#tried to make her look like one of the promotional photos

[iceicewifey]

FUCK IT TOMONUI TIME

[buckyalpine]

Actor Bucky x civilian reader 

I’m feeling angsty. Fluffy. Just a thought. But like a long thought. 

-

You should have known this would happen eventually. 

You knew you should have put your phone down and gone to sleep hours ago. Scrolling through social media did nothing to ease you mind as you stared at the 100′s of posts that showed Bucky whispering in her ear with a boyish smile. A sickly feeling spread from your chest, up your neck and to your cheeks, the type of heat that made your throat constrict and your eyes burn. The lump in your throat was painful to swallow, blinking back tears when you clicked on a video that had been shot by the paparazzi and leaked to the press, all the news outlets having a field day with brand new pics of a budding Hollywood romance. 

“Well, there you have it folks! Looks like Winter is warming up over here, stay tuned for more updates” 

“Single no more? Things steam up on the set of The Winter Soldier” 

“Swipe to get a sneak peak on the hottest new romance everyone’s excited about”

You wanted to throw your phone across the room, instead keeping your eyes locked on the way your boyfriend was cozied up with his co-star, the two of them seemingly giggling over an inside joke while taking a break between shoots. Her face was practically tucked into his neck while he laughed, both of them apparently blissfully unaware someone was watching. 

The image turned blurry from unshed tears, squeezing your eyes shut, turning your phone off all together. Your deepest insecurities reared their ugly head, thinking about Bucky’s effortlessly gorgeous co-star with her tall and slim build with curves in the right places. They looked like a dream couple; both attractive with obvious chemistry on screen and based on the “leaked photos”, in real life as well. Every single fear you had over the last few weeks were proved to be true with a few viral pictures. 

- 

Bucky groaned, silencing his phone after getting yet another unknown caller asking him if he’d care to comment on the latest headline about him and the lead actress in his upcoming movie. He ran his hand over his face seeing the way social media blown up overnight after someone had taken pictures taken out of context making it look like he was smitten and in love. His PR team insisted that a few candid shots would be good for promoting the movie and great for his image; when he agreed to having hired paparazzi's take a few “spontaneous” pictures, he thought it would be pictures with the whole cast; not just suggestive close up shots with his co-star that appeared intimate. 

Great.

He’d tried to call you repeatedly, every single one going straight to voicemail and all his texts unanswered. It had been a days since the new broke out and nothing had died down. Bucky hated that he was miles away from you, unable to even send anyone to check on you after you both agreed to keep the relationship a secret. The only person in his life who knew was his best friend, Steve, who was also on set. You’d been so understanding of his career, you hadn’t told a soul to make sure nothing ever leaked. Bucky knew you were used to a few rumors popping up every now and then about him and a potential new girlfriend but this was the first time there was photo evidence. 

New stories popped up like weeds. 

The last straw for him was when he spotted a magazine cover talking about his upcoming wedding and speculation over if there was a secret child on the way.

He couldn’t care less about PR or the movie anymore. A text to the director later, he was in his car driving off straight to you, carefully weaving through traffic while making a pitstop with his best disguise of a hat and sunglasses before speeding off once more. 

-

You sighed at the new stories that were still being posted on your social media feed, locking your phone once more to go back to the book you were reading. You’d ignored all of Bucky's attempts to reach out, choosing to spend less time on your phone, already drowning in insecurities and doubt. You took out a bunch of books from the library and spent more time the kitchen hoping anything would help take your mind off of the love of your life having an affair with another woman. 

The sound of the doorbell pulled you away from your book; you weren’t expecting anyone and it wasn’t usual for any of your friends to stop by in the middle of the afternoon. You were going to ignore it, thinking it was probably someone attempting to sell you something but-

“Y/n, doll I know you’re home, it’s me baby” 

Oh.

Your felt your stomach drop. Heart beating so fast, you could feel your veins tremble in your finger tips. He rang the bell again in hopes that you’d even hit him, smack him, happy to take it, anything to at least see you again. Your emotions swarmed all over the place, anxiety, anger, love, all of it fighting for dominance while you stayed glued to your spot on the couch. 

Asshole.

But that was your Jamie.

Dick.

But you loved him with your whole heart. 

“Babygirl” Bucky pleaded outside of your door, realizing the giant teddy that was 4 times his size and flower bouquet of 100 red roses did nothing to keep him discreet. “Sweetheart, please let me explain” 

You reluctantly opened the door, more worried that if someone saw Bucky at your door, a crowd of fans would end up swarming the area. If not for all the other emotions you were feeling, you almost giggled at the sight of a very wide, puppy eyed Bucky holding a stuffy that was larger than him and a bouquet of flowers that nearly covered his face. You wordlessly stepped out of the way while he dragged the comically large bear into the living room, placing the roses in its caramel fuzzy paws before turning to you.

You.

His pretty doll.

He could see your eyes were still puffy from nights of crying. Your lips were glossy from the balm you used when they were chapped after you’d nervously chew on them. Your poor little nose he loved to boop and kiss so much looked dry from how much you sniffled. Those gorgeous eyes he loved to stare into refused to even look at him, looking at your fluffy sock clad feet instead. You were still wearing a large hoodie of his but you probably hadn’t noticed when you slipped it on. 

Bucky hated it. 

His poor precious doll was so hurt all because of a stupid PR stunt. 

“Baby” You stood rigid as Bucky stepped towards you, his hand coming to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin, “Those pictures, they were taken out of context darling, they weren’t meant to come out like that-

“Then how were they meant to come out” You frowned, moving away till Bucky’s hand dropped, a sad sigh leaving his lips. 

“The team-they thought a few random, candid pictures would garner some publicity to get people talking. I thought they’d post pictures of everyone together, not just me and her”

“That doesn’t explain why you were so close to her” You fidgeted with the long sleeve of the hoodie, this time letting Bucky reach out to hold your hands though you left them limp while he gently squeezed them. “So that was all you then? That’s even worse Bucky” 

“No baby, no” Bucky frantically shook his head, pulling you closer with his hands now on your waist, “I pushed her away the second she got too close but apparently finding your co-star insufferable isn’t good PR. I looked irritated in all the other pictured so they didn’t use them. I promise baby, I’d never do anything to hurt you. I know I did and I’m so sorry, doll” 

While a part of you believed him, the other part of you couldn’t digest the fact that the rest of the world still thought they were a dream couple. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. You didn’t even want to begin to imagine the headlines that would pop up if the public saw you with Bucky. You couldn’t scrub the image away of how perfect they looked together, feeling frumpy and awkward in comparison.

“I can’t be like her Bucky” You struggled to keep your voice steady, not willing to cry in front of someone who clearly could do better even if he looked like he was ready to fall on his knees for you.

And then he did. 

“Y/n, I don’t want you to be her. Or anyone else, I want you” Bucky looked at you with pleading eyes, taking your hands in his and kneeling, pressing his lips to your knuckles. 

“But no one else thinks I deserve you. I thought I’d be okay with you maintaining a single image, I know it’s important for your career but I-I can’t watch interviews with people talking about how perfect you look with someone else, how you both look so in love-

“I’m done”

“What?” Your heart stopped, your hands shaking wondering if done meant he was done dealing with your worries, your insecurities, done with you-

“You’re the one I want. Not anyone else. I couldn’t care less about what others think baby, not when it’s hurting you so much. I want people to know who I’m in love with”

“But-

“If you’re not comfortable with it, I understand. But I don’t want to hide you anymore angel. Never again” 

Movie Premier 

You swallowed thickly, your heart beating out of your chest, fidgeting with the gown you had been dressed in, nervously twirling the ring on your finger. The limo came to a halt, the driver opening the door to a sea of screaming and cheers, a plush red carpet ready for you to step onto. 

“Ready, princess?” Bucky grinned, stepping out of the limo and reaching his hand out for you to take, helping you step out of the car. You gasped at the flashes of cameras and shrieks of fans coming from all sides, everyone trying to get Bucky’s and your attention. 

“James! Over here! Who is your date for the night?” 

“Miss! Miss!” 

“Over there, darling”, Bucky whispered in your ear while you smiled at a different set of photographers, each of them clambering over another to get the best picture of you both. 

“Could you step over here please, great, now one with the young lady, beautiful, James, one more!” 

Bucky simply smiled and nodded, keeping his hand around your waist, guiding you down the red carpet and stopping for more pictures along the way. He skillfully avoided the reporters who called for him, keeping a protective grip around you as you both entered the hall to get seated. Hardly moments later, headlines had already started spreading everywhere, your phone blowing up with messages from friends and family wondering if they were seeing the news articles correctly: 

James Barnes steps out with Mystery woman

Secret lover? James Barnes shocks fans with his premier date

10 things we know about James’s girlfriend

You giggled at the numerous posts that started to pop up on social media, your heart fluttering at the beautiful pictures of Bucky looking at you with heart eyes in every single one. There wasn’t one where he was looking anywhere else, focused on you the entire time and clearly people had noticed. You couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the comments people left, silencing all the doubts you had in your mind.

Get you a man that looks at you the way he looks at her

No wonder he was hiding her, shes gorgeous

I love him but like can someone tell me who SHE is?!

Look at him, he looks like an absolute puppy around her

She’s perfect for him, they’re babies are gonna be BEAUTIFUL 

There goes my chance. I can’t even be mad cause he looks so happy and they look so cute

“What you reading there, baby” Bucky kissed your shoulder, peering over to see what you were looking at on your phone before slipping it away into your clutch. He smirked, sneakily nipping your ear lobe making you gasp before continuing to whisper in your ear. “They’re right you know. You look so beautiful baby, gonna rip this dress off as soon as we get to the hotel room”

“You can’t rip it Bucky, I have to give it back-” You hissed but he wasn’t having any of it, his hand moving to squeeze your thing, grazing your skin from the slit on the dress. 

“I’ll pay for it. But you’re right, I won’t rip it. We’re keeping it, I wanna fuck you all type of ways in that-

“Oh my god” You hushed him with a peck to his devilish lips, your face hot while he gave you a smug smile. He couldn’t wait for the news that would go wild in the next few months.

James Barnes proposes to long time girlfriend, y/n y/l/n

Ready to tie the knot? James and fiancée spotted at wedding venue 

Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Barnes!

James and y/n fly to the Amalfi coast for Honeymoon 

Happy Anniversary to Hollywood's favorite couple

Baby bump or food baby? Y/n Barnes steps out in oversized hoodie for a late night food run

Baby Barnes on the way? 

Double trouble? James reveal’s he and his wife are expecting twins 

y/n Barnes posts first pictures of babies and they couldn’t be cuter 

Bucky couldn’t wait. 

[k-hotchoisan]

mmmmmm been thinkin abt photographer!san right nd he is know for his boudoir photography but his latest client’s got him in a chokehold like god how is she so fuckin sexy nd he can’t focus at all bc fuck all he wants to do is fuck her senseless— HELP

Your wish is my command Angel! Thank you for being patient 😘

As always, enjoy 🩷

snap.

<Choi san x fem!reader>

Synopsis: encouraged by your friend, you give boudoir photography a try after recovering from a break up, you find yourself doing more than just be a model.

Genres/warnings: smut, boudoir photographer!San x model!reader, sexual tension, unprotected sex, cream pies, mention of oral

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

“Boudoir photography?” You reiterate. Your friend nods.

“A friend of a friend of a friend tried it recently and apparently she’s been full of confidence. Her boyfriend adores it too!” Your friend squeals.

You scrunch your eyebrows, wondering how semi-nude photos taken by a professional photographer in this niche would boost one’s confidence.

Your friend’s eyes dart to you again, and then your phone pings. You look at the link your friend sent you. It’s a referral code for a promotion. You turn to her, gaze still dripping with skepticism.

“Come on, just try it. You’re a lovely person and you deserve to see it for yourself! Boudoir photography might really help at not being constantly self critical.”

You weren’t an entirely insecure person, and you were sure of that. It’s just that, after the rough break up with your ex, and seeing them move on instantly (like two fuckin weeks) with a new partner, undoubtedly was a gut punch to your self esteem, while you were still stuck grieving over the lost relationship and wasted time.

You’ve heard of boudoir photography, but you’ve never actually understood the concept of it, considering that it was niche, and that you don’t really know the point of it. You glance down at the referral link before deciding to just fuck it and sign up.

San is working overtime again, meticulously editing and touching up the photos. It’s become a natural part of him to almost be a perfectionist, whether when on the ground taking photos of the model or the post editing process. But he never loses the sight of letting the women shine naturally through their photos. After all, in such a niche market, they picked him. Definitely, he has his mix of male boudoir models, but the women evidently take up a higher ratio. He understands that one of the most important aspects of boudoir photography is trust and comfort with his models, which has them coming back for more sessions, sometimes even with their partners.

Setting up his own business in such a niche market was difficult of course, and he’s grateful that he’s managed to make a name for himself. But sometimes he’s grateful that his good looks are an added bonus to drawing in his clients.

His email pings and it makes him pause his work. Maybe he should finish it tomorrow. San glances at the fresh email that sits in his inbox.

An appointment via referral.

He opens it, and looks through the client’s information. At the bottom box for comments, sits a short question.

[Just wondering, what should I expect for my appointment? Is there anything I should prepare?]

He takes a moment before he drafts a reply.

[Hey there! Nice to meet you. I’m Choi San, boudoir photographer of Woodie’s Studios. First of all, thank you for choosing our studio for your boudoir experience!

Regarding your question, come in with an open mind. For what to wear, you may bring a set of clothes/lingerie of whatever you feel confident in.

I don’t bite, I promise!]

He reads the reply a second time before he hits send. It’s not as if it’s the first time he’s gotten questions like these anyway. His train of concentration is broken, so he decides to call it a night.

You reach the opaque door of a clean-looking studio apartment. The sign has San’s studio name and logo imprinted on it, so you’re sure that you are at the right location.

You press the door bell and it chimes a lovely tune. There is a quiet pause, before the door handle clicks and the door itself pulls back. Before you stood a really, no, an insanely good looking, tall male. His glasses rest loosely on the bridge of his nose as his small eyes meet yours. His brunette hair is slightly messy. He wears an expression of confusion at first, but it turns into something unreadable. You think for a spilt second that he may have gotten the wrong client, but your rationale reminds you that you did send him photos of yourself so he’s able to recognise you. You blink once, then twice because you were starting to get lost at how handsome your photographer was.

“Choi San..?” you say, with a small tilt of your head.

Then it’s his turn to blink, and he snaps out of that small trance he seemed to be caught in for a few seconds. Then a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he greets you.

“Hey! Y/n right? Sorry, was tryna recognise you. I promise I don’t usually take that long to process”, he chuckles, pulling the door wider as he ushers you in, reminding you to switch out your shoes for the apartment slippers.

The hallway San brings you down is brightly lit and spilt into a couple of sections which you assumed one of them would be the photo studio itself. A couple of posters of pin up girls hang on the walls, all of them beautiful and stunning.

He then stops at a glass door and pushes it, to what you assumed to be his office.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Any preferences?”, he gestures. You shake your head as you let yourself sink into the velvet couch, gingerly leaving your bag of clothing beside you. San gives a polite nod and excuses himself to the pantry.

And the moment the door shuts behind him, he tears his glasses off the bridge of his nose and hooks the branch onto his collar.

His hand is placed over his heart.

San has photographed many different women over the course of his career, some breathtakingly beautiful. But none has ever made his heart skip a beat and caused his words to be stuck at the back of his throat, not like you did. He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you looked like—the pictures you sent served that purpose. Maybe it was the fact that he never expected you to look like that in real life, and for once, he almost doesn’t know how to react. His thoughts are all over the place as he paces into the pantry to prepare your tea. As he’s dipping the tea bag into the piping hot water, he begins feeling self conscious—was his hair too shrivelled? Did he smell bad? Was there something on his face? He tightens his grip on the mug and hastily makes his way back to his office.

San returns, with a smile on his face as he settles the cup onto the coffee table before you, and he joins you, seated on a velvet armchair across you.

“Take your time”, he reassures. “We can start after this, if you’re feeling comfortable, or we can just talk a little to ease your nerves.” It doesn’t take you much to think—you opt for the latter of course.

San laughs and nods. “I get that a lot, especially from first time female clients. It’s valid of course, having a male being your photographer for boudoir can sound off-putting. Perhaps looking at my portfolio might put you slightly at ease?” He reaches out for a large and thick leather-bound photo album. You let it rest on your lap as you receive it with a soft “thank you”, and flip the album open, and you’re instantly awestruck—San’s work spoke for himself. The models were diverse, both in nationalities and body shapes, all equally stunning and sensual in their own expressive ways. The only common denominator was the glint of genuine emotion and confidence reflected in their eyes.

You wonder to yourself—could you look and feel as confident as them? As you skim through the pictures, you feel yourself falling in love with the models as well—their genuine smiles when they do and the gazes they give.

When San catches himself staring at you being absorbed in admiring his portfolios, he feels his cheeks flush and he looks down, wondering what you think of it all.

“I see why you have so many clients. The pictures are gorgeous”, you say, shutting the photo album and handing it back to him. San flashes a sheepish smile and mutters a “thank you” loud enough for you to hear. The silence in the room remains a for awhile as you sip the tea, letting it calm your nerves. You don’t even know it but the person with actual jittery nerves was San himself, a feeling that he never expected to feel since the last time he did was when he started out this business three years ago.

“So… what’s the goal of being a boudoir model, if you don’t mind me asking? Like was it a long time thing you wanted to try or was it something spontaneous?” He asks to break the silence.

“I broke up with my ex recently”, you respond curtly, before taking another sip of the tea. Damn, this is some good ass tea. San blinks at your reply, unsure of what to make out of the bluntness. Before he attempts to reply, you continue, “and my friend sent me a referral to your studio, and I thought to myself, why not? I want to feel confident in my own skin. Also, I think it’s an interesting way of self exploration.” Your gaze meets his, and it’s his turn to look awestruck. You try to ignore the flutter in your chest when he laughs softly, when his smile reaches his eyes. It’s the way that he’s confident of his craft, and it’s making you warm up to him even more.

Your fingertips tap on the mug softly. Your gaze lands on the photobook once more.

“Does taking such risqué pictures affect you when you first started out?” You ask before taking another sip. San ponders about the question for awhile. He has people asking him that before, but for some reason, he wants to be slightly more transparent with you.

“I don’t see about my clients in a sexual way, even if they physically look appealing to me. In the end, self confidence and comfort always comes first, and I think that’s what I enjoy seeing in my clients when they become more comfortable in their own skin. People don’t understand how difficult it is to fully love yourself”, he replies.

That’s when you understand why San’s photography studio had so many recurring clients.

“Why boudoir? I think sensuality and intimacy is a form of art. It’s beautiful—watching people discover parts of themselves they never knew existed and falling in love. You don’t have to be conventionally attractive to be a boudoir model.

The money’s good, of course, but the satisfaction of watching my clients giving me feedback of them realising they deserve to love themselves more, or discovering other sides of themselves is nothing short of rewarding.”

By the time he’s done explaining, you feel a rush of confidence in yourself. It’s only been about ten minutes since the both of you just sat and talked, but you see that he definitely prioritises your comfort before he even begins the sessions. You ball your fingers into a fist, meeting San’s gaze with determination, telling him, “I think I’m ready.”

San’s eyes brighten up. “Great! You can use the bathroom to the left, and I’ll meet you at the photo studio just opposite the office.” He stands up, opening the door for you, and you bow slightly in courtesy as you head to the washroom to change. San’s heart beats faster, wondering what you’re gonna wear for the shoot.

San is fixing the sheets of the bed, then the studio lights at the perfect angle he wants it to be. His heart is still racing as he walks over to the tripod, glancing over at the door from time to time, awaiting for your arrival.

He perks up when he sees you walk in with a bathrobe on and he greets you cheerfully again, trying to hide his excitement.

You wave back with a smile, letting the environment of the photo studio sink in. The basic package for first timers consisted of a bed shoot, so it’s no surprise you see a bed in the middle of the room, covered in white. The bed looks comfy and you giggle to yourself, wondering if you’d end up falling asleep mid-shoot from how nice the bed looks.

“Anytime you’re ready”, San reminds you, carrying the tripod in one hand, his biceps flexing as he does, and it makes you blush slightly, which was ridiculous. Why are you swooning over your handsome photographer carrying the tripod with one arm? Suddenly you’re self conscious again, your fingers clutching against the black bathrobe. It was frustrating that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was making you nervous, but you weren’t about to back out.

San continues to adjust his camera on the tripod, and his gaze absentmindedly shifts towards you, and his breath gets stuck in his throat, watching you undress from the bathrobe, revealing a white button up over black lace lingerie. It’s not anything new, but for some reason he can’t seem to tear his eyes off you—the way the panties hugs your hips and the bra cups your breasts, the garter belt hugging your waist and the straps hanging past your panties. He watches you climb onto the bed, eyes shutting briefly as you sink into the mattress with a soft smile.

He’s not confident that he’s able to last through the shoot, not when you’re looking like that.

“Is it too cold here?” San asks, trying to divert his attention from his perverse thoughts. You pop up from the sheets, the collars of the shirt slipping past your shoulders, obviously too big for you. That does nothing to help him with his thoughts.

“No, I think the temperature’s okay. Shall we get started?” You ask, buttoning up your shirt, the white material pathetically sheer that San is able to see the black bra peeking through.

The sight of you in an oversized shirt on, with no pants, just your underwear on is like a meal for San’s eyes. He hides behind the camera to hide his flushing cheeks, only to face your body through the viewfinder, watching you preparing to pose as you position yourself at the end of the bed, turning your body slightly to the side with one leg up, your thighs in full view, with the sleeves of the shirt covering most of your fingers, and your gaze right into the camera lens.

San takes a deep breath. Forty five minutes. He can do this.

“Sure. Ready whenever you are, y/n.”

It turns out to be a very agonising forty five minutes. While the both of you were cracking jokes during the shoot, San finds himself getting more distracted when you gradually remove your shirt, and when your poses grow ever more risqué—at one point you remove your bra and fit your shirt over again, which definitely made San grow very restless when he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your bare chest.

Midway through the shoot, all that swarms his mind is wondering how your body would feel against his, how your bare skin would feel under his hands, what kind of faces you would make when you’re under him.

What kind of noises you would make for him when he fits his cock right into you. He wants to fuck you so hard that your mind goes blank—so good that you’ll never remember your ex.

San blinks, his finger still on the shutter button. He doesn’t know what washed over him, but what he does know is the taut feeling in his pants, and he internally heaves a sigh of relief that he decided to wear cargo pants. Nonetheless, he hopes that it isn’t obvious. Well, it shouldn’t be, as long as you don’t ask for close up shots.

“San! Could you come closer for my close ups?” You call out, letting the collar of your shirt fall off your shoulder once more, revealing your bare shoulders, and reminding him that you were still braless underneath the loose clothing article.

Fuck.

San forces a smile, unlatching his camera and trying to walk normally without letting his erection steal your attention.

He reaches to where you are, reminding himself to stay professional, but when he meets your playful gaze, all he wants to do is pin you down. Your eyes twinkle with allure as you prepare your next pose. You get it now—the confidence that slowly trickles into you after every photo taken. You’ve never realised that you had this side of yourself, not until now, and you love it.

The close up shots only spell another layer of doom for San—he adores the budding confidence that you exude, but it makes it even harder for him to hold back, watching you make sultry expressions and poses close up. Through the viewfinder, his eyes try to focus on taking the photo but he finds himself being entranced by your stare. He counts down, then taking a few shots, not missing the growing smile you had.

San puts his camera away, reaching forward to your face to remove a stray hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, and his touch is warm on your face. It’s then you realise how physically close San is to you—you smell his cologne and it leaves your mind blank for a spilt second. He’s absorbed in fixing your hair, combing the strays off your face, the sound of his quiet breathing the only thing you hear. You look away, wondering if your heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear, and you hope it isn’t. San gives you a soft smile when his eyes finally meet yours.

He pulls back, preparing to take his camera for the next shot, but his leg gets tangled in the sheets.

Everything happens in a spilt second—his knee that shifts forward at first, pressing against the sheet that has unknowingly tangled around his other leg, then San trying to get up quickly with the tangled leg, realising a little too late by the time he falls right onto the bed.

Right onto you.

He almost squishes you. Almost. But he lands above you, supported by his elbows just in time before his body is in contact with yours.

Your heart races, way too quick for you to even process what just occurred. All knew you was:

One; San is right above you,

Two; his lips are hovering over yours,

Three; you feel something pressing against your pelvis.

And San stares down at you, his heart beating in his ears. He takes in the sight of you below him—eyes looking up at him through fluttered lashes, your heat radiating against his skin, your lips slightly parted in surprise.

As well as the strain in his pants when his eyes instinctively lower to your bare chest, your nipples peeking through your shirt, and that his little problem is just resting right on you.

“I’m sorry”, San whispers, breaking the silence that had hung between the both of you. “This usually doesn’t happen…”

You crack an amused smile. “Usually?”you reiterate teasingly. A tint of red flushes San’s cheeks and his clothed erection presses harder against your bare skin, and it makes you bite your lip.

“Fuck. I mean, this never happens. It’s just.. I’ve never felt this way about my boudoir models…”, he trails off. “I think you’re fucking stunning since you entered the studio, and I think you’re even more stunning now.”

Your heart flutters at his confession and this time, you feel yourself blush. A soft laugh escapes from the male above you when he sees you avoid eye contact from the shyness. His strings of rationale—yelling at him to stay professional—is snapping. He’s not lying. He’s never felt so attracted to any of his models before, until you, and now that he has you trapped under him, he doesn’t want to lose that chance.

“Should we end the session here?” San asks, with a quick glance at your pretty red lips.

Your fingers are playing with the dangling silver chain that he wears. He lets you, waiting for your response before he catches your gaze dances back to meet his again. Your hands shift to caress San’s jaw, and he takes it as a sign to make his move. You inhale softly as you feel his lips press onto yours, and it makes your head spin with glee. He tastes so heavenly, and your legs clench at the feeling that flutters between your thighs.

San slightly presses his body weight onto you, his erection only growing harder against your thigh. But it looks like he’s taking his time.

His fingertips warm your skin, and he lets them slip up your body, until he’s at your chest, barely covered by the sheer cotton material. His thumbs grazes against your nipples, and you gasp in between open mouthed kisses. You feel him smile, and he applies pressure, and the sensation goes right to your pussy.

He pulls back, watching your lip stick smudged, and your eyes dilate. You can’t help but feel entranced by San, and now you’re wondering how his face would look like when he falls apart.

And it makes you excited.

San lulls you back from your thoughts when you feel his lips suck softly against your neck, and now your fingers are playing with his soft locks of hair.

He’s slightly embarrassed at the way he’s growing even harder when he gingerly peels the white shirt away. His hands cup your bare tits, and he lowers himself to your left tit, giving it a couple of hungry licks and sucks, leaving your back arching and your mouth agape from how ticklish his tongue feels as he flicks your nipple. He doesn’t neglect the other nipple, giving it the same attention as he relishes in the way you fall apart for him. When he has his fun of sucking and making sure your nipples swell while you moan and tug his hair, he pulls away.

He sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and you’re left drooling at how chiseled his body looks. San unbuttons his pants and yanks it off, alongside his boxers, and you watch with awe as his cock springs out—hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your panties are tugged off you in no time, and you don’t miss the way his cock twitches when his eyes land on your slick covered cunt.

“You’re gonna be the death of me”, you hear him mutter before he collides his lips against yours once more. You squeal when you feel his fingers press onto your clit, giving it small rubs, watching and soaking your reactions—your whines and whimpers. There is a dull buzz in your mind every time your bundle of nerves get stimulated, and it builds up in your tummy.

“Oh god, you’re getting even wetter”, he sighs, his fingers completely soaked.

“It feels good. So good. Keep doing that”, you whisper, your fingers pressing against his arm. Your moans only grow louder as San picks up the speed on rubbing your clit, and it’s sending you over the edge way quicker than you wanted to.

San lowers himself to your head, and his husky voice vibrates in your ears.

“That’s it, keep coming undone. Let your mind shut off. You look so fucking beautiful like that.”

“San, San, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck-“

Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, your body tensing as pleasure becomes the only thing you know. You barely catch onto the dirty things San is telling you, but you know he’s encouraging you to cum on his fingers like a good girl.

He makes sure he has your orgasm drawn out as long as possible, your mind completely blown out at that point. San sucks off your arousal on his fingers, before giving his cock a few pumps.

“You taste like heaven, babe. I’ll get a taste of that cunt soon, but right now, I really can’t wait”, San huffs, trying to keep himself composed as he slowly fucks his hand.

“San, hurry up, please. I need you, so fucking bad”, you whine, your fingers pulling your wet folds open for him.

His breathing goes heavy at your words. “Damn, the shoot really got you heated,” San teases.

“I can’t help it if my photographer makes me wet”, you reply with a playful smile.

Something seems to snap in San when he hears that—all he’s thinking about is wanting to drive his cock so deep into you that your mind completely blanks out.

So that’s what he does.

San lines up his cock to your entrance and pushes and inch in. His eyes dart to your face, licking the bottom of his lip when he watches your face contort into pleasure. His hands stroke your thighs as he pushes in a couple more inches, soaking in your broken moans as he stretches you out. He forces himself to stay composed despite the fact that you’re squeezing him with your warm and soft walls.

He manages to bury himself right to the hilt and he gasps at how perfectly fitted his cock is in you, an uncontrollable moan escaping his lips when he feels you convulse around his cock.

“San, you’re so big. I’m so filled”, you whimper through glazed eyes, his cock completely cutting off other senses as your thighs tremble. A smile tugs at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, pretty”, San tells you. Despite that, he waits for your green signal before he pulls out and drives his cock right into you.

Your mind switches off the moment his cock is fucking your pussy, because that’s all that matters. It’s so good. So fucking good.

His hands slither to your wrists, and has them pinned over your head as his cock pistons into you. You swear he’s driving you to be cock dumb by the end of this, but not like you fucking minded anyway.

“Look at you. Growing stupid over my cock already. So fucking adorable.”

You only nod in reply, biting your lip as his cock continues to render you speechless. Now San has completely flooded into the smallest crooks of your mind. San has his mind blank, his eyes darting from your fucked out expression to your bouncing tits.

Your cunt flutters once again and tears are pooling at the corner of eyes. The sounds of wet skin slapping echo around the studio.

“…wanna touch you”, you mutter. Despite the face that you loved that he was holding you down, you are feeling desperate to feel his skin as you dance on the fence of your orgasm. San releases your wrists, and he props himself better as he continues to pound into you, hitting the soft, spongy spot over and over again when he has your legs folded. When his pulls out, his cock is covered in a creamy mess. His head spins and his ego inflates at the thought him being the one who drove you to this point of mind blanking pleasure.

“No, no, I’m gonna cum again. So good. San!” His name leaving your lips as a whine. Your hands are gripping onto the loose unbuttoned sleeves of your shirt. His hands take yours and places them on his on his sides, and he groans at the way you’re clawing him.

“Shit. Fuck!” San curses when you cream on his cock even more on top of your walls hugging him tightly. You let go on his cock with a pleasured sob, legs twitching.

It’s not long before a long drawn out moan San releases as his warm cum completely floods your tight hole. He swears he wants to keep his cock tucked in your pussy because it feels that fucking good.

His face—oh, his fucking face when he orgasms. You barely recover from your second orgasm to watch San fall apart while he empties in your pussy, and it almost drives you to your third orgasm. Almost.

The both of you remain still for a moment, only breathing filling in the silence. Then, San slowly pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks out of your abused hole.

San pulls back, and he realises that he’s never seen a more beautiful sight—you, splayed out in nude, only covered by a measly white shirt that inevitably drives him crazy, with cum leaking out of your pretty hole while your body twitches against the white sheets.

He thinks that it’s a pity that his camera is out of reach, because it’s such a beautiful shot.

You glance at San with a shy smile as he hands you your panties. He hooks the your legs into the panties and pulls it up to your hips. You feel another load stain your panties while your thighs twitch.

San dresses himself quickly and extends his arm for you to take as he leads you off the bed. He knows he’s got extra work to wash the sheets but that’s the least of his worries.

What throws you off is when he pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple.

“I promise I’ve never done to any of my clients”, he reiterates.

“Unprofessional”, you tease, your hands sneaking up his shirt.

“Can’t fucking help it. I never knew fucking an Angel in my studio would be this exhilarating. It makes the thought of washing the bedsheets bearable”, he teases back, letting his fingers tangle in your hair.

Your mind goes completely blank when he tells you to wash out the loads in you, so he’ll fill you up once more when he brings you home, which earns him a slap on the chest. He gestures you to go change up, watching the way you remove your shirt to reveal your bare back, and he makes a mental note to start fucking you from behind.

And back at his place, he does. His eyes are hyper focused on the way your ass bounces on his cock. A loud slap reverberates in his room followed by a whimper.

He stills in you, spilling his load once more into your abused cunt as you cream all over him once again.

Then he has you wrapped up in his arms, peppering you with kisses as you’re teetering off your high.

“Stay over, won’t you?”, San requests, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears. You’re beginning to feel completely enamoured by the male. You nod as you melt into his arms.

San thinks it’s ridiculous how hard and fast he fell for you, but he’s confident that you’re his favourite model, ever.

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ The Assistant.

✩ endeavor x assistant!f!reader

we all want to have him as our boss and fuck him, right?

✩ warnings & tags: it’s endeavor and im writing it, so you know there’s a bunch of hot sex involved. size difference, small age gap, creampie, pussy smacks, oral, semi-public sex, domination, established affair (enji’s seperated, but not divorced), implied sadism, breeding (possibility of a child).

there you were, underneath your boss’s mahogany colored desk; shoving his fat, can shaped cock further down your throat. eyes watering as he fills your mouth to the brim.

the number one hero tried his hardest to not throw his head back and let out a groan, while you devoured his cock. but, the way you handled his balls and sucked him like he was a cherry tootsie pop; made it harder for him and he quickly let out a thick load deep into your mouth.

a loud groan left his throat and his thighs quickly clench around your head; almost suffocating you while he cums. your eyes roll back into that pretty little head of yours, while a small yet powerful orgasm runs through you and he finally lets his thighs relax; making you release his cock from your pretty stretched out mouth.

a string of his cum mixed with your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you looked up into his icey blue eyes, smiling with satisfaction since you took his cock and fallen babies so well. he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to his torso, leaning down to kiss you; his leftovers mixing into his mouth.

“such a good girl for me.” he praised, biting your bottom lip before he pulled away; eliciting a whine from you. he zipped his softening cock back into his pants and helped you get up from under his desk, handing you a kleenex so you could clean your fucked face; before returning to your desk outside of his very spacious office.

you had been working with the number one hero for quite some months now. he had needed an assistant with this big promotion and from hundreds of recommendations, he hired you. and from that day on, something in him lit up and he decided to make you his dirty little mistress.

you knew Enji was married, since he still wore his wedding ring on his finger, but you didn’t care. his martial status meant nothing to you as long as he continued to pump you full of his cock on a daily basis. call it wrong, but that’s just how you felt.

waving at burnin as she passed by your desk and entered your office, you signed into your laptop and started going through your emails and looking over your boss’s calendar book. until, your phone chimed with a text from endeavor’s personal number.

it was a photo of his clothed bulge with a message underneath it.

- still hard. come let daddy drill this cock in you.

his dirty message made you clinch your thighs together and you quickly replied.

- i would if i could, got to reply to these emails and you’re still talking to burnin. how about i send you a video of me playing with myself, instead?

he quickly liked the message and you giggled. you quickly looked around to check if anyone was coming, before you held your phone up and spread your soiled panties to the side, dipping your fingers in between your drenched lips.

your stifled a moan by biting yours lips, thinking about what happened prior to this, making you cum within seconds. you rode out your orgasm and ended the video, hitting send; before you started typing on your computer again. you knew he would watch the video with his sidekick in his office, volume low along with the brightness. and a few seconds later, the blazin haired hero walked out & relayed that endeavor wanted to see you.

on cue, you walked right back into his office; notebook in hand and quickly closed the dark oak door behind you; before walking up to his desk. you watched as his muscles flexed and protruded through his black velvet sweater, while he pressed play to watch your sexy video once more.

“so pretty and wet for me…look at her clinch around nothing…so sexy~” he turns the phone so you could see, making your face hot and your thighs press together.

“you’ve got a meeting in a few mins,” you reminded, just in case he got a bright idea. and just like you thought, he did.

“get back under this desk and take daddy’s dick while they all pile in here. and if you make a peep, there’s going to be hell for you~” you knew he was serious from the way that he spoke, with your body acting on its own; you found yourself following his orders and dipping underneath his desk again.

you turned your clothed ass towards him, arching your back so he could plunge himself into you with ease. he unzipped himself from his corduroy confinements, freeing his throbbing fatness. he pushed up your skirt and ripped your panties off of your body, before pushing his swollen tip towards your tight entrance.

and as you backed yourself up onto his cock, his employees apart of the meeting came piling into his office, sitting on the black loveseats he had inside. you covered your mouth with your hands, smothering the moans that left your lips as his cock stretched your gummy walls to fit around him.

you would never get used to his sized, you felt like he would get bigger each time he fucked you, pushing your walls past its normal limits.

he did his best to control his facial expressions as he began talking about how they’ve been monitoring and controlling the nomu outbreak, while you fucked him.

your were now passing the pain threshold that came with fucking the number one hero and was now welcoming pleasure. you were more aroused than usual, thanks to the state that you were in. fucking your boss in a room with other’s, unbeknownst to them. pussy becoming wet with each glide around his cock, betraying you by making a squelching noise that could be heard by them.

but, endeavor was quick with putting on a video for them to watch; deafening the noise your pretty girl decided to make for him. you turned your head slightly, catching his gaze while you pushed your self deeper onto his shaft; mouth opening like a bitch in heat.

as you bounced your ass against him, your slick coated pussy became too slippery for his dick and he slipped out of you; causing a gush of air to flow out. an employee turned to see what that noise was, but when he saw endeavor’s stoic face, he quickly turned back around and continued to look at the video in front of him.

endeavor turned his attention back to you and gave you a look; pushing his cock back into you along with his thumb pushing into your other hole as punishment for making too much noise. you bit your finger tips so no one would hear you squeal, the next erotic sensation forced your mind to go dumb.

the way he fucked your cunt to his liking, pushing himself deep inside you where his tip kissed your cervix and rubbed your gspot with ease, made you unfold. eyes rolling back to the whites, cunt queefing with each movement; before he pulled himself out of you—replacing his finger in your ass with his cock; resting above your tighter hole. his own orgasm splayed out on your ass, jerking slightly as it pooled out from his tip.

you caught his eye once more, you could read the look on his face; he was far from done.

“meeting’s over,” he clicked off the flat screen tv, making all his employees look at him.

“but sir, we haven’t discussed—“

“get the fuck out, now” they weren’t trying to argue with him, quickly grabbing their things and leaving his office. it was without a doubt that they were afraid of him and no wasn’t the time to prove that. as the door closed behind the last person, he reached down and grabbed your hips, his cum dripping down between your cheeks as a result.

you sat on his lap, cock ghosting your entrance while he held you there, “didn’t i say you were going to get punished for making a peep?” his voice deep and serious, making you swallow the slight fear he gave you.

“im sorry—” you felt like your body was melting once he pushed himself back inside your cunt. how was he still hard? his libido always superseded yours. he didn’t let you adjust, his stiff dick bullying your hole with each pound, fucking you dumb once again.

“all ways so tight for me. god, i can’t stop fuckin this cunt” he sent a smack to your clit, causing you to jolt and clench down harder around him. he groaned at the sensation, sending another one to your sensitive bud. your soft mewls were like music to his ears, his dick throbbing repeatedly inside of you; he couldn’t wait to cum inside.

enji’s big hands reached around your chest and ripped your button up to shreds, buttons popping off and flying onto his big desk.

“enji!” you whined and he sent another smack to your clit, correcting you.

“daddy! I don’t have anything else to wear” you moaned when he pushed his cock further into you, cream slowly coated his base. he slowed his stroke down, making you whine once more. he loved hearing you call him daddy, it drove him insane.

“ill have someone bring you another one from the company’s closet. now be a good girl, while l finish fucking this pretty pussy of yours.” his speed picked up once more and he was drilling himself inside of you. he let out some groans, one more primal than the others as he creamed your pussy full of his babies.

he didn’t stop his movements after cumming either, pistoning his cock deeper inside of you; making your orgasm come down harder than the last. he made you squirt, hard, pushing his cock right out of your pussy—splashing his leaking head and his dark desk.

picking you up with his big hands, he stood you on your feet; legs wobbling from the amount of stress that was put on it seconds ago, before he bent you over his desk. his huge frame towered over your smaller one as he pinned your arms behind your back, pulling your skirt all the way down to your ankles and deepening your arch; just so he could re-enter you once again.

your ass rippled against his clothed pelvis, cream and slick sticking to the soft fabric, as he fucked you. you turned your head and was met with a picture of his estranged family and you couldn’t help but moan. taking someone’s husband’s cock in his office every day, knowing someone could walk in excited you. you were made to be his cock whore.

he gripped your wrists, arms bruising slightly from his grip while he pounded you relentlessly. you were cumming and so was he, the way his balls twitched and his stroke became rougher—you were going to be a good slut and take his last load.

“let me stuff you full of my babies again. want you pregnant with my seed~” you were so dizzy with cock, agreeing to his wish, drooling against his desk; while ropes of his cum flowed into you and your own orgasm erupting inside of you. you could see stars like one of those cartoon characters as you came, his dick slowing down inside of you; before he pulled out of you for the last time.

with a smack to your ass, he zipped up him pants and pulled you back into his chest; pressing his lips to yours; another way he dominated you.

“ill go get those clothes from the closet. put this on and stay here. also, when i get back clear my schedule; taking you back to my place so i can hear that pretty girl speak to me again~”

[ssamchu]

I know you love me back, even if you don’t show it (kim chaewon x f!reader)

   ⋅`🦦` ..⃗. } ⎧ ୧Just chaewon rejecting Yn's love and once jealous for rejecting it –72k views

▸ clip one

While chaewon started the live, Yn and Eunchae were playing halli galli (there is no one more competitive than those two)

Yah! calm down!!! the live has started! said Chaewon with her adorable angry tone. sorry my bae, let me make it up to you. Yn spoke while her mouth was preparing to form a kiss.

Eunchae meanwhile burst out laughing and Chaewon slapped her arm with a disgusted face.

Ouch! oh my heart has broken into a thousand pieces, god please eunchae help me. spoke Yn overreacting, throwing half of her body on the younger one, The leader rolled her eyes at her.

Leave manchae alone and stop overreacting Choi. At the naming of her last name, Yn sat down while striking a military pose.

at your service, unnie.

▸ clip two

While Leniverse was being filmed, Yn was on a mission to kiss all the members. It was no big deal for her because she always tried to do it, even the other members let her do it, except Chaewon.

While the girls were busy doing other missions, she approached Kazuha, Sakura, Yunjin and Eunchae, leaving Chaewon for the end and the members decided to watch the funny tom and Jerry-like scene unnieeee, come here said the girl with a slightly scary tone.

No! I hate it, get away from me. Chaewon shouted as she watched her friend slowly approaching. Yah! You come any closer and I'll throw this at you. She said while showing her toothpaste in her hand.

WHY ARE YOU EXAGGERATING? IT'S JUST A KISS, I NEED TO FINISH THIS MISSION AND I'M NOT GOING TO LET YOU, UNNIE, RUIN IT. Yn yelled back, grabbing a pillow to cover herself if Chaewon kept her word.

Seeing her grab a pillow, Chaewon thought Yn had given up, she calmed down as she turned around but that was a big mistake because before doing it, Yn jumped up wrapping her arms around her body as she tried to kiss her cheek until she did it and the traitorous camera showed a totally red Chaewon lying on the floor.

▸ clip three

They were in the waiting room at music bank while Chaewon was filming her daily vlog, they were on UNFORGIVEN promotions and they schedule was totally full, so much that on the side of the camera shot, Yn appears sleeping on the couch while Yunjin was taking photos of her.

Ah, Yn loves to sleep whispered while looking at the pictures she had taken, approaching Chaewon to show them, cute, isn't her? she asked to which the short-haired girl remained silent and made a disgusted face.

YAH UNNIE I SAW YOU. oh Yn woke up.

▸ clip four

So, guys, here we are, the UNFORGIVEN photo shoot features Yn in an outfit that showed off her abs. Guys, don't you think I have the best abs? I learned from Kazuha, I've been working out with her for months, it helped me. She said with a smile on her face.

Oh! look, chaewon unnie finished her shots, let's see them. she speculated as she walked towards chaewon who was checking her own shots.

ohhh cute, hot, pretty, yeah yeah I like it, you ate chaewonnie. The leader meanwhile, rolled her eyes before saying I know Yn, I know.

I think I like you unnie said the youngest one there as she kissed the screen where the pictures were. ahhh...Yn...what are you saying??? Chaewon said because of how shameless her member was.

▸ clip five

It's Valentine's Day and the members were doing a live for it, now, the girls choose a member to make chocolates and a letter.

uh- I don't know, I think I'm going to choose Yunjin. Yn said and Chaewon's neck almost broke hearing it, it was the first time she didn't choose her, even in izone she chose her, she wanted to ask why she didn't choose her but thank god, sakura asked since it was totally sudden for everyone.

Chaewon unnie wouldn't want a gift from me. Yn said jokingly and rolling her eyes.

NO! I want!!! Chaewon said almost shouting while everyone jumped from their place due to the leader's sudden behavior.

no, unnie, she chose me. Yunjin spoke knowing that she would make her angry. Yah! Yn, choose me. The girl said as she tugged on the sleeve of her bear sweater. ah... these girls fight for me, don't worry, there is Yn for everyone, don't worry, wait for your birthday Yunjin, I will write you a letter and give you reward chocolates.

After saying this, you could hear an angry Yunjin and a totally happy Chaewon.

inspired by @jihyoruri

[goldsbitch]

Right?

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

That is until a photoshoot gets out of hand and there is no way to go but forward.

warning: swear words, male x female, angst

part 2

______________________________________________________________

You're a professional. Right? Always been, proud of your hard work and strong will. If you want something, you go and get it.

It's by no chance that you're standing exactly here - in the McLaren F1 paddock, in the middle of buzzing neatly organized and timed chaos prior to the start of the race. "Read the grid, feel the paddock" was a line burned to your memory by your first boss, now the Media head of Redbull. You've learned what each and every one of the people do, what their job entails, because one day, one day you want to be more than a photographer for the team's social media.

You're a professional. Had a dream and went for it, no matter the sacrifice or long hours. Always on the road, detached from your peers. Because your heart beats for this.

You'd never do anything to compromise your job. Right?

The hardest part to ignore is his scent. You can evert your eyes when he walks to the room like he owns it - and one would say he actually does, he is the team's no. 1 driver for god sake. His voice can almost be blocked out by focusing on a conversation with a different person or headphones if the situation allows. But his scent seems specifically tailored to messing with your ability to focus, so much sothat you've considered wearing a mask and pretending to be a super freak about germs.

Ironically, scents are hard to recall. And you would know, you've tried several times on lonely nights in hotel rooms, with the goal to make you finish just a little bit faster. A moment you'd really love to forget is standing in a perfume shop trying to figure out what is that magical formula. Because it can't be due to the fact that he is wearing it. Right?

However hard it is for you on the inside, one would never know of your tiny little crush from the outside. Always keeping it casual, with every photoshoot staying professional and holding it together.

It was Lando who had the idea to do more of an intimate (his words, not yours) photoshoot than usually, to spice up the feed, as he bluntly said during a casual PR catch up. This was the reason why you were standing here. In the middle of the forest, alone with a big camera and one light for the subject in question, your biggest crush in history. You were sure he was having a great time putting you outside your comfort zone, the cheeky fuck he was. But then again, he probably really did not give a shit.

"I can't focus if you'll keep looking at me like that," Lando stated like a spoiled child.

"Come again?" you asked, geniuenly confused.

He jumped around few times, as if he was about to run a marathon. "Show a little enthusiam, why so bleh today?"

"You're right, my mind went somewhere else."

"Oh, am I boring you? Well, that's bad. We should be promoting my merch here, but even the person paid to be here can't seem to be bothered!" His tone changed. He raised his eyebrows, challenging you to up your game.

You're a professional. No doubt about that.

Focus, get your head back. Your energy boosted up again, here we go! "Ok, Norris, back to work!" You're well aware that a great photo comes from the subjects ability to connect with the photographer. "You're right, this isn't working. Let's get into the car."

You both left the random wood spot and returned to his sports car that brought you here. "Sit on the driver's seat" you instructed.

"Oh, as if there is a different way this would go down."

"Come on, let's drive around. And be fast," not sure if you were incouraging him or yourself.

"Like the sound of that. Buckle up, otherwise you'll have blurry photos."

And with that he reversed back on the main road.

After about 15 minutes of driving back and forth with a casual drift on the turns, getting pictures of him driving in his new jacket and shades, the adrenaline levels were pretty up in both of you.

"Parked it up here" you instructed again, having him stop on a hill with a view on a city lights in the background. "These are amazing!" you said after a brief look on the photos.

Lando was curious as ever. "Show me!"

"No, you'll see them on the right time. Do you trust me?"

He licked his lips. "Surprise me?"

"Lean back."

You really got into the zone, already super excited for the pictures. They had everything, interesting lighting, composition and Lando was doing an exceptional job with his smiles. However, you knew it could give more.

"This is great Lando, truly great job! But let's do more and push it further, you ok?"

"Just tell me what to do." He looked like he was really enjoying the attention, but you tried to block any of these thoughts out.

"One thing photographers recommend is for the model to try and look into the lens as if you want to seduce it, capture those looking at the picture...It's for making models less focused on the camera and being more attractive..."

Lando pulled out his best smirk yet. "Oh, I'm not attractive enough to be your model now?"

"Come on. You know what I mean."

"Nah, I don't," he lied. "Elaborate, I'm just a simple driver."

Now you were getting annoyed. "Just imagine the lens is someone you want to, em, who you would like to"

"-Fuck?"

"Yes."

"As you wish." And as you asked he did.

He probably did it without much of a thought, but you were perfectly aware of how he fixed his posture, opened his lips a bit, moved his and got this look on as if he wanted to eat you - in the best way possible. This got you in the zone, striking one photo after another, moving your camera and getting closer to get the details, completely forgetting you were both there to shoot his new merch.

Battery low. You would have cursed yourself in that moment. Only you hardly had a second to think about this. When you put your camera down, you realized the nonexistent proximity between you and Lando. You were sitting above him on the back seat with him staring up to you.

You froze for a moment, knowing there is no battery left in the bag.

"Well that is us done for today," you focused on the camera. How on Earth can you be so stupid.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." You suddenly realized you were way, way to close to Lando. The damn scent, again.

"Damn, I like these kinds of photoshoots."

"Uhm, yeah." You did not want to move, but it was becoming socially unacceptable for you to be sitting on him for this long.

"Have you done this with Oscar?"

It's hard for you not to laugh at that thought. Every photoshoot with Oscar was a nightmare with the atmoshephere being so dry that everyone with an inch of taste had to tell from the photos immediately.

"Not yet," you said trying to preserve the facade. " But if these work out and the team likes them, we might recreate this with him?"

As if that was even remotely possible. You should move now. Why isn't he moving?

"Shame, thought it was our thing," his voice was becoming more raspy with every sentence.

And with that - you lost it.

"You still have the look." How is this sentence coming out of your mouth?

"What look?" he said, moving even closer to you.

"The models look."

"Remind me which one."

"The "Fuck Me Look"...But I'm not taking photos anymore."

"Interesting."

"Why?" You stopped breathing a while ago.

"Because I think you have it too."

part 2

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Vil, Jack: a Strength that Shines

Ayyy, it’s the childhood friends (?) from the Shaftlands!! It feels like forever since we last got any significant interactions between Vil and Jack. Nice to see them chatting again~

bdjwvsjsGuabs THAT GROOVY THOUGH… Vil looks so judgmental and dismissive 😭 Channeling all his Mean Girl energy to diss Neige Snow White, lol

A Tale as Old as Time.

Four sides drew together to form a glittering box. A lovely maiden rested within the coffin-like casing of the photo frame. Her lips as red as blood, her hair as dark as ebony, and her skin as fair as snow.

She was circled by foliage, her sun-dappled face tilting up, disarmed by some distant call. The girl cupped her dainty hands together, housing a small baby blue bird in her palms. Kindness, goodness, grace—she exuded all of them.

Vil scoffed, tossing golden hair over his shoulder. Her smile was reminiscent of a rival celebrity, one pure as a dove's feathers.

So carefree, so cheery.

How irritating, he sighed.

"One ought to be more cautious in the woods. Who knows what dangers might lurk nearby, wishing to enact harm upon her.

"For a glamour shot though... Hmm, yes. This composition is acceptable. The sunlight is angled upon her face in a pleasing way—it casts a golden glow on her pale visage and highlights the highest points: cheeks, nose, chin, and forehead. The impression is one of total innocence.”

A soft grunt sounded from beside him.

"She's... shining," Jack commented plainly. His critique, clipped. “Didn’t you do a photo shoot like this recently? Similar place and everything.”

Vil’s beauty was momentarily marred by a grimace. “Yes, as promotional material for an upcoming film. However, the feel of it was completely different than what you see here.”

Shadows instead of sunlight. Temptation in the place of innocence.

He, poised amid the creeping branches and dark leaves, a tatter cloak clinging to his curves. A single, crimson apple in his grasp, a sultry look directed at the camera.

He tried to picture himself like the girl in the frame countless times over. Kneeling among the woodland creatures, smiling so serenely. Any pro could pull it off—he included.

But the image never turned out right in his mind.

Not the right amount of sweetness, not natural enough.

Not quite the same.

Not at all.

Blood, sweat, tears. Sacrifices made at the altar. Yet still, the world yielded nothing but broken promises and shattered dreams. The splintered parts and shambles of them, he gathered, forming his own makeshift hope and determination.

He couldn’t give in here.

Vil’s perfectly groomed brows scrunched up.

“I shall have to endeavor to work even harder. I’m not satisfied with things as they are now.”

“Heh.” Jack cocked a small, lopsided grin. “Keeping on the grind… That’s just like you. You've got this."

“Obviously. Nothing will get accomplished otherwise.” Vil’s eyes passed over to the beastmen. “Presumably, you are doing the same."

"Yeah. Haven't skipped a day of my training regimen." Jack slapped a hand on his bicep, which fit snuggly in his glittering white sleeve. "We'll take out RSA next track and field meet!"

"I'd certainly hope so. If I am to taste sweet revenge, I'd prefer it be by my own hand... but I trust you to deliver in my place. I expect good news when next we speak. Do not disappoint me."

"Yessir!" Jack's tail wagged enthusiastically. He stood alert, saluting like a loyal knight. “I'll do my best!"

“Then it looks as though we both have our long-term goals set.” The dorm leader planted his hands on his waist—slim, cinched.

"Yours is...?"

"To surpass myself." Vil jerked his chin toward the girl in the painting. "To shine so brightly that my name not only goes down in history, but overshadows that which was written before."

"That's some big dream you have." Jack shook his head. "The scale's beyond what I can imagine. But knowing how stubborn you are, Vil-senpai... You seriously won't quit until you make that dream come true."

"My, my. Stubborn, am I?" He smirked, arms crossed. "I do believe it takes one to know one.

"You stand back and watch. I'll show you just how dazzling I can be."

His eyes held a steeliness to them. It was matched only by the same in Jack’s. Two strong men and their wills, meeting on equal grounds.

Jack simply nodded—an acknowledgment, an acceptance, of his upperclassman’s confidence. Overwhelming, like a powerful wave, a strong storm, a blazing inferno. He almost felt compelled to drop to one knee, to kneel before such a presence.

Vil turned away from the painting, his arms unraveling from one another. His movements were graceful, nearly ballet-like. And his expression—

Jack caught him mid-laugh. The snooty, airy kind, half-sincere, half-sarcastic. Brows upturned, mouth twisted in a faux sympathetic smile. Flaxen waves framing his lovely features.

His lips moved.

“I’ll topple you from your throne,” Vil vowed.

It was then that Jack noticed.

Vil-senpai's shining like the fair maiden.

[syntheticavenger]

On My Mama - Two

Thank you to @cocobutterqwueen for the support while I was trying to map out this second chapter!

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x Female Reader

Tyler Rake x Female Reader

Andy Barber x Female Reader

Jax Teller x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, more angst, jealousy, a lot of male posturing, persuasiveness.

Summary | Being a single mom with a complicated relationship with your ex-husband makes for an interesting summer after a school event and an unexpected errand puts you front and center with some eligible contenders for your attention.

True to Jax’s word, you’re in and out in less than fifteen minutes, happy to leave Melanie as she gave you a polite but pointed stare when you tried once more to pay him. He wouldn’t have it, slipping you his card in case you needed anything else, his cell written on the back. Not wanting to get in between Melanie’s distraction, there’s nothing left to say but to lobby another gracious thank you his way and slip into the driver’s seat. 

You found out much more than you ever wanted to in those short moments, Melanie whispering in your ear whenever he was out of earshot every detail that she had gathered about him. A single father to a son, a seven-year-old named Abel, rumored to be part of a biker gang – Vice President, Melanie had told you dramatically, her eyelashes batting when she says it like a secret – and more importantly, the best mechanic she’s ever had. 

Nevermind that her husband doesn’t particularly like that she takes her car to get repaired here, a fact she reminded you about at least three times. Melanie’s daughter tells every single bit of her mother’s business and Mia, at her young age, parrots it right back to you, laughing when you sometimes widen your eyes at the somewhat scandalous details, such as when Melanie bought store bought cookies and passed them off as her own, telling her daughter to stay quiet.

But as you had learned, there was no such thing as a secret to a five-year-old.

🌤

The late 90’s music blares through the speakers, pushing your cart down the aisle to continue your search  for marinara sauce. School nights are hard to plan for, especially with Mia’s ever changing appetite. 

This week it’s all about pasta, opting for spaghetti for dinner, even as you feel a small wave of guilt for the vegetables you will puree in the sauce. Reaching for a jar, a familiar face catches your attention, Laurie Barber giving you a wave when she approaches.

You know Laurie well enough to know that she has some gossip to share, usually between her and Melanie trading stories during field trips or snack day rotation.

“How have you been?” she asks, a hint of mischief in her smile. “I’m so happy I ran into you.”

“Oh?” you reply, noticing that she looks around before she finally speaks to make sure the coast is clear.

“You didn’t tell me your ex came to the parents’ lunch,” Laurie accuses playfully. “I had to find out from pictures?”

“Pictures?” you repeat, Laurie nodding her head, digging her phone out of her purse. 

“Of course there are pictures! I’d seen him with Mia when you had pictures of him with her as a baby but holy hell, that man is handsome,” Laurie praises, showing you a photo of Mia in Santiago’s arms, both of them looking intently at a finger painting. “Him being at the school is a good sign, right?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble, Laurie slipping her phone into the pocket of her pants. “It’s a start.”

“Still not on the mend, huh?”

“We’re divorced, Laurie. There’s no going back.”

“Don’t I know it,” she agrees. “It’s been at least three years since Andy and I divorced and I never look back. We got a great kid out of it and Andy’s moving on up in the world and he’s up for pretty big promotion.”

“Andy? That’s great.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t see him. He saw you,” Laurie teases, seeing you shake your head in response.

Every single mother throws themselves at Andy Barber.

You aren’t one of them.

“I guess I must have missed him,” you reply, Laurie shrugging her shoulders.

“You know Andy. I wish he wasn’t married to his work that much so he could get out and see the world, maybe date a nice girl who understands that sense of righteousness that he can’t seem to shake.”

“It’s nice that you’re on good terms.”

“Are you and Santiago not?”

“No,” you say quickly, hating that you feel like you’re now put on the spot. “I mean, we’re good, I guess. I was surprised that he wanted to see the school, he’s pretty much been against her going to public school since before she could even talk.”

“Avon Academy isn’t close to being terrible. He’s always had impossibly high standards, hasn’t he? Didn’t he go to a boarding school in Switzerland?”

“He did. If he had his way that is probably where our daughter would be right now.”

“Alone?” Laurie says incredulously. “She’s five!”

“No, not alone. I’d most likely be in some apartment in Zurich, trying to keep myself busy.”

“Sounds like a dream.”

“It’s lonely,” you respond, Laurie nodding, realizing that you aren’t willing to give up more details.

“Well, selfishly, I’m glad you and Mia are here. I’m also thankful for Santiago for gracing us with his presence.”

You crack a smile then, Laurie trying to contain her laughter as you both laugh. It’s absurd to discuss anything regarding your ex-husband but you know that Laurie is a safe space for you and that little bit of relief is what you need.

“Speaking of hot dads, Melanie told me you got your tire fixed. Jax Teller, huh?”

“Oh, God,” you mutter, running a hand down your face. “She really tells everything, doesn’t she?”

“Your fault for giving her a ride. Come on, don’t be shy.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, I’ve seen him like once and he wasn’t even on a motorcycle. He showed up in a truck to pick up his son.”

“Abel is seven, Laurie.”

“Still disappointing,” Laurie reminds you. “Barely got to see him up close and personal.”

“He’s nice.”

Laurie lets out an inelegant snort at your response.

“Nice? Nice is my neighbor across the way who wears a cardigan and a polo shirt and offers to water my lawn. Jax Teller is not nice. He looks like he could rail you into next week and send you off with a pat on the -”

“Laurie!” you admonish, hearing her laugh.

“I’m kidding but also,” she trails off, tapping the tip of her nose. “You know it’s true.”

Laurie’s cell goes off in her purse, picking up her basket.

“Shit, it’s Andy,” she mutters. “Probably needs me to pick up Jacob. I’ll see you at Jacob’s birthday party. Can’t wait to have a slice of your homemade cake!”

With a nod, she rounds the corner, speaking quickly while you add a box of noodles to the cart when you realize what she told you.

Birthday party?

Birthday cake?

🌤

“You said what?” you ask softly, Mia chewing as she hums.

“I said you could make Jacob’s birthday cake,” Mia offers proudly.

Placing your fork down on your plate, you stare at the wrinkled birthday party invitation that you had to dig through Mia’s unicorn backpack.

“Sweetheart, remember we talked about this? You ask Mommy first.”

“I did,” Mia insists, a smear of marinara at the corner of her lips. “You made mine when I asked.”

“Yes, you asked me to make yours. You did not ask me to make Jacob’s.”

Her little face scrunches up in displeasure at your hesitation, swallowing her food before she defends herself.

“But you’re good at it! Jacob’s daddy said you make the best cake in the whole world!”

“Mia,” you warn, seeing her little shoulders slump.

“No cake?” she asks pitifully, her lower lip trembling. “Please, Mommy? It’s his birthday. He has to have cake.”

“I don’t even know what flavor he likes.”

“He likes banilla!”

“Vanilla,” you correct gently.

“Vanilla and he likes vanilla frosting,” she enunciates. “He told me so.”

With a sigh, you get up, Mia following suit, nearly on your heels when you check the pantry to make sure you have everything you need.

“You’re going to make it?!” she asks, clapping her hands together excitedly. “You’re the best mommy in the whole world!”

“I’ll make it if you promise to finish your dinner.”

Mia gasps, running back to her chair as she climbs up, ignoring your warning for her to wait for you to help her, slurping spaghetti into her mouth.

“We gotta get a gift,” Mia reminds you, as if she didn’t just tell you last minute. “He likes cars.”

“We’ll go tomorrow after school, how does that sound?”

“Okay.”

She finishes her food, watching as you pick her empty plate up from the table, remembering her manners as she wipes her sauce coated fingers with a napkin.

“May I be scused?”

“You may,” you agree, seeing her jump off the chair as it slides backward slightly, nearly giving you a heart attack when she bolts up the stairs.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth!” you call out, hearing her slam the bathroom door.

Pulling out a mixing bowl, you start adding in the ingredients, hearing Mia singing loudly at the top of her lungs.

🌤

You have to hand it to Laurie.

The woman knows how to throw a birthday party. As if directly ripped from a Pinterest page, you and Mia walk through a blue and silver balloon, Laurie’s headband green with alien googly eyes that move back and forth when she hugs Mia.

“Jacob’s out back,” she tells Mia, holding out a pair of headbands – one like hers and another that is hot pink with the same eyes but with lashes. Mia plucks the hot pink ones from her hand, handing them to Laurie so that she can place them on her head, smoothing out her hair before she does so, both of you knowing that she’ll either lose it or break it by the end of the day.

Laurie spies the cake you hold, the piping in blue with an astronaut on the left.

“God, I love your cakes,” Laurie murmurs with glee, taking it from your hands. “I was so happy that Mia said you would do it because I was at my wit’s end with him and trying to make up his mind. First it was a western themed party and then it was a dinosaur party and finally, at the very last minute, he wanted a space party. Gotta love the indecisiveness.”

She looks at your green sundress, settling on your white Mary Janes.

“Finally,” Laurie teases. “You got smart and finally wore flats.”

You were never sure of a dress code, especially with a child’s party. Every party in the city that you attended, kid or not, you were dressed up, right down to the sky high heels. After the last birthday party, you’d gotten wise once your heels had sunk into the grass, leaving a stain that you couldn’t get out.

You pass a contingent of parents, mostly fathers, talking in a huddle, beers in hand while you follow her into the kitchen.

“Andy will be so thrilled that you made a cake. I swear he kept asking. Do you know those peppermint brownies you made last Christmas? He took half the pan home and -”

“I did not,” Andy denies, his gaze settling on the cake when he steps into the kitchen. “Well, well, well. Looks like Jacob got his wish after all.”

You forgot how handsome Andy Barber is up close and personal, his mischievous smile on display when Laurie rolls her eyes.

“Jacob got his wish,” Laurie repeats to you, moving behind you after she sets the cake down. “I’m going to check on the bounce house. Make sure he doesn’t take a slice before the birthday boy, hmm?”

She’s out of your line of sight before you even have a chance to answer, Andy opening the fridge, pulling out a beer before he pauses.

“Do you drink?” he asks cautiously.

“I do.”

Still holding the beer in his hand, he glances at the pitcher on the top shelf.

“Beer or what I think may be a cosmopolitan. Laurie always has some sort of signature drink for these types of things.”

“I’ll take a beer,” you offer, Andy placing it into your hand after lobbing off the cap.

“Good choice. Last time we had a mom who downed three Tom Collins before she realized what hit her.”

You don’t dare share that you’re a lightweight, taking a swig of your beer while Andy leans back against the counter.

“I saw you at the parent luncheon, didn’t I?”

“I was there,” you confirm.

“That lunch was something else,” Andy comments, making a face. “I thought Jacob was teasing when he mentioned glue. Turns out the kid was onto something.”

“Glue?”

“You didn’t try the sandwiches?”

“No,” you say, trying to stifle your laughter at the look of pure disgust on his face. “I’m sure we’ll get a letter of an apology like we did with the dirt pudding cups last year.”

“I must have missed that.”

“You’d remember,” you point out, suddenly feeling self-conscious when you notice his eyes lingering on you. “What?”

He straightens up, looking over your shoulder, his index finger moving in a circle.

“Turn around?” he asks, your eyes narrowing suspiciously as you turn, seeing the ties of your dress float around you.

“Shoot,” you mumble, placing your beer down to try to reach behind you.

“I can help you,” he offers, keeping still when you feel his hands pick up the fabric, carefully drawing them together, the warmth of his breath on your back as he checks to make sure you’re comfortable. “Too tight?”

“No,” you respond, feeling him tie it quickly, the faint scent of his cologne lingering as he ties it slowly, your eyes looking up at the ceiling, staying still, feeling the slight tug of the bows before you feel him step back to look in approval.

“Better.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, feeling embarrassment wash over you when he waves your appreciation away.

“I was hoping I didn’t touch you with cold hands,” he answers. “Or get into your personal space.”

“I didn’t feel a thing.”

“No comment about the personal space?”

He smiles, lifting his beer to you before taking a sip. 

“Seriously though? Thanks for the cake for Jacob,” Andy thanks you, nodding toward the cake. “This kid hasn’t stopped talking about it once he found out. I gotta admit, they’re pretty damn good. I don’t know what you put in them but I can’t just have one slice.”

“I do the buttercream by hand.”

“Really? Tastes like heaven, that’s for sure. Not sure what you do for a living but if you made that career, I’m just you’d make a fortune.”

“Project manager,” you say, Andy nodding in response. “Wish I had the time. Baking relaxes me.”

“I’d be happy to eat your cake anytime,” he says, trailing off when he realizes what he’s said, laughing to himself as your eyes widen, biting down on your lips at the comment to keep from laughing yourself, when you hear Laurie coming back inside. Eyeing the cake, she looks up at you, turning to Andy.

“Cake is still intact. Guess she distracted you enough.”

🌤

Pete nudges Tyler in the side when you pass by, herding a small group of Jacob’s friends outside who were late arrivals, Laurie calling out to them outside to get their gift bags.

“You’re a married man, Pete,” Tyler reminds him.

“And I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but I have eyes, you know,” Pete counters. “Judging by the rest of us gawking, we all have eyes.”

Tyler can see Hunter running, playing tag with the other kids as they laugh and scream. He catches a glimpse of you, beer in hand as he sees Andy next you and Laurie. It’s a scene he’s still getting used to, seeing Laurie and Andy divorced but still cordial. It’s wistful thinking to believe he could have the same, knowing that the shared custody took years to be processed.

“Does Barber know that Mia’s dad is back in the picture?” another father asks, raising an eyebrow at the sight outside. “Bold move, Andy. Right next to your ex-wife.”

“He never left,” another man chimes in. “Look at her. You really think he wasn’t that far behind? Surprised he showed up, he never comes to these things.”

“Reconciliation,” Pete says with a confident nod.

“He came because it was a special occasion,” Tyler points out, the men turning to look at him.

“How do you know? She told you?”

“Hunter knows Mia through school, and she told him that her father was going to be there because it was important.”

“So, he’s still out of the picture,” one of them hints.

“I don’t hear any of you offering to step up and take care of his child so unless you’re willing to break up your marriages or take on another responsibility, you’re all creeping on a single mother who doesn’t know that you’re looking at her. Excuse me,” Tyler responds, breaking away from the group as he heads outside.

🌤

“Honey, it’s alright,” you say softly, holding onto the boy’s arms gently to keep him steady after he was dropped off unceremoniously on the door step. “It’s alright. You don’t need a gift, okay? Your gift is that you’re here. Your presence is enough, I promise.”

Tyler peers over to look at the boy who is nodding, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. 

Abel Teller.

No doubt his mother had dropped him off without a word, a far cry from his father, Jax, who would have come in to say hello. He would have most certainly provided a gift, even though it wasn’t required, seeing Abel shake his head when he’s asked a question.

“What’s your name?” Tyler hears you ask, soothing him as you dab at his tears that slide down his cheeks. 

“Abel.”

“Hi Abel,” you respond, introducing yourself. “Jacob’s outside. I’m sure he’ll be happy you’re here. Are you ready to go in and have some fun?”

He sniffles, nodding his head when Tyler clears his throat.

“Hunter’s here as well, Abel,” Tyler speaks up. “They’re playing tag, I think. You like that game, don’t you? Why don’t you come with me? They’re still in the thick of it.”

Abel’s eyes light up at the game, following Tyler to the boisterous crowd of children. A few of them recognize him, calling out to him before he leaves Tyler’s side. He can feel you standing next to him, your gaze settling on your daughter who is climbing up the ladder to the slide.

“You know him?” you ask, Tyler nodding as Abel takes off running.

“Yeah,” Tyler says after a pause. “He’s a good kid. His mother… she’s not always present. Father does what he can but when it’s her weeks to take him, it gets a little complicated.”

“I can’t imagine.”

He can hear the uncertainty in your tone, your fingers gripping your beer bottle tighter. He can tell you’re thinking about Abel and before it can go deeper, he nods at the beer in your hand.

“Need another one?”

At his question, you look at him in confusion before he smiles. You’ve been nursing that same beer since he’s seen you, absentmindedly ripping at the wrapper with your nail when no one is looking, a nervous habit that he finds adorable.

“I’m good,” you answer. “Thanks though.”

“How’s it taste?”

You look up at him, unsure of why he’s asking by the way you raise an eyebrow.

“Great,” you tell him, forcing cheerfulness into your confirmation.

He laughs then, seeing how stubborn you are. 

“Never met a woman who liked room temperature beer. You’re one of a kind.”

He sees you smile then, nodding at your lie.

“It tastes terrible,” you admit with a laugh. “But I was running around and by the time I got back to it, I didn’t want to ask for another one. It’s like coffee. I end up reheating it at least four times because I don’t have the time to finish it in one sitting.”

“I can get you another one, you know. No pressure, of course,” Tyler says, putting up his hands.

“I would like one,” you tell him, placing the bottle in his outstretched hand. “Thank you.”

“Thought so. I’ll be right back.”

Mia stops mid run to wave at you, grinning wide when you wave back, taking off after Hunter and Abel when Tyler hands you a beer.

“Thank you,” you say, looking back at the kids when Laurie gives you a pleading look, motioning with her hand that the cake needs to be cut.

“Shall we?” Tyler says.

Laurie calls out to Jacob, the kids lifting their heads so quickly that it reminds Tyler of meerkats, nearly a stampede as the dads remind them to slow down as they head toward the table.

🌤

Forks clink dully on the paper plates, frosting smudging on faces and clothing, moms swooping in to wipe mouths and clean off messes. Mia sits between Hunter and Abel, picking up a buttercream star and eating it, eyes closing in bliss as she dances in her seat.

Collecting discarded plates, you nearly run into Andy, who holds out a trash bag for you to toss them in.

“They’ll sleep good tonight,” Andy assures you, seeing the trio run into the house. “And I know I said this already but the cake… you just knocked it out of the park. Amazing.”

“Thank you, Andy.”

Between the number of kids and adults moving around you both, you focus on cleaning up the leftover cups of juice and water while Andy picks up the plates, working together in unison. 

You don’t really know the ins and outs of his and Laurie’s former relationship, only that they seem to have the co-parenting thing down to a science, no ill will, just a simple partnership that works well for them. Without meaning to, your mind wanders to if they sleep together, much like you and Santiago, watching his tongue run over his lip as he focuses the tower of plates in his hand to the trash.

You blink the impending thought out of your mind. It definitely isn’t any of your business and it only makes you more embarrassed that you have no self-control with Santiago.

Which is only half-true. You’ve been cordial when he asks about Mia, sending him pictures of her at the birthday party.

And you’ve conveniently ignored his text from the picture with you and Mia under the balloon arch.

Nice dress.

“Seriously though,” Andy says, any hint left of Santiago disappearing in a flash as he smiles at you. “Thanks for coming and helping. Laurie couldn’t do this without you, and I know I couldn’t clean this up alone. Crazy how people love coming to parties but when it’s time to clean… it’s suddenly time to go home.”

“I’m still here, Barber,” Tyler interrupts, holding up a trash bag. “Did you forget about the poppers with the streamers in them? They’re everywhere.”

“When Laurie throws a party, she goes all out, I told you,” Andy informs him.

Laurie stands, rubbing her lower back with her fingers when the doorbell rings. The small clean-up crew continues on, tidying up before the vendors come and finish up. A soft whisper of your name from Laurie makes you move away from the Andy and Tyler, both of them engaged in sports talk.

Hunter and Mia are asleep on one side of the large sectional, Jacob laid out in the middle and Abel on the other side. Standing in the entryway, Jax zeroes in on his son before he engages in a hushed conversation with Laurie for a moment, both of them turning their attention on you when you approach.

“Sorry,” Laurie says, frustration in her voice as she gives you a small squeeze of your hand. “I’m going to send Abel home with a gift bag. Would you mind showing Jax where he is?”

Jax gives you a glance when you give him a smile, hearing him sigh behind you.

“Sorry to come so late,” he says in a hushed voice as he looks on at the sleeping kinds. “Got word last minute that my ex wasn’t going to pick up Abel and I was doing a double at the shop.”

“He’s been fine,” you assure him, watching as he carefully picks up his son without waking him, brushing back his hair as he focuses on his son’s face for a moment. It’s a tender moment, one that you don’t pay attention to for too long, unsure of what to say. You can feel the anger radiating off of him, muttering to himself as he places a kiss on Abel’s head.

“We’re going home, buddy,” he says, Abel’s eyes opening for a scant second before closing once more.

Laurie meets you at the door with Abel’s gift bag, Jax extending his hand to you as you shake it, Laurie giving him a hug, careful not to wake Abel.

“You know he’s welcome here anytime,” Laurie tells him, the sliding glass door closing in the distance.

“I appreciate that, Mrs. Barber.”

“Laurie is fine, Jax. Do you have my number?”

When he shakes his head, Laurie has her phone in hand, waiting for Jax to recite his number.

“I’ll make sure she has it too,” Laurie promises, referring to you as he nods, giving you a hint of smile.

“Have a good night, sorry again for being so late to pick him up.”

Laurie closes the door after you both see Abel get settled into the truck, turning around to face Tyler and Andy.

“Teller?” Andy asks Laurie.

“The one and only.”

“Pity I missed that,” Andy murmurs. “I would have liked to ask him a few questions.”

“You leave your interrogations at work,” Laurie fires back softly, keeping her voice down. “He’s a father doing his job.”

“Oh, he’s got a job, alright.”

Tyler checks his watch, heading toward the couch where he looks over the remaining sleeping kids. You follow suit, your cell phone vibrating in your purse that is on a chair.

“Need some help?” Tyler asks, Laurie and Andy still in the foyer, their hushed voices a cue that he’s not ready to let whatever he knows about Jax Teller go.

“Actually,” you pause for a moment, looking at how peaceful Mia looks. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”

He’s gentle when he scoops her into his arms, cradling her to his chest as Mia doesn’t move, her breathing steady as he carries her toward the door.

“Not everything has to be investigated, Andy. Sometimes people can make mistakes and learn from them,” Laurie says, her words fading out when she sees Tyler holding Mia.

“I hope my spirited debate with Andy didn’t scare you away,” Laurie says, shooting Andy a glare. ‘We differ on justice and knowing when to pick our battles.”

Andy stays silent, his eyes locking with yours.

“Thanks again for today,” he says, Laurie nodding in agreement. “Get home safe.”

Tyler waits until you collect your purse, hug Laurie goodbye and give Andy a quick hug, inhaling the scent of his cologne once more that is intoxicating. Underneath that Henley, you realize there is a solid wall of muscle, something you weren’t expecting to feel before you head out the door and down the steps, opening the backseat for Tyler to place Mia in her car seat. Her head falls back on the headrest, still fast asleep when you close the door, checking to see if the movement woke her.

“Thank you,” you tell him softly, waving to Laurie, who is standing in the doorway.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do.”

Warmth radiates off of him, trying to get the picture of how quickly he had lifted Mia into his arms so smoothly out of your mind.

“I was thinking,” Tyler says, looking over behind you to see Mia still asleep. “If you’re interested, maybe you’d like to go to dinner with me.”

It’s finally cool now that the sun has gone down but your face is warm, nearly burning with anxiety on what to say. You haven’t been asked out on a date since your ex, let alone even entertaining the thought if you were ever asked.

But now you have been asked and you need to give an answer.

You only get one chance at this.

“Sure,” you reply. “I’d like that.”

“Great,” he says. “I can give you my number. There’s no pressure, of course, if you find that you want to cancel or that you’re not interested then let me know and -”

You recite your number, Tyler realizing almost too late as he punches in the number, sending you a text.

“Get home safe and uh, just let me know when you’re interested in going. My schedule is pretty open this week and next.”

You see Andy standing next to Laurie, both of them waiting until you get into the car, turning on the lights and the engine starting before they take a step back into the house. Easing out of the parking spot, you see Tyler heading back inside to presumably get Hunter, text messages popping up on the screen during your drive home.

Birthday party? Is that why you’re all dressed up?

Need a favor.

I’ll be there in an hour.

At the last message, you look at the timestamp when you pull over. The time is nearly ten and the message was sent almost an hour ago. With Mia still fast asleep, you take the quickest way home, unsure if he’s already beat you there.

🌤

Pulling into the garage, you see him leaning against his SUV, your resolve hanging on by a thread.

He never visits at night. Always morning, always in between meetings or a flight, or some appointment.

When the car is turned off, you hear the back door open, looking over as he studies Mia’s sleeping face.

“Out like a light,” he murmurs, smoothing back her hair. “She must have partied hard.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask quietly, his dark eyes snapping up to look at you.

“You didn’t get my texts? Got a late flight out tomorrow, Derek was able to charter it at the local airport, so I figured I’d come and see my girls.”

He unlatches Mia from her car seat, careful when he lifts her into his arms while you get out of the car. In a way, it feels like this should be a snapshot or normalcy, domestic life that you had a taste of once that had been snatched away without having properly processed what had transpired before it was too late.

The promise you had made to yourself still lingers in the depths of your thoughts, propelling you forward when you open the door, letting Santiago carry Mia across the threshold, heading up the stairs slowly while you watch him disappear.

It would be so easy to fall into the same routine. To have him share your bed, to give and give as he takes, lusty promises against your skin that he doesn’t intend to keep because he knows you well enough that you won’t hold him to it.

Placing Mia’s gift bag on the kitchen island counter, you know you could follow him, let his lips trace a line down your neck.

Picking up your phone, you send off a text, heart skipping a beat at what you’ve done. For a moment, you don’t think there will be a reply.

Your answer comes swiftly, Santiago coming down the stairs.

I’m glad you made it home safe.

🌤

Santiago follows you up the stairs, your silk robe billowing out behind you.

“I liked the pictures,” he tells you once you reach the top of the stairs. “I’ve always loved the color green on you.”

“Why are you really here?” you ask, turning around to face him. His shirt is half unbuttoned, revealing a hint of the chest tattoo.

“I told you,” Santiago reminds you. “I wanted to see my girls.”

“Since when?”

He leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest when he narrows his gaze.

“Since I saw the pictures you sent me. You’ve always held people’s attention. A child’s birthday party is no different.”

“I wasn’t sending them to you to make you jealous.”

He smirks at your passionate denial.

“And I’m not jealous. I know every inch of your body, every little nook and cranny that makes you come apart. They don’t know you the way I do so no,” Santiago says with a sigh. “I don’t think you were trying to make me jealous, but I think you’re lonely. I think the men in that picture know it too, judging the way they were staring..”

“I’m not.”

He gives you that perfect smile, looking you up and down.

“We both know how this always ends. We’re good for each other. Maybe not emotionally but physically, we’re compatible and we always have been. There’s no one else I would have wanted to have my child, to be the mother of my precious daughter. I can’t get enough of you still.”

He pushes himself off of the wall, settling his hands on either side of your face, your fingers wrapping around his wrists. It feels euphoric, his lips close to yours, body pressed against you, and it feels familiar, like you aren’t living separate lives when he kisses you.

“I can’t,” you whisper against his mouth, his forehead resting against yours.

“You can. I’ll take care of you like I always do.”

Your hand flattens on his chest, feeling his heartbeat when you close your eyes. You want to, you already know how it would end, tangled in sheets and alone when you wake.

Satisfied but alone, yet again.

“I can’t sleep with you anymore. This isn’t healthy for either of us. You can have the guest bedroom,” you answer, moving away from him as he lets you go.

“Guest bedroom,” he repeats, seeing you head toward your bedroom. “I’ll leave the door open if you need me.”

Closing the door behind you, you lean against it, squeezing your eyes shut as you ignore the ache between your thighs.

🌤

Sun shines in your eyes, startling you when you toss away the blanket, looking down to find yourself still clothed, clad in your shorts and t-shirt. The sigh of relief that flows from your lips gives you a sense of calm, nearly laughing to yourself that you had the willpower to deny the man who you’ve willingly given your body to after the divorce.

The savory scent of breakfast hangs in the air, scrambling to get up when you look at the time. It’s well past the time you had meant to wake up, running down the stairs to stop in your tracks.

Santiago cracking another egg in the bowl while Mia carefully picks out pieces of fruit to place them on a tray. Bacon, pancakes and oatmeal is on the table, something you haven’t had the time to make in at least six months with Mia’s busy school schedule.

“Oh, you’re finally up,” Santiago greets you, Mia dropping a strawberry on the counter as she hops off the step, running after you when she clings to your legs.

“Hi Mommy! Daddy and I are making breakfast!” Mia announces loudly, standing on her tiptoes to see what her father is doing. “I want an o-mel-le.”

“Omelet,” Santiago corrects gently, Mia nodding.

“Yeah, one of those!” Mia agrees.

Santiago cleans as he works, wiping off a counter before he checks on the omelet he’s making for Mia. 

A ripple of resentment goes through you at the thought of what this means. He and Mia always make breakfast together when it’s his week with her. It’s something Mia looks forward to when she’s packing her suitcase to see her father, knowing that the best you and Mia can do is a rushed breakfast of toast or instant waffles.

Father of the beginning of the day, you think, sitting at the table after Mia points to your chair, Santiago placing a glass of orange juice in front of you.

“Breakfast is almost done,” he reminds you. “Coffee?”

Before you have a chance to answer, a mug of hot coffee is placed next to the orange juice, Mia giggling when he turns back to the stove, flipping the omelet over as she claps her hands excitedly.

Mia whispers to her father, the hushed discussion reaching you. Curious, Mia covers her mouth when she sees you staring.

“Secrets don’t make friends,” you tease her gently.

“We’re going on a tour!” Mia blurts out, Santiago plating her omelet, holding it high above her head.

“A what?” you ask, Santiago placing her plate down and lifting Mia onto the chair.

“A tour,” Santiago repeats.

“I heard her,” you protest, Mia grabbing her fork as she stabs into her breakfast. “A tour where?”

Santiago sits across from you, Mia focused on shoving a piece of fruit in her mouth as he looks at the breakfast spread and back to you.

“We’re touring St. Mary’s today.”

[cigarett3wif3]

TOMB FOR TWO

Rockstar Leon S. Kennedy x model reader | AO3 18+ MDNI. smut, female reader, drugs and alcohol addiction implied, Leon is scumbag i guess, blowjob, use of coke, deepthroat i guess, dirty talk. tags: @ivmp words: 2,934

notes: so.... dont do drugs/alcohol and idk i feel like i need to clarify, some stuff here i heard in real life directly from insufferable men, so don't interract with such kind of people for ur own good.

Leon loves ladies, he was always the kind of man who loved every woman, if she was attractive enough to his taste of course. Also, he considered himself a nice guy, but a lot of girls didn’t get him. It got a lot worse when he cheated on his ex-girlfriend, after that nasty breakup and a slap he received, it felt like she had put a curse on him. Maybe he is cursed, it would explain why his attempts to form established relationships always failed. At least the passion for music was always with him, no matter how hard it was for him and it has helped indeed him in many areas; gaining more ego and becoming finally a rockstar, which certainly has helped him find lovers to warm his bed.

In his mind, he has already created his own list of preferences, models were always a big ‘no’ cause pretty dolls in the majority were the most annoying ones in his honest and ‘humble’ opinion. A lot of them are anorectic, and Leon doesn’t need a girl whose only hard thing in her mouth would have been his dick. Also, pretty women are usually really intimidating and have high standards, he doesn’t want to risk a possible denial. Cool guys don’t get hurt.

But that list didn’t help him at all, it didn’t prevent him from getting involved with you so quickly. A model and you looked sick for his tastes, dark circles under your eyes and lack of any vivid light in them too. He put two and two together, probably you did often drugs and he didn’t know which ones, he never asked. Your first appearance was at one of the events where his band performed and you were bored to death, gaze leaped around the surroundings, trying to find something more interesting to linger on than whatever this place is. Your pupils were dilated as hell and your jaw was tensed, making those useless movements and biting inside of your cheeks. He didn’t give much thought and he was drunk already while your fingertips were tracing his jaw and a sparkle in your eyes was enough for him. And after all, you agreed to come with him. His expectations weren’t high, another quick one-night stand he would forget about, but after stepping into his apartment you got sick. Vomiting in his toilet until it became quiet and he decided to check, after all, he is a good guy, really. And he doesn’t need a corpse in his flat. Pulling your hair to tilt your face towards him and witness your exhausted expression; your lips parted with saliva glistening on them and circles under your half-lidded eyes got more evident and darker. All this combined led to him having the hardest boner he has ever had.

Your presence in his life only gave him a boner and a headache, also an urge to strangle and shake you like a doll, but he never had enough strength to leave you behind and forget everything related to you. He tried, his mind would fill with thoughts about you, leading to jerk off a lot when he is sober and not recording music. His drunk ass would always crawl back to you, after feeling your eyes on him everywhere even when he was smoking out of a bar. Those billboards with your face, promoting some products and looking ethereal, without sickness all over your face, feeling your gaze as if it was only directed towards him. Those photos were the reasons his legs always lead him to your place, finding you already hammered as much as he is, if not worse, more than happy to let him spill his load in your mouth or pussy. After all, Leon is a simple man, not a romantic one, romanticism has died within him after that ‘undeserved’ slap.

Needles were a big ‘no’ for you, explaining they can leave marks and they are scary, also those are used by drug-addicted people which you believed you aren’t. After all, you like them thanks to your dear and generous friend who shares them with you. While Leon was an old-fashioned man, he has always preferred booze, even after finding himself in weird situations without any memories, only with pain pulsing in his head and hangover. You didn’t understand that at all, it has never brought you any good sensations, also alcohol has a distinct smell you have always hated and there is nothing sexy about it. That’s why Leon was always simple in your eyes, a rockstar with little to no existent layers in his personality; one hand with the bottle and the other one on his dick. In the end, both can destroy many lives.

Of course, whatever you both had going on gave you the possibility to visit his concerts without spending a penny. Leon has never asked if you like his music though, but still, he believes it is good, after all, there wouldn’t be a big female fanbase over anything? So there was never a thought behind his eyes to consider your tastes. Besides, you didn’t attend often, always brushing off your runway shows to which he was never invited. Not like he needed to be there, but still it made him feel a little bit bitter. Other reasons were similar to ‘I don’t want to’ and if to be honest, this isn’t a valid reason for his calls to be ignored.

This time you didn’t have other options, nor Leon would let you skip his performance. Soon understanding it was a mistake, you shouldn’t be here, cause during the entire concert his attention was drifting in between his music and you, trying to find you among many women. Every time he notices you not listening to the sound the instruments create, it fills him with bitterness and annoyance. Time passed slowly, finally finishing performance and emptying his flask quickly. He was tempted to leave you alone, to not give any warning, and get another girl from the crowd, but also this would be risky for a lot of reasons; first, he doesn’t have any condoms, and second, groupies are annoying and he doesn’t want to deal with them for a quick fuck today. The only solution he came across was to leave this place earlier and push you into his car.

The ride is okay, the only noise is some music coming from the car stereo. He twitched a little bit with the switch before, but he didn’t really listen to whatever was on until he recognized his own song. A nice touch. “Your music sucks” you say, breaking the silence which was only filled with his voice coming from the radio. This is new for you, music is his job, and what does a model know about it? His face turns to look at you for a brief moment, he is driving and he doesn’t want to get himself killed cause of you. “It doesn’t.” Leon protests quickly, but your voice interrupts him again, making him groan and want to stop the car. To strangle you. People love him! His groupies would be green with envy if they ever got to know about you. “It does” you say, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and looking through the window before rolling it down and letting fresh air coming in. The wind noise is ear beating, enough to give him a headache, nor does it help with his mood right now. Bashing noise to his ears, but you don’t care. Your voice fills the room, too bad it is loud enough to catch on and it is not mixed with the sound of the wind. The road is dark, and it is already hard to drive after consuming alcohol, but your voice makes this worse. “Your music never changes, mundane, same melody. Boring even, and generic. I don’t like it”

Then you stay silent, Leon’s mind is buzzing with only two thoughts in it: what a bitch you are, how he wants to shut you up with his dick and he needs to calm down, to let off steam. That’s three or four though. Math wasn’t his forte.

He pulled over his car, almost stumbling over from it as the chilly night breeze hit his face, filling his lungs. Refreshing and sobering in some way. It is dark, he didn’t even notice how he moved to your side and opened the door, looking down at your face with a blank stare, while his slow mind keeps processing your words. You shift on the seat of the car to face him with a raised eyebrow, looking so annoyed and confused by his attitude. Leon isn’t sure why he was hurt by your words, but this look was not new for him; every time a sentence would leave his mouth, your face would express an annoyance as if he just said the dumbest thing possible. You are probably just trying to mess with him and this always made him hornier, his cock would start stiffening in his jeans and even this isn’t an exception, like one of Pavlov’s dogs he is. Or this is just alcohol talking.

The inside of the car enlightens your features and it is maybe the only thing so bright in such a dark spot right now of the road. His index finger brushes over your lower lip, tracing the contour of soft flesh beneath his thickened skin after years of playing guitar. He can’t help but stare at your mouth, admiring the lipstick on it, looking clean and emphasizing the shape of your lips. Too bad his digit smeared the color a little bit over the form. You don’t notice that thank God, cause he doesn’t need another comment from you. Silence makes you much prettier. Your hand reaches for his thigh, brushing over the inner part and the annoyance in your gaze quickly changes to interest as it slowly travels down to the bulge which started to form already. Leon doesn’t know what magic you use on him, cause it is much easier to get even half-hard dick with you, while the majority of girls would waste his time and then cry about not being able to turn him on. He blamed this trouble on them, not on his best friend (booze). To not waste much time, you tuck out his cock from his pants.

Your fingers envelop his half-hard length, before stroking, spitting a mouthful of your saliva down on it. Spreading over the hardened skin with a quick and easy motion of your hand, your touch lingers on the spot below its tip which makes him groan lowly. His fingers tangle in your strands, pulling your face closer to his cock as a silent plea to sink your mouth down around him.

“Don’t play, come on,” Leon says, not noticing how his voice got hoarse. “Give it a kiss, doll” In the past, you would be annoyed at his words, but tonight you don’t mind, enjoying how pretty he is when he wants to shove his dick down your throat. Your lips press against his tip and kiss around it, teasing him and licking away precum, finally bobbing your head down. The warm and wet heat of your mouth envelops his cock, your tongue flicks along the shaft. Leon can feel himself getting harder and his hips buck back in response, letting quiet groans. But the bliss didn’t last a lot, you pop out his cock and slap it against your tongue, rubbing against your lips while keeping eye contact with his eyes. The sight is dirty, lipstick leaves its color on his wet and throbbing dick, intensifying the moment.

Until he noticed there was something under your silver sequin top, that caught his gaze only now. But also he doesn’t know what it may be, wondering silently and fixating on your chest. Or he is just seeing things, until your hand slightly lowers the edge of fabric to take the bag with white powder, satisfying his curiosity. The timing made him frown, almost convincing himself you could read his mind. But also, what should he have expected? Boobs would be nice, actually.

He isn’t going to deny a pleasure to see them. That’s why his hands reach for the edge of the fabric, pulling down to expose your breasts, nipples get harder at the contact with the cold air of the night. His fingers knead soft flesh, thumb and index pinch nipples to evoke your moans out, observing your face change even for a brief moment because of him until you slap away his hands. It was nice while it lasted. He watches how you make a thin white line on his cock, almost dripping some on your skirt, and letting a curse fall from your lips. If to be honest, this is his first time seeing you doing drugs in front of him. Also, there are too many ways to consume Coke, he heard about how some women shove it in their vagina, but he isn’t sure if this is true. You lean down and snort it away with an ‘ah’ leaving your lips, while rubbing your nose and blinking messily, trying to shake off some tears forming on your waterline. He was tempted to try, but you don’t share.

“Fuck, that was hot” Leon comments, letting a low whistle. Your hand pumps his cock in a steady rhythm.

The little pause was over, with a giggle and lightened expression on your face, coke does wonders. Your mouth starts giving kisses, before sucking on the tip more eagerly than before, and your tongue swirls in a circular motion around it. For a brief moment, you shift to the underside too by flicking over that sensitive spot, making his hips buck, pushing your head deeper to sink you down along the length. You can feel more saliva pooling in your mouth, slobbering over his cock now, and spit drips down onto his balls. The Coke has its visible influence now, dilated pupils are directed into his blue eyes, keeping eye contact. He knows that state of yours, being happy and confident to do anything, clinging and not letting him go away until powder’s effects don’t start to weaken. Your heart is beating loudly in your ears, not hearing those loud suction noises your mouth does which he adores. Leon’s fingers tighten his grip on your hair, tugging and pushing your head deeper, his tip kissing your throat and he groans, while your nose rubs against his happy trail. Your jaw is more relaxed, taking him deeply and you try to swallow the excess of saliva and his precum, so your throat tightens around his cock, he can feel you choking on his now twitching arousal. It is useless, you can feel saliva dripping not only on his sac now, but also from the corners of your mouth down to your collarbone. Leon pulls your head away before slamming with quick motion his hips against your face again. His cock is slick with your saliva, sloppily moving out and back into your mouth, constant stimulation of your tongue flicking against his head and at the base made his balls tighten signaling that his orgasm is approaching. Initially, his own moans are breathless, slowly starting to increase in volume, as he took more control in his own hands. His movements are erratic, the sight of your teary expensive mascara and lipstick ruined by him and leaving marks on his cock is one of many reasons to be alive, he thinks.

“Do you see yourself right now, huh?” He moans, shaking his head with disbelief, as you keep sucking him off sloppily, making more wet sounds that intensify and fill the air between you both. His voice is at the edge of quiet whine, needy moans reach your ears. “Yeah, that’s it, all you have to do is let my cock just slide in and out of your pretty mouth, doll”

He slams his hips for the last time burying his cock deep into your throat, the head grinds before twitching for a last time spurting out a load of cum. His fingers grip tighter, almost painfully, not letting you pull away and spit it out, swallowing the bitterness that fills your senses, making you gag more. The booze diet isn’t the best one. He lets you pull away, your tongue for the last time brushed his tip and he stands still, his breathing is unsteady and chaotic, while you wipe away the remaining saliva from your skin.

“So….” Leon interrupts the silence between them, he is speaking without giving too much thought, and he quickly pauses for a second, trying to organize a decent sentence. “What about… something formal? Between us I mean” Your eyes don’t even linger on his face after his question, the so-known-annoyance returns to your face and you pull down the sun visor to fix your makeup. “Ew, no” your voice expresses disgust at the thought of being more than just a quick hookup, you roll your eyes as your thumb cleans the smear of your lipstick. Your nose twitches still, even if the effect of the drug starts to lessen. “I don’t like you like that” “It was a joke,” he brushes off quickly, feeling his own body recovering from orgasm and wanting to get away from you, so the bitterness and disappointment would not irk him so much. “For God’s sake, smile at least.”

Story of his life, nothing new.

[junekissed]

packages, boxes and bags

day eight of junkissed's svt season's greetings event

member — boyfriend!seokmin x reader genre — the sweetest and purest fluff word count — 3.1k synopsis — you’re having trouble finding the perfect gift for your boyfriend on your first christmas together. maybe his friends can help. warnings — a little cursing, reader is called seokmin's girlfriend, pet names (baby, honey), they are so damn cute it hurts, when can i have my own seokmin god please i'm begging notes — lowercase intended. i apologize this is late but i was busy the past couple days and i also didn't have much inspo for this. so imagine my surprise when today i sit down at my laptop and boom three thousand words just. appear. but i am so happy with how this turned out and i hope you will be too. i must warn you all this is disgustingly sweet and precious and i definitely screamed into my pillow more than once while writing this. i hope you enjoy :) p.s. i promise this isn't an ad for kay jewelers— blame @duhnova for that

one reblog = one (almost) engagement ring

you shut your laptop closed and groan, putting your head in your hands. this was never going to work.

you’ve spent the better part of your day off on websites like amazon, macy’s, even walmart, trying to find the perfect gift for seokmin.

despite being together almost seven months now, it’s the first time you’ll be spending christmas together. and… you have absolutely no idea what to get him.

first you thought about getting him some little gadget for his computer at work, maybe a new keyboard or a cute new mouse pad. but then you remembered how he told you in passing the other day how he couldn’t stand how his job had him hunched over his computer all day, and he was thinking about looking for a new one where he wouldn’t have to be on it so much.

then you thought you might get him a nice framed picture of the two of you, something small to keep in his apartment for when you’re not there. but when you came over last weekend, the first thing he did was show you the digital photo frame he found in his closet that his mom got him for his birthday that he’d forgotten about. he was stoked to “finally be able to put it to good use” and had programmed it with dozens of pictures of the two of you.

you’d tried google. you’d looked at every gift-giving website under the sun. you’d even asked your best friend what she was getting for her boyfriend for christmas to see if it might spark an idea. 

but everything you come across is either something he already has, something he doesn’t need, or something he could easily get on his own.

so… you were stuck. thoroughly and completely stuck.

meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, seokmin is currently on the other side of town, running through the mall in a panic, trying to figure out what to get you.

he knows he shouldn’t have waited until three days before christmas to get his holiday shopping done, but he’s been busy– there’s a huge promotion up at his job, and he’s doing everything he can to get it. not only would it mean less sitting at his desk all day and more moving around, it would also mean a big raise, so you can finally move in together like you both have been wanting to. now that would be a perfect christmas present if he gets the position, but he won’t find out if he has or not until the new year, so that rules that out. 

it’s your first christmas together, so he really wants to go all out. winter is his favorite season, and now he gets to spend it with his favorite person, so why wouldn’t he make it something extravagant? except… he can’t find anything to get you.

so here he is at the mall downtown, ducking into every store and searching for something, anything that might give him an idea of a gift you might like.

he doesn’t wanna buy you clothes, because that’s lame, and also because he doesn’t wanna get something that’s not guaranteed you’ll like. what if you think the fabric is too itchy, or you don’t like the pattern? returning or even exchanging his gift would mean a big failure.

he doesn’t wanna buy you the trinkets he found at that one gift shop, because even though they are cute, they’re not special enough to get for you. these are the type of things he’d pick up for you on his way home from work as an everyday treat, or at the very most, a stocking stuffer; you deserve more than some cheap little thing he found on a whim.

he thought about getting you a new purse, because you said you’ve been needing one since the strap on your current one broke, but he’s pretty sure you already bought yourself one when your boss gave you an amazon gift card as a thank-you for all the overtime you’ve been doing lately.

it seems like everything he thinks of to get you is a dumb idea. so now he’s stuck. thoroughly and completely stuck.

you sigh, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your gallery, praying that one of the photos is hiding some kind of sign that’ll tell you exactly what to buy him. but as expected, there’s no magic word or wish list or qr code that leads to the perfect gift.

you’re just about to give up and call him and just ask him what he wants, when an idea hits you. calling him would be admitting to him you can’t think of something special to give him, but calling his friends… now that, that might get you somewhere. they’ve known him for way longer than you have, they must have some idea of things he likes or might want.

you quickly dial the number of his friend minghao. you’ve only met him a few times at some get-togethers, but he seems like the most responsible out of his group, and the most likely to give you a helpful answer.

he picks up on the first ring, but the voice that answers… isn’t minghao?

“hello seokmin’s girlfriend! this is minghao’s phone, how can i help you!”

“junhui, i told you to stop touching my phone!” you hear a voice in the background that you guess is minghao.

“fi-ine,” the first voice—junhui?—grumbles, and you hear a shuffling noise as you assume the phone is being passed back to its owner.

minghao sighs. “hi. sorry about him. what’s up?”

you try not to laugh at the phone mix-up. “just, uh, have a question for you.”

“mhm?” he prods.

“has… seok mentioned anything he wants for christmas? or, like, is there anything you know he needs?” you ask, hoping it sounds nonchalant.

he hums. “mm, not really. are you trying to come up with a christmas gift for him?”

you whine. “yeah. but i’ve tried everything, i can’t think of a single good thing to give him.”

minghao pauses. “he’s really sentimental, but you probably already figured that out by now. the best i can suggest is something homemade, or something related to some kind of memory you have together. he’d like that.”

you freeze. “i… i think i’ve got an idea,” you say jumping up from your chair. “you’re the best, minghao, i owe you big time for this.”

“don’t worry about it. merry christmas.”

you hang up the phone and open your laptop again. this just might work.

you hadn’t planned on spending this much on seokmin’s present, but why not go all out? sure, you’ll have to cut back on your morning coffee for a couple weeks, but it’ll be worth it to see the look on his face on christmas morning.

at the same time, across town seokmin’s just walking out of the jewelry store, a shiny velvet box tucked into his jacket pocket. it’s a lot more than he wanted to pay for it, but it’s better than showing up empty-handed. besides, if that promotion comes through like he hopes, he’ll pay it off in no time. it might have cost a small fortune, but he just knows it’ll look so pretty on you. he can’t wait to see you wear it.

christmas eve finally rolls around and you’re standing outside the door to seokmin’s apartment, your arms full of bags for the weekend you’re spending with him.

his entire face lights up the second he opens the door, and he squeezes you in a tight hug before giving you a soft kiss. “hi baby,” he says, almost shyly. “merry christmas.”

he grabs the bags from you to carry them inside, and you give him another kiss. “merry christmas.”

he takes your things back to his room to set them down, then comes back out into the living room, wrapping his arms around you again. “i’m so glad you get to be here,” he says quietly.

“mm. me too.”

the room is quiet, besides the faint honking of cars outside. you snuggle up on the couch together, picking out a movie to watch, the dim lights casting a soft glow around the apartment.

“do you wanna open your present now?” he asks when the screen turns black and the credits slowly roll past.

“seok, you have to wait until christmas! we can’t open all our presents tonight!” you giggle, and he pouts.

“please?” he says, looking up at you with those big, pleading eyes you adore so much. 

“fine,” you concede. “but only one! or else we won’t have anything to open in the morning.”

he grins and gets down on the floor beside the couch, crawling over to the tree to grab a small wrapped box nestled into the bottom branches. he comes back over and sits at the base of the couch, putting one knee up as he hands you the box.

he grins up at you as you tear open the wrapping paper, revealing the soft velvet jewelry box.

you look down at him, and he nods eagerly, motioning for you to open it. you hesitate. it definitely looks expensive, way more than you would’ve wanted him to spend on you. but you did pay almost $300 renting the place for his gift, so you write it off as being even.

you delicately pry the box open with your fingernail, revealing a breathtaking ring absolutely covered in diamonds and intricate silver gilding. it gleams even in the low light, sitting in its little velvet box, staring up at you.

you gasp, throwing your hand over your mouth. “seokmin, what the fuck is this!?”

his smile instantly drops, the color draining from his cheeks. “do you not like it? i can probably still return it, i have the receipt–”

“no!” you shout, and he jumps, eyes wide. “no,” you repeat, calmer this time. “no, i love it. it’s gorgeous. i just– i thought we were doing… small presents first?” you stutter, still in shock at the beautiful piece of jewelry in your shaking hands.

he blushes. “i… wanted you to wear it now,” he murmurs.

you study him, and suddenly you realize he’s still down on the carpet on one knee. and everything finally clicks.

you scream as you jump up from the couch. “seokmin, you’re not proposing, are you?” you gasp.

“no?” he stammers, confused why you’d think he is, before realizing himself that he looks… well, he definitely looks like he’s proposing.

he hurriedly puts his knee down, sitting flat on the carpet. “i’m not! i’m not. this is just a really nice ring, i swear,” he rushes to explain. “at least, not yet,” he mumbles under his breath, but you don’t hear him. you’re still focused on the fact that there’s more diamonds in this ring than you can count on one hand.

you’re still standing in front of him, mouth hanging open, and he’s starting to get worried because you haven’t said a word in a few minutes. “do you want me to propose?” he asks hesitantly. because, screw it, he’s already got the nice ring; if you’re ready, then he’s ready, might as well—

“no! i mean, yes, i do, i really do, but not right now, i…” you trail off, not sure how to continue.

the room is silent, both of you staring at each other. after a minute he stands up, taking his seat back on the couch. “oh no,” he says, finally breaking the silence with a groan. “i ruined this, didn’t i?”

“no,” you sigh, having recovered enough from the shock to sit next to him again. “no, of course not. i’m just… surprised. i wasn’t expecting this. it must’ve cost a fortune.”

“it’s rude to ask someone the price of a gift, you know,” he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“trust me, i’m not asking,” you laugh. “i don’t even wanna know.”

“can… can i put it on you?” he asks, his voice getting soft again.

you look at him, and then at the glittering diamond ring in his hand, and you can’t not accept it. you nod, letting out a quiet “mhm” in agreement.

your eyes start to water as he slides it onto your finger, and he looks up worriedly when you sniffle. “it’s so pretty, oh my god,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.

“please don’t cry,” he says softly, and he looks so upset that you have to reassure him you’re not mad and you just really, really like your gift. 

you admire how it looks on your finger for a second before you scoot closer to him and wrap your arms around him.

“i love it, baby,” you murmur. “you really didn’t have to do this.”

he hums. “but i wanted to. i wanted to show you how much i love you.”

tears well up in your eyes again, and you bury your face in his neck to hide them. “you already show me. every single day.”

he sighs, a happy sigh, relaxing into your arms. “i’m glad you like it.”

you stay like that for a while, gently rocking back and forth on the couch, peacefully enjoying everything. the scent of his cologne wafts around you, a comforting, familiar smell, and the colorful lights of the christmas tree shine softly in the background. you wouldn’t want to spend christmas anywhere else.

you pull away a little, breaking the silence with a short laugh. “mine’s gonna look so stupid compared to yours,” you pout as you snuggle into his side, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“are you gonna make me wait until tomorrow to open it?” he asks, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“no,” you sigh. “it’s probably after midnight by now, anyway.” you lift yourself out of his arms, going back into his room to get his present from one of your bags.

it’s a lightweight little box, and you hand it down to him. the gift itself isn’t big in size, but you know he likes taking the wrapping off, so you put it in a box and wrapped it for him.

he waits for you to come sit beside him again, and he opens it, carefully tearing the red and green paper with a grin on his face.

he opens the box, revealing a small piece of paper. he looks back at you. “baby? what’s this?”

your cheeks heat up as you begin to explain, suddenly feeling shy about your gift. “well, i… i rented out the movie theater we went to on our first date, and i thought it would be fun to, just… spend the day there, i don’t know.” you trail off, looking down at your hands, until seokmin takes them in his own.

when you look back up at him, his smile is so wide, it almost looks like it hurts. “i love it,” he beams, his voice breaking a little. “that’s so thoughtful, honey. i really love it.”

he leans forward to squeeze you in a hug, and you can’t help but smile, too.

“this is the best christmas ever,” he sighs into your neck, holding you tightly against him. “love you so much.”

he sits back, pulling you onto his lap facing him. “do you know where i got the ring from?” he asks suddenly, locking his hands behind your lower back.

you look at him. “um, kay? it says it on the box.”

he grins. “and?”

you frown in confusion. “and… what?”

the tips of his ears turn pink. “y’know, their slogan? ‘every kiss begins with kay’? from the commercials?”

you blink at him.

he groans, rolling his head back. “can i just kiss you now, please?”

you giggle, throwing your arms around his neck and rubbing your nose against his. “fine.”

and just as he’s about to, his pocket vibrates, and he pulls out his phone.

“my… boss?” he says, confused, showing you the screen.

you whine, resting your chin on his shoulder. “what does he want that can’t wait? it’s one in the morning on christmas eve– well, technically christmas morning, now.”

he looks at you with pleading eyes, and you sigh. “you can answer it. quickly, though, please?”

he presses a kiss to your cheek in thanks before sliding the button to accept the call, holding the phone up to his other ear. “hello?”

you can’t hear what’s being said on the other line, so you close your eyes, worn out from the night’s big surprises. you have a lot to do tomorrow—today—and you’ll need sleep if you want to spend the whole day with him like you want to.

seokmin sits up suddenly, startling you. you lean back, looking at him, wordlessly asking if something’s wrong. but he’s beaming, his smile so bright you’d think he’d just been told he won the lottery, and you crease your eyebrows in confusion.

he stays on the phone for another minute, listening intently. “thank you so much. merry christmas,” he says finally, then hangs up, tossing his phone to the other end of the couch.

“what? what is it?” you ask, still concerned despite his giddy expression.

he settles back, his hands sliding to your waist and holding you up on his lap. “i just got some news,” he says, and you know he’s being vague on purpose to draw out the suspense.

you pout. “well, are you gonna tell me, or not!”

he giggles, unable to hold it back any longer. “i got the promotion!” he yells.

your mouth falls open. “what promotion?” you ask, tentative.

“i didn’t wanna say anything unless i was sure, but there’s been a position available at the company, and they wanted to hire someone from within,” he says excitedly. “it wasn’t guaranteed that i’d get it, but i did! i got the promotion!”

“aw, seok! i’m so proud of you, baby,” you smile, leaning down to kiss him.

he pulls away after a second, and you look at him expectantly. “i have more news,” he says with a grin.

“and?”

“and… it comes with a big raise, so we’ll finally be able to afford a place together,” he beams, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

you bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling, and feel your eyes well up with tears, spilling down your cheeks.

he calls your name softly, and you look up at him. “are you… what do you think?” he asks, his big eyes searching your watery ones.

“i– i’m just so happy,” you stammer, leaning down to hug him again. “i love you so much. this is more than i could’ve ever asked for.” you bury your face in his neck, letting your tears of joy fall onto his sweater.

“merry christmas, honey.”

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[pommpuriinn]

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧﹐txt﹕🎤﹒ʬʬ DEJA VU ERA HIGHLIGHTS

𐙚 synopsis 𐙚 - little Joohyung highlights that stuck with moas during the promotion period of ‘Deja Vu’ along with Joohyung’s styling during the promotions.

𐙚 author’s note 𐙚 - I plan on writing for the little fan meetings they have after music banks and fansigns/fancalls. Hope you enjoy :3

𐙚 Deja Vu 𐙚

𐙚 I’ll See You There Tomorrow 𐙚

✧ let’s start with some negative things that happened during the promotion period. The number one thing was that knetizens didn’t like how much skin Joohyung was showing with all of her stage outfits

✧ Joohyung didn’t have a safety undergarment for her chest area. Knetizens were saying how inappropriate it was and that her stylist “should’ve known better”. Joohyung shut those knetizens up by posting many photos of herself in those “revealing” outfits with the caption ‘I love being me🥰’

✧ another controversy was Joohyung’s tattoos and how their staff didn’t cover them up with tape. As everyone knows when idols have tattoos and they go on music shows they have to cover them up with body tape, but for Joohyung she didn’t want to and the staff just let it slide plus the music bank staff didn’t mind it either

✧ how many lines Joohyung got for txt’s title track ‘Deja Vu’. Even though Joohyung wrote the song and mostly produced the song she got one second lines, only ad-lids, and the only time you fully hear Joohyung’s line is towards the end of the song. This cause a division online with some moas. One side was mad at bighit for only giving their genius idol so little lines for the title track even though she created the masterpiece. The another side was fine with the little lines because Joohyung gets the dance break and the iconic kick

✧ the final thing is Joohyung got no solo variety show appearances. Throughout all of txt’s career Joohyung hasn’t gotten any solo variety shows appearances. This is also a debate if Joohyung even wants to go by herself or just rather stick with going with her members instead

✧ aside from all the negativity there was a lot of good things that happened during the promotional time. Even thought some people didn’t like the styling for dumb reasons many actually really liked all of Joohyung’s outfits. Many started recreating and posing tiktoks about getting the ‘Joohyung look’

✧ Joohyung’s stylist wasn’t the only one getting praise Joohyung’s makeup artist was getting praise for using gems and glitter as tears (ex: 1, 2, 3) since the song is a more emotional and the makeup artist want to emulate pretty tears in her art

✧ Joohyung’s stage presence and acting during every single performance shocked everyone. Joohyung expressed the sad emotions of the song beautifully that it even got the locals talking about how they never seen someone acting so well, while singing and dancing not looking tried or missing a beat. Because of all the big twitter accounts talking about Joohyung and sharing her fancams along with trending, Hybe did get some exciting emails from movie/shows production teams

✧ speaking of singing, Joohyung vocals were a big topic online. Joohyung was praised for her raw vocals even though she had little lines she made sure to sing them along with her ad-lids. Moas that went in person to the music shows said that ‘Joohyung unnie was always louder than the back track!’. During the encore stages Joohyung would give extra ad-lids and little highs notes that were considered but not made into the final production of ‘Deja Vu’

✧ another viral moment while performing their title track was towards the end of the inkigayo stage after the dance break/kick Joohyung was able to shed a tear while singing passionately. The camera man deserves a rise because he zoomed in just in time to capture the viral moment. Online many moas in ‘awe’ and rightfully so bragging about their idol, and the other moas were making jokes;

‘ why is she singing like she just got divorced and got separated from her kids😭’

‘ did members not want to cuddle backstage 💀’

‘ she just wiped her tear, smiled, and wave then just walked off stage like nothing happened she was like 😢😐🤗🚶🏻‍♀️’

✧ the two members who constantly don’t think they’re cute have been proved wrong again. Both Joohyung and Taehyun had sharp eyes during their end pose, and once the staff yelled ‘cut’ their eyes instantly went big and sparkling. Once again proving everyone right, they are the cutest

✧ Joohyung performing’ISYTT’ just causing heart attacks because of her mischievous and flirty actions towards the camera

✧ articles having the headlines saying ‘Gen Z ‘it’ siblings strike again with a new trend’ the article was talking about how Yeonjun and Joohyung kept on showing the top of underwear (ex) especially in the ‘ISYTT’ performances

✧ during this era Joohyung was more on the quiet side, but she was very unintentionally cute. There was many clips of Joohyung just being in her own world zoning out, members taking care of her, and treating her like the maknae 





[ladythornofrivia]

popsicle

pair: sanzu x reader

warnings: cheating, sanzu being naughty, and toxic husband with profanity, secret affair, mentions of depression, mentions of insecurities, sanzu being h*rny and flirty, sanzu being a douchebag, but still lovable in his own way.

a/n: sorry being inactive. i’ve been obsessed with Getou, hence I changed my username. oh yes, i also have an ao3 account, yay!

• On a hot summer day, you stayed at the house, waiting for your husband to come home. It happens quite often when you’re bored and repressed by the expectations of what it means to be a good wife. Cleaning, pampering, and the means of being a “tidy wife”.

• Your husband didn’t come home that night. The food you prepared went into the fridge or at the trash bin, sometimes you ate the whole meal to a point where a husband shames your big appetite. Kept bragging about how the girls in porn magazines have much better figure and features. You couldn’t help but to feel down. You know that in your heart the girls in magazines have more plastic than the ocean combine.

• One morning, you overheard him talking in his sleep, moaning, even. You didn’t want the noise so you slept on the couch. Though when you went to the bathroom, you overheard your husband talking, awake. You have no clue to who he was talking to, but his expression said otherwise. And it wasn’t promotion.

• The next morning, your husband was nowhere to be found. And feeling a little lonely, the urge to touch yourself from the tightness in your pajama pants, so you quickly went onto the couch, took off your clothes, and tried to find a pornographic video you could find on your phone. From there, you stumbled across the video, also in the couch, you find yourself watching a gorgeous man with long pink hair and teal eyes under the long white lashes, brutally pounding his dick inside the girl’s cunt. With a girl’s whiny moans, it was almost a deal breaker, but with a gorgeous man before your eyes, he winked at the camera and sped up his thrusts against her. You finger coated with cum, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You wanted to be in the same position as the girl on the video.

• And with that, you found yourself lucky with enough time in the house, wanting to be seen on the internet. At first you posted videos and selfies on the account, taking three shots until finding a perfect photo, but decided to upload all of them together. Then you decided to become as a part-time cam girl. Doing a first video of masturbation was awkward at first. So you took a shower and put a lot of skincare to make an effort of looking flawless on screen first. The moment the awkward tension has gone down, you sat down, without undergarments, with your spread legs, your fingers dipped down into the hole as your breasts bounced for every movement shifted. Coming down from a high climax was real accomplishment, thus planning to have more brand new lingerie to tease the audience.

• The next morning, your account on the cam website blown up. Your cam girl views went viral through pornographic websites, your figure is and your skin are lustrous and flawless. Even on the tweets, you have gone viral—your body has gone viral. Many likes and many comments. And all the pornstars wanted to collab with you. Most of all, what got your attention is when Sanzu subtweeted your videos and commented on every single pictures you posted, praising you with dirtiest comments.

• Everything is perfect. Except the efforts of keeping secrecy from your husband, living as a double life will be impossible, unless blurting out that you’re making good money from the elicit websites. With your husband ignoring your existence, it should be easy, despite being hurtful by his intentions. At night, you waited for him to fall asleep to do your naughty sessions online. More views had gone up, and with your social media accounts, pornstars have bombarded you with not so flirting and thirsting. You ignored all of them except for the gorgeous man with pink hair who goes by the name of Sanzu. Sanzu is the most popular pornstar/camboy. Although you’ve seen him from the screen, you wanted to know what he sounds like.

•Even in your dreams, you dreamt of him fucking you in you and your husband’s bed. Everything were hopes and dreams, but then days changed when your friend decides to set up a group hangout, you and your friends hung out at the department store to wear for the karaoke. Accidentally bumping against a tall frame, you apologized immediately, you looked up and saw tall men in suits. When one was about to grip on your shirt, the other man stepped in and told the other guy to back off. You immediately noticed the long pink hair, but you have never seen a gorgeous face with diamond-shaped scars. Maybe you’ve mistaken the man for Sanzu. Maybe he isn’t Sanzu. He looks like him, but he looks terrifying.

• Though you weren’t the only one checking him out. Sanzu checked you out with a long teasing glimpse and gave a smirk. For a while it’s been awkward full of groups, but eventually you and Sanzu hit it off, hanging out and singing in the karaoke. Sanzu wanted to be alone with you; he figured out who you are based on your birthmark on your neck; your hair style tucked at the backside. He couldn’t help but to flirt with you more as you separated your ways from the group. Luckily your husband wasn’t home.

• Sanzu bought two popsicles—both strawberry flavored—a perfect way to savor the sweet, hot summer. As you relished the taste of popsicle, Sanzu couldn’t help but noticed your tongue swirling on the tip, then trailed down at the length. When he cleared his throat, you looked up at him, realizing what you’ve done, thus behaving like a good girl.

• You and Sanzu talked until he said, “I know who you are. I did my research after my own live stream. You’re (y/n), the girl with good grades and reputation, never drink or do drugs, never had sex, even with your husband. Your husband won’t be home for a while; he’s out with his mistress. He always leaves early and arrives here later at night.”

• You staggered, licking your lips as you stare at Sanzu drinking and eating the sight of him like a popsicle. “How did you know?”

• Sanzu chuckled, trailing his fingers onto your skin. “I know my ways of knowing everybody. You’re aware of the organization that controls the area you’re living in right now. I kill traitors and cheaters alike. Sanzu, second commander in Bonten, to King Mikey.”

• You figured it was Bonten, the infamous group who tries to patrol every street and buildings. Living in a shelter is too much of getting your naïveté to grow.

• “Open yourself up to me, and I can show you ways of what it means to have a man inside you,” he coerced, lifting your leg inch by inch.

• With a comply, you let Sanzu ripped its way into you with his cock, rocking his hips as your couch creaked. Moaning, your arms strapped around his muscled body, breathing and moaning into his ears. Sanzu chuckled, kissing your neckline. “Hold onto me, kitty. It’s going to be a bumpy ride. Just for a record, I don’t have condom with me.”

• His efforts on making you feel satisfied, your needs of pleasure came soon to an end, but you don’t want it to end. Sanzu felt sadness in you, so he gave you his phone number. But since you don’t have a smartphone—restricted by your husband, he gave you his spare phone, and has another one in his other pocket. And within days, you and Sanzu talked, as if you guys have known each other for a long time. Each time you texted Sanzu, you feel elated as if single. But feeling guilty each time your husband’s footsteps came. Hiding your double life and a phone from Sanzu wasn’t easy. Your husband wanted to spend time with you, but you declined and said you’re heading out for shopping groceries and clothes, when all you did was fucking Sanzu in his penthouse.

• After months on spending each other’s company, you came back into your house and your husband beaten you almost to death, saying how unreliable and liar you are. The next day, you couldn’t face Sanzu, but Sanzu figured out your husband beaten you up to a point he ordered his men to kidnap your husband and kill him without remorse. After that, for a while you haven’t seen your husband, not that you care, of course, and Sanzu eventually came into your place, notifying you of your husband’s passing. You knew your husband’s dead, and delved into Sanzu’s arms, crying.

•Kissing at the top of your hair, Sanzu said, “You should move in with me. Pack your most valuable things and we can fuck each other as long as we like. I can treat you better than that man. You’re special to me, (y/n). And I don’t ever plan on letting you go. I’ve seen the way you lick the popsicle, and I can’t help but feel a little jealous.” Thus he unveiled his mask, and kissed onto your lips, with a following of slow and sensual fucking—no cameras and live stream involved. Your life is in content with Sanzu, and with Sanzu, your freedom has been granted more than ever.

• “Get down on your knees,” he said, gripping your hair softly. “I want you to lick me like a popsicle.”

[crackedpumpkin]

Bad News || 09 ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“I thought we were here to buy Tadashi’s birthday gift.” Hiro crosses his arms, staring unamusedly as you walk through the aisles of a clothes store. You’d been here for an hour, and are no closer to finding a gift for Tadashi.

“Look, just get him a cap!” He groans, wanting nothing more than to get out and go to the cinema already. You glare at him, gesturing to the wall filled with caps of different designs. 

“Which one?” He stares at it for a solid moment, pointing at a dark blue cap with the design of a well-known cartoon character on the front. You blink. “You’re joking.”

“I am,” he admits in defeat. 

“You’re supposed to help me, not sabotage me,” You point out. He groans again, sliding his hand down his face. “Y’know what, maybe I should get him something else.” Finally walking out of the store, Hiro makes a big show of breathing in deeply, spreading his arms and welcoming the outside.

“You drama queen.” You snort, shoving him slightly. He chuckles, eyes lighting up when he spots a tech store. Before he even asks, you sigh, giving in with a nod. You watch the smile on his face grow bigger with each step, holding in his excitement when he sees the latest tablet or iPhone. 

He’s like a kid looking at new toys. You watch him scan each aisle with excitement, grinning as you begin to wander around by yourself. Each section is something completely different, ranging from smartphone accessories to camera parts. You spot a few cameras on display, piquing your interest when you see people trying them out. 

“Interested?” The unexpected voice makes you flinch, expecting to see a sneaky salesperson trying to promote their products to earn a commission. Instead, your eyes widen as you register a smug Noah standing in front of you. 

“Wha- What’re you doing here?” He ruffles the top of your head with a chuckle. “I thought you might have a shift today at the cafe.”

“Oh, that?” he hums. “I quit.” 

“Since when??” He picks up a random camera and hands it to you. Shock doesn’t fully describe how you feel at the sudden news. He’d been working at the cafe for a couple of years, practically the next overall manager if not for the bias your previous boss had against him. You’d thought he’d still stay there even after you were fired, but to hear that he quit is a whole other level. 

“It’s fine,” he shrugs, hands in his pockets as he watches you scroll through the camera settings. You hold it up and snap a photo of him, scrutinising how the picture turned out. “I have another job lined up already - I’m starting next month as a personal trainer.”

Makes sense. He’d always been the barista who attracted many customers to the cafe, many girls and older women alike coming by to buy a coffee (and mainly watch him at work). His skin is as smooth as a baby’s butt, and he often gave you tips on your skincare. 

The picture turns out fine, though you’re not entirely sold on the camera. You pick up another model, snapping another picture with Noah reflexively holding up a peace sign. “Sounds like you’re making more than before.” You note, taking in the new watch on his wrist and squeaky clean sneakers.

“Yeah, I’ll treat you to a meal sometime. Li misses you, y’know.” The mention of his girlfriend makes you smile, already anticipating meeting her again to gossip about anything and everything. She’s like an older sister to you. 

“Can’t wait,” You try yet another camera model, satisfied with the settings and taking another photo of Noah as your test subject. One look at the price, however, makes you wince, setting it back down.

“Hey.” Hiro approaches the both of you, a bag in hand after having purchased something. “Who’s this?” He asks, moving to stand next to you. His shoulders are slightly in front of yours, eyes narrowed as he tries to figure out if Noah’s a creep or not. 

“Hiro, Noah. Noah, Hiro.” You introduce them to each other. His shoulders relax when he realises who this is, a small smile on his lips as he returns Noah’s outstretched fist bump. 

“What’s up kid?” Noah greets you with a casual nod, glancing between the both of you with a glint in his eye. Oh no. You knew exactly what that meant. “Sorry if I interrupted your…outing.”

“We’re here to get his older brother a birthday gift,” You explain, though Noah’s smirk suggests he thinks otherwise. 

“And watch Iron Man,” Hiro reminds you of your promise. Noah’s smirk grows with every word, warmth creeping up your neck and into your cheeks. “Actually, why not just ask him what he wants?” 

Before you can stop him, Hiro’s already texting Tadashi about it, the latter instantly replying. He reads the message, rolling his eyes. “Get this, he wants a photobooth strip of us both having fun. What is he, old?”

“Oh no, too bad there’s no photo booths around…” You thought you pulled off your fake disappointment, pressing your lips together sheepishly when Noah raised a brow. 

Hiro shrugs. “I’d say no, but he just cashed in the coupon of servitude I gave him last year.” 

“Actually,” Noah interrupts, holding up a finger, “there’s a photo booth right next to the cinema. They just put it there yesterday, and there are loads of different designs and props. Have fun, kids!” 

He walks away with a not-so-subtle wink directed at you. Luckily, Hiro doesn’t seem to notice, distracted by the cameras you were trying out earlier. “Well, looks like you have his gift settled. Let’s go!” 

Saying goodbye to Noah, the both of you head to the cinema and buy the tickets first, Hiro expressing unbridled joy upon getting his hands on the big screen ones. You pay for the tickets, and he pays for the snacks to be collected later. True to Noah’s words, the photobooth is right next to the ticket counter. 

It’s surprisingly uncrowded, with multiple rooms inside the store. “We gotta get some props, meet up at room 5?” You ask, already scrounging through the shelves of headbands and sunglasses. You grab a pair of hot pink heart-framed sunglasses, along with a headband with the Super Mario symbol on it. 

On the way to the booth, you spot a few more props, pursing your lips before a particular one catches your eye. Grinning, you grab it off the hook and meet Hiro whose arms are filled with more props. 

“Looks like we have to decide on four.” He taps the touchscreen, looking through the various options before settling on 4 photos on 2 strips. You dump your stuff into a basket on the floor, grabbing the remote and gesturing for him to hurry up. 

The sunglasses are already perched on your nose, and it seemed like Hiro had a similar idea with his own squiggly-framed sunglasses. He laughs upon seeing you. Using your thumb and index finger to slide your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, you look at him from under your lashes with a wink. 

The click of the camera surprises you both, not realising that the timer has already run out. Glancing at the screen, the camera caught your jokingly flirtatious wink and the flush on his cheeks. “You look so dumb,” You giggle, hurriedly preparing for another picture. 

He hands you a toy gun and a clip-on tie, adjusting his own and getting into position with his toy gun pointed at you. You raise your hands in surrender, both of you posing as a secret agent catching a bad guy.

The next pose required a little more finesse, however, when you hold up a toy camera and instruct him to do his best pose. You almost collapse from laughing when you see the result on the screen, his lips pursed into a pout with the back of his hand on his forehead, captured mid-swoon.

“Not bad,” He says in amusement, grabbing one last prop. A clipboard is in his hands. You slide the Super Mario headband on his head, adjusting his hair so that the symbol can be seen clearly. 

God, his fluffy hair can be both gorgeous and annoying. You move a few strands out of the way before letting out a satisfied hum. Your gaze drops down to his, catching a flicker of amusement in his brown eyes. They soften upon noticing you pause, and you subconsciously suck a sharp breath between your teeth. 

The countdown timer for the last five seconds beeps, successfully snapping you out of whatever was between you both at that moment, taking a step back and clear your throat. You slide on the lab coat you’d grabbed earlier, adjusting the collar and facing him with a shy smile. 

Clipboard in hand, he holds up an imaginary pen. Once your eyes meet, however, a silence falls over you both. You look away with flushed cheeks, holding up a peace sign as the camera clicks the last picture.

“Looks like we’re done,” Hiro comments. The screen begins to fill with the photos taken, the both of you selecting 2 each. You’d chosen one without any pops, just the both of you smiling cheesily at the camera while Hiro does bunny ears behind your head. Another is the secret agent pose. 

The ones he chose were a little different, with one being the swooning pose, while the last is of him waving a wand over your head as you look at him grumpily. They’re perfect. Tadashi better like them, especially after all the hard work you’d put in. Another picture captures your eyes though, an unselected one that had gone unnoticed.

“What about that photo?” It’s suddenly blocked by his hand hovering over it. You look at him, unimpressed by the awkward smile on his face. “Really? Very mature Hamada. C’mon, lemme see how bad you look in it.”

“No- I mean, we already have four photos. Whoops!” He quickly slams a finger against the screen, proceeding to the next page where you can edit the photos with stickers and drawings. However, you’ve already seen the picture, realising that he’d been looking at you when the camera took the photo. His eyes were soft, a small smile on his lips while his hands were held up in a peace sign.

Cute.

You suppress a smile, clearing your throat and leaning back with a shrug. “Looks like we’ll just have to go with these four then.” He breathes out a relieved sigh, trying to brush off his earlier actions as nothing. You, however, notice his flushed ears and stuttered breaths. 

You’re no better. Your cheeks feel like they’re on fire, distracting yourself by scrolling through the multitude of stickers before landing on one. Your lips curl into a mischievous grin, exchanging a knowing glance with Hiro before selecting the sticker. “You think he’d laugh at it?”

“It’s hard not to when there’s a Mr. Pringles moustache on each of our faces.”

You nod solemnly. He has a point. All the more reason to put the stickers. Placing down the pen with a satisfied smile, you let Hiro choose the frames for it. The photo strips are only fifteen dollars for three strips, so you pay for three instead of just two. One for Tadashi, one for you, and…

Hiro stares at the last photo strip you hold out to him, raising a brow. “Isn’t this supposed to be Tadashi’s gift?” He’d gone to return the props, giving you the time to mull over how many to purchase.

“There was a promotion for it, so I just got three. Look, if you don’t want it-” You’re about to withdraw your hand when he coughs, interrupting you. He grabs the photo strip, nonchalantly shoving it into his pocket. 

“Who said I didn’t want it?” He mutters though you notice that he’s being careful about how he put the photostrip in his pocket. “Besides, this’ll be a souvenir to mark the occasion of Iron Man.”

You suppress a grin. “You’re right.”

— — — — —

@urfavarab @dee-zbignuts @frogindisguise @mangodamochiii @stars4won @whoisgami @nayleannn @millerworld @bodieohbo @1intrusivethoughts1 @randobeetlehouse @riritvt @louvredea

[withacapitalp]

Countdown Pt 2

Follow up to this thing I wrote yesterday

People always acted funny when they saw his timer. They usually reacted in two ways- either they tried to pretend that they didn’t see it, or they said how sorry they were. 

That’s not enough time. 

Oh I wish you had more time. 

Only a few days? I’m sorry honey. 

But Steve had never been upset about it. Sure, he only had less than a week with his soulmate, but that only meant that their time was more treasured. They understood that they had to make every second count. 

Wasn’t that a good thing? 

“You’ll understand someday, Steven,” His mother had said quietly into her wine glass one night when it was just the two of them at home. She was sitting on the couch, flipping through their photo album idly, holding Steve hostage with stories about how good things used to be. How in love his parents were, once upon a time. How happy they used to be before the job, before the promotion, before the big house in Loch Nora. 

(They really mean before they had him. Not that either of his parents will ever admit that) 

“You’ll understand,” She repeated in a whisper, taking another long sip. 

“What will I understand?” Steve replied. Usually he tried to stay as still and silent as possible on nights like these, did his best to pretend like he didn’t exist, waiting for her to finally wave a hand and release him to his room. But this time he didn’t get it. 

“You’ll understand that this? This is a curse,” She spat out, holding up her right arm and showing him her timer. All zeroes. His mother’s soulmate had died when he was ten, but her timer had counted down. She had met him at some point in her life though. She knew him, but she hadn’t lived a life with him. Whoever he was, he had died alone.  

Steve had always wondered about that, always wanted to ask. If she knew who her soulmate was, why not be with them? If she had found that person, why not make every second count? 

“It’s a curse,” His mother had said, continuing when Steve didn’t say anything in response, finishing what was left in her glass, “Especially yours. I remember the first time I saw your timer. It was right after you were born. I was holding you against me, you were so little then, so sweet, and I looked down, and I saw it. Five days. What kind of God would only give my baby five days? Not a good one,”

Steve wasn’t exactly sure what kind of God was out there. If he was being fully honest, he wasn’t sure he believed in God at all. 

He believed….in the universe. He believed in something linking them all, something that knew them and wanted them to find the person that completed their lives. The Universe knew that Steve and his soulmate were strong enough to handle five days, four hours, and twenty two minutes. That unnamed unexplained universe knew that they would know what to do with that time. 

Steve had plans for his five days, four hours, and twenty two minutes. 

When he found that person, the first thing he was going to do was hold them for at least five of those minutes. Steve loved hugs, and his parents hated them, but his soulmate would love them too. He knew that for sure. 

So a five minute hug, and then he’d ask where they wanted to go. The two of them would travel to wherever his soulmate wanted. Steve had the money, he’d been saving every single birthday and Christmas check he had gotten since he was nine. By now, it was more than enough for two tickets to anywhere in the world. 

They would spend the whole plane ride talking and getting to know each other. They would laugh, probably a little too loudly, and annoy everyone else around them with how infatuated they were with each other. 

Maybe they’d go to Paris. Stroll through the city, eat pastries, stuff like that. Maybe they would end up in some remote part of the world where it felt like they were the only two people on the planet.

Maybe they’d just stay in Hawkins. Hole up in his house, listen to records, swim in the pool, or lie in bed all day. 

A hug, possibly a trip, and after that it was up to his soulmate. Steve wasn’t going to monopolize their five days with just his ideas. He had a bunch of suggestions if they didn’t know what they wanted, but those were the only two things he really cared about. 

He didn’t hug his soulmate when they finally laid eyes on each other. Steve didn’t even realize his timer had started counting down. 

He was too busy thinking about the broken bottle being held against his neck. 

By the time he and Eddie both realized that their timers had started, they were already in the thick of things. Steve had seen it while Nancy was wrapping her sweater around his waist to try and stem some of the blood coming gushing out of him from the bat bites. He had put both hands in his hair just to try and give himself some other pain to ground with, and his timer caught his eye. 

It was already on three days. 

He had only met one new person in the last two days. One new person who always hid his timer under a leather cuff around his wrist. 

Steve did go through with his plans, but it was a funhouse mirror version of them, twisted and wrong. 

They did hug, but it wasn’t something soft or intimate. Eddie had woken Steve up from a nightmare on their second to last day, and Steve had laid in his arms shaking for two of their final forty eight hours. 

They did go on a trip of sorts, if stopping the apocalypse in an alternate dimension counted as a trip. They went, but they didn’t stay together. 

God, if Steve had a chance to do it all over again, he never would have let Eddie out of his sight. 

There was no avoiding fate, no changing what The Universe had planned. Steve has always been aware of that. He’s known that as fact his entire life. But still. Maybe things would have gone the way they were supposed to if they had been together. 

Because it was supposed to be him that died. 

His entire life he had known it was going to be him. 

Steve has imagined it a thousand different ways. A random heart attack, or a freak accident, maybe even saving his soulmate’s life somehow. He had never even thought to consider it might be his soulmate saving him instead. 

It was perfect. Dustin and Eddie would be far away from the danger, and Robin and Nancy were going to be just fine. Steve had no idea when it was coming, but it was going to happen in this final fight. They would win and he would have to do something stupid to make sure they did. Something off plan that would end up killing him. 

Except, he didn’t do anything that wasn’t in the plan. 

It went off without a hitch. Well, there was a pretty scary moment where there had been vines around his neck choking him, but the rest had gone exactly as they wanted it too. He and Robin had torched the monster, and then Nancy shot him in the head. 

Vecna was dead, burning to ash on the floor in front of them. They did it. They actually fucking did it. 

The elation of that was unlike anything Steve had ever experienced. The bone deep relief of knowing everyone he loved was finally safe, that this was finally over. That he had somehow lived to get to see it all. 

He had lived. 

He…..he was still alive. 

Steve hadn’t even thought to look down at his timer. He had been so busy just reacting, being in the moment of the fight. The fight was over. They had won. Everyone was safe now. 

Steve was still alive. 

He looked at his timer. All zeroes. 

How long had it been all zeroes? 

Steve took an experimental breath, and then another. Still breathing. Still alive. He looked down at his wrist. Still all zeroes. It was like he was looking at a puzzle with only one piece left, holding that last piece in his hand, but unable to make it fit for some reason. There was just something that was so wrong. 

There were two options when it came to Timers. You died, and your timer vanished, or your timer hit zero, and your soulmate died. There were two options. 

Steve had just never considered the other one. 

And by the time he ran out of the Creel House, it was already too late. Steve knew that. He was running anyway. He wouldn’t believe it until he saw Eddie for himself. His mother’s voice filled his ears the entire time. 

“You’ll understand that this? This is a curse,” 

Steve had promised himself he would never think about his timer that way. Promised that he would never be like his mother. 

But she might have been right about this. 

[ludmilachaibemachado]

June 23rd 1968 - Paul in L.A on "Apple promotion duties"

Paul went to New York on the 20th June, then onto Los Angeles on the 21st June. Ostensibly this was to promote the newly formed Apple Corps, however having arrived in New York, Paul tried to contact Linda (they'd met at the Sgt Pepper Party the year before). He couldn't initially and so he and his party went on to Los Angeles. (According to Tony Bramwell Paul had kept Linda's phone number in his wallet and was disappointed when he couldn't get in touch with her.

However, when Linda realised she'd missed Paul, she took the next plane she could to Los Angeles to catch up with him, arriving on the 22nd June (by which time Paul wasn't short of other female companionship).

"Relieved at how well it [a conference with Capitol Records which Paul had attended that morning] had gone we were ready to return to the hotel and leap into the swimming pool again. When we went into the bungalow to change, followed by the trail of girls, we were rather surprised to find Linda sitting there radiantly, totally spaced out, waiting for Paul. She had a joint in one hand and a beatific smile on her face. Paul immediately detached himselt from the circus surrounding him and took Linda aside. As I looked across the room, I suddenly saw something happen. Right before my eyes, they fell in love. It was like the thunderbolt that Sicilians speak of, the coup-de-foudre that the French speak of in hushed tones, that once-in-a-lifetime feeling.

Paul was struck almost dumb as he and Linda gazed at each other."

I'm not sure if it was quite true love at this point (Paul wasn't making any overtures about leaving Jane for Linda), but it was surely true lust. It appears Paul jilted any other girl he had around him to spend time with Linda (who included Peggy Lipton, who Paul had had a thing with previous. They spent the rest of Paul's visit together, going to the Whisky A-Go-Go, taking boat trips and spending some time in the room

Via Beatles and Cavern Club Photos FB

[sloanerisette]

Fic For Odaiba Day 2024: You Need A Promotion, I Want A Shake Up, So Let's Get Married!

Hello everyone! Happy Odaiba Day! 25 years of Digimon! It's incredible to think about! I'm so happy I've gotten back into this show and this fandom because it's been so wonderful!

I know it's not Odaiba Day in America but it IS Odaiba Day in Japan so I'm going to post the FIRST of my two fics I'm osting for Odaiba Day!

Title: You Need A Promotion, I Want A Shake Up, So Let's Get Married! Summary: A newly 30 Mimi Tachikawa has it all: great friends, her dream career, and tons of fans, but she's missing one thing: a relationship she isn't allowed to have because of an overbearing manager.

Jou Kido is living a simple life: he goes to work at his father's hospital, he comes home, he goes to sleep and does it again. However, pressure from his father has him needing to live up to his lofty expectations to one day secure a promotion that will make all of the work he's done in his life worth it.

When the two of them get in touch after so many years and learn of each other's struggles, they decide on the obvious solution: pretend they're married. Big thanks to Camp Digimonth and zuz-senpai for all the support and excitement for this fic! I'm so happy to have this first chapter out and I hope you all enjoy! I'll post a blurb here under the read more, but you can view the fic on AO3 HERE!

Bright lights shined in her face, which a make up artist was currently patting foundation on. Mimi Tachikawa sat in a chair, curlers in her hair, phone held gingerly in her nicely manicured hands, and she tapped through it and looked through her contacts..

In three days it would be her thirtieth birthday, and she couldn’t be more excited. She was excited to reach a new milestone in her life— not that turning thirty was a particularly big one, anyways— and more than that, she was getting the finishing touches set up for her big birthday party. She rented out a fancy Italian restaurant at one of the nicest hotels in the area, one that had a beautiful view of the bay, and a bunch of her friends would be there to celebrate with her. Though the invites she sent out already were for fellow models who she worked with and became friends with since her late teens and early twenties, an old photo popping up on her phone reminded her of another group of friends she needed to invite. She tried to keep it small at first, but, well, she was Mimi! How could she keep an event like this small when she had so many friends? Especially friends.

And though she hadn’t had a chance to spend as much time with them as she wanted to for years, they were old friends and classmates who meant the world to her: Yagami Taichi, Ishida Yamato, Takenouchi Sora, Izumi Koushiro, Kido Jou, Takaishi Takeru, Yagami Hikari, Motomiya Daisuke, Inoue Miyako, Hida Iori, and Ichijouji Ken.

Twelve extra people was going to be a big ask considering she already had, what, twenty some other people going? But she couldn’t leave them out. It had been a long time since she sat down with most of them, but they were still all friends to some degree.

“Tachikawa-san? I need to apply your lipstick real quick,” the young woman who was doing her makeup told her. Mimi’s eyes flicked up to her and she smiled.

“Of course! What color?” she asked.

“It’s this,” the girl said, holding up a lipstick tube that was colored a beautiful, deep, rich burgundy.

“Oooh, that looks great! Go ahead!”

Mimi puckered her lips, and as the make-up artist started to apply the first coat, she glanced back down at her phone, adding each of them to a group chat. Once the makeup artist finished the first coat of lipstick, Mimi started rapidly firing off messages.

[Tachikawa Mimi]: Hey everyone! It’s Mimi!

[Tachikawa Mimi]: I’m having my 30th bday in a few days! And you’re all invited!

[Tachikawa Mimi]: Sorry for it being so late notice! I’ll send you all the time and location!

She sent the RSVP from her calendar, unable to stop from feeling giddy, practically bouncing in her seat. Her phone immediately buzzed like wild, and she couldn’t wait to check on it after the shoot.

The girl finished the second coat of lipstick, and Mimi looked at herself in the mirror as she then removed the curlers, letting her hair fall down in loose curls and waves.

“Is hair and makeup done?” a man’s voice called from the other end of the room.

“Yup!” the make up artist chirped back. Mimi popped up from the chair. She gave herself a once over, turning to one side, then the other, to appreciate the midnight blue evening gown she had on. Combined with the lipstick and her honey brown hair, she looked like a real stunner, if she said so herself.

“This looks great! You did an incredible job! Thank you so much,” she beamed, before heading over to the set.