#magic mike au

[flowery-mess]

That was sweet, hot, cute and I need more🙂‍↕️

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒… 02

Summary: When you were convinced to visit a male strip club, you didn’t anticipate that the guy you locked eyes with on stage and who subsequently pulled you up for a routine, would turn out to be the same guy whose roommate advert you’d be responding to less than 24 hours later.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: slight mentions of smut in context of a sex dream, suggestive undertones because himbo!noah.

WC: 5.4k.

AN: Alright, so I’m not sure how many parts this will have. All I know is that this is for fun I hope you enjoy Noah being a lovable himbo.

Dividers: silent-stories.

Fic Masterlist

All your worldly possessions, once crammed into a studio apartment, are now scattered across the front lawn of your new home. “Home sweet home,” you mutter to yourself and approach the nearest box, reaching for it before a pair of large, tattooed hands swoops in and snatches it away.

“Hey!” you scold before glancing up and meeting Noah standing before you.

In all honesty, you had assumed that he was at the club all day today. That’s what he had told you when you sent him a text to inform him that you were moving in today—your eviction was finally here, and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough after your former landlord’s son started making strange and suggestive comments about a potential ‘arrangement’ that you would allow you to stay. You only hope he likes the big “fuck you, you elitist cumquat” sign you left on your door, along with your eviction notice.

In hindsight, it was perhaps not your wisest decision, as amusing as it had seemed in the moment. Either way, it was done now, and you were here, ready to confront Noah because you hadn’t asked for his help, yet here he was.

“I thought that you were at the club today?”

“I thought I told you I would come and help you with your stuff when you arrived.”

“You don’t have it,” you insist, but he holds the box out of your reach as you try to grab it again, turning away from you.

“Too late.” He grins and turns towards the house, making his way across the lawn. “Besides, what kind of roommate would I be if I didn’t help you with your stuff?” He calls back to you, but his voice barely reaches your ears because for a moment, you become transfixed on the sight of his back.

Your eyes settle on his broad shoulders, noticing how the black tank top he wears, tucked into his pants and looking a size too small, accentuates his bulging biceps.

It’s when you hear a chorus of “hellos” that you snap out of your thoughts, realizing your name is being called as you watch the rest of the Magic Mike crew, including your new roommates Jolly and Davis, carrying boxes themselves up towards the house.

As he passes by, Folio pauses briefly, glancing at you with a playful grin. “You have a little…” he gestures towards the corner of his mouth, and you instinctively raise your hand to your own, feeling a faint trickle of saliva.

Had you really been drooling over your new roommate?

You shake your head, because that’s a new level of insanity, even for you, yet you can’t stop your mind from reverting to those bulging biceps and the exhilarating sensation of experiencing them up close. You recall the feeling of his arms enveloping you as he bounced you on his waist, treating you as a mere prop for entertainment, including his own.

“Focus,” you grumble to yourself, refusing to let your thoughts become clouded and consumed by this man. Regardless of how hot he is, you weren’t about to make yourself foolish for him.

Despite your attempts to protest the guys helping you move your stuff, they were all ignored. Between them, they managed to move everything from the lawn to your new room in under two hours.

By the time you’re carrying the final box to your new room, Noah is the only one left inside, leaning over the bed as he finishes assembling it.

“Would you like to test it?” he asks, glancing across the room at you standing in the doorway, patting the mattress as an invitation for you to come over. Your eyes widen in response.

“Excuse me?” You blink rapidly, momentarily doubting whether you had actually heard him correctly.

“The bed. Would you like to test it?”

Is he propositioning you right now?

“Uh…” you slowly lower the box onto the floor before crossing your room and settling onto the edge of the bed.

For a moment, he simply looks up at you from the floor, having shifted down to sitting on his knees at the side of the bed.

“Bounce on it then!” he gestures for you to bounce on the mattress, causing your eyes to widen and your face to flush.

Oh god, you think. Does he actually realize how he sounds?

Then, Noah leans on the mattress and starts bounce it with his hands to encourage you, and finally, you give in and comply.

“You need to do it better than that!” He pushes himself up from the floor and climbs onto the edge of the mattress, sitting next to you. With a bit more force, he bounces, causing you to bounce along with him.

“Noah!” you squeal, breaking into a fit of laughter, Noah joining in with you.

There soon comes a squeaking sound from the bed and a banging against the wall from the headboard before they eventually come to a stop as Noah’s bouncing subsides.

“There. I don’t think that’ll collapse anytime soon,” he triumphantly declares, looking down at you with that dopey, lopsided grin that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.

Oh, living here is going to be dangerous.

“What are you doing sitting down here in the dark like you’re Winnie the Pooh?” Noah’s voice jolts you out of your skin as you sit on the edge of the kitchen counter, surrounded by darkness.

“Oh god! You startled me.” You laugh, raising your hand to your chest before regaining your composure enough to respond to his comment. “Winnie the Pooh?” You ask, and as the light flickers on when he flips the switch, you blink your eyes, adjusting to the brightness.

“Well, you’re sitting here, just stuffing your hand into a jar of honey.” He gestures towards the jar in your hand, and you pause for a moment, looking down to realize you’ve been caught red-handed, literally, with your hand inside the honey jar.

“I couldn’t find a spoon, so I just…” You shrug, slowly raising your finger to your mouth and licking off the honey coating.

Instead of responding, Noah extends his hand towards the jar you’re holding as he takes a step closer to you, closing the gap between you.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You attempt to pull away the jar of honey from Noah as he reaches for it, his larger hand enveloping yours.

“You read the ad didn't you?”

“Yeah…” your brow raises slightly.

“What’s yours is mine, remember?”

“Are you serious?” You scoff.

“I’m always serious when food is involved.”

For a fleeting moment, Noah’s eyes meet yours, and you instinctively try to pull the jar away.

Before he can reach into it, you quickly lick your finger once more and then dip it straight into the honey, as if you were a child playing a claim game, hoping it would somehow deter him.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t. Noah reaches for your wrist instead, pulling your finger out of the jar and bringing it towards his mouth. He takes your finger into his mouth as he licks and sucks off the honey. Your eyes widen instantly, and your jaw drops slightly. Was this really happening right now?

“Mmm, that’s sweet,” he remarks, gently releasing your finger from his mouth.

Dear God, this man is going to either kill you or drive you to the brink of insanity.

Briefly, your eyes flicker towards the boarded-up doggy door, and you can’t help but understand why someone might be driven to such extreme measures by this man. The charisma he exudes feels almost too good to be true. Surely, he was aware of it?

“Like honey,” he adds with a grin, as if he were proud of that joke.

Suddenly, whatever bubble you had been in bursts, and you roll your eyes, laughing. “Hilarious, ten out of ten!” you exclaim, while his wide grin remains fixed on his face, the same goofy grin that sends a fluttering sensation through your stomach.

“Wait until you hear my Winnie the Pooh impression.” He nods, reaching for the jar of honey once more, only for you to pull it away from him.

“Do it, and I might consider allowing you to have some.”

“You’ll let me double dip with you?”

“I don’t think…” You abruptly stop yourself, noticing the expression of doubt in his eyes before shaking your head. “Yeah, sure.”

Clearing his throat, he puffs out his chest as if searching for the perfect embodiment of the character.

“Oh, bother.”

A moment of silence passes as you press your lips together, trying to stay composed before bursting into laughter, shaking your head. “Please do that again.”

“What? Oh, bother.” The voice is almost exactly like the beloved childhood character, so much so that you can’t help but burst into fits of giggles, tears welling up in your eyes as he continues on, making silly little comments in the same voice, but also with the cadence and manner that Pooh would.

After a few moments of catching your breath, when your defenses are down, he swiftly slides in and snatches the jar from your grasp. Instinctively, you try to reach out and kick him, but his quick reflexes allow him to dodge your attack. As he chuckles to himself, he waddles back over to the stairs and disappears up them.

Reaching your room, you collapse onto the bed, trying to push aside the thoughts that had been conjured up by the seemingly innocent yet suggestive act of Noah licking honey off your finger.

As you feel yourself slipping off to sleep, a knock at the door startles you. Rolling over, you grumble lowly before pushing yourself out of bed and heading towards your bedroom door. “Noah, I swear…”

Opening the door, you’re met with Noah standing there, holding up his long index finger, which is coated in what you can only assume is honey. “I thought it was only fair that you got to suck some off mine,” he says with a mischievous grin.

A breath catches in your throat as he raises his finger to your lips, and your heart races in your chest. You should push him away, refuse, and slam the door shut. But instead, your lips instinctively part and take his finger between them. Your tongue rolls around the length of it as you try to swipe off the honey.

You couldn’t imagine a more erotic scene—sucking honey from his finger just like you had yours, low moans reverberating in your throat.

Before you can even think, Noah pulls his finger away from between your lips and replaces it with the clash of his mouth against yours. His tongue presses into your mouth, eager to taste you as well as the sweetness of the honey he had just shared with you.

“Fuck, Noah!” You gasp into his mouth as his teeth sink into your lower lip, tugging gently. Both of you stumble backward towards the bed, and when you crash into it, you quickly pull him on top of you.

His arms settle either side of you, caging you in, before he starts to pull away, kisses traveling down your neck, collarbone, and then your chest, brushing against the fabric of your tank top before he settles down between your thighs, his fingers hooking onto the waistband of your shorts and tugging them off.

With you spread before him, you gasp, your chest pounding and breathing erratic as you peer down at him between your thighs. His eyes marvel over you, as if he’s savoring every inch of you. With a gentle kiss to the crease of your knee, he slowly begins to work his way along the inner of your thigh before pausing, raising his head just enough to gaze at you once more.

“This bear’s got a craving… and only your honeypot can satisfy it.” he murmurs before you watch him descend between your thighs.

At the moment of contact with his mouth, your back arches, and a soft gasp of his name escapes your lips as you reach down to bury your fingers through his tousled dark locks, tugging him closer.

It arrives within seconds, the familiar wave of pleasure that surges through every part of your body and as you bask in that euphoria, you’re jolted awake by the incessant buzzing of a loud alarm.

“What the hell?” you grumble, half-asleep, your hand instinctively searching around the bed to find the source of the noise, before landing on your phone and knocking it off.

It takes a few moments to realize that you’d been dreaming the entire thing. It felt so real, yet there’s no evidence that Noah was in your bed. When you lift the covers to check, you’re still fully dressed in your usual tank top and sleep shorts.

Rolling over, you bury your face into your pillow, trying to push away the hot flush of embarrassment that creeps up on you. You just had a wild sex dream about your roommate. Not only that, but it was incredibly hot, and somehow, he made a silly Winnie the Pooh reference sound incredibly sexy.

Winnie the Pooh. You blame his little impression from last night on that one. Somehow, it had entered your dreams. None of this was how you actually felt, surely.

Deciding to shake off both your dream and these absurd thoughts, you push yourself up and out of bed.

Slipping out of your room, you pause briefly to look towards Noah’s closed door and listen for any sound indicating he’s inside.

It’s quiet, upstairs at least.

From downstairs, a commotion of voices can be heard, some more familiar than others. Slowly, you begin making your way down the stairs, but halt when you come face-to-face with a group of half-naked men standing in your living room, each of them applying varying amounts of baby oil to their bodies.

“Am I still dreaming?” you mumble to yourself, but soon feel a body push past you and turn to see Davis.

“Sorry, we didn’t wake you did we?”

“No, I don’t think so.” You shake your head, your gaze returning to the unfolding scene and watching how each man was meticulously preparing themselves. “Am I missing something?”

“Bryan’s here for a shoot today. Since it’s easier, we work from home.”

Suddenly, it becomes evident when your gaze shifts to the equipment laid out—the various black cases and lighting equipment, as well as a green screen. The spacious living room is wide enough, and you almost feel foolish that you hadn’t noticed it initially.

Of course, your eyes had to naturally gravitate towards the half-naked men.

As you turn to head back upstairs, Noah calls out to you. “Hey, could you help me with my back?”

You pause, glancing at him holding out the bottle of baby oil towards you. You’re tempted to ask if any of the other guys could help him instead.

Taking a deep breath, you nod in agreement. “Sure.” Then, you step down from the last step and approach Noah, taking the bottle from his hand.

“Just get it all over, and don’t hesitate to lather up a few times. We need the camera to capture it.”

“Okay,” you manage to say, your voice slightly trembling as you watch him turn around. There, on his back, is a large and vibrant Jesus tattoo. It piques your curiosity, yet you can’t help but be mesmerized by the sheer size of his back. Your hand instinctively reaches up, as if to touch the broad muscles of his shoulders.

One movement has him flexing his back muscles, muscles you could’ve sworn you’ve never seen move on anyone else before. At that moment, a breath catches in your throat, and flashes of your vivid dream resurface. As a result, you squeeze the bottle of baby oil with such force that the clear liquid squirts out, some even splattering across Noah’s back.

There’s a soft, hushed chuckle that ripples through the group before your head turns to Folio’s direction as he speaks. “Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us,” he says with a cheeky grin that seems to suggest he can read your mind.

As you feel your face flush, you try to play it cool and clear your throat. “I need some fresh air.” You drop the bottle on the nearby coffee table, turn on your heel, and cross over to the front door. Grabbing your jacket from the coat rack, you slip it on and step outside.

There’s only a light chill, but it’s more for your modesty, since you’re still dressed in your sleepwear. Your plan isn’t to venture far, just hang around outside the front of your house until you feel calm and composed enough to return inside.

Somehow, you doubt you’ll ever be either of those things around this guy.

“Are you the new kid who moved in?” A short, stocky older man with thick-rimmed glasses approaches you. His voice is rough, and you can’t help but wonder if his tone was intentionally rude.

“I’m not a kid, but yeah, I just moved in.”

“Great group of guys in there and good to see them finally with a girl in their midst. Too many half-naked men in there, it was starting to look like a real sausage fest. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.” He pauses to raise his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was gay back in the 60s, until the IRS caught up with me.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond.

“I live in the house next door,” he offers, gesturing towards the house that looks almost identical to the one you currently reside in. “By the way, do you have ten dollars?” He looks up at you once more, and you stand there, frozen for a moment before regaining your composure.

“Oh…” you reach to your jacket pockets, patting them down before finding your wallet and pulling it out. Opening it, you glance inside and slightly twist your face. “I only have a twenty,” you offer, pulling it out of your wallet, only to have it snatched away by him.

“That’ll suffice!” he exclaims with a mischievous grin, chuckling wickedly to himself as he discreetly tucks the twenty dollars away before returning to his house.

“Hey!” you call out after him, but he ignores you and slips inside.

“I see you met Frank,” Jolly’s voice comes from behind you, prompting you to swiftly turn around and face him.

“Let me guess. The ad wasn't joking about the neighbor either?”

The Swede—Mr. International—chuckles. “I see Noah introduced you to his food policy.”

“Yeah…” you feel a faint blush rising to your cheeks and shake your head to dispel the thoughts that keep returning, both from the previous night in the kitchen with Noah and from your dream. “I never imagined he was actually serious.”

“The guy enjoys his food,” Jolly shrugs, offering that as the sole explanation. “Are you going to come back inside now? I don’t think you can avoid Noah forever.”

“I wasn’t avoiding him!” you protest, trying to sound even remotely convincing, but he simply scoffs in response.

“Yeah, right.”

“Why does the kitchen smell like something’s been burning?” you ask, entering to find Jolly and Noah there.

“Jolly burnt his toast,” Noah explains, taking a bite of the half-burnt burger bun between his fingers.

“It’s not toast, it’s a hamburger bun,” Jolly corrects him.

“Whatever. Same thing,” Noah dismisses, taking another bite of food while you shake your head with a quiet laugh.

“So,” you begin, leaning against the kitchen counter and looking up at Noah. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in joining me on a stream sometime?” You tilt your head, biting down on your lower lip, hoping he’ll accept your offer.

You’d been brainstorming new ideas and couldn’t help but think that living with a male stripper could help boost your ratings immensely.

“Wait, seriously?” You notice the way his eyes gleam with excitement at the idea, completely disregarding the half-burnt burger bun that he carelessly throws into the nearby trash. “That would be so cool.”

“Are you sure? It’ll involve dressing up.”

“Of course! I’m down.” He sweeps the front of his shirt for crumbs, and your eyes flash down, taking in the sight of the shirt he’s wearing.

While it covers the muscles and tattoos that are usually visible, it pulls tight enough to still showcase his physique. You can’t help but think it reinforces your decision on the costume you’ve chosen for him to wear on your stream.

“You want me to wear this?” he asks, peering into the bag that holds your chosen outfit for him.

You can’t hold back grin that spreads across your face, and you nod with a soft hum. “You said you’d be down for it. You’re not changing your mind now, are you?” you playfully raise your brow at him.

“Of course I’m not, but I just hope you’re prepared for me to outshine you on your own stream.”

“I have no doubt you’d manage that anyway. But come on, let’s see it!” you’re practically giddy as he takes the bag in hand.

“Alright, but only if you dress up as well.”

Your eyes narrow slightly, and you twist your lips in thought as you consider his proposal. “What did you have in mind?”

“When I suggested Winnie the Pooh, I didn’t think you’d be wearing a onesie.”

“What? It’s adorable!” You beam, pulling up the hood of your Winnie the Pooh onesie. “I even have ears!” You bring your hands up to the tiny bear ears, flipping them back and forth while Noah chuckles.

“Besides, my legs would never look as good as yours do in that outfit.” You wolf whistle as he advances further into the room, finally coming into view on the camera and stream, in a full Hercules costume ensemble.

Raising your hands together, you clap and chant as Noah begins executing the iconic poses of the Disney hero, “Hercules, Hercules!”

Breaking into a giggle, you pat the seat you’ve pulled up next to you, gesturing for Noah to join. He slips into it immediately.

When you dare to glance at the chat, you’re met with a barrage of new messages, catching only a few as the chat’s speed outpaces your ability to keep up.

pixelprincess: who’s the hottie?

rouge_ninjaa: is that an itachi tattoo?

bellsballsbust: i agree with him you should've worn something sexy

ratsruus: omg look how buff he is!!!! he really is hercules!!!!

peacefulpawsss: aweee you should've been meg!

dailycrossingguard: we’re about to be in a fancam rn

A majority of them were caught up on the obvious, which was that you had a new hot guest, and they were happily pointing out said hotness, as if it hadn’t been haunting you since your first night at his Magic Mike show.

“They’re asking you about your tattoos,” you remark, noticing the numerous messages popping up with the same questions. “They want to know about the one on your thigh.”

As you glance down to look, your face flushes with embarrassment as you realize how high up the skirt of the costume he’s wearing appears to have risen.

“Oh, this one?!” he stands back up, almost completely out of frame due to his towering height, and lifts his leg to bring his thigh towards the camera. He then pulls up the skirt of his costume to fully reveal it.

“Be careful, you’re about to reveal your club.” You tease and reach over, pressing your hand against his thigh as you try to push his leg back down and prevent him from exposing too much to the camera, or at least enough to get you banned.

“Better than a honeypot,” he retorts, and your eyes widen, causing your cheeks to flush red.

You look towards the camera before bursting into laughter. “Oh, bother,” you mutter, shaking your head as you quote the iconic character you’re dressed as.

You make a subtle nod to the previous night in the kitchen when Noah had impersonated the bear, which he must catch onto, as he starts copying you, putting on his best Winnie the Pooh impression, just like he did the other night.

It’s no surprise that the chat spirals out of control, a chaotic mix of fangirls and people requesting other impressions. Yet, you can’t help but burst into laughter once again as he persistently pushes, seamlessly transitioning between embodying the character he’s dressed as and delivering his signature Pooh impression.

"What's your favorite song?" Noah asks.

A moment ago, he rushed into your room while you were streaming, interrupting you—not that you minded—acting as if he had something urgent to tell you or ask.

“My favorite song?” you repeat back to him, a soft laugh escaping your lips. You gently remove the cat ear headphones from your head and place them on your neck as you turn your chair in his direction.

“Yes, it’s of utmost importance.” He insists, sounding like a character out of Bridgerton.

“Oh, well, I’m not sure.” Your brows furrow in concentration as you attempt to recall a single song, but unfortunately, nothing comes to mind in the moment.

“Come on, you must have at least one song,” Noah insists. His big, goofy grin is half the reason you can’t get annoyed by his sudden interruption, or persistence.

Glancing back at your screen, you witness the chaotic response in the chat to Noah standing slightly visible on camera in your doorway. An unexpected urge arises to push him out of view, along with an odd sense of jealousy at the idea of these strangers gawking at him, especially since strangers doing exactly that is his job. In fact, you had once been one of those strangers and even encouraged it after briefly inviting him onto one of your streams.

“This is crucial, you know. You have ten seconds.” Noah begins to pressure you, initiating a countdown as he rocks back and forth in your doorway, gripping the top of it tightly.

“I don’t know!” You feel yourself growing flustered, glancing between Noah and the screen, the chat exploding with song options and more comments about ‘the hot guy’ in your doorway.

“Six—this entire show hinges on this—five.” He interrupts his countdown with additional remarks before you finally burst out an answer.

“Butter!”

For a brief moment, Noah falls silent, his face scrunching up as if he’s trying to recall the song. Finally, he speaks again. “Are you referring to the BTS song?”

You nod in response, albeit a bit shyly.

“I never suspected you to be a K-pop fan.”

“I’m not, I just like some songs.” You shrug, but you can sense the faint warmth spreading across your cheeks. If Noah does notice it, he doesn’t remark on with any more teasing.

“Thanks, honeybee, you saved the show!” He winks at you, and you roll your eyes at the nickname he’s decided to call you this week.

“Do you have to call me that?”

“There’s always Pooh Bear,” he says with a playful grin, causing your cheeks to flush red.

The memory of reaching into the jar of honey with your hand, over using a utensil, and Noah literally catching you mid-act, when you were craving a sweet snack, resurfaces.

Reaching for a nearby pillow, you toss it in his direction. “Get out, Hercules!” You hurl your own chosen name for him back at him, watching as he begins to imitate the iconic character. He flexes his muscles, which are already accentuated by the flimsy skin-tight tank he’s chosen to wear today.

Reaching for another pillow as a threat, he dips out of your room, closing your door behind him. When your attention returns to the chat, everyone is still going wild, making various comments about you both as well as his hotness, which makes your eyes roll. “Alright, let’s refocus on the game, shall we?” You attempt to redirect the chat and stream back to where it was before Noah’s interruption, but it’s evident that everyone’s mind is solely on one thing.

On Friday night, as you arrive at the club with Brooke and Troy, you make your way straight to the bar, listening to the two of them bicker over their latest differing opinion for the week. Just as you’re about to order a drink, another voice interrupts you.

“For you,” Matt slides a drink across the bar towards Troy.

“Oh, thanks, but I haven’t ordered yet.” Despite his protest, you can already see Troy’s hand reaching for the glass because he’d never refuse a free drink.

“I know,” Matt tosses a wink at Troy before turning away and heading down the bar towards another customer. At the same time, yours and Brooke’s jaws drop, and the previous topic of conversation is forgotten in favor of discovering what’s happening between Troy and the hot bartender, Matt, who also happens to be a friend of your roommate, Noah.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Tory insists, sensing the unspoken questions before he silences himself with a sip from his drink. Naturally, you shoot him a skeptical look.

After a few minutes of Brooke trying to pry information out of Troy, Davis approaches you all and guides you towards a table that Noah had previously reserved for you.

“I believe the more pressing question we should be asking is what’s happening between you and Mr. Magic Mike.” Troy attempts to divert the conversation, and fortunately for him, it works because Brooke quickly shifts her gaze to you, along with her line of questioning.

You do your best to avoid direct answers by providing vague responses and maintaining a composed demeanor, until the house lights start to dim.

There was nothing going on between you two, right?

Sometimes you flirted, but most friends did. It didn’t mean there was anything more. Perhaps the most frustrating part was not being able to read him. His laid-back nature and the lack of thought behind his gaze always left you wondering what he was truly thinking, especially during those moments that felt more intense than others in terms of flirting. Those moments that managed to seep into your dreams and influence them to revolve around him.

Tonights show progresses as normally, that is until you hear the familiar intro to the song “Butter.” Your eyes widen, and your cheeks flush as all four tattooed men step onto the stage shirtless, their tight black pants leave little to their imagination as they begin dancing to the song with perfectly choreographed moves that are reminiscent of the infamous K-pop group, yet sexier.

You swear that Noah’s gaze is fixed on you, a lopsided grin spreading across his face as if he’s proud of transforming the song you suggested into this new performance for their show, specifically for you. You’re certain he’s focused on you with every suggestive lyric, which leads him to point down to you—well, your table—making you blush even harder. Meanwhile, Brooke and Troy openly dance beside you, holding up their dollar bills, ready to toss them in Viper’s direction, and when the song finally ends, he winks down at you.

Maybe he is smooth as butter.

Troy, after you mentioned needing some fresh air, joins you outside, while Brooke is still inside, no doubt having a blast watching the guys’ strip show. You’re pretty sure it’s her you hear cheering as Troy slips out through the open door.

“Guuurl, you’ve got it down bad, don’t you?” Troy asks.

“Is it that obvious?” You sighed and forced a laugh.

“Well, if you were one of your little emotes, you’d be the one with hearts coming out of your head.”

“Ugh,” you growl, dropping your head back against the brick wall you’re leaning against. “What am I supposed to do? This can’t be happening.”

“Might I suggest you find someone new to focus on?”

Slowly, you raise your head, cocking a brow in Troy’s direction. “Do you mean like a date?”

“Or dates, plural,” he shrugs. “You’re young, single, and hot, so you could easily find someone.”

It wasn’t a terrible idea. Perhaps finding someone else to focus on would prevent your thoughts from wandering back to Noah and his hands, his tattoos, those biceps, that mouth...

“I guess you’re right.” You concede.

“Wow, can I have that in writing?” Troy teases, and you playfully glare back at him.

“Don’t push it.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe a date—or dates—is precisely what you need.

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke  @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ami--gami @floodflameschosen @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady @th4t-em0-k1d @amelia-acero @dollieomens @I-love-the-smell-of-you-blood @sitkowski @athenexe @trvshdxddy @collapsedglasshouses @overmydeadbodysblog @xmads-omensx @ajordan2020 @astronoids @courta13 @oobleoob @concretenoah @death-ofpeace-ofmind @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @bloody-spades 

[flowery-mess]

stripper!noah doing a tiktok dance because he found it and wanted to incorporate it, or one of the waitresses taught it to him 😭

The waitresses taught it to him😭 because he's a good boy and doesn't realize they did it for the laughs, he's cute and clueless

Btw I ran to my spotify to find songs I'd want Viper to use when giving me a lap dance and I'm suddenly having such a nice evening, didn't know I needed this au until you came with it

[the-east-art]

Woah! An edgy magical girl manga series? Sign me up!

[smoosnoom]

a lesson in love

“I’m glad they moved me closer to the art block,” Mike mentions after a second, and Will blinks at him. “It’ll be easier to bother you, now.”

Will clicks his teeth. “Incredibly professional,” he notes, and Mike’s smile widens. Sometimes, Will’s heart feels moments from exploding, like a firework someone had poured gasoline onto and threw in a fire.

“I’m the pinnacle of professional,” Mike decides, oblivious to Will’s cardiovascular issues.

Between being a teacher in a school full of chaos, being in love with his best friend and coworker of several years, and Lucas' worst idea yet, Will tries his best to make it through another school year.

[drangues]

gay tumblr users said they wanted more cleradin i said oh im sure

[byierficrecs]

❝ the heartbreak prince ❞ author: @andiwriteordie

link: archiveofourown.org/works/46248664

personal blog || submit a story || support me on ko-fi 🌈

[kinderartifact4]

More of my Magic AU! This time, it’s the assigned species for the gen 2 cast.

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-

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Mike- Shapeshifter

+Each alter has their own form

+Mal is sort of.. split off, if that makes sense?

+Like, he’s still there, he follows Mike around, and he rejoins at some point, but he’s currently separated

+Technically dead

Zoey- Human

+Witch, wizard, whatever, she knows magic

+Comes from a long line of magic users

Cameron- Faun

+Despite his age, his antlers have only barely started coming in

Dawn- Harpy

+(I will take suggestions for what bird would work well with her. You could also suggest other species but I’m quite set on this one.)

+The aura reading is an inherited magic ability; it runs in the family, it did sort of skip her father but her aunt has it

Scott- Mer

+Barracuda variety

+Despite his species, he doesn’t actually swim often; lack of access, product of his parents choosing country life

+He can still swim, he’s just not as graceful in the water as most other mer are

Dakota- Human

Brick- Human

B- Halfbreed

+Human/Demon

+Vetëtimë demon

Anne Maria- Elf

Lightning- Human

Sam- Satyr

Staci- Human

Jo- Töke Demon

+Rock/ground variety

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Was gonna go with shark for Scott, but it felt far too easy

[winx-moths-mod-rewrite]

[lolli-says-stuff]

Proposal: someone writes magic Mike as Alex being undercover. Because I need that. Also I propose it as a honey pot. And yassen has to go undercover too

[artistic-moth-man]

Ok but if you dont like mike and vanessa you clearly have a family issue and should probably go to therapy for it

[concretejunglefm]

[concretejunglefm]

ever since i knew this was a thing for the official magic mike show i knew it was perfect for the boys. I love that tiktok knew you needed to see it

You can't send a video through inbox so I'm just gonna post it @concretejunglefm

Okay so I did't know how to imagie sitting in Folio's lap when he's behind his drums, but this just came on my fyp on tiktok and hell yeah Folio I volunteer

[pelorsdyke]

ronancetober - day twelve: spell [practical magic au, nancy wheeler as sally owens, robin buckley as state investigator gary hallett]

“Did you or your sister kill Jason Carver?” The state investigator asks Nancy, both hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket.

It’s stupid, but Nancy can’t help her instinctual deadpan reply. “Oh, yeah,” she says, leaning back against her kitchen counter. Distantly, she can hear Max and Mike taunting each other, the jingle of her aunt’s wind chimes as the pair race in and out of the porch door. “A couple of times.”

The investigator— Robin, she’d said her name was, insistent when Nancy defaulted to Detective Buckley instead— smirks. Nancy traces the line of her lips with her eyes.

“Nancy,” she begins, the word as hard-fought from the respectful detective as Robin’s own name had been from Nancy, “please. Tell me what you saw.”

“Jason Carver was a no-good shithead of a man, a bully and a bastard, and the worst kind of man, which is to say, one who put his hands on my sister. To be honest, Detective,” Nancy replies, pressing in on the word as she says it, watching Robin roll her eyes with barely constrained pleasure, “I couldn’t give a rat’s ass where he is now.”

It’s true, is the thing. When Nancy had first hit him— and she had been the first, the crunch of her car against his bones somehow a relief even as her mind had started racing through the implications of killing a man— a not exactly small part of her had thought about just leaving him where he was. A hit-and-run, maybe chalked up to his mob connections or violent behavior, letting Jason Carver rot in the woods. Better than he deserved, anyway. But Chrissy had insisted, fearful, that they needed to at least move the body, and once the two of them had hustled him in the car, it had seemed a little stupid to just… what? Bury the body in Joyce’s backyard? Hope no one dug the gardenias up too deeply next year? So they’d done something probably far stupider, if she was honest, and paged carefully through books Nancy had sworn off years ago to find a spell neither of them should’ve even considered casting.

And the second time, to be fair, he’d been a breath away from killing Chrissy. So Nancy had done it, in the end, had killed the man twice, the second time by shattering a pot over his head, and if she was honest, she’d kind of enjoyed it. Nancy didn’t intend to become a murderer, but she did revel some in getting to hand-deliver the comeuppance Carver had deserved, after what he’d put her sister through.

And then, yes, sure, they’d buried him in the garden. Fuck off, okay? Where else were they supposed to do it? Maybe one of their cousins had something resembling a better hiding spot for bodies by their mother’s house, but Nancy wasn’t about to start making calls to ask.

Robin mulls over Nancy’s words for a moment, and Nancy takes the time to observe the woman in front of her. Robin was tall but thin, most of her frame hidden away behind the bulk of her thick jacket and flannel, but where the sleeves were rolled up, Nancy caught a peek of muscled forearms. The detective was no desk jockey, certainly. She’d passed on the coffee Nancy had offered her on coming in, citing that it made her inexplicably sleepy, and had smiled fondly at Max and Mike when they’d scampered by, quietly letting on that they reminded her a bit of herself and her older brother. Nancy isn’t really sure why she’s so determined to hold onto every piece of information about Robin, but the woman is just so intriguing to her. There’s something about her presence at Nancy’s kitchen table, steady even as she thrums with energy, that Nancy can’t stop staring at.

It’s the moment when Robin opens her mouth, actually, that it clicks into place for Nancy. She’s saying something about how she’s certainly not about to deny Nancy’s assessment of the situation, not after chasing Carver across the country following a string of murders, but Nancy is only half-listening. Instead, she’s focused in what might be a semi-intimidating way for Robin on the blue of the woman’s eyes, how they flit between shades as the light changes.

—“And they’re going to have… bright blue eyes! Not like me, but like… like the ocean on a summer day.” Nancy remembers saying, Chrissy listening attentively at her side. “And one of those faces like an old Hollywood movie star, and an older brother who was born into parents who adopted them.”

“Is all of this important?” Chrissy had asked, and Nancy had shrewdly raised an eyebrow, breaking her concentration for only a second.

“Chris, it’s about making somebody impossible. I want to make sure I never fall in love,” Nancy had said, resolute and avoiding the sad curve of Chrissy’s lips in response. “Now shut up! I have to finish. And she’s going to hate coffee because it makes her sleepy instead of waking her up, which makes no sense to her or anyone else—“

“She?” Chrissy had piped in again, and Nancy had felt herself blush to the roots of her hair.

“Maybe,” she’d said, defensive and immediate, and her sister had just laughed and wrapped her in a hug, reminding her that they’d always have each other’s backs, no matter what. It was a promise they’d made with blood before Chrissy had run off, but it had been deep in both girls’ souls since long before that.

Nancy comes back to the moment with Robin with a certainty that grips her all the way to her soul. It’s her, she thinks, eyes locked on the cabinet beside her to avoid staring a hole into Robin’s head. Nancy’s magic impossible woman. And she’s doomed her to die.

[soniccrazygal]

Fishing Trip

It's just a little fluffy moment for the Gregaverse.

Blaze on the left being held by Stan belongs to @dreadmothrosemary71

Mike Pines AU belongs to me.

Webs on the far right and Navy in the water belong to @moonfang182-magic

[itzzaira]

Previous - next

The Mikey's from cabin 10 seemed to have thought of almost everything... wonder what they're gonna do with the stickers

Little Mikey Future - @orangepawn39

Extended Family - @miahasahardname

The Wrong Side of the Portal - me!

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

[soupmanspeaks]

Okay so I may be going a wee bit coocoo but fnaf magical girl au (WALK WITH ME HERE) where literally everything is the same except Mike, okay, he gets just tons and tons of remnant or something that allows him to have a sailor moon-esc magical girl transformation and through the power of Remnant, Love, and Lawsuits he makes it his mission to defeat his father, okay,and then he has a stand off with William at frights or something and he's like "father, through the power of my friendship and fire, I *will* defeat you, once and for all!" And then springtrap is like "Michael what the f### are you on about--what are you wearin-AAAAAAAAAA-" and then Michael blasts him with a magical beam full to the brim with remnant, friendship, and arson