#happy birthday megan thee stallion

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Megan Jovan Ruth Pete, Megan Thee Stallion: February 15, 1995

[leafington]

𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙩, 𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙬𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙞𝙣'𝙩 𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙩! - kei t.

content warning !! - infidelity (again. yes ik im wringing this dry), older!reader, blackfem!reader, loser!tsukki bc im a sucker, timeskip!tsukki, ooc (somewhat), very light angst, slight smut, fluff, masturbation

a/n - AND IT WAS THE KISS WHEN U HELD ME CAPTIVE, HE LYIN TO ME AND IM LYIN TO HIM 😛 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TSUKIPOO

VIRGIN!TSUKISHIMA nearly fell out on the floor meeting you for the first time, attending his first ever frat party thanks to one of his teammate's pestering. He hadn't a single clue how to manage himself there, the beer tasted like ass, the people were rowdy, not to mention loud. The highlight of his night being seeing you waltz in with a group of friends, and in the midst of all the crowding, you locked eyes with him.

VIRGIN!TSUKISHIMA was a nervous wreck when you walked up to him in that low-cut top, using it to your advantage when buttering him up by saying how "cute" he was and how you were gonna "eat him up", both of which he played off and said you were being dumb. The more you spoke the tighter his pants felt, and not just because of your tits being the most distracting thing in his sight, but because of the natural charm and maturity that surrounded you.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI who played oblivious when you tried and failed to lay him down for the night but he wanted more than just a quick fuck with you. He wanted to drag this out for as long as he could for no particular reason other than needing to know the woman behind all that... well... woman. That face... that body... the look in your eyes that showed your shared interest as well.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI who returned to his dorm a little later than usual to tuck himself away, lock his door, and stuff a towel beneath the small opening of his door. He felt so ashamed when he pulled his flushed cock out of his boxers, hips slowly rutting into his hand with the image of you in his mind. He could only imagine how your lips would feel around him, what you'd do after hearing how pathetic he sounds despite showing fake disdain for you.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI who ended up stroking himself every other night because all of a sudden you were everywhere he was! On campus, off campus, the library, hell, he didn't even know you were in is archeology course! Of course, when he did realize, he saw you being all friendly with some guy who sat next to you and it didn't take a genius to know it was your boyfriend.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI who attempted to avoid you at all costs, even just seeing someone who resembled you drove him crazy. With this newfound knowledge of there being someone else in the picture, he decided he wanted nothing to do with you. But after running into you during the late hours of his shift and gazed into your eyes again, he could hardly think rationally about what he'd do next.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI who wound up clashing lips with you somewhere near the nonfiction, fantasy, or maybe around the autobiography section of the library. He couldn't remember. He didn't even register that he was making out with someone else's girlfriend, only that he was actually kissing someone.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI who pledged to never let it happen again but you just needed more and more of him! He'd fight tooth and nail against your confidence that your boyfriend wouldn't find out, that it didn't matter because at the end of the day it was him you wanted and not your sorry excuse of a boyfriend. When he'd ask why, you dismiss him before proceeding to press sweet and needy kisses on his jaw.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI who swore he wouldn't allow this situationship to go beyond just sneaking around and fondling one another, but eventually he gave up on that when you started showing up at his doorstep during a storm in tears and a runny-nose, words near intelligible when you rambled about catching him for the fifth time this week with another girl.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI who willingly gave himself to you and your insistence that only he could make you feel good, that he could actually make you feel something besides the dampness in your panties, and he went feral. He kissed up and down your neck, peeled your soaked clothing off, and begged, yes—begged—for you to use him as much as you needed, and who were you to ignore a poor guy's wishes?

VIRGIN!TSUKKI found out that night that he was way more pathetic than he thought. Always fantasizing that he'd be the one to reduce you to tears, pleading, and submission from your initial confident self just to be the one doing all that instead. He thought he'd die when you sucked him off heavenly, pretty lips he wished for every night in the past feeling better than he imagined, tongue doing wonders on him that he never saw coming. Once he got that pussy, it was over for him.

VIRGIN!TSUKKI spilled into you so many times, profusely apologizing even though you told him he was okay and continued riding all of his sense of being away. He didn't even think he had all that in him until he saw his own seed leaking out of you in such a similar way to the videos he's seen.

DEFLOWERED!TSUKISHIMA who held himself a little higher than before after his night with you, even with the guilt of smashing someone's girlfriend hanging over his head, but could he really feel that bad? After all, she came to him with her problems and wanted him to fix it.

Guess you both ain't shit.

©2024 leafington dont steal please!! :)

[acrosstobear]

i don’t care if these bitches don’t like me

MICK SCHUMACHER — March 22, 1999 —

[Insp.]

[dreweasysblog]

[callmebrycelee]

HAPPY 29TH BIRTHDAY, MEGAN THEE STALLION!!!

[theereina]

Happy Birthday, Megan

[saturngalore]

TRAUMAZINE 🖤

[royaltyrules816]

Happy Birthday Megan Thee Stallion‼️

[cranberrykiwi]

Happy Birthday Megan!

Song: Last Valentine's (2AAB remix) by PinkPantheress

- Audio by me

- Made using Capcut

[fictionalfantasies]

in honor of today being our favorite aquarian’s birthday, i made an extra book cover for AQUARIUS featuring MEGAN THEE STALLION. Happy birthday Megan! No slander is allowed, this is a Megan Thee Stallion appreciation page!

Check out the new AQUARIUS edition on wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/317284409-the-zodiac-series-book-2-aquarius

coming soon to ao3

read the first edition here on tumblr: https://www.fictionalfantasies.tumblr.com/Aquarius

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Megan Jovon Ruth Pete:  February 15, 1995

Last year, I posted them all together for February 15, but I want this by itself on this blog.

[hwaslayer]

homie, lover, friend. | pmylm drabble (jyh)

⇢ homie, lover, friend. - drabble three // ft. the pmylm couple

summary: when yunho is your homie, your lover and your friend all wrapped into one.

words: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, alcohol consumption and intoxication, club scene, dancing!! twerking buns on yuyu!! 🤌🏼, a very random club drabble because i realized we never got yuyu x oc in the clurb together even though he said he'd go with her 🤓 lol, lots of kisses!!, a quick but intimate shower together, clit play, handjob, tickles!!, theyre just cute iono how else to describe it 😭 ya’ll know that specific clip of the girly feeding her man a shot right lolol & this yuyu outfit in the banner?! ^

on rotation: good times - cristiles & dre b | gift & a curse - megan thee stallion | cloud 11 - thuy

"Happy birthday, Chaery!" You yell loudly with the rest of your friends, raising a shot glass filled to the brim with tequila. Behind you sits Yunho on the high chair, arm loosely wrapped around your waist as he holds the shot glass in the other hand. "Cheers, baby." You turn to the side to tap your glass against his carefully before the both of you take the shot down the neck.

"Fuck." Yunho makes a face, shimmying off the aftertaste as it travels down and warms his tummy. "Gross."

"Here." Yeosang laughs and slides his glass down. "One of you has to take my shot since I'm driving." Yunho looks up at you with doe-eyes, a small smirk on his face.

"I got you." You take the shot, wincing in response.

"Atta girl." Yunho taps your hip and rubs the surface.

"You're definitely still drinking with me when we get there." He gives you a look just as he tuts.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Yunho still isn't a huge fan of drinking, but he will drink and have fun with you— especially since it's always been good times nonetheless. He enjoys seeing you all bubbly and smiley, dancing around with either chips or a plate of food in your hand. It's always becomes one of those moments where he looks at you and automatically thinks:

That's my girl.

And he falls in love all over again.

You giggle at his response and gently grab him by the jaw to kiss him on the lips, laughing when he winces and tastes the tequila lingering on your lips. The pre-game session continues for another 30-mins, you, your friends and Yunho all loudly cheering and having fun as the shots continue. Two turns to three, to four, easily. On the way to Yeosang's car, you're clinging onto Yunho as if your life depended on it. But, he loves every bit of it; loves seeing the way you look up at him like he is the moon, the stars, the planets combined.

Which is crazy, cause that's you to Yunho.

He laughs at how drunk you and your friends are, repeatedly kissing the top of your head and forehead until he helps you into the back seat of Yeosang's car. From the passenger's seat, he reaches back and gives your calf a squeeze, reassuring you that he's here and he's not going anywhere.

"Okay." Yeosang settles into the driver's seat and fixes his rear view mirror. "To my pretty ladies in the back, you have your seat belts on?"

"Yes!" Chaery drunkly yells from the middle seat with a loud giggle, with you and Minnie sandwiching her from the outer seats. "Take us to our destination, please!" Yeosang laughs as he shifts the gear into drive.

"On it, boss." Yeosang salutes. "Just promise me you'll make it inside." He playfully teases.

"Kang Yeosang, of course?! Do you have no hope in me?" Chaery leans over to look at him and poke him on the cheek.

"Wait, turn it up! It's my song!" Minnie yells, resulting in Yunho turning up the volume. Luckily, Yeosang isn't fazed by the how loud the car has gotten [including Yunho]. Truthfully, even as he's driving deep into the city and speeding through lanes, he enjoys the chaos.

It reminds him he's good people on his side.

The club is packed for a Friday night, and it seemed like everyone chose to go to this club in particular to celebrate all sorts of festivities. You've all chipped in for a table, which you're escorted to after getting through the short VIP line. You hold onto Yunho's hand tightly as you navigate through the crowds, having to slightly push and nudge your way across until your group makes it to the table— up a few steps and off to the corner from the crowd. The bottle girls instantly greet your group with sparklers and bottles of tequila and champagne in their hands. Your friends waste no time popping the bottles open, ordering more sodas to chase with in between shots and dancing around the table. You take two more shots to keep your energy up, Yunho allowing you to feed him a shot as he sits and looks up at you with his big, brown eyes; listening to you as him so sexily, yet so politely, to open up.

You're having the time of your life with your friends and your man, celebrating your bestfriend on her birthday. You and Yunho are busy dancing together and singing along to songs despite how silly and loud you both get. Yunho holds your hand as he belches out the songs or raps along— feeling himself like he's a 90s music video and you're the love interest he's trying to pursue. You laugh and you laugh, pressing your body close to his after he serenades you just to tippy-toe and kiss him on the lips. He sways you along, the both of you singing together as he wraps his arms around you and presses kisses to your temple.

You realize there's not one day [besides that silly little fight] that you're not smiling over Yunho. He never fails.

Other times, he has you bent over by the rail, gripping your hips, while you throw your ass back or is sitting back against the velvet, watching as you work your hips against him to Megan's Gift & A Curse blasting through the club speakers. Chaery and the rest of your friends are busy making their rounds between each other and on the general dance floor— meeting new people and even exchanging numbers with a few cuties they meet. You and Yunho cheer Yeosang on while you observe from the couches, watching as he dances with a new face on the dance floor, exchanging numbers with her shortly afterwards. Yunho can't help but look at you in pure admiration, large hands resting on your highs as you sit on his lap. You're in a white miniskirt, a black off the shoulder top and black knee-high boots; promise ring sitting on your hand. And god, Yunho thinks you're gorgeous.

You're always so damn gorgeous.

"Baby." Yunho says near your ear, causing you to turn slightly to face him and wrap your arms around him.

"Yeah?"

"You having fun?"

"I am. Are you?" He smiles and presses a chaste kiss to your jaw.

"Yeah." He continues to look at you through hooded lids, top teeth subtly biting onto his bottom lip. "C'mere." He squeezes at your thigh, cutely puckering his lips at you. You giggle and give him what he's asking for, licking into his mouth and kissing him deeply as if you two were alone in his room and not at the club. "Can't wait to get you home, all to myself."

"Yeah? For what, hm?" You continue to peck him with little, repeated kisses, biting onto your lip when you feel his lips graze your cheek. Gently nibbling at the surface before kissing you.

"Don't do that." He chuckles against your neck, lightly kissing you in your favorite spot below your earlobe. "You know exactly what."

"Yunho." You squeal, feeling his hand come to grab at your ass.

"My favorite lovebirds!" Seungmin plops next to you two on the couch, pouring himself some water from the carafe sitting on the table in front. 

"How's the dance floor?" Yunho pries himself from your neck to turn to him with a smile.

"Fucking crowded. But fun! I'm tired, though. Need a second to just breathe." You both laugh.

"Got a few numbers, I see." Seungmin blushes as he takes a sip.

"Sooo, when can we expect wedding invitations?" Seungmin does a full 360 with his response, and Yunho hugs you a little tighter.

"I mean, if it were up to me, it would've happened already." 

"Aye!" Seungmin drunkly yells, instantly pouring him and Yunho a shot to gobble down. At this point, Chaery comes to pull you off of Yunho's lap and bring you to the dance floor. You, the girls, Jongho, Hyunjin and Yeonjun are dancing in the middle of the floor, singing your hearts out to the song. You spot Yunho standing with Seungmin, Yeosang and a few others against the rail near the table. You cutely point at him and continue to sing at the top of your lungs in this loud ass club, but all he sees, hears, is you. The entire time, Yunho keeps his eyes on you because it's all about you—

It's always been about you.

Everything is you, Yunho is wrapped up in you; his homie, lover, friend.

And even as the night goes on, even as Yunho's energy dwindles, he still finds himself getting by because he has you. The group stays right until closing at 2am, your friends are still riding the waves, the good vibes, even as you exit the club. You tightly lace your hand with Yunho's as you bounce along to the music blasting from the nearby bars on the way to the car. You all make your way to the nearest convenience store to grab snacks to fulfill your drunchies before heading back home to the complex. Yeosang and Yunho make sure to help walk Chaery and Minnie back to your place for the night before you tag along to their unit. 

"My feet are killing me, ugh!" You groan, still sobering up from the night. You quickly pop off your boots and toss them aside before letting out a satisfied sigh. "Oh my god. Freedom." Yeosang snorts.

"Should've brought your crocs to change into after."

"I know, huh." You respond before heading into Yunho's room to grab a shirt to change into. "Sorry, I'm gonna call dibs on your shower." Yunho and Yeosang laugh.

"Go for it." Yeosang says, giving Yunho a look. "Think that's an invitation from your girl."

"We won't be long." Yunho laughs a bit, grabbing himself some clothes before following you into the bathroom.

"Uh huh." Yeosang laughs, chugging some water while leaning onto the kitchen counter to indulge in his ramen and snacks.

When Yunho steps inside, you've already stripped out of your clothes, body under the running hot water. You barely notice him come in until he slides the door open and joins you, hands immediately coming to your waist to pull you against him.

"Where was my invite, pretty girl?" His voice is husky, deep, right by your ear.

"Sorry, Yuyu. I thought you knew it was an automatic invite." He chuckles.

"Is that so?"

"Mhm." You hum. You continue to lather your body in body wash, Yunho's lips coming down to your shoulders. His hands are now trailing down your arms, caressing them as he continues to lay gentle kisses across your shoulder blades. His hands come up your front to help rinse your body, large hands massaging your breasts and earning a small content sigh from you. His hands roam further down, fingers gently rubbing at your heat in slow, circular motions. He nibbles on your shoulder before coming up to your earlobe, letting you guide his hand as he rubs your clit just the way you want it. And everything about it seems so beautifully filthy; the way you work yourself against his hand and desperately chase your high without him even being inside of you. Yunho's so fucking hard just watching you get off this way. 

"Oh my god—" Is all you can even put out before Yunho's covering your mouth with his other hand, the other still going into overtime on your core until he feels you wriggle and writhe, twitch in his grip.

"Shh." He says with a small smile before kissing your cheek. As much as he loves to hear you call for him and moan for him the way you usually do, he finds it better that you shouldn't while Yeosang is just sitting a few feet away in the kitchen. "Kinda hot seeing you cum just like that."

"Yunho." You whine.

"What, baby? Just wanted to take care of you somehow." He licks his lips.

"My turn then, hm?" You turn to face him, helping lather his body in return. When you finish, he takes his hand in yours and kisses your fingers, your knuckles. You cup his cheeks, kissing your man slowly, sensually. Taking all of him in, letting you both just be in this moment. But of course, you can't help yourself, especially with how much you're yearning for Yunho. You find your hand traveling down to his hardened length, stroking his long, hard cock at a steady pace. You watch as his head tilts back against the cold tile, eyes shut as he huffs and releases a shaky exhale. His moans are quiet, low. You pick up the pace ever so slightly and Yunho almost whines in your grip. You press kisses against his wet neck, biting at the base and on his collarbone.

"Fuck—mm'baby." He hisses. "Feels too good, gonna make me cum." You continue to coo him, praising him for how good he is to you, how good he's being for you, up until the very moment he releases his seed all over your abdomen and pussy. His chest rises and falls in an attempt to regulate his breathing, eyes hazy, body feeling euphoric. "You're too good at that, princess." You giggle.

"Could say the same for you." He gently smacks your ass as you turn back to the water to wash up again.

"Yeah, we should probably finish up so Yeo can get in here." He chuckles, quickly washing off the rest of the soap on his body while continuing to tease and poke fun at you in between.

After the shower, you plop onto the floor next to Yunho's bed, ripping your chips open while Yunho boils some hot water for your ramen bowls. You pull up My Love Story w/ Yamada-kun at Lvl999, a show that Yunho knows you've been heavily watching. He'll pop in and catch up when he's with you, but most of the time, he's sitting back and observing how your eyes glow, listening to your little gasps and squeals during the episodes.

"Here." Yunho sits criss-crossed next to you and hands you your bowl. "It's hot, love."

"Thank you." You smile at him and carefully take the bowl. "Your hair." You tease, running your hand through Yunho's ends poking out.

"Hey, I told you it gets like this when I don't dry it properly." You giggle, now threading through his fluffy hair. 

"S'cute." You start mixing your ramen more with your chopsticks, eyes glued back onto the screen. Suddenly, Yunho gasps at how good his ramen tastes, causing you to shift your attention back to him. "What?!"

"It's so good." You laugh loudly in response to his full cheeks.

"I'm glad you're enjoying." You begin to eat your own, nodding in approval.

"Remember that one time? Someone, I'm not entirely sure who, woke me up at 5am to catch the sunrise."

"Oh, you don't know who?"

"No, I don't." Yunho teases. 

"That's a shame. I'm sure she remembers you well."

"Yeah, I dunno." He continues. "She was cute, though. She kinda looked like my future—"

"Then go be with her and ask her to catch the damn sunrise again!" He laughs, gently shoving your food away before tackling you and tickling you to the ground. You squeal and bite him on the shoulder, pleading him to let you go before you accidentally kick him where you shouldn't.

He does, eventually.

He's on top of you, and he just stops and stares. You're not exactly sure what's going through his mind right now, but you know the one thing going through your own mind and that's:

"I love you." You say softly. Yunho continues to look at you before he gives you a tired but sweet toothless smile.

"I love you, too." Now, you can't help but stare at him and his features. Cause lord, if he only knew how deep, how madly in love you are with him. 

"No, but like, I really love you."

"I really love you too, Y/N." He chuckles. You truly hope he understands just how deep your love runs for him.

He, who knows every single detail about you and remembers flawlessly.

He, who you look forward to spending time with over and over again.

He, who loves you so tenderly, so carefully, so beautifully.

He, who takes care of every inch of your body because your body is a temple.

He, who you want and need first on both good days and bad days.

He, your homie, lover, friend.

⇢ permanent taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk

[remotewatch]

for this simp I have no sympathy 💳🏃‍♀️

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 3.5k wc

summary: Jack’s a great boss. He doesn’t care how often you work remote, the benefits are actually competitive, and he lets you run up his Amex as long as you’ll spit in his coffee. Wait, what?

cw: shameless smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), sugaring, inappropriate workplace dynamics, findom, submissive loser jack, ooc (he’s at the office), spit kink, semi public sex?, he calls the reader a bitch but doesn’t mean it, somehow a plot snuck in here, def needs a part 2 eventually

AN: this one goes out to @augustghosts !!! Happy happy birthday and thank you for matching my freak mwah

minors dni pls I don’t want y’all thinking this is realistic or healthy

It’s a technically perfect relationship, as much as you’re aware of the risk of it all going to shit at any moment. Somehow that thought always pops back up at the jewelry counter. Your eyes trace aloofly over the puddles of diamonds littering the cobalt velvet tray before you and finally land on a comparatively understated anklet.

“I’ll take this one, please.”

“Excellent choice, madam.”

You waste no time shoving the evidence of your purchases into an overstuffed trash can prior to slipping the anklet on and dashing to the coffee shop closest to your building. As you wait outside, you can’t help but wonder if you’re visible from Jack’s office. You absolutely are, and he’s been glued to his window like a creep trying to pick your hair out of the crowd since the moment you left, but there’s no way for you to know that.

The line moves faster than usual, and, soon enough, you’re balancing 4 orders of varying sizes with your work tote in one hand and carefully removing the lid of Jack’s cup with the other. Black with half a pump of sugar free vanilla and the massive glob of spit you deposit in there as you traverse the crosswalk.

It had started rather innocuously, and you probably wouldn’t have ever picked up on anything if he didn’t have such an awful poker face. There was a work dinner, some dick of an exec retiring, and out of the corner of your eye you’d spotted Jack placing his personal card in with his company one when the bill came around. That was a little weird. It was much weirder that he looked like you’d caught him pissing in the break room sink when he realized you’d noticed.

Once you had, it was hard not to spot the gunmetal edge of his black card peeking out from under the company one at every single outing, though you made a point to feign ignorance. You’d asked one of your coworkers about it after you had to skip one night to visit family, but she was just as clueless as you felt.

“I was sitting next to him the whole night. He only used one card,” That forced you to backpedal and pretend you must have been mistaken; no sense in drumming up gossip before getting to the bottom of whatever it was.

Still, work was work, and things had been so hectic that the guilty look on Jack’s face had nearly faded from your memory by the time you came storming off the elevator two weeks later, drenched from forgetting your umbrella, one heel broken, and late for the first time since you’d been hired. You’d been so focused on wringing out your sweater that you had no chance of hearing or seeing him round the corner until he was already crashing into you and spilling (thankfully) lukewarm coffee down the both of you. If that didn’t push you over the edge, his attempt at a joke to lighten the situation certainly did.

“God, Jack, is everything a fucking game to you?! Fuck off!!” came flying out before you could stop it. Your only saving grace was that your entire team was already in a meeting across the floor, but that didn’t stop you from retreating to the bathroom and leaving him no time to say anything.

You were so beyond screwed. You’d busted your ass to get this job and had completely blown it over spilled coffee of all things. By the time you’d dried yourself to a somewhat acceptable level and crept over to the closed door of his corner office, the stomach-dropping dread of plunging back into the job market was already settling in.

There’s a weird clatter when you knock, and Jack looks the slightest bit frazzled when he opens the door, a few curls of his usually annoyingly perfect hair sticking up on one side.

“Can I apologize?” He stifles the smirk that’s tugging at the corners of his mouth like he’s afraid you’ll scream at him again.

“You don’t need to apologize, but sure. Come in.” At any other time, you’d feel dangerously comfortable in his office. It’s not corporate at all: so packed with weathered sunshine-smelling afghans and little wooden beach trinkets that seem to multiply every time you leave that it feels more like an antique store than a place of business. Today, the sight of it all makes you nauseous as you try to do damage control.

Thankfully, he cuts you off before the stammering mess of a groveling attempt unravels completely.

“Really, it’s fine. Do you think I can afford to fire anyone right now?”

“I guess not?”

He can’t quite conceal a wince when he sees the puddle you’re leaving on the carpet despite your best efforts.

“Well, you can’t work all day dressed like that. Would you go across the street and let me get you something new? I’ll call and tell them you’re coming.”

“Jack, I’m not going to Loro Piana for a change of clothes. It’s one day, it’ll be fine-“

“Please? And then we can forget all about this and just focus.” Fuck. His mouth looks so good asking nicely. The implications are not lost on you, that you’re crossing a VERY stark line here, but the way he’s looking at you with those perfect fucking doe eyes has your brain buzzing too loudly to care as much as you probably should.

The staff are even more attentive than you’d expect, to an almost unnerving degree. You’ve barely set one foot in the door before your coat and bag are lifted off you and you’re whisked up to one of their VIC suites. There’s already a rack waiting for you, but the sales associate’s not so subtle mention of a shower in the suite seizes your attention. Even though it’s only ten minutes, the water pressure and whatever is in that body wash make you feel like you’ve fast forwarded through a week at the spa. When you step out and look around for your old outfit, you’re timidly informed that they’ve been taken to the dry cleaner as per the cardholder’s request.

“Oh, yes. Thank you, I must have forgotten,” you mutter in a deeply unconvincing attempt to give the impression you’ve been in a dressing room this nice before. As tempting as it is to thumb through all of your options, you can’t afford to waste any more time and throw on the first two pieces on the rack: an ecru knit trouser and short sleeved sweater set. One of the price tags flips over as you tug them from their hangers, and you have to take a deep breath to stave off the tunnel vision the number on it inspires.

Of course, they both fit perfectly and feel like an absolute dream. As soon as you begin to move towards the door, the same sales associate pipes up again.

“Mr. Schlossberg mentioned that you were also interested in some leather goods. Is that still the case?” You turn to see a massive array of belts atop a disgustingly ornate glass (or is that crystal?) table along the back wall with a dozen pairs each of coordinating loafers, oxfords, and pumps underneath. A small sliver of guilt turns over in your gut; you really shouldn’t, but fuck it, that line has already been crossed, and you can’t even pretend it’s a difficult decision.

“Yes, I was! Thank you so much for reminding me!”

She helps you settle on a pair of gleaming chestnut loafers with a narrow matching belt, and you choose not to dwell on how Jack knows your exact clothing and shoe size.

You hate how much of a spring it puts in your step as you hurry back across the street. The meeting is somehow still going on, so you quickly pop over to Jack’s office to thank him again and definitely not to show off how sweet your ass looks in these pants.

You’re so ecstatic from the whiplash of remaining employed after telling your boss to fuck off right to his face that you stupidly swing his door open without knocking first.

Jack slams his laptop shut, but the audio pause is delayed, and the there’s nowhere for him to hide as its speakers blare out clear as day:

“-my perfect good boy. Give me all your cum. Yeah, you’re my favorite ATM.”

The secondhand embarrassment is absolutely brutal, so you imagine his stomach is falling out of his ass right about now. He purses his lips together as he stands up painfully slow, fingertips pressed to the desk so hard they’ve lost color. God, he’s never this quiet. By the time he stalks over to your side of the desk and leans back against it, your heart is pounding so erratically you think you might drop dead right there on his pashmina rug. The new outfit suddenly feels heavier, like every wordless second he spends squinting at you adds a few ounces to the knit. Your suppressed sigh of relief forces its way out of your nose when the next words out of Jack’s mouth aren’t “go pack your desk”.

“Do you plan on telling anyone about that?” His expression is totally unreadable and it’s freaking you out; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him completely serious, even in the most dire of time crunches.

“No. Am I still getting fired?” This time, Jack lets a smile bloom across his face like he couldn’t stamp it down if he tried.

“I don’t think I could ever bring myself to do that.”

Once again, some would say stupidly, your relief emboldens you.

“Why do you use two cards when we all go out?”

He gives your outfit a slow once over that would be repulsive coming from anyone else before glancing at the idle laptop, then back at you with a sprinkle of condescension mixed with his normal charisma.

“I like buying you shit.”

The frankness of it all is embarrassingly hot.

“And it doesn’t feel the same using the company card?”

“Not at all.”

That sliver of guilt is back, but it feels more obligatory than genuine. It’s currently being steamrolled by carnal curiosity.

“Why do you like it?” Jack’s eyes are practically sparkling with anticipation as he glances down.

“Why didn’t you turn down the belt?”

He presses his luck when you hesitate to respond. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying nice things, you know.” Still, nothing, so he strolls over to the floor safe and hands you a bulging cash envelope from its contents.

“For your rent, or whatever. So you know I’m serious. You don’t have to do anything else, but I want to ask for one favor before you get back to work.”

Your throat dries up, and your expression must betray your assumption and feelings because he’s quickly correcting you with a small chuckle:

“No, not that,” as he’s twisting the lid off his thermos and handing it to you. That’s weird, but whatever. You’ll happily take drinking out of his mug over bruising your throat if it comes down to it. Jack gently pushes the rim down away from your mouth with two spread fingers when you go to take a sip.

“Would you spit in it? Please?” This time, you don’t give your doubts a chance to articulate themselves.

It hits the insulated inner wall with a shrill ping and drips slowly down into Jack’s coffee, and before you have a chance to fuck this up, you’re forcing the tumbler back into his hands and retreating to the doorway, envelope clutched in a death grip.

“You have a call at eleven. It’ll become my problem if you’re late again, so maybe figure something out.” you suggest on your way out. Just as the door clicks shut, you fail to stop yourself from turning back and get an eyeful of him swirling the mixture like he’s at a wine tasting and gulping it down in one shot.

Your new arrangement develops rather quickly after that. Now that he’s no longer trying to conceal his interests, Jack is practically falling at your feet whenever the two of you are alone. The rest of the team is already used to you showing up early and staying late, so what difference does it make in their eyes if you’re actually doing work or dragging him around his office by his tie and beating a raise out of him with his own shoes? Initially, you shy away from indulging as much as he’d like and keep your authorized user status just for groceries, rent, the boring shit. It’s not until the first time he sits you down in his chair with his laptop open and tells you not to stop shopping until you’re squeezing his tongue that you allow yourself to see the real appeal of having an unlimited credit line. He’s already got your info on autofill; god, what a thoughtful little freak, you think as you book recurring massage after manicure after private museum tour after clearing out your Bergdorf cart. The digits and commas are blurring before your eyes as you struggle to navigate the Cartier homepage, and soon you’re just clicking add to cart on anything that slightly catches your attention. You cursor twitches once, twice, in time with the unrelenting work of his fingers (he refuses to roll up his sleeves, says he loves you sticking to his cuff links), but you manage to click purchase all before focusing your full attention on your incoming orgasm.

Jack tugs his phone out to check his pending charges without letting your clit slip from between his lips, and the elated moan he lets vibrate through you when he sees the final total has you drenching him down to his shirt collar.

Since he’s always this desperate, it’s hard to play along with the little song and dance he does of pretending you need to rein it in. You have to bite your tongue to not laugh and just say “no problem!” every time he requests that you please stay within budget today after his first sip of spit coffee. Obviously, there’s never been one; the only parameter you give yourself is a minimum of two supremely gaudy purchases per week for him to “notice” so you can get the ball rolling. Like today. Your new heels are hideous and feel like they’re lined with steel wool, but they fulfill their duty of catching the attention that was already yours to begin with.

“Those aren’t the shoes you had on this morning.” You don’t even glance up from your monitor.

“Nope.”

“When did you find time to go to Saks again?”

This time, you give him a look like he’s 500 years old and couldn’t rotate a pdf to save his life.

“I was working remote from their cafe. The chairs are really nice.”

“Yeah, they’re real nice in my office, too.” It’s clearly not a suggestion.

As per usual, you elect to sit on Jack’s desk just to needle him. When he lifts your leg to get a better look at the new heels, his nose crinkles up in disgust.

“These things will fuck up your back.”

“They’re car to table only, you should know that.” Your other foot swings around to tuck against his sacrum and nudge him in between your legs.

He’s trying his best to act upset, but you can feel his dick throbbing through his slacks.

“How much did you spend today?” You make a big show of pretending to think for a moment.

“I’m not sure. More than you made?”

“You fucking bitch,” And that second leg is shooting up between you and kicking him back hard enough that he bumps into the filing cabinet.

“I ought to report you to HR for that.” only then does he notice the anklet, glinting wickedly under the soft amber lights. Jack pulls your foot closer and with frighteningly little effort nearly tugs you straight off his desk.

“Is this new, too? How much?” He’s got the same look on his face as when his manners are wearing thin on the phone, all carefully applied nonchalance ruined by the the ravenous impatience in his eyes.

“Ten,” and he straight up shudders. He presses the cool platinum against his cheek, and his eyes slip closed as he jerkily ruts against you. Through three layers of fabric, you can still feel every bend in his pulsing underside vein.

“You didn’t think to ask me first?”

“Why would I? It’s my money.” The choked up sob that spills out of him is abruptly morphed into an irritated groan by a knock at the door.

“Fuck, I can’t deal with this. Get rid of it.”

He’s plunked you into his chair and scuttled under the desk well before you can remind him that that’s not in your job description. Jack pulls your seat close enough to shove his nose right into your cameltoe just as the door swings open and one of your least amicable clients comes stomping in.

“Where the hell is he?! First it was ‘email me in a month’, now his direct line calls are getting dropped! My intern had to show me his fucking Instagram to prove that he was even in town!” And he keeps going, but you struggle to register any of it over Jack ever so politely licking you over your stockings like he’s taken you out for a lovely date first and not at all like he’s using you as a human shield to deflect this moron.

“I’m sorry. He’s not currently available.” Jack vacuums your clit right into his mouth at that, rolling and twisting his tongue over it like it’s a goddamn ring pop.

“That’s a load of horseshit. John’s never worked hard enough to be this fucking unreachable. Where is he?!” Normally, you’d be at least a little concerned about how close this guy looks to throttling you for your boss’s location, but the way Jack’s cheeks stick and unstick to your thighs as he rocks his head as best he can in the confined space is diverting most of your attention.

“I understand your frustration, sir,” your customer service voice wavers as he relentlessly sucks you through the fabric. “But there’s simply nothing I can do. Mr. Schlossberg is in meetings for the rest of the day and specifically asked not to be disturbed.” You press a warning foot against his dick, and he groans so loud you’re forced to squeeze your thighs around his head and cough to muffle it. Luckily, the client is too far up his own ass to notice.

“This is outrageous! He can’t just blow everyone off forever because his name is on the fucking building!”

“Your concerns are duly noted. Can I help you with anything else?” He’s already halfway out the door.

“Oh, go fuck yourself!” is yelled half at you, half in hope that Jack is in earshot. As soon as the door slams, you’re scooting backwards and pulling him after you by his shirt. Not that you’d have to, as he’s crawling to chase you across the carpet until you’re pressed right up against the floor to ceiling windows and white knuckling his armrests.

“Wolford doesn’t make these anymore!” you protest when he shreds your tights down the middle to lick you properly. You feel more than hear him laugh in response, and you swear you also detect a muffled “womp womp”. He always fingers you like shining up your seat is the whole point, like he’s only doing this to get to crudely lap and slurp the results up from under you just to spit them back onto your clit. You’re beginning to suspect he only took up bouldering to improve their endurance for you.

Jack finally relents when you twist both hands deep into his hair and drag him off of you. It’s gone curlier around the edges from his efforts, and paired with the overly dramatic lip smack and megawatt smile he hits you with, you can’t even pretend to be annoyed.

“You don’t seem that broken up about it.” He presses one more kiss to your clit before standing up and turning back to the file on his desk without missing a beat.

“Anyway, T&G wants this cleaned up by Thursday, so we should probably get back to it.” There’s no way he’s serious; he’s just trying to rile you up by pacing around, yapping and aimlessly shuffling papers with bubbles of saliva and pussy juice sliding down his face, but you hate that it works so well. Before you realize what you’re doing, you’ve wrapped your fingers around Jack’s tie and abruptly pulled him back down onto all fours, sending the unstapled proposal scattering across the floor.

“Nothing will happen to our portfolio if you just shut the fuck up for five minutes,” He’s all too eager to screw the rest of the day’s schedule when he rests his chin between your legs on the chair’s seat and grins cheekily up at you.

“Only five?”

[callmebrycelee]

HAPPY 28TH BIRTHDAY, MEGAN THEE STALLION!!!

[shaunashipman]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEGAN THEE STALLION!

↳@lgbtqcreators bingo | LGBTQ Celeb

[atlantisview]

Happy Birthday to Megan Thee Stallion ❣️