#ralph lauren second

[newestcool]

Ralph Lauren s/s 1996 rtw Creative Director Ralph Lauren Model Stephanie Seymour  Newest Cool

[thequeensthroat]

it’s so funny/awesome how irresistibly I now as an adult gravitate towards aesthetics and self-presentations that appalled me as a teenager

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[watsername]

the other side of him dressing like sapnap was you being like the breaking bad girl

that one audio on tiktok that’s like a mashup of mary on a cross and buddy holly

[balbul]

Skirts on my non finalized to buy list for the next couple of months

[shopthatgrrrl]

https://www.depop.com/products/thatgrrrl-lauren-ralph-lauren-leather-large-2106/

[danieladesouzapavani]

[rafecameronssl4t]

Lunch with the family || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: been a hot min since I’ve posted dad!rafe and mabel

MASTERLIST (dad!Rafe au masterlist)

"The views are insane," Sarah mutters, her phone raised to capture the breathtaking scenery of Lake Como. The serene lake shimmered under the late afternoon sun, framed by the towering mountains and elegant villas scattered along the shore. "I know, it's so surreal," you respond, adjusting the sunglasses perched on your nose, the warmth of the Italiab sun gently caressing your skin.

The entire Cameron family had gathered here to celebrate Ward and Rose’s wedding anniversary—a grand affair that seemed to fit the lavish surroundings perfectly. Your gaze drifts, inevitably landing on Rafe who was sat on the table in the patio, engrossed in conversation with Ward. His fitted Ralph Lauren shirt accentuated his broad chest and sculpted biceps, clinging perfectly to his figure.

The subtle grown-out buzz cut he now sported framed his face in a way that made him look even more ruggedly handsome, and you couldn’t help but admire the way the soft breeze tousled his hair just so. There was something magnetic about him—something you couldn’t quite shake. He caught you staring, his piercing eyes meeting yours, and a smirk slowly curved onto his lips.

He winked, a playful glint in his gaze, causing your heart to flutter despite yourself. You returned the smile, warmth creeping up your neck, before quickly turning away, focusing instead on Wheezie and Mabel, who were happily playing together in the garden nearby. "Does anyone want any more pizza?" Rose’s voice suddenly cut through the peaceful scene as she stood up from the table, brushing crumbs from her dress.

"We're good, thanks, Rose—" Sarah began to reply, but her words were abruptly cut off by a high-pitched wail. The unmistakable sound of Mabel crying pierced through the air, causing everyone to turn in alarm. Your head whipped around, eyes widening as you saw Mabel sprawled on the grass, tears streaming down her tiny face. Gasps erupted around the table, chairs scraping against the stone patio Rafe, Rose, and Ward stood.

Wheezie stood frozen, her eyes wide with panic. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I looked away for just a second—" she stammered, voice shaky with guilt. You moved quickly, bending down to scoop Mabel into your arms. "It’s okay, Wheezie, don’t worry. It was just an accident," you reassured her, offering a soft smile. Gently bouncing Mabel, you inspected her for any signs of injury, "I know, baby, I know. But it’s okay," you cooed, soothing Mabel as she continued to cry softly in your arms.

Rafe was at your side in seconds, his frustration evident. "Wheezie!" he snapped, his tone sharper than intended as Mabel's cries intensified. "Rafe, it’s fine," you interjected quickly, placing a calming hand on his bicep in an attempt to soothe his agitation. He met your gaze briefly before focusing on Mabel, his expression softening as he took her from your arms, holding her protectively against his chest.

"You’re okay, baby. You’re okay," Rafe whispered, kissing Mabel’s tear-streaked cheeks while he rocked her gently. You rested a hand on her back, helping to calm her. Soon enough, Mabel’s eyelids grew heavy, her tiny body relaxing in Rafe’s arms. He continued to hold her close, his movements tender and sleepiness overtook her.

[princessbrunette]

so i know i always say that rafe is strictly a girl dad. well, he is. but sometimes i like to humour myself with the universe where he’s the father to the sweetest little boy ever.

the universe would be ironic like that. rafe foolishly knocked you up when he was 22 — the boy still having alot to learn. he was still walking around with that pistol tucked into his waistband, fighting pogues, mouthing off and going on coke rants. you had been terrified, wondering what kind of a father rafe was going to be — even when he promised time and time again, “i’m — i’m getting my shit together alright? i can, hey — we can do this? okay?” with sweat gathered at his hairline and tears in his eyes. thus, when the universe decided to play the hilarious prank which was having the doctor tell you ‘its a boy!���, your first thought was ‘shit.’

because he was bound to be just like rafe, right?

you had seemingly prophetic visions, a spoiled little brat — just like his father was, thundering around in a brightly coloured ralph lauren polo from the baby range, demanding the teet when he saw fit. a girl would have been fine — you’d seen wheezie grow up around rafe and turn out totally fine (aside from the likely trauma.) but a boy? what did rafe cameron know about raising a boy? was your son next up to become a drug slinging, pogue hating, maniac? (with no offence to rafe of course, you were unfortunately very much in love with him but contrary to popular belief that did not disrupt your common sense.)

rafe was over the moon about you being pregnant with a boy too, which did little to comfort you.

the anxiety subsided the second that baby was out of you, his sticky, slimy little body placed onto your chest with rafe crowding your space — his bravado dropped for a second to reveal a childlike awe. his own baby. you could tell it was only now that things became very real for rafe. his eyes well up, covering his shaky grin with an even shakier hand, saying stuff like “shit, oh uh nah i probably shouldn’t cuss infront of the baby anymore right? yeah… my god, you did it baby. brought me my boy. should be so god damn proud.” he croons as his hands dig affectionately into your sore shoulders, smearing a kiss to your sweaty temple. “ahh, aha — what the hell kinda man am i cryin’ at this huh? shit.” he sniffles as he wipes his eyes but you’re not listening. you’re staring at your perfect boy.

he grows into something perfectly reminiscent of both you and rafe’s features, all whilst smushed into the cutest baby you’ve ever seen. you were aware every parent said that about their child, but no — you were certain. he was pampers commercial level cute. ‘top ten cutest babies’ buzzfeed article level cute. sarah would often hold him to her chest and something would be healed as she’d whisper “i can’t believe you came from my brother.” into his wispy hair. he was a true blessing.

with big doe eyes that took up half his face and an appearance that somehow replicated a baby lamb that had been turned into a human on the basis of a magical spell — you had long forgotten about your worries regarding having a boy.

a few years down the line and not much has changed. your baby boy is three years old, chubby fists clutching his empty plastic lightening mcqueen plate as he toddles out onto the porch where rafe sits spread out opposite barry, sipping on a can of beer in the early evening. your son is distracted by a decorative plant, and the two men pay him no mind as they continue talk.

“but — but that’s the thing, right, barry? i dont do that shit anymore and… and i sure as hell am not looking to start again.”

“man i get that rafe you a father now, all serious and shit but think about the money. you thinkin’ with your husband head and not with your cameron head. your daddy was a piece of shit but he had that business mindset that you gotta adopt, bro.”

rafe’s expression flattens, finishing his can before leaning forward onto his elbows. “well uh, newsflash — i don’t wanna be anything like my dad. now if we’re done here…” rafes attention is caught by the mini him waddling into view, holding his plate infront of him.

“more please?” comes the sweetest voice in the world, blinking up at the man he viewed as his entire universe, much like you at times.

“finished your icecream already huh? where’s your mom?” he cranes round, but doesn’t bother searching much further when he hears the padding of your footsteps.

“aye buddy, you know we was just talkin’ about you.” barry leans forward with a smarmy grin and your son gets shy, lifting his shoulders practically to his ears and looking down, glueing himself to rafes leg.

“conversations done, actually.” rafe reminds him, lifting the boy to sit on his hip as he hoists himself to stand. as he does so, you appear in the doorway to the patio— sundress clad belly swollen with another baby.

“rafe could you bring him in? it’s too hot out there for him without his hat.” you furrow your eyebrows, deciding to ignore barry’s presence all together, which of course doesn’t stop him from conversing.

“shit, i ain’t seen you in a while mama. he got you again? you two stay busy, huh?” rafes oldest ‘friend’ chuckles, gold tooth glinting in the sun light, and like your only child — you shy away, sending rafe a parting glance that said ‘just hurry up and rid of him.’

rafe adjusts the baby boy on his hip, now staring down at barry.

“talk to my girl again n’i’ll bring out the old me alright, you don’t want that. go do somethin’ barry, i don’t care what it is just get off my goddamn property yeah?” rafe drawls tiredly, crushing the can in his hand and dropping it carelessly into the wastebin beside barry before heading inside, your son turning to stare sweetly at the dark haired man over his dads shoulder, offering a sticky, wide fingered salute in parting.

atleast rafe was still his usual charming self, son or not.

[lewisvinga]

my strong girl | lewis hamilton x fem! chronically ill! reader

summary; after an incident during a race, y/n is sent to the hospital and is upset about missing his race after not attending races for months. fortunately for her, lewis is always understanding

fc; various girls on pinterest

word count; 1k

warnings; hospitals, needles, fainting

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3 @fall-bambi

note; requested ! lewis was so close to a podium i actually was so upset🙁🙁🙁 anyways, i tried to combine a few of the ideas into this without it being superrrr hectic

masterlist !

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“Are you sure you want to come? You don’t need to feel pressured to do so.” Lewis asked in the soft tone that always brought Y/n comfort.

She sighed as he helped her put on her blue Ralph Lauren cardigan. “I’m sure, Lew. I don’t want to miss your home race.” She huffed, watching him grab her white golden gooses.

“Just be careful today. I hate that I can’t be around you the whole time.” Lewis quietly said. He helps her out on her shoes, securely tying the white laces.

“I know, I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Y/n really tried her best to be careful. She only walked a few minutes to grab stuff around Lewis’ driver's room. If she went longer distances, she used her wheelchair and one of the girlfriends of the drivers would happily walk by her side to accompany her.

While Lewis was doing media duties before the race, she hung out with Carmen and Lily. The two girls had lunch but Y/n wasn’t hungry so she decided to not eat. A big mistake for her.

She could only chat with Lewis for a few minutes before he had to get into his car. A couple of good luck kisses later, and his car was being driven out of the garage for the warm-up lap.

Silverstone was always special. It was Lewis’s home race and most importantly, his last home race with Mercedes. He was starting in pole after a fantastic qualifying session. The rainy weather allowed him to push the car to its limits.

Y/n started to feel a bit strange, like something was up but she ignored it for anxiety as the race began. Lewis had a fantastic start to the race and maintained being in first.

Around halfway through the race, Y/n felt well enough to get up from her wheelchair in the usual spot in the back of the garage. Although she usually refrained from walking due to getting tired so easily as a result of her illness, she decided that she felt well enough to at least a couple of steps in.

It was the final five laps and Lewis was still in first with a large gap between him and Charles, his future teammate, who was in second. However, instead of feeling joy about the British driver leading the race and being close to his 104th win, she started to feel like something was off.

Y/n needed to sit back down but her wheelchair was in the farthest corner of the Mercedes garage. Carmen had called out her name in concern but it sounded muffled as she struggled to stand upright. Before she knew it, everything went dark.

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The sound of beeping and the feeling of a familiar pair of fingers rubbing over her hand was what Y/n first noticed as she gained consciousness. The bedsheets crinkled as she slowly moved around, hearing a soft shush as she whined.

“Easy there, my love.”

Her eyes fluttered open and she’s met with Lewis’s deep brown eyes. She immediately noticed he was in a pair of sweats with a trophy sitting by his side.

“Did I miss it?” She asked with a raspy voice. She knew the answer of course. A wave of guilt washed over her. Lewis immediately noticed her furrowed-up eyebrows as she glanced at the iv sticking out of her hand.

“I care more about whether or not you’re okay, my love.” He sighed, gently cupping her cheek to make her look at him. “This win was for you, my strong girl.”

“Not strong enough to last 5 minutes standing up.” Her angry mumble made him let out a chuckle. He leaned over and softly kissed her cheek.

“Doctors said you had low blood sugar. You hit your head, no concussion but they want to keep you here overnight just in case something happens due to your illness.”

Y/n huffed at the mention of staying overnight at the hospital. Sure, she was used to it due to her illness, but she just wanted to be in the comfort of her home in the arms of Lewis. Her furrowed-up eyebrows made him laugh again.

She hadn’t noticed an overnight back resting next to the first-place trophy on the ground. He reached for it and pulled out a sketchbook, a few tubes of paint, and a couple of paintbrushes. Her previous furrowed-up eyebrows immediately relaxed. She relaxed back into the pillows as he opened up the sketchbook to an empty page.

Painting was once a passion of Y/n. She has grown quite a large platform for her work. She adored being able to translate everything in her mind onto a canvas with the stroke of her paintbrush.

Unfortunately due to her illness causing pain in her hand joints, she had to give up the intricate paintings. On occasions when she found herself stuck in the hospital, Lewis would always bring her sketchbook. Although she couldn’t do the once complex strokes and liked, she could do a simplified version.

“Lew,” Her voice was soft and frail. Her hand reached out to grasp his. “You didn’t have to do this. You should be celebrating your win.” She mumbled, slowly reaching over to tuck a braid that had fallen out of his ponytail behind his ear.

“Nonsense,” Lewis looked up at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I much rather be relaxed and painting here with you than be out with drunk people who only want to be around me for the pictures.”

Y/n sighed as the corner of her lips curled into a smile. He handed her a paintbrush before squeezing a couple of colors on the small plastic palette he had brought. He leaned over, cupping her cheek in pulled her in close. He gently kissed her plump lips and couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you, my strong girl.”

“And I love you, my 104x race winner.”

[danadaria]

Steddie Olympic AU where Eddie gets on his first Olympics for BMX freestyle, and it's so weird because he has been in competitions for many years but nothing like this, something so big and with so many rules.

His background was being a hyperkinetic kid who didn't really care about his life, and somehow being fearless and doing acrobatics became his career. Still, even then it wasn't so serious.

His thing were the X-games and open exhibitions, with fire, hard rock & metal, tattoos, and having RedBull as a sponsor.

Behind the adrenaline he and his friends are a bunch of clowns who just wanted to fly and have the bones of a child forever.

But now he's here: in the middle of a giant line in an ocean of other athletes, wearing a fucking blazer from Ralph Lauren and with the lamest jeans he had to wear in his entire life.

And everything is kinda awful, because he lost sight of friends (Gareth and Max, both skaters, but they train in the same place), and he just heard there's no McDonald's at the Olympics this year.

He doesn't even like McDonald's so much, but god, he grow up hearing about athletes eating hundreds of burgers and mcnuggets for free, and sue him, but his inner child was super excited about it.

"Are you ok, man?"

Eddie opens his mouth to give a snarky remark when he sees the most beautiful man in existence – GORGEOUS v-shape, honey eyes, pink pouty lips, and kissable moles– looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything is okey-dokey" He says lamely.

The most beautiful man in existence snorts at him.

"Okey-dokey? What are you? Five?"

"Probably. I was sad because I found out today there's no free McDonald's this year. Now that I know I'm not sure if it is worth being here"

Eddie's future husband looks surprised for a second and laughs at him.

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. I read some people ate so many nuggets they left the Olympics cackling like a chicken: I wanted to be one of them!"

"Oh, yeah. I ate lots of them post-competition"

"See?!"

"Ok, I give you that. But this year there's going to be international cuisine and all that jazz"

"Knowing me, I'm going to get too overwhelmed with the options and I'll end with the saddest oatmeal every day."

"You have lots of food opinions for someone that's on a sports event"

"Well, is either that or thinking that my biggest rivals are a bunch of 15-year-olds from Brazil and Japan."

"Oh? What's your sport?"

"BMX freestyle"

"That's the race in the mountains?"

"That's literally BMX racing."

"Right." He looked ashamed.

Eddie needed to fix that look, now.

"And you? What's your poison?"

"Poison? You mean my sport?" Eddie nods at him encouragingly. "Gymnastics."

"I can see it." Eddie looks at him approvingly, "You have the arms of a gymnast, big boy."

The face of Eddie's future husband turns a beautiful shade of red. And Eddie is just a second away to ask for his name, and his number to change the course of his life, when he feels a hand on the jacket's collar.

"Here you are, loser. We need to go this way!"

And before Eddie can say anything, Max Mayfield (his new arch-nemesis) takes him away from the love of his life.

He says bye with a hand before being cruelly separated, disappearing into a sea of people.

"Do you want to be murdered before or after the opening ceremony, Red?"

"Oh, shut up loser."

____________________________________________________________

Steve is going back with his best friend to their apartment, feeling super frustrated. Somehow, 24 hours ago, he thought it would be a good idea to give his phone to his best friend for the inauguration night to avoid getting too excited and watching videos of the event until 4 am.

And now he was regretting ALL his life choices.

"You don't understand Robin, I met a super cute guy, but I couldn't get his name! I'm only going to search that and nothing else"

"Steve, you made me swear I wouldn't pass your phone on inauguration day, no matter the reason. You need to sleep"

"Easy for you to say. You didn't meet someone when you didn't have your phone!"

"I would understand better than anyone! I met the cutest girl competing at air riffle, aaaand I didn't have my phone either!"

"You gave her your presentation card, didn't you"

"Yes, sorry."

"See? Why didn't you make me buy some for me, too?"

They arrive at their floor. Steve knows they're a little obnoxious, but it was the first night and it's still early.

"Good night, neighbors! Isn't it too early in the event to be fighting?"

Steve looks up so fast, he probably hurt his neck a little bit. At the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor next to a very closed door, was Steve's meet-cute: All smiley, charming, and inviting.

"It's you!"

"Oh! Hi Mr. Gymnastics, and hi unknown lady."

"It's Robin Buckley," She says and goes straight to her apartment, "we probably going to see each other again, so good night".

And she closes the door firmly behind her.

"I didn't have. I mean. I don't have my phone to search for you."

The other boy looks at him, almost evaluating him, before giving Steve a big smile and offering his hand to stretch.

"Eddie Munson."

"Steve Harrington."

"So, would you-"

"There's a McDonald's near where I compete tomorrow. Would you like to go with me?"

Eddie stands up and walks until he's in front of Steve. He smiles.

"Would love it. After all, it was my childhood dream."

Steve smiles too.

[omgthatdress]

An Analysis of the Ubiquity of Mall Brands in the late 1990s to early 2000s, or

I Fucking Hate These Guys

by OMG!thatdress

If you were a tween to teenager from roughly 1997 to 2004, chances are, you were left with profound life-long trauma caused by someone wearing Tommy Hilfiger, Abercrombie & Fitch, Ralph Lauren, Nautica, American Eagle, The Gap, Old Navy, or, if you were came along a little later, Hollister or Aeropoastale.

I cannot overstate to my young followers how over-saturated these brand names were in teen culture at the turn of the millennium, the extend to which EVERYONE was wearing them, and yet, in a weird way, how light the imprint they actually left on fashion history was.

Watching iconic teen shows of the era, you don't see any of them because a.) TV teenagers tend to be way cooler and more stylish than awkward and desperate real teenagers actually are, and b.) these brands were all copyright protected, which kept their names and logos off the airwaves.

Look in a middle school yearbook, however, you'll see it. Look at your aunt and uncle's high school photo albums, you'll see it. Ask any late Gen X or early Millennial. It was real and it was fucking awful.

The big question is why? Why? WHY, GOD WHY?! There's a lot of answers to that question.

First of all, I'm going to cite this absolutely wonderful article from Collector's Weekly about why everyone's grandma had a hideous orange couch in the 70s, and give the most simple and straightforward answer: it's what was available.

This is when the concept of online shopping is still very much in its infancy, and the hub of American consumer culture was still your local mall. If you needed new clothes, you went to the mall. And guess what stores were at every local mall? You guessed it.

For the second answer, I'm going to dig up this utter relic from the early days of internet meme-ing, that has nonetheless stuck with me and had a profound impact of my understanding of how popular fashion works:

I'm pretty sure that the reason Abercrombie & Fitch manages to survive as a brand today rests solely increasingly middle-aged Millennial men whose sense of style has refused to evolve past the shit their mom bought them in high school.

And why the hell would they? Nobody wore Abercrombie because it made them stand out or feel special. I'm still pretty convinced that nobody actually *liked* the aesthetic or thought the clothes actually looked good. You need not look past the basic color palette to understand these were not brands meant for uniqueness or self-expression.

While Britney Spears pranced around stage in her iconic neon colors and body glitter, American teenagers existed in a never-ending hellscape of washed-out neutrals, faded denim, and American flag primary colors.

All of which served its exact purpose: it was safety. It was a way to appear cool if you didn't want to go through the ordeal of actually having a personality or a sense of style. Which, of course, goes back to point number one: it was just shit you bought at the mall because you needed clothes.

It wasn't enough to save you once the school bully caught that whiff of autism and/or queerness on you, but it was enough that you could blend into the herd and pray no one ever noticed you.

Underneath it all was a very subtle undercurrent of class and classism: to wear mall brands was to declare to the world that you could indeed afford to shop at the mall. It meant you weren't, god forbid, poor.

Status symbol clothing goes back to the invention of clothing itself. The concept of brands as status symbols is still very much alive and well, its just more limited to actual luxury brands nowadays. One need look no further than your favorite high-end children's clothing website to see that rich parents still very much think it important that you know their five-year-old is wiping its boogers on Versace.

None of these brands were actual high-end luxury brands, but they still advertised and presented themselves as such. Their ads featured signifiers of "all-american" (read: White) wealth: yachts, skiing, horses, beaches, shirtless dudes with chiseled abs playing verious sportsballs.

The color palettes and cuts mimicked the preppy "Ivy" style of the New England old-money elite, along with their hobbies and lifestyle. You may not actually own a horse, but you can wear a polo shirt. You may not be able to run without breaking your ankle, but you wear the same shirt as the dude holding a football in the ad.

It was an elitist, White and skinny image that didn't age well into the diversity and body-positivity of the 2010s.

In 2003, a lawsuit was filed against Abercrombie & Fitch alleging systematic racial discrimination. People of color were rarely hired, and if they were, they were given jobs in the back, away from customer view. In 2005, the U.S. district court approved a settlement of $50,000. A few years ago, Netflix released the documentary White Hot: The Rise and Fall of Abercrombie & Fitch which admittedly I haven't watched yet because my hatred runs too deep to remind myself of its existence.

It was a hatred of Abercrombie & the (white, thin, neurotypical, heterosexual) conformity that it represented that drove me screaming into the loving arms of Hot Topic and Linkin Park. Jordan Calhoun wrote an excellent article for the Atlantic about his experience growing up poor and Black and not fitting in to the Abercrombie aesthetic.

I would be very remiss if I didn't bring up the "urban" mall brands of the early 2000s: Fubu, Sean Jean, Ecko, Baby Phat, among others. They were favored by Black teenagers and White teenagers who wanted to be Black. I know there's a lot to be said about these brands, but I'm too Caucasian to really be able to talk about them with nuance. Maybe someone else will, and I will be very happy to listen.

As much as I hate Tommy Hilfiger, I really do have to give him credit for recognizing the incredibly lucrative "street wear" market and selling power of hip-hop. While most of these mall brands kept their image sparkling White, Tommy made Aaliyah his brand ambassador and regularly appeared in the wardrobes of popular rap and R&B artists of the time.

It'd be very easy and very reductive to say that the changing ideology of the 2010s was the downfall of preppy mall brands, but really, the thing that truly killed them was the downfall of the mall itself. Shopping habits changed, and logos and brand names no longer held the power they once had.

The moral of the story is that being a teenager is fucking hell, and these popular brands both offered the safety of conformity and a status symbol to hold over the heads of the poor and uncool. The irony is that everyone who hated them as teenagers (read: ME) and the freaks who grew up to truly love the power of self-expression through personal style (read: ME) became the truly cool people. If you wore Abercrombie you grew up to vote for Donald Trump.

GO GOTH. PREPS SUCK. THE END.

[bitchiswild]

Partition

G!P Winter x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Rough?, pregnancy kink, tummy bulge, creampie, face fucking, etc.

A/n: Driver roll up the partition Please😏☝️

Requested

As you and Minjeong exited the Polo Ralph Lauren show, the flashes of cameras and shouts of paparazzi surrounded us, making our escape into the waiting limo feel like a whirlwind.

"Whew," Minjeong exclaimed, breathless as she settled beside me. "The paparazzi are relentless today. You okay, babe?" Her concerned gaze met yours, and she instinctively pulled you closer, wrapping her arm around you protectively.

You leaned into her warmth, reassured by her presence. "Yeah, I'm fine," You assured her, feeling her hand soothingly rub your arm as she relayed our next destination to the driver.

"To the after party, please," she instructed the driver without hesitation.

Upon learning that traffic would delay our arrival by 45 minutes, Minjeong took it in stride, unfazed by the delay.

As we settled into the plush seats, your mind wandered back to the moments before the fashion show, when the air was charged with anticipation and desire.

"God, you're so hot, baby," Minjeong murmured, her lips trailing kisses down your neck, pinning you between her and the bathroom sink.

You let out a contented sigh, granting her access to your neck. "Mmm, Min," you moaned softly, your body responding to her touch, "not here, baby."

Minjeong's hands explored your curves eagerly, her touch sending shivers down your spine. "Why not? No one's looking for us," she husked, her lips finding yours in a hungry kiss, growing more intense by the second.

Feeling breathless and exhilarated, you gently pushed her away, promising, "Later," even as you felt her pout against your lips. We both knew the constraints of our current setting – technically, we were both 'working.'

The thought of it caused you to shift uncomfortably in the plush seat, the tight confines of the limo amplifying your discomfort. Sensing your unease, Minjeong's perceptive eyes locked onto you, her concern evident in the soft whisper that brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

"You okay, baby?" Her voice was laced with genuine concern, and her touch felt like a soothing balm against my nerves.

You nodded, but the heat building up between your legs made it hard to focus. Instinctively, you started rubbing your thighs together, hoping to alleviate the growing warmth pulsating through your body.

"Yeah," You managed to stutter out, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes involuntarily drifted to the faint outline of Minjeong's bulge visible through her pants, the sight only adding to the turmoil of sensations swirling inside you.

Minjeong's gaze followed yours, and in that moment, understanding flashed in her eyes. Without a word, her hands moved lower, trailing down to rub your ass in a reassuring gesture.

Realizing the need for privacy, Minjeong swiftly took charge, her voice firm as she addressed the driver, "Driver, roll up the partition and turn up the music, please." The driver met her gaze through the rearview mirror, acknowledging her request before discreetly raising the partition, effectively shielding us from prying eyes and granting us the privacy we craved. As the music filled the air, drowning out the outside world, a sense of intimacy enveloped us, heightening the anticipation of what was to

She gripped my face with a gentle urgency, pulling me closer until you could feel her warm breath teasing your lips. "Were you thinking about earlier, baby?" she asked softly, her thumb tracing the outline of your lips as her eyes bore into yours.

Caught in her intense gaze, you could only nod in response, feeling a rush of desire coursing through you at her touch and the memories of our earlier encounter flooding back.

"You're so dirty, baby," Minjeong husked, her voice low and seductive, sending a shiver down your spine. "Getting horny while we have an after-party to go to?"

Her words ignited a fire within you, and you could feel the heat pooling between your thighs, aching for her touch. With a playful smirk, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against hers teasingly. "Maybe I just can't resist you," You whispered, your voice laced with anticipation and desire, before capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, losing yourself in the intoxicating taste of her.

Minjeong responded eagerly, her lips moving against yours with a fervor that mirrored your own. The world outside the limo faded away as we indulged in the electric chemistry between us, our bodies pressed together in a tantalizing embrace.

Her hands roamed over your body, igniting trails of fire wherever they touched. You gasped softly as her fingers traced the curve of your waist, sending shivers down your spine. With each touch, the hunger between us grew.

Minjeong's breath hitched as she pushed you down onto your knees in front of her, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. With eager hands, she fumbled with the button of her pants, her excitement evident in the way she trembled. Finally, she managed to undo them, and with a quick tug, she yanked them down, revealing her throbbing cock straining against her underwear.

A string of precum connected her tip to the fabric as she freed herself, the slick fluid dribbling down her length. She didn't waste any time, grabbing your hair roughly and guiding your mouth to her needy member.

"Suck it, baby," she moaned, her voice thick with lust as she thrust her hips forward, pushing her cock deeper into your mouth. You gagged slightly at the sudden invasion, but Minjeong only groaned in pleasure, loving the sensation of your mouth enveloping her.

Her movements became increasingly erratic as she chased her own pleasure, thrusting into your mouth with abandon. Precum dribbled down your chin as she lost herself in the sensation, her breaths coming out in ragged gasps. It was messy, sloppy, and utterly intoxicating.

Tears welled up in your eyes as Minjeong relentless thrusting caused your mascara to streak down your cheeks, mixing with the precum and saliva already coating your face. Sensing your distress, Minjeong eased up slightly, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

With a firm grip, she wiped away the smudged lipstick, a brief respite before plunging back into the intense rhythm. "You look so fucking hot with your makeup running," she growled, her voice thick with desire. "You're such a good little cocksucker for me."

Her words sent a shiver down your spine as she pushed you back onto her throbbing cock, the wet sounds of your mouth eagerly accepting her filling the room. "That's it, take it all," she urged, her voice dripping with need. "You love sucking my cock, don't you? You're my filthy little slut, and I'm gonna use your mouth until I'm satisfied."

Your muffled moans and the sound of her hips meeting your face filled the air as Minjeong lost herself in the pleasure of fucking your face.

she gripped your hair tighter, guiding your head back and forth along her throbbing length. With each forceful thrust, she buried herself deeper into your mouth, reveling in the sensation of your warm, wet lips wrapping around her.

"Oh, fuck, you're gonna make me cum," she groaned, her voice strained with ecstasy. "You like that, huh? You like making me feel this good?"

You could only whimper in response, the overwhelming pleasure and intensity of the moment rendering you speechless as she continued to fuck your face with abandon.

Her breathing grew ragged as she neared the edge, her movements becoming more erratic with each passing second. "That's it, take it all," she panted, her grip on your hair tightening even further. "You're such a fucking good cocksucker, you know that? I'm gonna cum so hard down your throat."

With one final, desperate thrust, Minjeong reached her climax, her body tensing as she emptied herself into your mouth with a guttural moan of pleasure. Hot spurts of cum coated your tongue, the taste overwhelming and intoxicating as she rode out her orgasm with abandon.

As she finally began to come down from the peak of her pleasure, Minjeong collapsed against you, her breathing heavy and labored. "Fuck," she breathed, a satisfied grin spreading across her face.  "Fuck, baby, you made me feel amazing," Minjeong huskily whispered in your ear, her voice dripping with desire. With a tender kiss, she pulled you closer to her, the warmth of her lips igniting a fire within you. Then, with a sudden movement, she pushed you over the seat so that your ass was presented to her.

Her hands eagerly hiked up the bottom of your dress, revealing your soaked underwear which she wasted no time in yanking down and stuffing into her pocket. The cool air against your exposed skin sent shivers down your spine as anticipation built within you.

Without warning, Minjeong delivered a series of hard slaps to your ass, each one sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body and leaving red marks in their wake. You couldn't help but jerk in response to the delicious sting, your senses heightened with desire.

With a firm grip, Minjeong then began to rub her hardened length between your ass cheeks, the friction sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. Her tip teased your entrance, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach, driving you wild with anticipation.

"Ready for me, baby?" she growled, her voice laced with lust as she teased you mercilessly. "I'm going to make you feel so fucking good, you won't be able to think straight."

The leather seats creaked beneath you, adding to the primal atmosphere. Minjeong wasted no time, her hands gripping your hips with a fierce intensity. "Fuck, you look so fucking hot like this," she growled, her voice rough with desire as she admired the sight before her. "You're mine to fuck however I want, understand?"

You could only nod in response, the anticipation building within you as you waited for her next move. With a sudden thrust, Minjeong entered you with force, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips as she filled you completely.

Her movements were rough and primal, each thrust driving you deeper into ecstasy as the limo rocked with the intensity of your passion. "You love taking my cock, don't you?" she taunted, her voice dripping with dominance. "You're such a fucking slut for me, begging for more."

With each thrust, she pushed you closer and closer to the edge, her dirty talk fueling the fire burning between you. The sound of your moans and the slap of skin against skin echoed in the confined space, a symphony of pleasure as Minjeong claimed you as her own.

Your moans filled the air, a symphony of pleasure mixing with the sound of Minjeong's own primal groans. The limo rocked with the intensity of your passion, each thrust driving you deeper into ecstasy.

Minjeong's grip on your hips tightened as she increased the pace, her movements becoming even rougher as she claimed you completely. "That's it, baby, take it all," she growled, her voice filled with raw desire. "You're mine, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

Her words sent a jolt of excitement through you, igniting a fire within as you surrendered completely to the pleasure of being dominated by her. With each powerful thrust, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, the intensity building with each passing moment.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Minjeong moaned, her own pleasure mingling with yours as she relentlessly pounded into you. The sound of her voice, thick with lust, only fueled your desire further, driving you both to the brink of ecstasy.

Minjeong flipped you onto your back, her movements swift and assertive. As you lay there, breathless and trembling with anticipation, she wasted no time straddling you, her eyes blazing with desire.

With a wicked grin, Minjeong positioned herself above you, her cock throbbing with need as she guided it towards your entrance. With a slow, deliberate motion, she pushed inside you, the sensation causing you to arch your back in pleasure.

As she began to move, her hips rolling in a relentless rhythm, you felt a delicious pressure building in your abdomen, a tummy bulge forming where her cock pressed against you from the inside. The sensation only added to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body, driving you to new heights of ecstasy.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Minjeong groaned, her voice thick with desire as she rode you with increasing fervor. "You feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this."

Her words sent shivers of pleasure down your spine as you surrendered completely to the sensation of being filled by her, your moans mingling with hers in a symphony of ecstasy. As Minjeong continued to thrust into you with primal intensity, her desire reached a fever pitch. With a guttural moan of pleasure, she leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear.

"Fuck, I want to put a baby in you," she growled, her voice thick with lust and longing. "I want to fill you up so good that you end up pregnant."

With each powerful thrust, Minjeong's words echoed in your mind, fueling the fire burning between you as you both surrendered to the overwhelming ecstasy of the moment. "Don't you want me to fill you up, baby?" she growled, her voice thick with desire. "Don’t you want me to pump you so full of my cum since your pussy is practically begging for a baby?"

Your moans of pleasure only fueled her primal need as she continued to pound into you relentlessly. "Yeah, that's it," she taunted, her voice dripping with lust. "You're gonna be so fucking full of me, you won't be able to walk straight for days. And when you're pregnant with my baby, you'll know who made you feel this good."

With each thrust, she drove the point home, her dirty talk sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. The idea of her filling you with her seed, of creating new life together, only intensified the passion between you. She flipped you onto your side, her hands gripping your hips with possessive force.

With a primal hunger in her eyes, Minjeong buried herself deep inside you, her thrusts growing more urgent with each passing moment. The limo rocked with the intensity of your passion as you both surrendered to the raw, unbridled desire coursing through your veins.

With each powerful thrust, Minjeong's grip on your hips tightened, her primal instincts taking over as she claimed you completely. "You're mine," she growled, her voice filled with possessive need. "Mine to fuck and fill with my seed."

As Minjeong's primal desire drove her movements, you found yourself lost in the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. With each powerful thrust, you couldn't help but moan in ecstasy, the sensation of her filling you completely driving you wild.

"Yes, Minjeong, just like that," you moaned, your voice filled with desperation and longing. "Right there, baby, right there."

Your words only fueled Minjeong's primal hunger as she continued to pound into you with relentless passion. The sound of your moans mingled with hers in a symphony of ecstasy, echoing through the confines of the limo.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Minjeong groaned, her voice thick with desire as she continued to pound into you with primal urgency.

The sensation of her throbbing inside you pushed you over the edge, and with a loud cry of pleasure, you felt your body convulse in ecstasy as waves of pleasure washed over you.

"Minjeong, yes!" you moaned, your voice filled with ecstasy as you surrendered completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

Minjeong reached her own climax, her body tensing as she emptied herself into you with a guttural moan of pleasure.

Minjeong gently pulled you on top of her, guiding you to sit astride her lap. Her cock still buried deep inside you, her cum leaking out of your swollen pussy, serving as a reminder of the passionate encounter you both shared.

With tender care, Minjeong began to rub your back in soothing circles, her touch a comforting balm to help you calm down from the intensity of your orgasm. Each stroke of her hand was a gesture of tenderness, a silent reassurance of her affection for you.

Just as you were beginning to catch your breath, a sudden knock on the window startled you both. "Miss Kim, we are here," a voice called from outside.

Minjeong's grip on you tightened slightly as she glanced towards the window, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. "Okay, give us a bit," she responded, her voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and resignation.

As the driver's presence reminded you of the outside world, Minjeong's question brought you back to reality. "You still want to go, baby?" she asked softly, her gaze searching yours for reassurance.

Feeling a strong desire to remain wrapped up in the intimacy you shared, you shook your head no, a silent affirmation of your desire to stay together.

Minjeong nodded in understanding, a tender smile gracing her lips as she signaled to the driver. "Just drive us back to the hotel," she instructed, her voice firm yet gentle.

With a nod of acknowledgment, the driver pulled away from the curb, leaving the rest of the world behind as the two of you retreated into the private sanctuary of the hotel.

[grimesgirll]

somewhat obsessed with the idea of wearing rick’s boxers.

it’s like second nature to you. it has to be.

after every time you slid into bed, every time rick and daryl strip you of your own undergarments, every time they fuck you dumb, everytime rick maneuvers you into your position bundled against his chest, you’re wearing a pair of his boxers.

the two had been surprised at first when they found you face down on the bed after a long day in nothing but a tiny tank top and rick’s blue and white striped boxers.

it took everything in them not to pounce on you right then and there. but when you woke up, you were more than happy to fess up to stealing rick’s boxers to wear as shorts.

rick could barely contain himself one afternoon in alexandria. you were taking judith on a wholesome stroll but you were wearing a pair of pale blue boxer shorts with a soft, white long sleeve and one of rick’s white button ups thrown on. later, he had to explain to you that he wasn’t snubbing you when you caught sight of him and tried to wave him over, just trying to keep his zipper from busting.

you had just laughed and quipped that they were the perfect bottoms.

from then on, rick found his boxer shorts going missing; on runs, he’d found you in the men’s underwear section, stripping down to try on a pair of striped ralph lauren boxers. that’s how the two of you ended up sweating and shamelessly blushed out on the cramped car ride home.

the rose painting your countenance couldn’t cease because you knew you smelled like sex. rick too. from the creamy ring you’d left around his cock as he lifted you off of him and onto the mahogany sales table, you knew you two had overdone it. with the wide block of time you had today to secure supplies, rick felt free to fuck your pussy twice, filling you up enough to have you seen stars on the sales floor.

all because you’d styled his underwear as shorts.

daryl teases his friend about it.

“can’t even wake up without seein’ her in ‘em and gettin’ hard.”

daryl’s a hypocrite however.

even the woodsman isn’t immune to your figure in those boyish bottoms.

it’s twenty-five minutes into your small game hunt when daryl’s hands are in your boxers. you had actually wanted to catch a rabbit or some quail, but once your boyfriend’s fingers are between your folds, you can’t find the will to complain.

the two of you start with him holding you against a hemlock, arms wrapping around you while he fingers you nice and slow, boxers down around your ankles. as he massages your plush walls, daryl counts how casual you are about going commando as one of his blessings.

then it turns. then suddenly there’s a pine needle in your mouth. you spit the green thing out and try to brace yourself against the forest floor. it had happened so fast; his tongue tag teaming you with his fingers to crack you open like a safe in record time. then you were face down with nothing but a denim jacket quickly strewn beneath you.

you love when he or rick spring this kinda thing on you - it’s spontaneous, wild, a little risky in all the right ways. yes, most nights you’d prefer to be rolled up into a blanket burrito with your boys and a glass of wine but the adventures like this really do something for you.

pupils expanded, your chest is heavy when daryl’s the first to come out of your post-romp fog and collect your boxers. your legs are still shaking when the fabric touches your skin.

“daryl!”

you’d protested when the man began to pull up your boxer briefs. full of his cum, you want to clean up before you soil your bottoms but daryl disregards the swats to his hands. slightly annoyed, you hurried ahead of him through the tract of woods back towards alexandria. it’s fine. he just enjoyed the view of your ass.

complaints crawl out of your mouth as soon as you’re in the door and you’re haphazardly hanging your rifle on the wall. daryl brings in the rear behind you while you’re stomping up the stairs to rick.

your chocolate curled lover is taking off his watch, ready to drop it into the ceramic dish on the dresser when you appear next him, shimmying down your bottoms in a huff.

“hey, darlin’,” he greets, expecting more than a scowl from you.

“hey,” you reply curtly, face still in a pout.

“-make sure you don’t take off those boxers, baby-,” daryl stops dead in his tracks at the sight of your bared pussy in the bedroom lamplight. rick’s also taking it in, eyes trailing from your waist to the trimmed bush, and the puffy pink pussy peeking out, now leaking with daryl’s sticky cum.

you bend over to pick up the soiled shorts. “you’re not the only one who likes these,” you point out.

blue eyes narrow. but before he can give you any lip, you’re giving him not one, but both of yours. smashed against your mouth, rick’s tongue delves between those pillowy lips while walking you towards the bed where daryl’s waiting to situate you on his lap once more. daryl’s antics weren’t enough to turn off the blazing furnace between your legs. no, your temper can handle a few more rounds. it’s not hard when your mind paces back to the eye rolling, all consuming inferno that had cyclones through your core.

they trap you in a kiss. sandwiched between both of their hard ons, you’re shifting and grinding in each direction.

“thought you were pissed off with me,” daryl breathes into your ear, fingertips skimming your waist.

you snort, leaning back into him to grant full access to your bared neck. without hesitation, he’s licking a wicked pattern up the column of your neck. “dare’,” you sigh. gasp after gasp, you melt into his touch.

daryl’s hands are beneath the fat of your rear already and all of the sudden, one of rick’s fingers has snaked its way down to your clit. the fervid flicking against your ardor flush tissue culls any anger you could have towards the two men. you can’t even think about holding a grudge once rick gets a finger into you. at two fingers, daryl’s kissing you with the ferocity of a wildfire. three fingers inside of you and you’re babbling;

“rick, faster, please.”

“what was that?”

“please - faster, can you please?”

the grin on his face is as wide as the pacific. his lips turn upwards into a sly smile. “you want somethin’ a little faster, darlin’?” you shake your head as if it’s obvious. he hmmphs. “you oughta’ sit on daryl’s cock.”

you can’t imagine a world where that’s an unpopular idea.

back onto daryl you go.

those hands at your hips come in handy; daryl raises you a few inches once rick’s removed his fingers. eyes focused on rick and the way his mouth closes around one pruning finger. sucking it clean while daryl’s tip brushes your slick entrance. any yearning radiating off of you can’t be hidden. that kind of heat and wetness down between your thighs is no lie.

so a hiss is to be expected when the muscled man wiggles his way into you. rick is saving a mental image of you - adjusting to the familiar stretch of daryl. your blush doesn’t ease once daryl works another half inch inside.

one moment you’re trying to process daryl’s cock as it’s suddenly seated in you to the hilt. the next rick catches your gaze again. this time he’s doing more than teasing you, taking advantage of your parted lips to invade with his tongue.

“rick,” you mumble against his lips.

“you gettin’ close, angel?”

“should feel ‘er,” daryl rasps. with each thrust of his you’re clinging to rick. “so fuckin’ tight like you didn’t get this perfect pussy fucked in the woods.”

“that’s where you guys went?”

your mischevious grin is hidden in the crook of rick’s necks. the telltale tightening around daryl’s length is all consuming. your grin turns into an open “o” shape when daryl drags across your cervix. sensations from your convulsing core are consuming him too.

that same lust from the woods washes over daryl like the tide and you’re the moon, pulling him in and leading him to crash into you. usually this is rick’s wheelhouse, but one glance into daryl’s darkened pupils and you’re ripped from rick. on top of daryl’s lap, you’re wrapped in his arms, bouncing up and down on the rock hard cock beneath you. he sets the pace while you can only claw at his chest. he returns the favor and reaches forward to palm your tit, relishing in your sweet moans when he rolls a hardened bud between two fingers.

riding him on the bed is such a break for your knees compared to the forest floor. gyrating your hips activates not only the core that keeps you fit but the molten hot bundle of nerves at your core. daryl ruts against you deliciously to deliver just the perfect level of pressure.

rick can’t help but be bewitched at everything unfolding on the surface of the mattress. daryl’s length disappears inside out of you, reappearing with each erratic movement of your hips. there’s no reason to be jealous but if looks could kill, daryl’d be dead simply for the privilege of burying himself inside those heavenly walls.

meanwhile, heat bursts down below like a mini neutron star collision within you. forehead cast with sweat, the energy is fading from your movements as you messily move your pelvis to brush against daryl.

a “fuck, baby,” escapes from his lips and you’re done for. and so is he.

shooting into the sheets and collapsing by your side. you’re prepared to slide into daryl’s embrace when there’s suddenly a familiar feeling breaching your bared pussy.

nails dig into your hips and daryl’s back at it again - lapping his tongue up and down your slit. you were thinking that you two would at least catch your breaths but daryl’s taking no breaks. rick isn’t either.

in true rick fashion, he’s tapping your lips with his impressive cock. how can you say no to that?

you open your mouth and moan around his cock once you feel those devious fingers in your hair. it’s like that sense of overwhelm’s been replicated again. tongue against your clit and yours on the underside of rick, you never imagined your afternoon going this way. all this thanks to your little fashion trend.

“princess, your mouth feels amazing.”

you bob your head in appreciation. just like daryl’s taking care of you, you’re taking your time swallowing around the man in your mouth, treating him to the tight embrace of your throat.

“you like gettin’ a cock down your throat while daryl licks you stupid?”

“mhmmm!” you nod forward onto rick.

as soon as your moans reach daryl’s ears, his tongue’s kicking into hyperdrive. goaded by your delightful little whimpers, daryl begins swabbing a vicious pattern across your folds. the redneck alternates between racing over your sopping tissue to flattening that tongue and saddle you with a finger.

“ooommph,” is the only sound that comes out with rick’s steel hard cock down your throat.

spit slick, rick throbs in your mouth. that painful hardness he’s enduring is granted some sweet relief by your hollowed cheeks. you don’t stop there. driven by the lust addled, cock crazy part of your brain, you’re fully sending rick down your airway. breaths come briefly when he lets you up for air or to howl or cry, “dare’!”

right on time, your core is heating up again. the kiln inside of you scorches. neutralizing you, the ecstasy of another orgasm has you nearly folding into your leader. the blue eyed sheriff even leans back, tugging you up by the hair to keep you from actually choking on his cock. daryl’s diligent puckering around all of your important parts is overwhelming you against, a strategic hand on your clit as well.

as if you were all in sync, rick comes in your mouth first, fingers weaving through your gossamer locks while your thighs quake. you gag at first, before swirling your tongue under the twitching cock and swallowing it all. like a good girl.

once rick’s coming undone, daryl continues swirling his tongue around you. your pussy weeps for him. it contracts around his tongue until even rick’s raising his eyebrows at the vulgar slurping sounds filling the room.

“dare’,” you whine.

“gonna’ be a good girl and come all over dare’s tongue?” rick teases.

“yes, please!” you beg, banging a fist against the sheets.

“you gonna’ let daryl taste all of that perfect pussy?”

tears well in your eyes from the overstimulation but you nod as enthusiastically as possible. “pleeaase!”

you don’t have to ask again because you’re too busy arching into your third orgasm of the day. clenching and unclenching, your insides flutter. “ah!”

“so pretty when you come, baby.”

you’re dissolving into rick’s touch as your climax rings through your cunt. starry eyed and panting the pleasure out through your lungs.

you could fall asleep right there. and you do.

it ends as it always does.

following the flush and the lips leaving the surface of your skin, you feel a familiar fabric traveling up your thighs and double kisses mandating that nap that had been on your mind. the bed and the cozy comfort of sleep swallows you whole. rick too. he can never get close enough, not when you’re wearing his boxers.

[veneerslipstick]

˚୨୧⋆yes, & i love you｡˚ ⋆

velvet x FEM!reader

• one shot

• fluff/slight angst

velvet, the pop star every girl strived to be, had met you at a meet-and-greet, recognized you from highschool and instantly made you her #2 — not necessarily her assistant but accompanied her on every shopping trip, dress rehearsal and personal meetings to discuss her opportunities for her career.

but you were quite more than just her dresser. from the heart melting tension to the pain you felt each time you were away from eachother turns more and more intense as time goes by.

you knew what you wanted, and by her longing gaze before fleeting to a show, you knew she knew too, but was she committed to her feelings as much as you?

˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° . ˚ · • . ° .

“what do you mean my cards been declined?”

“ma’am, i-“

“try it again!” velvet protested, waving her credit

card in the air and her other hand balling into a fist.

you stood there , holding shopping bags all up your

arms and smiling nervously at the cashier.

awkwardly, you walked over to velvet and put your

hand out, her hesitating for a second but placing the

card on your palm and crossing her arms ignorantly.

you inserted the card into the machine, waited

patiently and it beeped.

“perfect!” the cashier exclaimed, looking relieved

whilst looking at you , mouthing ‘thank you’. you

nodded at her and looked to velvet. she rolled her

eyes and picked up a few bags.

“yeah yeah, don’t look at me like that. let’s go.”

both of you headed out of Ralph Lauren and into the

parking lot, where you loaded the bags into the back

of the limo, and getting into the car. you sat next to

velvet , a couple inches away, and she melted into

the seat.

“UGH, that was exhausting.” velvet whined, her eyes

falling closed. you admired the purple, sparkly

eyeshadow she had on, which you yourself put on

her that morning. you suddenly remembered how

close she was to you and how you could smell her

strawberry cream perfume. you blinked and looked

down, giggling.

“girl, i don’t think you could last a REAL full day of

shopping. you’d collapse.” you joked. velvet opened

her eyes, furrowing her eyebrows with a small smile.

“what do you mean a REAL day of shopping?”

you smiled and crossed your legs.

“nine to five, shopping alllll day without stopping and

coming home with blisters and your makeup ruined.”

velvet scoffed and kicked you gently with her boot.

“i could so do that, don’t test me y/n.” she shot back,

leaning in slightly to intimidate you. you stuck your

tongue out at her.

“game on , 30$ says you’ll give up within the half

hour.”

velvet rolled her eyes and laid down on the seat,

crossing her legs.

“don’t even with that.” she murmured, leaving you

giggling to yourself.

after the car ride from one of vels assistant, you both

escorted and velvet was snappy with getting other

assistants to bring the bags inside. you felt awkward

whenever she did that, like you were useless in the

situation, and it was even worse when you weren’t

even the celebrity , so you had no right to be

standing there with nothing in your hands. but,

whatever velvet says goes, so you carried on.

entering her and veneers mansion, you took a

glimpse to the chandelier over head of you. no matter

how many times you’ve walked into this room, you’re

still taken aback by the beauty of the shining crystals

and the cream light that poured over it.

“do you want one? i can easily get one. everytime i

see you you’re eye eating that thing.” velvet intrudes,

pulling out her phone.”

“NO, no. i don’t want one, this one is just specifically

pretty. it’s nice to be able to walk into the room with

it glowing.” you continued to gaze over it, your eyes

shining like beads and your lips pulled into a soft

smile.

velvet watched you, staring at your eyes as she bit

the inside of her cheek. she felt a pang in her chest,

but couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. clearing her

throat, she turned around and headed for her

staircase.

“come, we can find places for the clothes then finally

pick out a nail colour for tomorrow.” she stated, you

weren’t slow to catch up to her.

now in her room of many rewards on shelves and

carpet flooring, velvet groaned when she saw all the

shopping bags on the floor.

“they could have AT LEAST put them down neatly.”

she grumbled. you noticed overtime that she was the

picky type, and not just rich picky, but things had to

be exactly right in her eyes or everything would go to

hell. you walked to the bags and started going

through the clothes, sorting between color , fabrics,

tops and bottoms. after sorting, you began putting

away everything, and velvet was right at your side.

“for the polish, i was thinking arctic blue that’s

marble with light blue, and maybe light glitter? no

wait that’s stupid..” she speaks as you fold and hang

clothing on hangers in her walk in closet, right at

your hip and throwing her hands in your face.

sometimes you think she forgets how comfortable

she is around you.

“what’s your favourite color again?” she asks out of

the blue.

“f/c.” you mumble.

she stares at you for a moment,

not saying anything and then groaning, swatting

clothes out of your hands and pulling you by the

wrist out of the closet. “it’s like talking to a wall.” she

mumbles, acting all pissy, but in reality she just

wanted your attention.

you both sit on her king sized bed, her laying down

on the bed on her back, crossing her legs (she does

this a lot, you never knew why) and looking at her

nails. she continues to ramble about polish and how

it’ll match her performance outfit, then how she

hated the outfit, and how she hated the smell of

detergent, then.. you got a little lost. you you look

down at her, one leg tucked under you and your hand

down on the mattress holding yourself up.

“vel,” you started and she stopped. “what?”

“take a second girl. you’ve been pent up about

this nonstop , just breathe.” you grinned and her

expression softened slightly. her shoulders loosened

up and you noticed her jaw stopped flexing. she

opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then

opened again; “if i asked you to do something

stupid , what would you say?”

you scanned her eyes. “yes. i would say yes

everytime.”

your expression was so serious it

frightened her for a moment. you remembered to

relax and smiled a little. “well, cause, it’s hard to say

no to a celebrity. or whatever.” you bettered , velvet

rolling her eyes in exaggeration.

“i’m being serious, y/n.”

“oh are you? that’s shocking.”

“hm, yeah, jackass.”

“you adore me though.”

silence. she stared at you with her beady , deep blue

eyes. they were similar to spears, threatening to

attack and not being able to look away. she laid on

the bed , her green curls and locks spread on the

satin sheets like a painting. if only it were a painting,

she couldn’t have looked more beautiful.

“y/n,” she whispered , a smile pulling at the corner of

her mouth. you hummed in response, her legs falling

to the side that brushed your arm. her eyelids hung

low as she looked at you. a magnet in your stomach

pulled you closer to her,

and you let it.

you leaned down to her, hearing her breath hitch in

her throat and her lips parting the further you leaned

down. but her headed to started to shake, her eyes

fell closed and her breathing got shaky.

“no.. no, no no” she whispered , sitting up and

backing away. you panicked for a moment and

leaned away from her , raising your hands.

“h-hey, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you

uncomfortable,” you spat out and she still shook her

head.

“this.., this can’t happen. get out please.” she

murmured.

you froze, your expression completely falling. “what?”

“i said get out.” she snapped , pointing to the door,

her eyes red and hot and you wondered what her

tears looked like oh you wondered how her tears felt ,

“okay.” you whispered with a voice crack, feeling a

lump in your throat and getting up from her bed. you

turned and headed out her door, closing it slowly and

feeling your stomach twist and churn as you heard

the door click.

everything had felt right, why had she acted like it

was so out of the blue? did you misunderstand? no,

you couldn’t have. that look in her eye. the contact,

the way she seemed to have pulled your soul from

your throat.

ohhh, she had you. had you by the strings.

eyes watering, you found your way out of the house

and went somewhere. you didn’t really know where.

anywhere was nowhere without her.

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊

the next day…

yes, you had eventually made it home. after a long

night of contemplating and trying to tear the pit out

of your stomach, you fell asleep on your couch at

4am. you decided to head to velvet and veneers

dressing room early. usually you went with velvet, but

you decided there was no point. there you prepped

their makeup and hair products , anything to keep

yourself busy. it wasn’t your job, it was crimps, but

you couldn’t care less. sometimes you felt like you

did more than her.

as you were laying out makeup brushes, eyes half

open from exhaustion, you heard the door knob

rattling. you had locked the door without realizing it,

so you went to open it. you were then face to face

with a messy up-do velvet with her casual gold mini

skirt and gold top that was paired with pearl earrings

and a white pendant. you felt that churn in your

stomach that came as a familiar feeling. you forced a

smile and opened the door wide open for her.

“good morning vel,” you murmured, her walking in

and scanning the room.

“you didn’t have to.. do any of that. you aren’t

supposed to.” she says almost defensively, putting

her purse down and avoiding eye contact. leaning

against the wall with your hands in your pockets, you

gazed at her. “i didn’t think it mattered.” you replied

with a tone you didn’t recognize.

she didn’t respond, only cleared her throat and

pulled the elastic out of her hair, her loose, flowing

hair falling over her shoulders. you noticed her nails,

but didn’t catch a glimpse of what she did with them.

“what uh…” you started, feeling a lump forming in

your throat. you tried to gulp it down and she looked

at you.

“what color did you do your nails?” you asked. she

looked down at them, seeing her face freeze.

“f/c. the marble.. i was talking about.”

you felt like she kicked you in the stomach. you

shook your head and stood straight.

“velvet. what…what is this? cmon, please.” you

looked her in the eye as your voice broke. you could

tell she was trying to hide an emotion, by the way her

eyebrows twitched and her eyes darted from wall to

wall.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. stop, y/n.”

she said monotonously, sitting down in her vanity

chair and easing a brush through her hair.

“wanna pass me a claw clip?” her tone changed, like

she was completely over it.

you watched her through the mirror, hating how you

felt like a neglected dog. you didn’t bite.

“fine. then i’ll.. i’ll go. crimp will be here soon.” you

picked up your jacket and opened the door.

“no.. no y/n don’t go, don’t go,” she looked panicked

and got up rushing to you , grabbing onto the sleeve

of your jacket. she let go almost instantly. you stood

there, looking at her with your head turned, and you

closed the door, not looking away from her.

“then talk to me.”

“i-i don’t, this isn’t.. good. for my image. for all of

them. i can’t have this, it would cause a wreck in the

media. it won’t work..” she stood so close to you, her

breathing shaky. you furrowed your eyebrows

slightly. it started to click, or so you thought.

“oh. oh, what because your fame is more important

than your feelings? is that it? velvet. you’re better

than this. don’t choose people who love you by first

impression over someone who would walk to the

ends of the earth for—“ she shook her head which

cut you off.

“no, that’s not..” her eyes began to glisten, trying to

fight her worst fear.

“i wish you were a boy.”

your blood ran cold. as if things couldn’t get any

worse, she pulls that card. you stood there like an

idiot; when you should’ve walked away there and

then. you couldn’t get yourself to.

“oh.” you couldn’t tell if you genuinely spoke or if it

was in your head. she batted her eyelashes at you

and it was similar to knives being plummeted in your

throat.

“this is just how it’s supposed to be. you’re supposed

to help me with clothes and makeup and be my

fashion designer , i just do what im—“

“i could make you feel more than any man ever

could. you know that.” you became slightly

aggravated. you knew she ddint actually want this,

and hell if you did. she turned around and you took

her wrist gently, stepping towards her.

“don’t run from this.”

“y/n, please,”

“we’re meant to be girls together, just try—“

“don’t push this, y/n, y/n i cant —“

“i wasn’t lying.” you said disconnectedly. she looked

back at you.

“if you ever asked me to do something crazy. i’d say

yes. if you asked me to climb mount Everest in a

dress, i’d say yes. if you asked me to be with you,”

you glided your hand down her arm and took her

hand.

“i’d say yes, and i love you.” you could feel the

magnet again, threatening to collapse out of

exhaustion.

“…don’t, don’t…” velvet found herself leaning towards

you with tears smudged at her waterline. and she

kissed you. and she kissed you with a sigh, with a

broken promise. a single tear from her fell to your

cheek, and somehow that pulled you closer together.

you broke apart, looking into eachother eyes, and

didn’t notice your hands squeezing with intertwined

fingers. you rose her hand up and pushed it against

her chest.

“figure yourself out first. you can’t rip my heart out

then eat it.” your own words hurt to say, but you

knew if things would work out, both of you needed

this.

she looked hurt, keeping her hand to her chest even

when you pulled yours away. velvet wiped her face

and cleared her throat. “okay.”

the door swung open.

“god damn janitors, jesus chr.. i just fell on my ass,

vel. no one knows how to dry floors apparently.”

veneer burger in whining , crimp following behind

him. you looked at him, then back at velvet.

who was staring at her nails.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　° ┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　　

holy poop that took longer than it should’ve to write.. i’m sorry friends school and work is stressful and i’m trying to find time to work on this stuff 😞 anyway i loved writing this sm i think i captured velvets crudeness and soft side pretty well lolz, i’ll rewrite a happy ending if a lot of u want one bc i have so much tooth rotting fluff ideas for her 💗💗 anywayyyy im getting a couple of requests so ill make sure to get to them <3 TYSM FOR TJE SUPPORT AHAIN ILY ALL

[angelkiyo]

modern au high school hcs for my fav haikyuu boys based on my high school experiences + romance hcs <3

[miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, oikawa torū, iwaizumi haijime]

a/n- part one + my asks are open bc i do not know what to write but im down for mostly anything tbh so ASK AWAY PLS

miya osamu

he has a similar gpa to his brother [gpa at a 2.5 😔]

is in culinary club and the president

since atsumu is a drake glazer, osamu makes sure to bring up kendrick everytime he hears a drake song

he had a field day when “not like us” mv dropped

even though his brother and him are opposites in a way, that hasn’t stopped osamu from being submitted on ‘inarizaki.bops’

he was most likely talking to a teacher

private insta with 300 followers

doesn’t give a fuck abt p.e and would be enjoying basketball if they weren’t able to play volleyball

osamu would probably also have a very casual way of dressing — stussy and abrocrombie fiend

steals from his brother’s nike collection while owning several pairs adidas gazelles and new balances himself

as for with his s/o, he would be more of a soft launch guy and would post stories of you two holding hands or the two of you in a mirror pic

he would def be holding your hand in the halls and having his arm around you

imagine peter k lara jean moment

your friends would find him to be a green flag

the two of you would use study hall to not study at all but use his little crock pot thing he got from tiktok shop and make food

would try to be nara smith one day and fail miserably

very much would wear ‘aqua de gio’ bc i said so (n would find atsumu’s cologne to be too strong)

dates would include: cooking at his place and eating your masterpieces while watching movies (esp spider-man bc he seems the type)

artists he would listen to: kendrick lamar, joey bada$$, childish gambino, doja cat

sakusa kiyoomi

annoyingly smart (3.6 gpa) and would probably get a 4/5 avg on his ap tests

if he wasn’t on volleyball, he seems the type to be in academic decathlon or science olympiad

would be keeping to himself but if he were to play a sport, it would be smt like lacrosse or tennis

he’s rich. like RICH RICH. (he goes to itachiyama with three siblings or smt)

so he’d wear like club monaco, j. crew, or like ralph lauren

would have a specific rotation of shoes that would be asics or new balance in white

insta would be like 700 followers and 32 following

for him and his s/o, he’d be like osamu and would be very much soft launch you

even though he hates crowds, he would very much like to go out with you shopping (in a shopping center that has nobody/barely anyone)

kiyoomi may be presenting himself as a cold and calculating and he can be, but he’s a soft to ppl he’s close with

him and komori would use brain rot language ironically (I just see that lemme elaborate) after komori would use brain rot language unironically

he would use it with you once “by accident”

he kept hearing komori say it and said it subconsciously

and then never again after the second hand embarrassment he got

“on skibidi…?”

you still bring it up to this day (he blames komori)

dates would include movie nights and making pillow forts

artists he would listen to: sza, 21 savage, kanye west, playboi carti

oikawa torū

would be a note taking fiend and be an honors/ap student with a 3.4

he would be on a ‘bop’ page for volleyball in general

great king? nah great bop

instead of being a wyll warrior, he’d be one of the mfks on insta that would slide up with a 😍 then ghost you after dm-ing

another dior sauvage user and on some days, versace eros…

caught up in the central cee madz drama

also obsessed with watching nara smith (me too)

he’s team ice spice

would be very persistent in taking 0.5s

though because of this, he purposely fluffs up his bangs and hair for him to not fall victim to 0.5s

if he didn’t play volleyball, he would play badminton/tennis

would be a SLUTTTT for pinterest clean boy fits

very clean boy core with his lululemon mens shit and would be shopping at alo + urban outfitters

also ralph lauren teddy bear sweaters n golden gooses

his insta user would be smt like “theyenvy_.toruuu” or basic like his full name and he would have more than 3k followers

THOUGH HE WOULD BE MAKING THOSE SHARED POSTS W YOU.

his finsta would be very full of you and spams of volleyball

nle choppa slut me out 2 glazer

dates would include: self care day at either one of your places while watching baddies or real housewives +shopping

artists he would listen to: laufey, cigarettes after sex, olivia rodrigo, megan thee stallion, nle choppa

iwaizumi hajime

he went to uci so he has his shit tgt (nhs and 3.9 type shit w aps)

though, he would definitely be apart of debate club and a lacrosse person if he didn’t do volleyball

shops at psycho bunny or hollister. the occasional lululemon shirt bc oikawa put him on

would wear yeezys and supreme, i fear

i can see him being into watching the “who tf did I marry” series

massive gym bro

would have his finsta tracking his gains

his fyp would also probably be workouts and those “baby don’t hurt me” meme tiktoks (idk how to explain)

would be the winner of senior assassin

he would def shoot oikawa first

type of person to wear ‘obession’ by calvin klein mixed with axe body spray

as for insta, he would def have a good 1k

would post you to the cutest songs ever and collab on posts

HARD LAUNCH TYPA GUY

yall would have like a specific song that would make him be like “this is our songgg”

in his head

most likely a tyler song

aka ‘sweet/i thought you wanted to dance’

he’d be the okokok to your lalalala

dates would include: him just spoiling you and dinner dates

artists he would listen to: tyler the creator, metro boomin, 21 savage, kendrick lamar, j. cole