you, quickly running around the house to close all the blinds. You sat on your bed now, head in your hands. You’re too paranoid. The ringing of your phone is what makes you jump. Jungkook.

You answer the phone, his voice was low like he was whispering, “hello?”

“Hi”

“Are you okay? Did the creep stop following you?” He asks, standing directly across your bedroom window. Leaned up against the far wall, one foot up against it behind him, his hoodie still covering up most of his face as he held the phone to his ear. Eyes never leaving the silhouette of your figure pacing your room behind the blinds.

“Yeah,” you sounded panicked, “I mean I didn’t look back I just went home straight.”

Fuck, he’s such a prick.

She sat across you brows furrowed and eyes concerned, “did you report it to the police?”.

“Come on now Yuna, you know well the police don’t give a shit unless I know who the person is or have evidence.”

She nodded, stirring her cappuccino as you held your own between your palms, “so what are you going to do?”.

Your eyes frantically scanned the room, full of anxiety, “I’ll share my location with you and Laura and Jk, at all times.”

He stood leaned up against the black marbled wall holding up the tall building, away from your vision still he could see you perfectly. You were inside your favourite little cafe, with Yuna of course. You talked fast, your eyes skittish as they danced around the room every few seconds, probably spooked from last night. He watched as you raised the white mug to your lips, your tongue darting out to lick the foam of your lips.

He watched you with pride, with so much love even though what he was doing right now was far beyond creepy and disgusting.

Yuna decided to walk you back to your workplace, “you need to invest in a car y/n, if worst comes to worst, you can run the creep over.”

“If only I could afford one” you chuckled lightly.

You threw yourself into work immediately upon coming to your cubicle, spending hours calculating numbers and statistics, percentages and such that one major company may need. It was exhausting, but it also stopped your brain from overthinking. Stopped you from thinking about your potential stalker, whoever it may be.

If only you could see him, know who it is. You’d kill him with your bare hands. That’s a lie, but you’d still like to believe you’d fight against the creep. Your manic working was interrupted by your co-worker tapping you on the shoulder,

“I’m sorry, there’s some guy waiting for you outside? More like demanding to speak with you.”

You frowned, a guy? The only guy you know is Jungkook. A bit afraid it might be your stalker waiting for you, to kidnap or maybe even kill you or something.

You turned to your co worker, “tae? Would you mind going down with me?”

Taehyung doesn’t question, he simply nods with sincere eyes.

The walk down to the bottom floor had your stomach doing flips, nerves running rampant as if you were willingly walking into a trap. Your heart settles down a little when you see Jungkook, leaning against a shiny white Mercedes. A new car?

“Kook? What you doing here?” You asked, voice still so sweet and soft.

“I came to bring you your new weapon.”

He holds the keys in the air, your eyes close to popping out of their sockets. You meant well when you told Jungkook you’d remain only friendly with him after the breakup, but this man must not know what friendly is.

“Thought you’d benefit better from it, if worst comes to worst you can run the creep over.”

The sentence he says is exactly, word for word, like Yunas from earlier today. It sends a little shiver down your spine but you ignore it and smile at him, “kook-“

“Shut up and take it Y/N, I owe it to you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“Clearly I must have done something wrong to lose a woman like you..”

“Jungkook, I broke up with you because of personal reasons. Nothing to do with you.” A lie… it was everything to do with him. His mother to be precise.

He was loaded. So were his parents and you were just a middle class girl living in your mums old home working a job that pays well.. at least for interns. Still it didn’t sit right with his mother, she kept accusing you of leeching off of him. Which was now where near the truth.

“I won’t leave until you take the keys Y/N.”

Shaking your head you take the keys, “I’m only borrowing it.”

“Sure” he laughs.

You came home early once again, only this time all the lights are on in your house. What the fuck? With a fastening heart rate you press the accelerator down, going thrice the speed limit but you couldn’t care. Not when you were two seconds away from breaking down. Doing a loop around your village you finally end up at your destination.

You knock wildly on the door, tears forming in your eyes, the door doesn’t open. No one answers, he must be asleep. The rain starts lashing, soaking the cotton dress on you printed with little lilacs. Your hair drenched in the rain. You pull the top of the vase of the little flower off, finding the key to his fancy apartment. You waste no time entering his home without his permission. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind anyway.

The place is dark, not a single light on. You turned the hallway lights on, “Jungkook? It’s me Y/N”.

You run around the apartment, turning on every light on your way. Nothing. Finally, you enter his room. You turn the light on, nobody’s there once again. You take a look at the room, it was messy, some type of pictures laying scattered all over the floor. You bend down, sniffling they’re just selfies of him. You smiled softly at the picture of him with his head against a tree in the dark of night “weirdo”.

You sniffled again, you’re definitely getting sick. You raised yourself back onto your feet. Walking around his room and cleaning up the scattered papers and pictures until you find his opened laptop. Your breath hitches, eyes widening and jaw slacking as you scroll through the pictures. It was you. The pictures of all the times you felt you were being watched, you in front of your mirror in your room, you walking through the little park on the night you texted him about someone following you. You were looking behind your shoulder. You in the cafe. You in your work place. You, you, you. Every picture was you. As you closed the tab, his wallpaper was you in the pub dancing. That same night he was following you through the park.

You felt sick the more you looked through his stuff. The selfies, they were all of him taking pictures of himself outside of the places you were. What the fuck. You were going to get sick, holy shit. You rushed out of his apartment, dizzy and nauseated. Holy fuck.

As you run down the stairs he walks up around the corner, your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N?”

You got stuck, you mumbled something incoherent before you finally spat it out, “I was just gonna come up but nobody was answering the door.”

“Sorry I was out with Jin, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I have to go though, Yuna got drunk again so I have to pick her up.” You chuckled nervously.

“Okay… stay safe? Call me when you’re home.”

“Yeah absolutely.” You smile quickly at him before you rushed back to the car.

The car he gave you … incase of the creep. The more you struggled to breathe the more you became nauseated. Quickly, you pulled out of his driveway. Heading straight back to your place.

The first thing you do after locking your door was throwing up in your toilet. Your breathing was harsh as you slid down the wall of your bathroom. He was right there, all along. He was the one who was your stalker. Right under your nose. It made you feel another wave of nausea. Trying your hardest to not breakdown.

Why would he do that though? Why would he make you so scared, so anxious about going out living your day to day life became a nightmare. Because of him. Fucking hell.

You took a couple deep breathes before you got back up. Pulling your hair into a ponytail, you stripped yourself off of your soaked dress. Slipping on your leggings and sweatshirt. You were about to press the call button, to ring Yuna. Until a series of knocks echoed through your house. A shiver ran down your body, that dreadful nauseating feeling taking over your body once again.

You entered your living room, watching the door as he continued knocking.

“Baby, cmon, let me in.” He called out in his innocent voice.

“It’s not at all what it looks like, I promise.”

The thunder rolled right after his sentence, lighting up your rather dark living room in a shade of blue.

What do you do now?

A/N: hope yall enjoyed this little Drabble :).

I DO NOT ALLOW ANY TRANSLATION OR COPYING OF MY WORK.

masterlist

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 15

This was really popular last WIP Wednesday so it got down before the others did. So tada! The meeting with Vickie!

If you guys aren't getting notifications for my works, could you let me in know in the comments? Because I've been seeing it's been hit or miss lately, thanks!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

~

Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he walked into Eddie’s mansion. Both bands were meeting with their shiny new agent, Vickie Cameron. But whatever it wasn’t the woman sitting on Eddie’s big, black leather couch.

She had a stylish, curly, red bob that framed her angular face. Her bright green eyes were knowing and mischievous. Her clothes veered toward Bohemian in darker shades. Her smile was calm and welcoming.

Steve could feel the tension bleed out his shoulders as he sat down between Simon and Spence.

“You must be Abbadon,” she greeted warmly. “I’m Vickie Cameron, I understand that I called in the nick of time?”

Eddie who had come in behind him, smiled at her. “That’s right. She kept trying to shift blame on Abby here. Bob was awesome, though!”

Vickie looked to Chrissy and Robin in askance.

“The Fallen’s producer,” Robin explained. “He was there to prevent liability.”

Vickie nodded and then clasped her hands together. “I understand that not all of Corroded Coffin is here today?”

Jeff shook his head. “Gareth Hughes is currently in a ninety day program.”

“Eddie had to get special permission to talk to him about changing agents in the first place,” Brian explained. “It’s in our contract that all of us have to sign off on major changes.” He glanced sideways at Eddie and then Jeff before hanging his head.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to Shane, crossing his legs like the bassist. “But he was onboard one hundred percent.”

“That’s good,” she said with a smile. “I’m assuming it was that lovely little clause that prevented him from being replaced on tour?”

Steve looked around at the Corroded Coffin members as tension filled the air. Jeff and Eddie were radiating anger while Brian seemed to shrink in shame.

“I didn’t think it was fair that he would get replaced like he didn’t mean anything to us,” Brian hotly defended.

Jeff’s lip curled. “Dude, Gareth voted for us replacing him! He knew had made a promise and broke it. If we don’t punish him somehow, someway, he’s going to keep doing it!”

Brian’s chin began to wobble and he let out a shuddered breath. “I know. It was stupid. But it’s too late now. Let’s just focus on what we’re here for. Please!”

Steve shared looks with his band before they all agreed to just move on. But Steve made sure to make a mental note to talk to Eddie about it, because it was clear Eddie was really upset by the move even after a few weeks.

“Since you’re planning on touring together,” Vickie said, sitting up straight, “that makes the contacting for venues easy. Getting suites for two big bands might prove a little tricky at the moment as I don’t have the clout yet.”

“That’s fine,” Shane said from his perch on the floor. “We like to bunk all together if we can. It makes harder for people to try and pap us if there’s almost always someone there in the room.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed. “Will Jim Hopper be coming with you to function as your head of security?”

Robin nodded. “He’ll be the only one with knowledge of their real identities. His daughter will also be joining us as costumes director, but she has only dealt with their alter egos.”

Vickie nodded back. “That’s perfect. I’ll be just handling contracts and the legal eagle side of things, which is the main reason I need to know their real identities so no one can forge anything claiming to be a member of the band.”

Everyone nodded or murmured their agreements.

She looked at Eddie. “I know this your home, but would it be all right if I spoke to The Fallen alone?”

Eddie nodded and hopped to his feet. “Come on, Jeffy and Bri-Bri, let’s go raid my liquor cabinet.”

The other two men were to their feet in seconds and followed their lead singer out the door like ducklings in a row.

Vickie smiled after them. “They’re going to be fun. I can tell.” She turned back to The Fallen members. “Do you feel safe enough to remove your masks so that I can meet you properly?”

Steve and the other members looked around at each other before Shane took off his mask first. Then Steve and Spence together. Simon was the only that remained with his mask still on. Steve leaned over and whispered in his ear and rubbed his back encouragingly. After a moment or two Simon removed his mask too.

“It’s hard trusting someone new,” Vickie said with a reassuring smile. “Especially after harrowing experience that Abbadon went through earlier today. Giving that much power to any ex is hard, but if half of what Celeste says is true, she’s the last person in your lives that should have any kind of access to your secrets. So no judgments, okay? If you don’t feel comfortable being unmasked around me, that’s fine. I hope I’ll earn your trust in the future.”

Immediately Simon put his back on. Spence and Shane shared a glance before Spence put his back on, too. Only Shane and Steve left theirs off.

Vickie didn’t comment, only nodded her approval. “I had somethings to go over with you all so we can all get on the same page.”

“Why aren’t you calling us by our real names?” Simon asked, leaning into Steve’s side.

“Are any of the Corroded Coffin boys in on the secret?” Vickie asked, leaning forwards on her knees and clasping her hands together.

They all shared concerned glances, before Robin spoke up.

“Eddie is,” she said carefully, her shoulders squared against the tension in the room. “He guessed though, he wasn’t told.”

“But Jeff Laurence and Brian Martin aren’t read in?” Vickie pressed.

They all shook their heads.

“Then that would be why I’m not calling you by your real names,” she said clearly, sitting up straight. “There is a chance they might overhear a name or two and put it together who you are.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and his lip quivered. “Nancy–she almost called me by my real name right in front of our producer. She almost outed me without a single thought or care. I–I’d never been more frightened in my life when she nearly slipped up. She had been so mad at me and I just wanted to get out of there, but I forced myself to stay there and listen to her.”

Vickie stood up and knelt in front of him, taking one of his hands as his friends offered their verbal support.

“I hate how much power she had in that conversation,” she murmured. “Agents like managers and PR firms are tools to help you navigate a job which constantly changing. That goes for actors, artists, athletes, comedians, and musicians of all walks of life. They should be supporting you, not making you miserable.”

She stood up. “And that goes for everyone, Corroded Coffin included. This is meant to be a partnership and it’s my job to sure it all goes as smoothly as possible.”

Simon removed his mask and looked her in the eye. “If you’ve got Abbadon’s back, you’ve got my vote of confidence.”

Everyone but Vickie turned to him, impressed. Simon was their Cowardly Lion. He was afraid of his own shadow outside of their personas on stage. It was only under the bright lights of the stage and behind his red mask that he truly came alive.

This was a big deal for Simon and his bandmates and Robin were proud as hell for him.

“So what did you need to go over with us?” Shane asked from his perch on the floor.

Vickie cracked her knuckles with a grin. “What I understand is that because your personal and professional lives are separate you need a little help fend off the trolls and influencers, is that right?”

“Aren’t they one and the same?” Spence asked with a snort. His mask was still on despite Simon’s bravery, he wasn’t ready to take that step yet.

“Only in the way that jackals and coyotes are both dogs I guess,” Vickie replied. “They act similar but have different motives for why they’re doing it. But I’m here to handle that.”

“I’m sorry to make you take on PR duties as well,” Robin said ringing her hands together. “But the more people who know the worse it’s going to be to keep a lid on everything.”

Vickie shook her head. “This is a good thing. Because I don’t have a lot of clients to juggle, I can do the PR for you guys. Simpler is always best.” She looked around the room. “I also understand that one of you is in a high profile relationship?”

Steve raised his hand. “Ish. Eddie and Steve are dating but it’s not public and with Eddie’s past history of sleeping with anything that moved, he can’t be seen with a roadie or the tabloids will explode.”

Vickie tapped her lip thoughtfully. “That is a conundrum to be sure. I’ll put together some plans and meet with Eddie and ‘Steve’ later in the week.” She put air quotes around his name. “Now, here are the other things we need to go over.”

Talk turned to the other things on her agenda and by the time it was over with all four members of the band were maskless, and eager to take her on.

~

Vickie, Robin, Chrissy were all sitting in Vickie’s office, popping the cork of a bottle of champagne to share between them. Chrissy poured the bubbling liquid into the three glasses and handed one to each of Robin and Vickie.

“Here’s to the three baddest bitches!” Robin said, raising her glass.

“Hell yeah!” Vickie crowed.

“Damn right!” Chrissy said, as they all clinked their glasses together.

They all drank and Vickie smirked around her glass. “So the industry is abuzz with news about Nancy Wheeler and Corroded Coffin pulling out of her firm.”

Robin and Chrissy leaned in close, clutching their glasses of champagne.

“Ooh,” Chrissy cooed. “Do tell.”

Vickie took another drink of her champagne and let them sit in it for a moment. “Apparently word is out that Corroded Coffin had vouched for her to The Fallen and when she was rude and dismissive of their unique requirements, Corroded Coffin decided that she wasn’t for them. And now huge acts are pulling out too in solidarity to The Fallen.”

Chrissy winced, but Robin nodded sagely.

“She sounded so sincere when I spoke to her,” she said, shaking her head sadly, “but my boys picked up on her hostility right away. All she had to do was put the past behind her, the way Abbadon seemed to, but she let her prejudices blind her and it led her to this.”

Vickie pursed her lips together. “I can see how some heavy hitters might like the bulldog approach that she took to her work, but not everyone has that tough of a skin. And while some part of me feels sorry for her, she absolutely dug her own grave.”

“Eddie was telling me some of the things she said to Abbadon,” Chrissy said, twisting the glass her hands. “It sounded like to me that she wanted him to absolve her of all her wrong doing without owning up to it in any way.”

Robin nodded. “That’s what Bob said, too. There was no apology and it didn’t sound like she ever intended to give one. So cheers to Vickie Carmichael, who sent the dragon running back to her lair!”

“Cheers!” Chrissy agreed to Vickie’s flush of pride.

“Thank you, ladies,” she said demurely. “I’m grateful for the opportunity to work with your boys. They all seem like good people. And yes that includes Gareth. I was able to meet with him without the other boys around and while he has some real problems to deal with, he’s a good person at heart who was led away by the high alcohol promised him.”

Chrissy nodded. “I wish Brian had let Gareth heal while they went on tour. I think it would have shaken something loose to see his friends perform without him.”

“To new beginnings!” Robin said, raising her glass.

“To new partnerships!” Vickie agreed, raising her own glass.

“To friends old and new!” Chrissy said.

They clanked glasses and drank deeply to their new future.

~

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop

[cherry-pop-elf]

Farmers Market

Bill Weasley x Reader

((Can be read as platonic because there needs to be more platonic fics :>))

Summary: You wanted to go to your local farmers market. Get some fresh foods, see interesting things, just have a nice day. That’s when you see a new stand pop up. How could you resist? Not every day you see a gaggle of red heads

You just LOVED visiting the farmers market. Once a week, you would visit. Given it was in such a close walking distance, it made life easier. Fresh food for good prices. How could anyone refuse such a thing? A favorite routine to enjoy.

With your basket on your arm, and outfit dusted off, you were off to the little slice of heaven. Just walking down the street. Giving a wave hello to your neighbors, and having pep. Was always so nice to just get some fresh air. Was a perfect day. Just the right amount of sun, and just enough breeze to keep the heat low. You just adored it.

When you arrived you visited your favorite farmers. Saying hi to them, and picking out your favorites. With how often you visited, they always made sure to set aside the best for you. Supporting local farmers is the best, and it’s appreciated after all.

As you did your routine, you noticed a new stand. The little pop up was quite eye catching. Bright colors that catch attention easy. Said bright colors being brilliant red hair on each person there. You had never seen hair of such a shade like that, unless dye counts. Can’t be dye, since the smallest of the children had that same wild shade. Had you invested quickly, and you were soon walking over.

“Well hey there-!” You assumed the oldest said, as he was having a little girl on his hip. Cute little pig tails, and snuggling her tightly. Protective of him, and clearly defensive of anyone who got too close. Must be the youngest, and the baby girl.

“Hey. I haven’t seen this little stand before. You knew here?” You asked, as you looked around. It just had so many things. Hand made paper, soaps, fruits and veggies, meats, and many different types of hand made things. Plenty being sweets.

“Yep. Names Bill. Bill Weasley. That guy over there is Charlie, that guy with the book is Percy, those two trouble makers are Fred and George, the one talking to mum is Ron, and this little girl is Ginny. Yeah uh. Mum has a lot of kids.” He chuckled, as the baby sister kept playing with his ponytail. Had you giggle, as she yanked on it. Making him squeak, and her giggle.

“What can we do ya for?” He asked, as he tickled his baby sister’s tummy. Made her squeal in delight, as she kicked her little bare feet. You adored how sweet he was to the little girl. So full of love.

“I was actually interested in those tins. With the sweets-“ You asked. That seemed to catch the twins attention, and they weee quick to be side by side with their eldest brother. Big, proud, smiles on their freckled cheeks.

“Those sweets were hand made by these two. Don’t worry, I made sure none of them will turn you into a newt.” He teases, as the twins have a pout. Regardless, they were quick to pick the tins up. Excited to share.

“This one tastes like grape! Grapes my favorite-!” “And this one tastes like oranges! Oranges are MY favorite-!” The twins would echo each other, as they explained what those candy’s were. The hard candy, the chewy kind, just such confidence.

“Percy is the one to make the hand made paper. He’s pretty proud of that. Ron and Ginny help with the soaps. That leather-? Me and Charlie. Charlie and I would hunt for a bit, and turn the leftovers into soaps and leather. No waste in this family.” Bill would explain, as he would hand Ginny off to Charlie. She gave a huff, but that second sibling was quick to entertain her.

“You are all quite talented. It’s admirable.” You would admit, as you were in awe that people so young were able to create candy. GOOD candy no less, as you were offered a sample. It was like heaven. You couldn’t compare it to any other candy you’ve had before. It was beyond words.

“We all have a talent for something in this family.” Bill would shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal. You thought it was. You found your new favorite table now. You just had to. These kids deserved to know their hard work wasn’t for nothing.

“I’ll have this, and that, and that-“ You would pick out. Sure it was going to be a bit pricey, but this was your spending money for a reason. Besides, it went to a clearly well deserving family. The way those twins were beaming was just to much to handle.

“MUM MUM-! WE SOLD OUR CANDY-!” They were cheering, as Bill would chuckle. Hardly could count the change, as the twins were jumping for joy to their mother. The woman giving them a tired, but proud, smile.

“Means more than you know. Mum is uh….Complicated about the twins wanting to grow up to be inventors. Like I get it, but exactly a job that can be successful.” Bill would whisper to you, as he would place the items in your bag. You gave a nod, as you watched them bounce in pure joy. So proud, and happy. They deserved the support.

“Will you be here next week?” You asked, as he smirked. With a nod. “Yeah, for sure.” He winked, as you chuckled at the banter you shared.

“Hypothetically-“ “That’s a really bug word-“ “Yeah. Anyway, what would happen to be your favorite flavor?” The twins would ask you, with those big doe eyes. How could you resist? You told them, and they were quick to huddle to a corner to brain storm.

“Be careful. If they like you too much, you’ll be pranked to hell and back.” He warned you, as you brushed it off. What’s the worse they could do?

“Can’t wait to see you again. Those two are going to never shut up about you now. Their ‘first customer ever-!’ They’ll cheer.” He was sounding more proud than the twins were. You admired that greatly. He clearly wanted the twins to succeed at their dreams. Made your heart warm.

“See you soon-!” Ginny would wave, as Charlie would mimic her tiny wave. You would return the gesture, before taking your leave. Still able to hear those twins cheering and bragging to their siblings.

When you finally returned home, and unloaded your things, you noticed something odd with your items. Made you think.

For starters, you swore the candy you had bought had changed color. Somehow brighter than it originally was. The paper you got as well was off. You swore the black specks on it were moving. Made you worry they were bugs, but you touched it to feel nothing. Another odd trait was there was a little note.

“Come to Ottery St. Catchpole sometime. You can’t miss us. Hope to see you sometime. William.”

Suppose you made a bigger impression than you thought. Had you giggling with excitement, that you completely missed the fact that a runt of a gnome had climbed out of your still packed bag. Quick to make itself cozy in your backyard.

Guess that’s what you get for talking to strangers.

[orchid-and-bone]

"I'm Yours" ||

Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader

Rating: None

Length: 1.3k words

Asked by @yyiikes IN LOVE WITH THIS SO MUCH ?? we need another part when he finally says it back

Part 2 of "Here With Me"

Oh, I can absolutely do that for you! I adore this man so much and he's been occupying my mind a lot, so I'm glad to have you guys enjoy my writing! I'd love to do more!

*

‘It's been a few weeks. A few weeks of my silence and their patience. I don't know what else I could possibly say to them that I already haven't written or thought here, it's… it's obvious, ain't it?’

*

Arthur stared up from his leather journal as he leaned further back against the tree in camp, the cover of the shade made it easy to stare at you across the camp as you did your usual chores, completely unaware of the set of eyes on you. The brim of his hat offered that extra layer of protection from being caught, but even if he were caught, would he even deny it?  No, he wouldn't, and he just chuckled at himself at how obvious it had been to probably everyone, excluding himself until recently.

Yes, he truly did have feelings for you, whether he cared to address them or not. He would have just chalked it up to loyalty to those in the gang, but you were a different case altogether. When he was faced with you being injured, it struck a nerve with him, and the urge to protect you outweighed anything that required any sense of logic, his instincts just took over, and that wasn’t just caring for a fellow gang member, there was something more in the depths of his gut. Arthur’s eyes flickered back down to the page and there you were, sketched carefully across the page like you were a carved statue. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d focused on such little details of you face, how he paid that much attention to those small things that made your face so…you.

He’d been thinking of you so often now, his mind full with so many ways to get you alone to have a talk, but no matter what he did, there was always someone wanting his attention, a day’s work was never finished. Today, it was a day of peace, or at least he’d hoped it would be, it was early and there were people who were barely awake. Arthur had let out a sigh and slipped the journal back into his satchel, then pushed himself from the ground and got to his feet. Instead of making his way straight to you, he went to pour himself a cup of coffee to calm his nerves, the warmth of it in his hand made him focus when he couldn’t. 

You’d been petting the horses after feeding them, and his eyes barely wavered from you for more than a moment, the intensity would have worried onlookers if it weren’t the people he’d known for years, but they knew how Arthur was. ‘He keeps his walls up’, ‘he’s not much of a talker’, all those things that were said about him weren’t necessarily a lie, but there was more to it than that. He did feel, he felt more than he let on because things of that nature were much more complicated. The one person in camp that he felt he could really talk to,besides yourself, was Charles, and even he had given him the best advice he could. 

“Talk to them,” he said bluntly. “Don’t be ashamed to tell them, they obviously put enough trust in you to confess. So, even if you don’t feel the same, it’s best to tell them exactly what you feel.”

Charles was always smart, incredibly intuitive, and Arthur was always the second guesser, but overall, his friend was right. He had been so wrapped up in thinking that he didn’t notice you going for your own cup of coffee right beside him. Arthur stood beside the fire and stared out at the water, the trees along the horizon brought him comfort in serene moments like this, but as if his body was reacting, he turned to see you staring up at him.

“You okay there?” You asked, a small smile on your lips as you brought the cup up, taking a small sip. 

Arthur cleared his throat and nodded as he brought his own cup to his lips, his eyes darted from you to the water again. “Been thinkin’ is all,” he said gruffly. 

You nodded in reply and hummed. “Yeah, I felt bad bothering you, but I wanted to be sure.” You had wanted to reach out to him to offer your support, or any comfort he might take solace in, but you decided against it. 

What you were greeted with though was Arthur beckoning you toward the large rock that sat by the shoreline. You would follow him, of course, and looked around curiously as he motioned for you to sit on the rock. As much as you wanted to question him, you kept your mouth shut and waited, patience was a virtue with this man. He then removed the journal from his bag and flipped more than halfway through until he stopped on a page, and then handed it to you with little to no hesitation while you balanced your coffee in one hand with the journal in the other. 

As you were about to ask, your eyes caught the drawing on the left, it was you, and it was sketched so beautifully that you were at a loss for words as you stared at it for a while. Arthur cleared his throat after a moment and chuckled as he tapped the other side of the journal, which was filled with words written in neat writing. You’d never seen his journal before, so all of this was a lot to process, the fact he trusted you with it in the first place showed how important you’d been.

Wordlessly, he stood there as you read the page. 

‘It's been a few weeks. A few weeks of my silence and their patience. I don't know what else I could possibly say to them that I already haven't written or thought here, it's… it's obvious, ain't it? Of course I love them, I have for a while now and it scared me. I’ve loved in my lifetime and yet, whenever I had, something bad always followed, like a curse upon my heart. But if there’s one thing I’d been told that really stuck with me, it was to take a gamble on love. It’s ridiculous to be afraid of something so natural and yet it’s been the hardest thing to admit. But I admit it, I love them. And I ain’t gonna regret it, not this time.’

When you finished, you stared up at the gunslinger with large eyes, you were struck with disbelief, dazed at the fact that this man was so articulate with how he felt and how he saw you… Your eyes went back to the pages and you stared for a long while, unable to truly say how you felt. 

Arthur shifted and took a large drink of coffee, then looked back at you. He then chuckled to himself and sighed. “Is this how you felt when you told me all that stuff and I said nothin’?” He asked you. “Because now I get it, that’s… agonizin’ to wait.” He offered a wide smile and continued to sip his coffee. 

“Arthur… I…” You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t say it, this man had your tongue. Quickly, you stood up with his closed journal, then threw your arms around his bulky frame, which almost caused him to drop his coffee, and most definitely spilled a majority of yours.

He laughed and looked down at you, your arms around him as you hid your face in his jacket. Arthur patted your shoulder gently at first, then he pulled you in with one arm and hugged you in return. This ain’t so bad, could get used to this. 

The sun was finally beginning to rise in the sky, the colors like a watercolor painting as the pinks and purples slowly faded with the hues of gold, and staring out at the sky while you were wrapped around Arthur was more of a dream than you could have ever imagined. His hand placed gently on your shoulder, allowing you to just remain with him, taking in the comfort of his scent. 

You could get used to days like this.

[thelovelyruin]

𝖇𝖇.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓: a pretty girl with a fast car, and choso just can’t get enough.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.2k

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from bb by shygirl.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! racer choso is back by popular demand, i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I like bad boys, and I know they love me.

When Choso first saw you, you leaned against a GT-R, talking to a guy next to you, another girl in the passenger seat. God, you were sexy. You wore a black patent leather dress and red heels to match. You had your hair up in one of those claw clips and wore a pair of red shades, a gloss covering your lips as you smoked your cigarette. Your legs were on full display, a couple of tattoos here and there, and the chain that adorned your ankle didn’t go unnoticed either. He hadn’t seen you around before, but he was sure he would’ve noticed you out of all the girls who came out and took photos with the cars or stringing with their boyfriends. You were far too relaxed talking to the guy next to you, definitely not the behavior of someone whom you’d just met, so he figured he was your boyfriend. Unfortunately for him, Choso didn’t fucking care.

They say I've got a type; I just think they're lonely.

He walked up to the guy to start a conversation, shaking his hand, intending to use it to talk to you. He had to be respectful before he stole his girl, right?

“Hey, Choso.”

“Yuuji, what’s up.”

“Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

“You’d be right, came out to support a friend.”

Choso pointed past him to the car; damn, she was a beauty. Looked full bolt-on, sitting on bags with a badass body kit, but the cherry red wrap really drew him in, presumably your suggestion to Yuuji.

“Fuckin’ nice, dude, what’s it running on?”

“E85.”

You walked around the car, interrupting their conversation. You leaned on the hood as you looked at Choso, him taking a surprised look at you and then back at Yuuji, who was currently chuckling.

“Sounds like she knows her stuff, huh.”

“‘Cause it’s hers.”

You smile at him and wave, bringing your cigarette up to take a puff again. Choso was in shock, smirking at the little joke both of you were trying to pull.

“Yeah, no way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means a pretty girl like you isn’t whippin' a ride like this.”

“Yeah? Why’s that? Give me the least sexist reason you have.”

Choso wiped down his face in disbelief.

“Now, fuck off while I still think you're cute.”

Choso gave a look to Yuuji, who gave one back that said oh well, dude. Choso didn’t have a lot of flaws, but there was one that was pretty damn big- his fuckin’ ego.

It's cold on these streets, or so they tell me.

“So race me, princess.”

“Whatcha drivin’?”

“Twin turbo MK5 Supra.”

You started laughing at him, taking your shades off to get a good look at him.

“At least make it worth my while!”

“Really? Then why not? You sound pretty fuckin’ confident.”

You get up from the hood now, throwing your cigarette on the ground and stepping on it as you give him a straight look. A Supra was nothing to sneer at, especially with twin-turbo, but it had nothing on your GT-R runnin’ 1800 HP.

“Because I know I’d fuckin’ win. I’d hate to beat you in front of everyone, considering I’m new here.”

“If you’re so sure, let me see you do it.”

You brought your lips up to his ear, grabbing his shirt as you raised to his height.

“If you insist, dollface.”

I keep the conversations brief; we ain't friends, but he'll see.

Your friend got out of the car as you told her what was about to happen. She chuckled and walked with you to a big group of people huddling in the middle of the lot, taking bets. She got their attention, and they looked at her with unserious faces.

“This fucker wants to race my friend. Start a pot.”

The guys got a good look at you and Choso, obviously not taking you seriously, which led to a $15K pot, $3K from Yuuji and Mai on you, and the other $12K on Choso. Yuuji drove your car to where you’d start on the line, Choso driving his. You two looked at each other as you let down your hair, passing the clip and jacket to Yuuji.

“Ready?”

“Are you? Might wanna lose the heels, princess.”

“No need.”

You two got into your respective vehicles, Mai standing between them to raise her hand as you revved your engines. Then, you were off.

Different faces but the road stays the same.

He fuckin’ lost.

You got out of your car with a smirk, putting your jacket back on as the group of guys from before praised you, practically kissing your feet, and just like that, you were $5K richer. Choso walked up to you as you headed back to the lot, walking alone as Yuuji and Mai gathered your prize money. He began clapping, causing you to turn around and smirk.

“Good job, you beat me.”

“Told ya so.”

You leaned against the car now, presumably reaching to pull out another cigarette as Choso put his arm up on the door next to you.

“You're pretty fuckin’ cocky, ya know that?”

“Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it, sweetheart?”

Every man's a drilla till he's in the bed calling my name.

Choso slammed his lips against yours, putting his other arm on the car, caging you in. You returned the kiss, bringing a leg up to his hip, which he accepted, standing between them and massaging the skin there. The feeling of his hand gripping your ass sparked something inside, slipping your tongue in his mouth as his other hand found the back of your neck. Your dress was pretty damn short; anyone walking by would’ve gotten quite the view. He slipped a hand up your chest, groping your tits as you moaned, lips moving to your neck.

You can run and hide; I’m running game.

You brought your hand down his hips, pulling his phone out of the front pocket. With a little push, he stumbles back as you put his phone up to his face, unlocking it. You typed something, handing it to him as you brought your face up to kiss his cheek. With that, you turned and walked, laughing as you left Choso flustered, trying to understand what happened. He looks at his phone, your number staring back at him.

“In case your itchin’ for a rematch.”

Only one winner in this bitch, and I win everything.

Coulda been fucking with a guy; my vibe.

When Choso initially texted you, it was because he did want a rematch. But he also wanted to finish what you guys started the other day. You’d been on his mind as he was working on his car, working out, even when he was, you know. And fuck, you were hot. Constantly posting pics of yourself on cars, often with little clothing, you’d made a career out of modeling. Sometimes Mai was in them with you, you guys being pretty involved with the community. So, why hadn’t he seen you before? It was itching him; the car meets were city-wide, so you had to have come from somewhere else. I guess that answer would come as he got to know you.

“Plans later?”

“Depends, whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess so. Time?”

“5.”

“See ya then.”

“You got it, princess.”

He hung up the phone, grateful. He’d been nervous that you only saw him as the asshole you beat, but luckily, you liked him enough to let him take you out, and kiss you, and grope your tits. Fuck, he was getting hard.

You picked out your earrings as he pulled up; that backfire could be heard from a mile away. You wore a leather top and skirt today (if you could even call it that) and a pair of knee-high boots. As you walked up to him, you smiled and bit your lip, looking into his eyes as you crossed your legs. He had to clear his throat after gazing at your figure, too focused on the hem of your skirt to think appropriate thoughts. 

“Hey, princess.”

“Hey there.”

“You look pretty damn good.”

“When do I not?”

Fuck, you were on your cocky shit again. Choso opened the door for you, helping you into his low seat. As he got into the car, he got an eyeful of you, not even caring if you noticed. Which you did, bringing his chin towards you until your lips nearly touched his.

“Hungry much?”

“I am, actually.”

“So, you’re taking me for dinner?”

“You got it, angel.”

He smiled as he sat back, bringing his hand down to your thigh. Now you were pretty hot, but it wasn’t until you shifted gears for him that he was tempted to fuck you in his back seat; he was continuously arguing with his dick to calm down. You guys pulled up to a hotel, parking in the garage, too scared to let the valet drive his car. He guided you through the lobby and to the elevators and met with an attendant who requested your reservation. With a flash of Choso’s screen, she called the elevator, inputting a code and pressing the “RT” button.

“You two have fun!”

With that, you guys were brought up to the 30th floor. Getting off, Choso spoke something to the hostess standing outside the doors. When you guys pulled up to the hotel, you weren’t expecting to see the open restaurant atop it. Directed to a table on the overlook, the hostess thanked you both and called your waiter. Now, this was fuckin nice. The restaurant had ambient lighting, a fire pit in the middle of the rows of tables, and a view of the city below. You looked over at Choso, who was looking back and forth between you and the overlook.

“Nice rez.”

He perked up at your comment, getting the validation he wanted from you. He hated that you’d made him like this, eating up all the attention you gave him. The loss was enough to humble him, but the comments on your photos were not for the weak. And weak he was, for you, of course.

“Thanks. Whatcha drinkin’?”

“Well, depends. What’re we doing after this?”

Choso looked you up and down, eyes lingering on your legs as he licked his lips.

“Anything you want, angel.”

You blushed a bit, averting your attention to the waiter who had walked up to the table.

“Cosmopolitan, please.”

Picked one who was pretty; you know I like a pretty guy.

After a few drinks and a nice dinner, his gaze fell back to you, looking over the restaurant's railing. You were so fuckin' pretty. Cheeks flustered from the alcohol, your usual stuck-up demeanor a bit more relaxed, just like your lips fixed slightly open, almost in a pout.

“Did you enjoy dinner?”

“It was pretty good, thanks.”

You crossed your legs, smirking as you looked into his eyes. 

“So, what’s your endgame here?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, you’ve taken me out, been textin’ me almost every day for the past two weeks, pretty much-”

“I want you, real bad.”

He’d leaned into the table now, hand caressing your thigh underneath it.

“Is that so?”

His hand began sliding up your leg, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt.

“Want you to be my girl, that is, if you want to.”

His hand began to go beyond your skirt, fondling with the strap of your thong. Suddenly, the waiter returned, handing Choso his card back and thanking him for the visit. When he turned back to you, you were already standing, reaching out for his hand so he could lead you two back to the car.

“I’ll think about it.”

God, I don't give a fuck, but I guess I always do.

As you walked through the lobby, you got a text from Yuuji in the group chat.

"Some dude’s talkin' shit. Says you got lucky the other day with Choso, hadn't raced against a real ride."

"A real ride? What's that fucker driving?"

"He has a few builds. Don't know what he'll pop out with."

Mai opened up the messages, responding to the two of you.

"Okay, if he wants it, he can get it. What time?"

"9."

You checked the time: 8:23. Choso had stopped, seeing the look of irritation on your face.

"What's wrong?"

You showed him the chat, obviously irritated.

"No problem, we can swing back to yours and head over."

"There's not enough time for that. I'll have Yuuji and Mai meet us there with my car."

With that, you both walked to Choso’s car. He’d had a few drinks, so he was feeling pretty good. And by pretty good, he was fingering you on the way to the meet. A thirty-minute drive =  25 minutes to play with your pussy, and he was more than happy to take that option. The only issue was you were concentrating on changing the gears, putting your lives before your pleasure, but you weren’t gonna lie; it was a hard decision. A little tipsy, you were feeling loose, legs wide open to him so he could touch you, alternating between fucking you with his fingers and rubbing your clit. You were loud, too, moaning his name as his pinky held the fabric of your panties to the side so he could fuck you properly. He was in love with you, at least with how you rubbed your hips into his fingers, begging to cum. Unfortunately, that came to an end pretty quickly, getting yourself together as Choso pulled over. He wanted you to get a chance to cool off, kissing you as you fixed your panties and pulled your skirt back down.

As you pulled up, people recognized Choso’s car; that deep purple wrap was his staple. They didn’t expect to see you stepping out of it, recognizing you as the girl who beat him two weeks ago, taking a smoke before shit went down. You looked around the lot; you saw Yuuji and Mai hadn’t quite arrived, reaching down to shoot a text to-

“So, you made it, bitch.”

This asshole walked up to you as you sat on Choso’s hood, his arm unwrapping around your waist as he stood before the guy. Now, while it was admirable that Choso was ready to fight for you, you had to fight your own battles, and if this fucker wanted one, he was gonna get it. You pulled Choso’s arm back, walking up to the guy yourself. This guy was taller than you, not as tall as Choso, but you still had to look up at him as you spoke.

“You said a real ride, huh? What would that be?”

“Porsche 911 Turbo S.”

You smirked at the guy, laughing in his face as he looked at you, pissed off.

“Don’t make me fucking laugh! No, really, you should be a comedian! That damn twin turbo isn’t gonna take you far, sweetheart. That and your horsepower is just as short as your cock.”

The guy got closer to you, grabbing your wrist, making Choso almost fuckin’ pounce on the guy, but you raised your hand to keep him back.

“You talk a lot of shit, girl. Heard you came from the tri-state; whatcha doin’ down here? Tired of losing?”

“The opposite actually, got bored winning against all those dicks back home, so I moved out here for a challenge, which obviously, I’m not gonna get. Now, get your sweaty hand off me before I ash my Marlboro on your arm.”

He retracted his arm, face twisted.

“So, where’s your car bitch?”

“On its way, what, getting hard in anticipation? She is pretty damn sexy.”

“What, did you come here to talk shit?”

“Far from it, slow your brakes, and maybe I’ll let you cum. She’ll be here shortly.”

“Gotta wait to clap your sad excuse of a GT-R. Bet you’re shit with anything else; you pick one of the easiest imports to call your baby.”

Choso had had enough of this shit. He walked up to you and put his car keys in your hands, looking up at the guy with a look that said he was ten seconds away from getting his ass beat.

“Then race her in my car, unless you’re just a yappy bitch.”

If it isn't wrong, then I'm not looking out for you.

You both went to the starting line, Choso driving it up and doing the road test. As two guys from the group prepped your lanes, you looked at Choso in concern as he leaned against the car.

“Ready, princess?”

“What if somethin’ happens, I don’t wanna fuck up your car.”

“Trust me, if somethin’ happens, the last thing I’m thinkin' about is this car.”

“So, be my passenger.”

“That means you really can’t fuck up my car.”

You smiled at him and jabbed his shoulder, pulling him in for a kiss. You two walked over to it, hopping in and getting strapped up. He brought a hand over to rest on your thigh, moving it soon after so you could move the gear shift. As a guy walked between the cars to flag, Choso took a good look at you. You looked the most serious he’d ever seen you, eyes forward as you patiently waited for the flag to come up. It was hard for him not to look at your skirt, riding up from how you sat in the seat, panties probably sitting on the-

Choso hadn’t even realized the flagger signaled the takeoff. You reached 100 in 3.5 seconds, pushing him back in the seat as you shifted gears to accommodate the rapid change. From the passenger mirror, he could see the Porsche falling behind, obviously not matching the launch of Choso’s car. As you passed the finish signal, you began to slow down, Porsche catching up. You come to a complete stop now, starting to back up to the starting line. You looked good, hair messy and face flustered, eyes blown from how intense you had to concentrate and the adrenaline pumping through you. Probably the vodka, too.

You hopped out of the car, waiting for the asshole to pull back in, smirking at his loss. He got out of it, even angrier than before, cursing out the flaggers and accusing them of fucking with the signal. Right on time, Mai and Yuuji pulled up in your car, handing you the keys.

“We miss something?”

This time, Mai had replaced Choso as passenger princess, buckling herself in as they warmed the tires. The asshole flipped you off as he returned to his Porsche, obviously holding a grudge. Probably because there was a $40K pot now, and $30K of it was on you. This didn’t take very long at all. The second the flaggers cleared you, you were gone, but this time, his Porsche was neck and neck with yours. As you pulled back, guys were already arguing about the win. Everyone was in outrage; most people were pissed off and claimed loss on a $40K pot. With that, they agreed to review the footage in slo-mo, getting back to everyone as soon as they determined the winner. The cocky asshole smirked, saying things like, ‘We know I won,’ and ‘Tell that bitch she lost.’ You rolled your eyes and lit your cigarette, not like there was anything you could do but wait for the results. Yuuji and Mai said bye as they drove off in Yuuji’s 340i, leaving you and Choso at your car.

“You did good, princess.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you up and down, licking his lips again with half-lidded eyes.

“Let me show you how good you did.”

Only making eyes at a bad boy, one or two of the crew.

“Fuck!”

You practically couldn't get off each other after you and Choso met at your house, even forgetting to lock the front door. He didn't even bother taking you to your room; he had to get your thong off as soon as possible. And now, he was lapping you up on the couch as you pulled on his hair. Shit, he could eat pussy. Your eyes were rolling back, so blissed out you couldn't tell if it was the aftermath of three cosmos or just how good his tongue worked in and out of you. He was going wild, sucking at your clit a little harder every time you said his name, arms wrapped around your legs to pin you down and get you as close to his face as possible. You tasted so fuckin' good; happy to indulge in it now; licking you off his fingers earlier was just a tease. He licked you a little faster as your thighs began to tense on the sides of his head; he could tell you were about to cum. You groaned his name the loudest you had so far and finally let go. He was fuckin' drowning, and he loved every second of it. He was so fuckin' proud of you, not just because you came for him, but also because you beat that asshole earlier.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it, give it to me.”

As you came down, you got up, walking Choso back to your room. You pulled your top overhead and lost your skirt, naked, as you pushed him back to sit on the bed. You work fast to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down, taking his boxers down with them. He helps you out by removing his shirt, not nearly fast enough for how quickly you’d gotten on top of him, straddling his hips as you moved your pussy back and forth over his shaft, begging him to fuck you. Well, how could he say no to that?

If you got an attitude, I'ma take a ride with you.

Choso lifted your hips a little, sinking you onto his dick slowly as you anchored yourself on his chest. You were moaning so fuckin’ loud, throwing your head back as you bounced up and down on his dick, finally finding the relief of his teasing all day. His hands gripped your hips, meeting your hips to thrust into you until, eventually, you started to slow down, getting tired from fucking him so fast. So, he sat up, adjusting you so you were on your knees, straddling his waist as he bounced you up and down on his dick. He groaned your name over and over in your ear, bringing a hand up to hold your back, bringing your tits into his chest before bringing his head down to suck at them, still fucking into you at a dangerous pace. He almost felt selfish for how fast he was fucking you, but you were so high on cumming earlier that you took every thrust he gave you, giving him those pretty whimpers every time he hit that special spot inside of you, but you needed him to keep hitting it, wanting to waste no time.

“Baby, make me cum again.”

“Yeah, baby? Want to cum for me again?”

You tried to say yes, but Choso was already flipping you over; he was on top of you, pushing his dick back into you, hitting that spot immediately. Fuck, he was consistent, ramming his hips into yours right there, reaching your hand up to grip his hair and bite his neck as he drilled into you. You were so fucking close, scratching your nails down his back as he took you exactly where you needed to be. You became undone on him, moaning his name into the room as you gripped his back and the sheets.

“Yeah, baby, cum for me. Fuck you feel so good…”

He fucked you through your orgasm; the spasms of your pussy, as you came, made him feel like nirvana, fucking into you deep as he chased his high. Within seconds he came inside of you, fucking his cum deeper into you as you held him, spent from overstimulation.

You can run and hide; I’m running game.

Choso rolled over, falling next to you on the bed, practically gasping for air after cumming so hard. He’d wanted you for so long, and seeing you in that outfit all night had made him feral. You got up first, putting your hair up in a clip as you walked to your bathroom to clean up, and as much as he didn’t wanna see you go, the brilliant view of your ass as you walked out the bedroom door made him want you to leave. You came back and cleaned his dick off, which he thanked you for with a kiss and a slap to your ass. Getting in bed with him, he wrapped his arms around you as you rested a hand on his chest.

Suddenly, your phone lit up with a text from Mai in the group chat. You opened the message, a slo-mo recap of the race from earlier. You had passed his Porsche ever so slightly, and the organizers declared you the winner of the race. Not like you’d ever think you’d lose.

Only one winner in this bitch and I win everything.

♱ the song used in this story is bb by shygirl. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[reveluving]

red lipstick ; adam driver characters headcanons

summary: because what’s sexier than seeing you in red lipstick? 💄

warnings: fluff, humour, slightly explicit (minors DNI!)

a/n: on an ADCU spree so I figured it’s the best time to write my own, courtesy of @safarigirlsp​ & @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather​ for continuously feeding my obsession hehe! pls pls pls give their work some extra love!! and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» check out my full m.list!

✧･ﾟ Jacques Le Gris

Le Gris' own presence exudes confidence, ferocity, and allure, and his lady is no different. What better way to show the men who envy him the same way the ladies do with you than by bringing you the best of the best? He will settle for nothing less, especially when it comes to your comfort and the like, and he will know if they're not up to par.

Old-timey Jacques will indirectly criticize the maiden in charge, knowing they probably did so to make you seem 'less appealing' to your very own lover, but many seem to forget that he was extremely smart just as he was your doting husband. Just a quick exile over here, a simple repeat of his demand for the best over there and boom, he's back to being happy ol' Le Gris. Modern Jacques is no different, for he would easily purchase the shades you'd swatch and hum to yourself, knowing if he heard how much you liked it, he'd buy the whole store for you. Do you want them personalised, too? Go right on ahead!

And that's not a threat, it's a promise.

“You should never settle for anything less, ma chérie. I shall not allow it.” He’d chime in as soon as he sees your eyes sparkle at the new case with both wonderment and guilt. If you offer to repay him for his endless gifts, he will ask for your kisses, complete with the new set he’s given you, but ever the lover boy that he is, you know good and well it won’t end with just kisses.

✧･ﾟ Flip Zimmerman

Ever heard of the saying "the fortune favours the bold"? He doesn't need to hear from Stallworth that Flip has in fact 'loosen up' upon being graced by your existence. He does, however, preen in the knowledge that since knowing you, he's become bold. Well, bolder than he already was. Where has uncertainty brought him in life? But as much as he'd like to deny till the end of time, he's nearly done it before.

Keyword: nearly.

The day you met, he wondered if he had died in a shootout and met hell's personal It girl—no angel could pull off the devil's shade with pride the way you do. Had he continued to mask his hesitancy by returning your undeterred gaze, he'd be the biggest fool for letting you go.

He'd clock in work with your lipstick stains if he could. Public indecency be damned! He'd fight everyone and anyone if he hears another person talk about it as a form of embarrassment.

"S'not my fault you don't have a pretty girl to come home to." He'd shrug, though the wolfish smile told the poor bastard everything that he felt. Was he wrong? No. Was he going to fight Flip for publicly embarrassing him with the truth? Absolutely not; your husband would probably knock him out before the guy could even land a hit.

✧･ﾟ Clyde Logan

To think there were more red lipstick shades than he could count with his good hand. In all honesty, he really doesn't have a favourite nor does it matter if it's even red or not. That's not to say he doesn't care because clearly, he does, but only in the sense that it makes you happy. You are the professional in this particular field, after all. But best believe the happiness that heightens in him whenever you'd ask for his opinion.

Still, the colour red does, however, as the current generation says, 'hits different'. Unsubtle glances from his patrons were a normal occurrence but they never got any easier by the day. But, on the other hand? He’s the lucky son of a gun who gets to call you ‘his’.

But the man loves his kisses, and kisses he will get! With your frequent visits to the bar, you'll never let this man work without at least a peck on the cheek. Seeing his signature pout lift to the bashful smile we know and love (the audacity) takes no effort.

“Y’know just how to make a man happy, sugar.” He’d murmured against your lips, his sudden boldness not surprising you but instead, his customers, who were only giving him shit but also openly ogling at you not too long ago.

✧･ﾟ Kylo Ren

Whether you think of our ol’ touch-starved leader, the vampire, the knight, or whatever suits your fancy, Kylo will want nothing more than the top-notch of things for his darling, and your preference for lipstick shouldn’t be any different! He, in a way, is an embodiment of red—his passion for both his belief, his interest, and especially, his devotion to you. So, to see the very same colour he associates closely with, other than black, be embraced as your very own as well? He shouldn’t be surprised that most, if not all of his elation are sourced from you in general.

He’s a busy man, but he will not miss the opportunity to watch you apply your colour of the day with great care. He’s unconsciously smiling, lost in your melodic hum as his vow to keep you out of harm’s way grows stronger. He’s been through hell and back to survive, and he’d have no problem doing the same it’s to ensure you leave the danger zone unscathed. So, if something as simple as red lipstick makes you happy, then don’t be surprised if you see a new one even before your current one runs out.

And although all kisses are good kisses, don’t think he won’t pull you in for a real one once the smooching fest starts. You’re worried about leaving a stain? Don’t be! His men/subordinates don’t have the balls to point them out, knowing by doing so is a game over for them.

✧･ﾟ Charlie Barber

The man eats, sleeps, and breathes art, so it's knowing his beloved has her very own is a major plus! One would think nothing impresses him anymore, or at least, not as much as his own work, but oh, were they dead wrong. There hasn't been a day where the lipstick holder on your vanity table never makes him puff out his chest with pride. From the simple matte ones he'd buy after a random day at work simply because it reminds him of you, to the high-end bold to burgundy ones personalised with your name engraved on the case. C’mon, what harm would it do to him for paying a couple of hundreds for makeup as one of his ways to say thank you to his wife—his muse!

Charlie embraces this as your form of art; the shades, the textures, the right amount of shine or shimmer—just anything that screams you. Artistry performed best by his one and only.

And how could he forget about the polaroids you both have? Yours which has him covered in your lipstick stains and face in absolute bliss? His which were you kissing the area close to his happy trail, leaving the same shade colour to his toned body?

Yes, your husband's in paradise, indeed.

✧･ﾟ Commander Mills

Another hunk who really just finds your confidence in whichever you find is best is more than enough, because what's better than his girl's own joy? Even so, if red really speaks to you, then don't be surprised he takes advantage of it. If the numerous times you've caught him staring at your lips and even shamelessly holding your gaze doesn't tell you anything, then the instance he wraps his arms around you for a little while longer before pressing his lips onto yours definitely should.

And if we're talking about the whole time-travelling shebang and somehow, you had to make your own lipstick? Wowie. This man will scour every nook and cranny for the ingredients if you asked him to. Best believe he will find what you need!

If it means getting the opportunity to see you do your thing in your colour and being able to wipe off the accidental smear just after you've applied it, that man is on a mission.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

You can tell that I lost my roll towards the end HAHAHA but if you’re wondering what lipstick in particular inspired me to write this, it’s:

ETUDE Fixing Tint in Analog Rose/Vintage Red

Dior Rouge Dior Lipstick in 999

Stunna Lip Paint Longwear Fluid Lip Color in Uncensored

PERIPERA Ink Airy Velvet in Full Red Brick (11)

[teawithnosugar]

hiii! loooove your writing <3

Would you ever write a one-shot where reader has a bf but is sneaking around with Ellie and Ellie finally gets fed up with it, like why don’t you just leave him?? But then we find out reader is too afraid to dump him because maybe he hurts/threatens reader?

Idk I feel like this could sting but in the best way 🫣

Not Too Late

Ellie x Reader

CW: angst/comfort....I think, abuse, cheating WORDS: 0.9k SYNOPSIS: You aren't as unreasonable as Ellie originally thought SONG: Lover, You Should've Come Over - Jeff Buckley

"Maybe I'm too young To keep good love from going wrong"

AN: I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, I KNOW I USUALLY GIVE SAD ENDINGS BUT IT FELT WRONG TO NOT GIVE THIS ONE A SOMEWHAT HAPPY END

“Jesus Christ, I remember this…” Ellie said with a grin as she looked at one of the pictures in the photo album you were holding. Together, bare on your bed, you nestled between her legs, her chin resting tenderly upon your shoulder. The warmth of her breath caressed your skin as she nuzzled her nose beneath your ear. You were both looking at pictures from your teenage years, specifically a picture you took with Ellie asleep on your shoulder while both Jesse and Dina drew on her face. You had been friends for years, madly in love for the majority of it. You giggled, smile faltering once you looked outside, the sun was setting which meant your boyfriend Dan would be home soon because unfortunately, the moment you and Ellie confessed your love for each other was 2 months into your relationship with a guy who was relatively new to Jackson.

“Why…why are you still with him?” Ellie asked softly. You both loved each other, she knew you didn’t love him, and you knew she was bound to ask this question sooner or later.

“It’s complicated Els-” 

“It’s not,” you began, only to be interrupted by her swift retort, her tone laced with an icy edge. She was right, you both knew it and she’s been patient with you for the past few months, she had given you the grace of time, patiently awaiting the words you never uttered. 

She untangled herself from you, standing up and picking up her clothes from the floor and starting to dress up. “Els please, give me time-”

“I’ve given you 9 goddamn months Y/N. If you were staying with him because you were pregnant you would’ve given birth by now. Why don’t you just leave him?”

She asked coldly, tying her shoes as she finished dressing up. You stayed quiet, hugging your knees tightly as you stared at the messy sheets. Words lingered on the tip of your tongue, desperate to reveal the way he wields his words like weapons, threatening your very existence. You stayed quiet because, your mind, painting vivid images of the horrors he would inflict on you if you even told him you wanted to leave.

She groaned frustratedly at your silence, walking out of your house and slamming the door shut. You sobbed softly as you started dressing up. She always came back to you after arguments, so you weren’t worried about that. You were just sad because you were hurting her.

When Dan came home, he immediately noticed a flannel on the floor, it wasn’t yours and it sure as hell wasn’t his. There’s no way you got it recently, you had been home for weeks, waiting for the bruises he gave you during your last fight to fade. It’s the reason Ellie even came over, she missed you, and now you missed her.

His fists struck with a brutal force, knocking you to the floor. Frozen in fear, you lay there, limp and defenseless—your body's automatic response. He unbuckled his belt then used it as a whip, the deafening sound the leather made against your skin filled your ears. Shades of crimson danced upon your flesh, an artist's palette of pain. And still, he persisted. When the belt had worn out its cruel dance, he returned to using his bare fists. Amidst the assault, thoughts slithered, attempting to justify his actions, to find reason in this madness. ’Maybe I’m disappointing him? Sometimes men get carried away when they feel like they should be having fun’ Such thoughts whispered in the recesses of your mind, clinging desperately to a semblance of understanding.

Minutes stretched into an eternity as you lay on the floor, broken and bruised. Tentatively, you rose, your trembling form cleaning the bloodstains from the floor, your body seeking refuge beneath the cascading water of the shower. This had become your grim reality—a cycle where beatings transformed from rare occurrences to nightly rituals upon Dan's return. He drained you of strength, providing the bare minimum sustenance required for survival, keeping you physically weak, your spirit tethered.

Days melted into one another, your existence confined to a bedridden state, waiting for Dan's return, awaiting his whims and desires. Initially, your thoughts lingered upon the pain you caused Ellie, but as your senses dulled over the weeks, those thoughts waned. They were replaced by an ache, a longing to see her face, to feel her presence. Dan's venomous threats reverberated in your ears, yet whenever you closed your eyes, all you could see was Ellie, her face shining like a beacon in the darkness.

She’ll come back, she always comes back.

Exhaustion seeped into your bones, prompting you to seek solace in sleep, still dressed in your sweater and pajamas. You saw her beautiful face, leaning close, whispering words that were muffled by the buzzing in your ears. A tender smile graced your lips as you beheld her beauty, there was no sight more enchanting. Once the grogginess and the buzzing in your ears faded, you realized this wasn’t a dream.

“Baby are you okay? Can you hear me?”

“Els…?”

If you were in the right state, you would have enveloped her in your arms, holding her close. You would have nestled into her chest as she gently lifted you up. You would’ve seen Dan’s unconscious body by the doorframe of your bedroom. You would’ve noticed the relief on her face because she realized just how much worse you would’ve been if she hadn’t mustered up the courage to try talking to you again. You would’ve noticed the tears threatening to fall down her face because she wasn’t too late.

[thehighladywrites]

THE AIRHEAD CHRONICLES

…AND THE MEETING

-> Pairing: Cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> Summary: Cassian remembers the first time he met you. He truly forgets what a mess you are sometimes, but you’re still his mess.

-> Author’s note: This is going to become a series where I add new headcanons and little drabbles. I love the idea of a bimbo/ditzy reader who’s a real sweetheart but isn’t really the brightest. No worries! As long as Cassian is here, you won’t have to worry about your safety (not that you were before) among other things. Also I’m either gonna make something where Azriel joins them once or I’m gonna make his own series.

part two part three part four part five

- Cassian honestly wondered how you were still alive sometimes. You’d do things that made his heart stop and you acted as if it was nothing at all.

- For instance, he’ll never forget the day that he met you.

- Cassian found you walking around in the middle of the night, all by yourself. He looked at you as if you were crazy, clad in a little black dress that was tight around your ass and almost had your tits spilling out. You walked right past him, not even noticing him staring at you.

- You were skipping around in the dangerous parts of velaris seemingly unknown about the dangers lurking around.

- This time of day, drunkards, rapists and robbers were everywhere though that thought simply wasn’t in your head

- No, you were looking up at the stars, admiring the different shades of violet, completely oblivious of the fact that you had caught the eyes of a group of men.

- They quickly made their way over to you when you stopped to pick up a flower in a nearby bush, you couldn’t help yourself, they looked so pretty!! How could you walk past them?

- “ Hey there baby, what is someone as pretty as you doing out here all alone?”

- What a nice man! You give them a sweet smile and explain what you’re doing.

- “ Oh hello! i’m just going for a walk. The sky is so beautiful tonight. I think starfall is near, don’t you?”

- You miss the predatory glint in their eyes, happy to be making some friends, something that happened quite often.

- “ Yeah, sure. How about you come with us and have a drink. We could get you something really delicious.”

- “ Really? I’m quite thirsty, that would be perfect! thank you guys!!” Wow, these guys were nice. One of them even had a hand on your lower back to guide you.

- But, wait- isn’t the bar that way? Maybe there’s another bar behind this alley. It was very dark but you were sure it was around here somewhere.

- Cassian had been following you and decided to intervene. Perhaps you already had a few drinks because no sane woman would willingly walk with these males into a dark pathway.

- “ What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a booming voice echoed through the alleyway.

- “ Mind your own business, Illyrian. We’re just taking out this lady out for some drinks, isn’t that right?” The males all nod and grunt in agreement. But you’re not paying attention to them. You’re looking at the towering man infront of you.

- Your glossed lips part in surprise, eyes growing comically large. You had never seen such a handsome guy before, totally your type!!!

- This guy was like a powerhouse—muscular, with huge battle-scarred wings. Wasn’t there a saying about Illyrian wings? And oh his eyes? Intense and a bit playful. Dressed in Illyrian leathers, he was the epitome of strength and confidence. He radiated authority and dominance.

- “ I think you better get out of here. Now.” He stepped forward as the others subconsciously took a step back. Only the guy that was talking to you remained in his position.

- “Yeah? Or what? You filthy low-born.”

- You were shocked at how quick this male had changed. He wasn’t the sweet guy that wanted drinks. Maybe-

- Before you could finish your thought, the tall Illyrian had punched him clean across his face, making you gasp. Your heels clicked against the cobblestones as you took a step back.

- The guy started got up but he didn’t fight back, he and his friends just ran away, leaving you behind. How rude! You really wanted your drink.

- “ Are you okay? You know, you really shouldn’t be walking around this late, especially alone.”

- How dare he lecture you after scaring away your friends like that?!! You scowled at him, your perfectly glossed lips pouting at the intruder.

- “ I was doing perfectly fine, in fact they were about to buy me refreshments before you so rudely chased them away.”

- He looked at you as if you had told him pigs could fly. With furrowed eyebrows, disbelief showed in his eyes. His frame was towering over you as he took a step closer to you.

- “Are you kidding me? Sweetheart, you do know why they took you here to this empty alley.”

- This male was crazy. You tilted your head, your jewelry jingling as you looked at him with confusion.

- “They were taking me out for drinks and we were looking for a bar. What could you possibly mean?”

- He stared at you for a while, deciding if he should tell you. Maybe you really didn’t know. While he wanted to warn you about following strangers into dark, creepy alleys, he also didn’t want to be the one to burst your bubble. He simply couldn’t shatter your innocent view and it made him surprisingly protective. But why was that? He didn’t even know your name, let alone enough about you to be feeling like this. Yet something in him told him to not let you go.

- “ How about I just take you home, you seem to have had an eventful night.”

- You pondered over it but accepted it nonetheless. Some company would be nice.

- The way back to your apartment was comfortably quiet. As you reached the door, you stopped and turned around. You offered your hand out for him to shake.

- “ That was a really quick walk. Oh, also thanks for walking me home. I’m Y/n by the way.”

- “ No worries, I’m Cassian.”

- He shook your hand and suddenly, everything brightened up. His entire world shifted as that golden thread snapped in place. There was a moment of clear truth, a chance for genuine happiness and authenticity to shine through.

- “ Oh, what a cute name. You should definitely have a nickname. Hmm, let’s see… I really like the sound of Cassie. I think it’s super adorable!” You looked up at him again, doe-eyed and blushy.

- He just stared at you wide-eyed, not able to form a single coherent sentence. Usually people loved talking you but this guy just kept quiet. You fidgeted uncomfortably because you really wanted his attention and if he wasn’t gonna give you some, you’d tease him a little for it.

- “ Um, alright, good night then Cassie. I hope to see you around since you now owe me a drink. Also you’re like really hot.” You pressed a quick kiss on his cheek and turned to open the door.

- Before he could respond you had already closed your door, leaving him behind with a flood of emotions, a beating heart and million questions.

[dwindlinghaze]

Hiii ur writing is sooo good

I was wondering if u could do a Remus x reader who is James sister and she falls for the first time she sees him and just like a fluff kinda thing idk but I was thinking and it sounds cute 🤷🏽

no worries if u don’t wanna write this but if u do thanks you write him so well 💗

hi!! tysm for requesting! i hope you like this! sending lots of love 🤍🌸🫧🪽

the light is coming

(remus lupin x potter!reader)

contents : fluff, pining

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"james! where are we going?" you squeezed his arms, leaving white prints on his skin.

"ow- we're going to meet my friends," james answered, pushing through the crowds in diagon alley.

"i've meet them before," you replied with a huff. you wanted to see them actually, since your pretty crush is a part of his friend group, but you weren't going to show it. playing it cool.

"but you've never met them," he emphasised.

it's true. just sharing smiles and waves when you passes them in the hallway. you were younger than them so your schedules were different.

"so... here's my sister!" james happily introduced you to his friends once you entered a coffee shop where his friends were.

"this is sirius," he pointed to the infamous hogwart's handsome boy with eyes so grey and cool. he wore a black leather jacket with shiny chains decorated within them.

you sent sirius an awkward smile. the thing is, you were scared of meeting them in person, face-to-face. not because they intimidated you, but because you were never really comfortable with the presence of men around you. you knew deep down that james' friends are friendly and fun but that fear doesn't go isolated.

"this is remus," james tilted his head to the boy standing closest to him. he wears a green coloured sweater, even though it's the summer. you noticed this of course, he never took his jumpers off. his hair was the perfect shade of golden blonde, eyes as green as a comet in the sky. he wore a macrame bracelet that his mom probably made for him.

he has a different aura. you actually might be comfortable with him overtime. his gaze so friendly and warm, despite his scruffy exterior. you thought you might actually blush when he sent you the prettiest smile known to men.

"and here's peter," james patted peter's shoulder. he was shorter than all of them. he seemed kind and polite. wearing an outdated cardigan with the edges a bit worn out.

"lovely to see you guys," you chuckled, sending a happy smile. and in return, you got warm greetings back.

"let's go to the quidditch store!" james announced, dragging you and sirius by the arms.

your brother and sirius were in a deep conversation about quidditch that you ncould never understand so you wiggle yourself out of his grasp. preferring to walk behind them along with remus and peter who were having a peaceful time admiring the wizardry architectures.

your pace slowed down, meeting with the two. a part of you also just wanted to be closer to remus. he welcomed you by smiling at you with the kindest eyes. leaving your heart hammering. maybe it was a bad idea to leave james 'cause now you're in this messy situation.

"hey," remus started softly, not wanting to scare you off. "how you're enjoying your summer?"

"hmm good, how about you?" you replied, finding it hard to create a complete sentence.

"it was fine, missing school though. wait- i meant friends- james sirius peter not like i'm a school-lover or anything," remus let out a nervous laugh, tips of his ears turning a shade of red.

"yeah i totally understand that. i miss my friends too," you smiled at him warmly. "did you do anything exciting?" you asked.

"no, not really. you?" he looked so focused at you to the point that you think you might disappear.

"uh i just.. went to the beach s'all, nothing really exciting. i guess when we grow older, the things we find exciting isn't much fun anymore," you shrugged, still keeping your eyes away from him.

a few seconds later, he pulled your shoulder to himself, making you gasp reluctantly. he did that so you wouldn't hit the person who was carrying a trolley. how convenient.

that simple gesture made your heart beaten twice as fast. your long time crush was holding you?

"oh i'm so so sorry," remus pulled his hand away, sending apologetic eyes. "i- i didn't want you to hit him so i pulled you, i'm so sorry!"

"that's okay remus, i appreciate what you did," you smiled softly. "can i call you that?" you asked.

"you can call me anything," he smiled.

you two bonded together overtime. he is becoming your best friend in the whole entire world.

he asks about your day. he opens doors for you. he asks what is your favourite breakfast menu were so he can save it for you. he pulls out chairs for you to sit.

"i've been seeing funky things about you and moony," james said one day.

"what funky things?"

"as if you two were in love...?" james quirked his eyebrows up.

"we're not," you huffed, feeling your ears turning warm.

james looked at you suspiciously, "y'know you can tell anything to me. i won't let remus knows that you're in love with him, promise."

"i'm not!," you defended. though you think you were.

"you are! i can see it. y'know i'm really glad it's remus who you've fallen for because he's a good guy. the only one i'd let you be in a relationship with."

"james stop that. i'm not in love with him, he wouldn't love me anyway."

"oh you're so wrong about that!" james said before he left you to his quidditch practice.

remus did everything right. starting from little things to big gestures like this one.

you were sitting on the grass besides the black lake with a carpet under you. seeing the waters shining and glimmering.

it has been a routine for the both of you to sit here every friday, talking about literally anything and everything.

surrounding you were pretty wild flowers, matching your florally dress that you wore today.

it would be a lie to say that remus wasn't in awe of your appearance. your hair were shining under the warm light of the sunset. everything was perfect today.

"is this okay?" he asked, wrapping both of his arms around you from the back as you stared into the big wide lake. he just wanted to be close to you. to feel you. hug you.

your stomach was flipping, feeling his gentle touch. "yeah, you're so warm," you cuddled into him as he nuzzled his face to your neck.

he swore he's going to ask you to be his girlfriend soon. it's inevitable. he feels it.

[cruesuffix]

hi

so i made this blog for the sole reason of a silly idea i had, which is:

ranking mötley crüe outfits because we get bored sometimes!!

to start: this photo

let’s start with mick:

- i love this era of mick btw (can be said about every era)

-the pants are cute ngl, like i think he really liked these cause i have a couple more pics of him wearing them. 7/10 (yo wait i’m looking at the pic again, wtf is that white stuff near his dick…i really hope he didn’t rip those jeans…)

- THE SHOES idc what anyone says those shoes are a serve frfr‼️ i don’t think he’s worn these ones a lot (imo he should of these are so cute) 8/10

-the leather jacket is nothing special imo, like very stock standard looking jacket it’s getting a 5/10

-the scarf…i’m beefing. like we could have gotten a nice chest pic right there and the old man is busy trying to be “modest”, SHOW CHEST OLD MAN 2/10

- which brings us to the shirt, very conveniently buttoned the last two buttons but won’t show us chest, like my guy tommy’s right next to you showing off his tits and here you are- you know what the shirt is still nice so i’ll give it a 6.5/10

mick altogether has a score of: 8/10

next up is tommy:

- ok i can’t exactly see his pants, but i’m pretty sure his has tassels on them, and i’m a sucker for tassels, so that’s an 8/10

- i can’t see the belt he has on so it’s getting a 3/10 sorry tommy nobody can see that

- the shirt (practically half off anyways) will get a 7/10 because you’re not a coward and will show us chest for free (unlike some people >:/)

- once again the leather jacket is the least important part of this outfit it’s getting a 3.5/10 (still more important than that nonexistent belt though)

-the earrings are a plus though, it will get a 6.6/10 they’re helping him serve (not like he needs the help)

so tommy’s outfit will give him: 7.4/10

now onto vince:

- even though we can’t really see the pants, the small part of his foot the camera captured tells us he’s also wearing leather pants…nothing special so 5/10

-he’s actually wearing sneakers, which he’s worn since like probably ‘82 or something like that, which i find funny compared to some of the things he’s worn…i’ll give that a 6/10 for the humour value

- of course, he’s only wearing a leather jacket but i’ll give him a 7/10 for the audacity…we need to start taking notes people (*cough mick *cough)

- the gloves are a bonus actually like that’s kind of a serve ngl 8/10

so vince’s score will be: 7.9/10

now onto our last subject, nikki:

- first thing you lock onto in this photo is nikki’s jacket. that is a great damn jacket my god. putting nikki in my rob list as we speak actually. i will be giving the jacket a 9/10

- the shirt is ruffled (i’m pretty sure the ruffles aren’t apart of the jacket but i wouldn’t be surprised) i actually like that kind of style…secret time: i loved nikki’s phase where he dressed like a gay pirate that only exclusively listened to queen. so that being said, the shirt gets a 8/10

-the pants are obviously leather and we know how i feel about leather pants…it’s getting a 5/10.

- the shades are actually really nice, i love circle frames you can pry that shit outta my cold dead hands- anyways those get a 7.5/10

- the bass will be counted as a part of the outfit…love it, can’t go wrong with black, especially if it fits the outfit 9/10

to complete the set, nikki gets a 8.2/10 (sorry mick this outfit just eats)

this was so much fun to do, i might do more (if that’s what you guys would like too) anyways that’s been the first instalment of “ranking the crüe fits” with your host lily!