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#modest high fashion
newestcool · 5 months
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Vivienne Westwood Black Leather Elevated Court Shoes from f/w 1993 rtw Creative Director Vivienne Westwood Newest Cool
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izzahsmemoir · 8 months
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yohji yamamoto autumn/winter '19 show —
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beckywiththegoodhijab · 8 months
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Back to school, bitches! Seriously, I hope your year is full of healthy boundaries and growth mindset and most importantly, joy!
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yoogoyvault · 2 years
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mididressobsessed · 1 year
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Source: jessakae.com
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femmefatalevibe · 10 months
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Hi babe !
Any links you could send me that demonstrate modest street wear ? It’s for a modelling shoot?
Hi love! This sounds fun. Glad to send you a personalized mood board/shopping link with an invoiced document if desired (anyone is glad to message me/email for this service!) and okay with messaging me directly. Otherwise, I would suggest brands like Minga London, Entire Studios, Alpha Industries, Our Legacy, and Amomento xx
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iznsfw · 2 months
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Reputation, Or Whatever That Is
IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 12 - Jang Wonyoung
IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut
7,063 words
Categories | daddy kink, brat!Wonyoung, squirting, blowjob, please appreciate Wonyoung's power bottom capabilities
Sorry, Yena is coming out sometime but I wanted to finally write something timely. JANG WONYOUNG WHAT THE FUCKKKKK.
Please bear with the religious metaphors, I have Catholic guilt and Wonyoung reignites it. I'm not sorry for all the other fucked up shit here I'm just ooga boogaing because what the FUCK
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It’s a little brighter today than usual. The sun surely knows what's about to happen upon its rising. It has no plans of telling you beforehand, so you’re forced to find out yourself. 
You open Instagram, which is insane because you never bother to look at pictures—much less edited, filtered ones made for meaningless impressions. Your blissful ignorance of online concepts is what would make your fans hate you if they had space in their deluded hearts to. Or maybe that’s your age talking.
But today, clicking on that app is what you do, and that already should have been a sign that something’s not right. The usual run of your universe has gone off course. Who could have made that so?
Coffee. The black stillness that’s pure of sweetness and sugar. That’s supposed to keep everything normal. You sip on it as you scroll through clickbait, fan accounts, edits—
Then you wish you never took that hot gulp at all.
Wonyoung. 
It’s all because of her. 
She stands there from behind your screen, silky hair tangled in those lithe long fingers. She’s looking at the camera like she wants whoever took the time to click on her profile to come over and fuck her right now. Man or woman, poor or rich—it doesn’t matter. What ought to matter though is the fact that she doesn’t have someone’s hands slipped around her waist and pulling her close.
You shouldn’t even be thinking about it.
Usually, she’s dressed in knitted pink coats and miniskirts; looking fashionable but modest, modest but unplain. That’s what everyone loves about Jang Wonyoung: she’s prim, sweet, and the daughter of the nation. 
Now, she’s the ideal girl to take right home and have your wicked way with. Yes, you’d feel guilty since she’s so young, just the little age of nineteen. Still, that doesn’t mean you’d have any regrets. She’s the kind of girl you can’t get away from. You’ll always come back for more.
You’d hate to be so upfront, but there’s no other way to interpret it. 
There’s that fucking denim bra hugging her tiny chest, stitched up so high that her abs are on full display. That little pinch of a waist curves so perfectly right up to her wide hips that invite and invite and invite—
Remember to exhale.
So, yeah. That’s how Wonyoung ruined your day, and you barely had your morning coffee.
A text message from your boss appears. You nearly miss it because of how you’re staring all ogle-eyed at the tempting girl on your screen. Before you even click it, you already know what you ought to do. 
hey, it reads, you need to—
-
—go to Wonyoung, and for such a scandalous photo, she’s chosen a remote but classy hotel only the biggest stars know of to shoot it. 
There’s no going back when you drive like you’re running from the law when you’ll break one if you pull the wrong stunt with her. Your throat’s coiled with an unreleased breath that won’t go away unless you see her. It’s like traveling with the promise of meeting a goddess, and although you’re not religious anymore, you wear very, very close to rediscovering faith.
The hotel is grand—clear marble floors and shining chandeliers—and it’s no surprise. Wonyoung wouldn’t have things any other way. You know that when she’s come to your office to complain about her outfits and brands. 
You go up to the desk with prepared evidence for what you’re going to say. “I’m an associate of your client miss Jang Wonyoung,” you say to the lady tapping away behind her computer, “and I’ve come to visit her.”
Associate? It’s more like mentor. You’re a veteran idol whose efforts inspire the rookies, therefore getting you the responsibility of looking out for Wonyoung. So, father figure, maybe? You wince at that.
She makes a polite sad look, still not removing her eyes from the screen. “I’m sorry, miss Jang doesn’t have—”
Slide your ID card on the counter.
She glances at it, stiffens, then looks up at you. There’s only one of you in the entire South Korea, and although the 1x1 traces back to when you were a bit more youthful, it’s not hard to put two and two together. 
She apologizes quickly and offers you an elevator ride exclusive for VVIPs. Smile. It’s been a while since your last return to music, but everyone knows you here. Everyone knows your power.
Wonyoung’s place is the first room on the twelfth floor, a flinching irony.
Knock. You rap your knuckles three times for good luck and charm, because you’ll need it with her. Jang Wonyoung is everything save an easy girl. You remember the many times she refused to give up a debate on how she’s managed, how she’s styled, how she’s treated. She wants things to go her way only.
“Wonyoung,” you call out. Fidget with the handle of the door that refuses to budge. “It’s me.”
Knock a little more. There’s no eye behind the peekhole or a soft “come in.” You receive only the unlocking of the furnished knob and a welcome that makes you wish this could go the way your morals would want it to go.
The door opens you to a gorgeous suite that’s the supreme of all room tiers. This is the kind that only the richest of the rich are able to attain. Big as a house with a soft carpeted ground, there’s a queen-sized bed before a wide window of the city. Picture frames commissioned by the wealthy hang from the painted walls. All for the fucking aesthetic.
Even you, a star who paved the way for the Korean entertainment industry itself, aren’t used to this type of wealth. 
Find her sitting on the ledge of the window frame. Wonyoung has her hands resting on the sides of the window frame. She doesn’t try at least a stance at nonchalance—no admiring stare at the beautiful view, no worried gaze at her clean fingernails. Her interest is you standing before her like you’re afraid to touch her. She might be right, but it’s not like you’d ever have it in you to admit that.
Even you, a man lusted over by girls and women all over the world, aren’t used to this kind of woman—the kind that eats away at you.
“Wonyoung.” Inside, you feel like the weakest man in the world.
She has this smarmy, confident smile on her perfect lips that tells you that it’s no surprise that you’ve come all the way here for her. No surprise at all. She expected it. Anticipated it, if you will.
Don’t mistake the coquettish float of her lashes for theatrics. No, Jang Wonyoung’s just naturally someone you’d want to fuck, no matter the politics of it. “Yes?”
Her voice is also just that pretty. That’s a large part of why it’s so hard to act professional in front of her when she’s your mentee. Even more so by the fact you’re someone she’s looked up to for the majority of her trainee years, which is already something that would make people’s brows lift.
“Wonyoung.” You let your shoulders rest. “Why are you still dressed like that?”
You know all the dialogue that passes around the general public. Oh, Jang Wonyoung’s so gorgeous! Jang Wonyoung’s even more beautiful in real life! You hate to say you can’t disagree. She’s deadlier in person; her body’s there before the glass like she’s waiting for someone to give in to temptation. That coy simper can ruin careers. It can ruin yours. 
To think it all could be gone because of a nineteen-year-old celebrity with a tiny waist and legs you’d love to have around your head.
“Why are you still dressed like someone from the eighties?” Wonyoung taps her chin, then grins. She’s figured it all out. “Oh wait, you are.”
You’re not taking insults from someone who’s below you in experienced years and power. Unluckily, she’s not taking advice from someone above her or below her.
The step you take towards her, towards the little star seated comfortably waiting for you, feels like a sin. 
“You’re incredibly unprofessional for a girl who’s worked her way up here,” you note. Cross your arms and give her a reprimanding look. 
Wonyoung’s immune to nasty looks, too. She’s been doing this since she was a child. If someone gave her a glare that read all too well of a career assassination, she’d wink the bullet away sweetly. “Hm,” she says contemplatively, “I don’t think you get to say that, honestly.”
Your laugh is blunt and sarcastic. Unbelievable. Wonyoung’s the kindest girl according to the people who work for her, so why is she a rebel in your hands? It doesn’t make sense.
“Look here, we—”
You take three steps closer to her. You’ll keep your little rituals and superstitions to keep yourself grounded. Without them, you’d go insane. 
Then without her having to do anything, she comes nearer, like a doomsday foretold by a ticking clock. Who knows? That clock could be a bomb, and that bomb would set off if you dare to touch her with a trembling fingertip. You’d leave the scene injured. And eventually, you’d die the moment they try to help you, because the deed’s been done.
“Oh, I’m looking, alright,” she chirps. She’s doing what you’ve held yourself back from doing: letting her eyes wander. “And I really, really like what I see.”
You’re someone several awards her senior, and you’re still quite intimidated by her at this moment. She’s so sweet yet so honest—she won’t make up a lie to make you feel better and she won’t hide the truth to make you comfortable. Refuse the truth her eyes locked on your crotch tell. You won’t accept it. It’s not right.
“I’m serious.” Approaching her makes you want to go on your knees and beg the lord for a little saving. Do it anyway. No one will rescue you. That’s what the industry taught you. “You’ve made it all the way up here. All by yourself. There’s gotta be something. What are you throwing it all away for?”
She laughs. Funniest thing she’s ever heard. “I’m not. How am I throwing it all away?” 
“Those posts,” you hiss. Doesn’t she get it?
Before she could ask you what you’re talking about, you whip out your phone. Click on the app icon. It instantly shows you the opened tab containing Wonyoung’s recent Instagram posts. Look at her, wrapped in nothing, not even those curtains—giving the camera bedroom eyes when girls her age shouldn’t be shooting them at anyone or be aware of how to. 
It’s already massed a million likes in under an hour. But you know what people who turn on anyone easily will say, and what they say could blot Wonyoung’s bright future by a lot. A million people around the world have caught sight of the abs she’s worked hard for, her toned back, and just about everything. A loud minority with frisky influences can sabotage her whole reputation.
“These posts,” you continue, shoving the screen into the poor girl’s face, “can take away everything you’ve worked for. All that fame, all that money, you can’t brag about them after this.”
Wonyoung looks on innocently. She stares at the screen with uninterested eyes, then switches them back on you. She looks like such a good girl in that second, with her hands seated beside her and that face so full of sparkling perfection. 
Deception can’t lead you away. 
“So, what’s it gonna be, Wonyoung?” 
Long silence that builds up your frustration. Finally, she clicks her tongue. Gives you a shrug of her thin shoulders.
“You liked it.”
“What?”
She points to your phone. “You liked my post,” she repeats. “It says so right there.”
What the hell is she talking about?
You look at the device you’re brandishing. For a while, you can’t find out what she’s referring to. You can never take a liking to her posts, although if they switch on something you didn’t know you can feel. You’d die before—
The heart. 
Wait.
The heart button below her set of pictures is filled with red.
Your heart pumps faster, a button pushed and played.
Fuck.
You turn to her and open your mouth. No sensible words come out. You swear you didn’t tap twice on her update or take it to a private setting. How did it happen? Worse, even if you say that to her, she’d take it as a pathetic lie.
Wonyoung giggles. It’s a tinkly sound that’s adorable, but you’ve long realized that being cute is not all there is to her. She rises slowly, sets her palms over your blazer-clad arms, and gives you an empathetic face. It’s so condescending that you want to dissolve. 
“I know what men like you are all about,” she tells you. She speaks with a sultriness that makes you feel warm and has bumps appearing in masses across your skin.
She smiles. Her eyes disappear into crescent moons and the dimple appears on her cheek. You’re done for. 
“Come on,” Wonyoung continues, squeezing your forearms. “Here you are, a big old man known for being a good singer or whatever. You’re so popular that the first thing that pops up on Naver is your face. Everything goes right for you, doesn’t it?”
You have no idea where she’s going with this. You’re afraid to even ask. Your teeth grit as her massages grow stronger, harder. 
Something else is, too.
“Then, of course, you see me.” 
Her hand. It’s curling around your wrist and bringing your fingers right around that flawless waist. She closes them there tightly.
It’s so bad that it’s good. You want to keep touching her, maybe slip your gliding fingers down her jeans. Oh, you shouldn’t. You can’t.
“You see me, and you get all hot and bothered. And what’s so funny is I’m not even doing anything. I’m just being myself, you know. Being young and rich… a beautiful girl…” Wonyoung is unbuttoning your shirt and you don’t realize it. “You can’t understand how I’m allowed to be this hot when you can’t even fuck me with a normal conscience.”
It’s all so wrong. You want to shake her by the shoulders and tell her to shut up. But if Medusa has her eyes, Wonyoung has her lips to turn you to stone. They keep opening elegantly to speak the filthiest, most fucked up shit, and you can’t deny anything.
Her eyes are creased with knowing pride. Her youth doesn’t rescue her from being so messed in the head already. Those thoughts don’t go along with such a pretty face.
“That’s why you like to get rough with me. You tell me to watch how I speak, watch how I act. You tell me to stop talking to you like you’re no one. You tell me that I’m such a little brat. But you only do that so you can get to control me. That’s your most fucked up dream, right?”
Her mouth is the tiniest space away from your chin. 
You’re another word away from saving yourself a spot in damnation.
Her finger that scratches a flaw on your blazer beckons you to the fire. “You’re not breaking the law or anything,” says Wonyoung, “so why not break me instead, daddy?”
That’s a deal sealed with a rough kiss.
You grab her cruelly and cover her lips with yours. They’re more amazing than you imagined, soft and competent with how she pushes in deeper, depriving herself of the air she needs the most just to get what she needs just a bit more:
You. 
Your tongues collide and clash, striving to get the most taste. She pulls your blazer off (because fuck professionalism, right?) while she kisses you with a hunger that’s equally mental and physical. It’s not like she’d bruise up if you didn’t get your hands on her yet it’s close to that. 
And, in your case, it’s not like you’re breaking any law. She’s nineteen, not anywhere under the limits you’d kill others and yourself for touching. Nonetheless, you’re much older—by age, she could be your daughter; by career, she’s your junior; by power, you’re much stronger. 
So, it’s still so wrong.
Can’t be when Wonyoung’s fist, firm around your cock, feels so right. 
Can’t be when she lands on the edge of the bed with her lips parted in delight as she watches your dick stiffen under her service. 
“There you go, daddy,” she coos, smirking. “Just get all hard for me, then you can stuff that big thing up in my pussy.”
Her thumb toys with your cockhead. You purse your lips to hold back a groan. Let go of it anyway when her smooth, closed palm rubs your sensitive flesh. She cups your balls lovingly before gliding her teasing fingertips under your length, right up to your tip. The girl knows how to do this; she’s good at more things other than MCing and performing.
Wonyoung hones this skill with firmer pumps, giving you the handjob of a lifetime. Her long fingers are just made to handle dick. Each stroke is perfection that holds and pulls and slides. You’re leaking so much already. 
So you turn into the driver of the hate train, the press that loves getting her bad angles and the articles that slash up her name:
Blame it all on her. 
Because you have here a girl, young and pretty and confident, so of course you have to scrape off your sins and nail them all on her, like a quivering hand to wood.
“You think you’re getting it that easily?” you say. Your moan is squeezed in your throat. “Baby, you’re not even close to it.”
Wonyoung smirks. It’s that self-assured, elegant smile that tells you that won’t work on her. She might be a rookie, but she knows how to play the game. 
She tightens her grip painfully. That’s what you get for trying to one her up. Do that to anyone, just not Jang Wonyoung. Your cry goes unheard as she yanks you rather than jerks you off. Spits on your head for good measure. Wonyoung’s eyes make a connection with your soul and says, Yep, that’s what I’d do if you weren’t my senior. In fact, I’d do it regardless. I’d choke and spit and leave you to die, because a pretty Samaritan is better than a good one.
“You’re really out of touch, daddy.” 
With Wonyoung slathering her drool all over you, you’re forced to teeter on the line between heaven and hell. It burns yet the offer of pleasure leaves you sated.
“You think I’m like the pretty girls out there? Other girls might have broken down and begged you to come back.” 
Your rod is subjected to a brief torrid kiss, then a smile as the wicked girl looks up at you.
She laughs, gives you this smile full of haught and womanly power. “Too bad I’m Jang Wonyoung,” she says, her last words before taking you in.
Yes, it’s too bad she’s Jang Wonyoung. It’s too bad she’s not the other girls who’d kneel for a burning touch of stars like you. She wouldn’t be holding control over you with the power of her lips if she had sanity in that pretty head.
Her plump tiers wrap around you and seize everything, encasing it in softness and wetness. Her tongue, the one she uses as a killer expression for her selfies and Instagram updates, kills you all the same with how it swirls around your skin and tastes you. Trying to pretend the girl wasn’t a pro at this like she is with everything else is useless. She’ll keep proving you wrong and overpowering you.
The whole of your shaft is sucked in, then, when her cute nose is pressed directly to your stomach, she lets out a hummed laugh. You shudder—as much as it makes you feel good, fear grips your muscles and makes them limp. She’s loving how wrong everything is, and you’re not sure if you like it.
Her jaw slacks, and then Wonyoung’s swallowing you like you’re water. Can’t be water when you’re this solid in her throat. You let out a shivering groan. You can picture the bulge in Wonyoung’s neck and it’s the last thing you’d count on turning you on, but they did tell you to expect the unexpected. 
Her saliva becomes excessive, resulting in some dribbles down her chin that help her work her mouth on you. Wonyoung’s drool sheens you entirely and she keeps adding more. On the occasion she pushes her face into your stomach, your cock gets wetter. She does, too. 
“Fuck.” Cussing won’t help deter the onslaught of pleasure. You’re unsalvageable. Say it anyway. You babble meaningless, slurred words and not one gets to Wonyoung. All she can hear is the sound of your quivering moans and her mouth taking you all in.
She becomes less of an idol, less of the elegant princess for the cameras, and instead a fleshlight. However, she reminds you that it isn’t that way with a fierce sneer that stays on at all times. She’s not your girl—she’s Jang Wonyoung, and you’re already incredibly lucky that she chose to go down on you.
All that beautiful hair isn’t of any purpose if you don’t get to touch it, to gather it in a ponytail, to pull on it. Your fingers creep into her brown locks not only to give it a little meaning but also for sanity. 
That isn’t a thing in Wonyoung’s world. She pulls your hand off and slaps it on your side. “No,” she says with a shake of her head. “Daddy can’t touch me, not when he’s pretending that he’s hot shit.”
Her nails bury themselves in your hips. Oh, the manicured talons of a gorgeous monster. Oh, the pain that runs through your sides. Should you run before she devours you? Too late for that.
“Wonyoung,” you breathe, and then ask, genuinely: “What the hell is wrong with you?”
She’s so proper and serene on her shows that not even her most desperate fan would think she’s a terror. They don’t know she’s a girl who likes older, weaker men who’d ruin her if she hasn’t the pretty face and attractively black heart to do them the favor instead. 
“What’s wrong with you?” 
You’d respond if you knew the answer.
Wonyoung rubs her thumb under your dick, sending little sparks aflying. “Why’d you kiss me earlier?” Her lipstick decorates it as a kinder girl would to your face. “Why didn’t you grab my hair and tell me to be a good girl? Why didn’t you leave? It’s not my fault you want to fuck me.”
All these words of destruction and your cock remains standing. It’s a staunch reminder to her that you can say whatever you want and the hard evidence remains. You want to fuck Wonyoung. You want to do it to a rookie who’d turn the story around on you if it ever came out. You want to fuck her so bad it’s borderline pitiable.
“I’m just giving you what you want, daddy.” Her fingers caress your sides. “Trust me, I could be a very good girl if I wanted to.”
You almost didn’t believe that until Wonyoung started to suck you off again. 
Her lips stroke you effortlessly as if this were her pastime. That’s your most accurate guess, because this seamless performance—the one of her mouth working on you with the impression that this whole thing is nothing to her—can’t be a natural gift. The combination of dripping saliva and her soft lips is lethal.
It’s unbelievable how she manages to find all your tender spots. She preys on them, licking and licking until you’re very sure you were going to blow all over her. But you can’t give her that satisfaction. 
You’re very close to doing so though. She’s perfectly sloppy and rough. You glare at her when she lightly teases her teeth on your girth. She winks at you in response. She leaves you breathless in so many ways. 
“Wonyoung, Wonyoung, god—” you whine. It’s so hard to adapt to the girl sitting there with that innocent face and wild mouth that doesn’t dare give up on you. 
Her expressions on camera are always poised. Off camera, there’s this one she flashes you as she shoves her face into your stomach that looks downright evil. Although she’s already fucking you with her throat, Wonyoung partners it with strong suction that’s sure to drain you. 
“Yes, daddy?” She doesn’t pant when she goes up for air, replacing her sucking with her long fingers. 
“I’m really close,” you admit. It’s obvious from your shaking legs. 
Sounds of returned wet suction start to increase. Criticism and compliments prod Wonyoung on. How else would she improve in her idol life? In blowing you? In devouring you?
You realize you’re fitting the cliché. There’s you, an idol whose name is uttered on the daily by both young and old fans, igniting a scandal in the making by fucking a girl beneath you in everything. There’s this expensive suite where stars go for a little precious privacy to do what they want. There’s the two of you doing exactly what you desire: fucking each other. There’s the classic maneater trope with how it’s more like Wonyoung fucking you—she fucks you with her face, fucks you in the head, fucks with your righteousness. Well, fuck.
Wonyoung drools so much that you’re invited to a sea the moment your head pushes past her tongue again. It’s slicker, sloppier, and so much sexier because she’s so completely devoted to your cock. Her hypnotizing eyes trap you and so does her body, tight and tiny—that tummy is flatter than a board and only thin panties hide what her long legs lead to from the bottom.
The only time she stops sucking you is when she darts her tongue side to side with an unhinged pace on your sensitive tip. “Good. Cum in my throat.”
“Shit, god, I can’t—”
Wonyoung attacks you again, and there, in her warm orifice, your plentiful orgasm spends itself. Her throat welcomes you tightly every time. Her hot restricted breaths fan your groin and evokes more semen that spills with no care. 
Your hands ball into fists. Although you’re hot and shaking, you can’t touch her. Why are you following her rules when it should be the other way around? It’s a reversal of roles, a Stockholm’s Syndrome of some sorts whose victim is your cock never wanting to leave from the predatory embrace of Wonyoung’s puckered kiss.
Of course, after she gathers all of your cum in the pool of her mouth, she swallows.
She really could be a good girl.
“Awh.” Wonyoung pouts mockingly. “Daddy, are you crying?”
Touch your face. To your horror, she’s right. The electricity and shock of her continuous blowjob results in a few tears on your cheeks. You haven’t done that in years. Wonyoung is the first one to make you cry like this.
You flush. What more to hide your weakness than anger? “Wonyoung,” you start, then you realize you don’t know what to say, “I—you—”
She smiles. You aren’t going anywhere.
She shoves you to the bed. You’ve reached rock bottom in spite of the softness of the quality pillows. You’ll scrape your way out if not for Wonyoung finishing the job by keeping you there assisted by her legs. They close around you with not even a courtesy false promise of an escape. No negotiation, no coaxes. 
Wonyoung is sitting on your crotch but not on your dick, which is a problem. Which is a solution. Her hands are pinned to your chest while you try not to meet her eyes. It’s a losing game when your runaway glances are met by her grinding hips, silky thighs, and the hard, flexing abs of a perfection of a midriff. 
Her fingers tug on the waistband of her panties before slowly slipping them off. Her pink pussy clear of blemish or hair comes in contact with your length. Up and down she goes, her dancing hips always seeking for more friction. You understand their need because you share the same—Wonyoung’s splayed lips on your member feel heavenly. It’s kind of disappointing that she might as well have climbed her way out of hell.
If she did, she’s the prettiest little devil you’ve ever seen.
“Ohhh, don’t you get it?” Wonyoung asks. She moves so smoothly, you nearly forget she’s humping you rather than dancing. Her soft moan brings you back. It’s the first time you’ve heard it, and you’re melting; it sounds so seductive and innocent in the same breath.
You know her. She knows you. So it’s clear: Jang Wonyoung can be anything—supermodel, actress, dancer—but she cannot ever be innocent. 
Her gorgeous voice is silky when it twists into moans and gasps. Looking down at your crotches meeting and swaying is a better show than end-of-the-year performances. The blowjob and commanding you around must have turned her on by a lot—her flesh is hot and wanton with juices as it slides up and down you.
“You’re not going anywhere, daddy!” Wonyoung giggles. She kisses your nose, then your chest until her lipstick marks you. You burn up with feverish lust after each peck. “Daddy is only Wonyoung’s. And I knew your perfect cock would be mine when I posted those pics. I know men like daddy would do anything for me.”
“Wonyoung.” Breathe again, because you’ll need to after this, so why not do it now? “Why are you doing this?”
You thought her flirtatiousness in your office was just her coyness coming out to play. She’d rest her chin on your desk, suck a red lollipop on some days, maybe run her fingertips over your knuckles. Day in and out, she plays the same game. You didn’t know it would reach this level.
“Because I want to mess you up, daddy,” Wonyoung says. Her tongue swipes at the cavern of your mouth right until she nibbles at your lower lip. Her lipstick peppers your face. “I want to fuck my daddy up so bad he’ll never go a day without thinking of me.”
Swallow. The friction of your sexes is driving you crazy and close to the edge. All the same, you don’t want to make a fool of yourself cumming early for Wonyoung. 
What happened to your dynamics? Your relationship? There wasn’t a romantic one, but it was always you holding the reins professionally and her just being an insistent passenger. Now she’s wrapping that rein around your neck and claiming you for her own. Looks like you have control everywhere excluding the bed.
“That’s it?” you ask. Shut your eyes—just seeing her grind on you with her utterly wet cunt can make you bust. “Your career doesn’t matter to you?”
“I could say the same thing to you.” Wonyoung lifts herself up and flashes that wicked smile again. “But I want to feel this in me before you wimp out.”
You and Wonyoung fall down a bottomless hole of consequence and wrongs but Wonyoung makes sure to bottom out the first time she sits on your dick. She engulfs you whole and traps you there with her soaked, grippy walls that slide all the way down. 
You’d say her pussy has a vise grip, holding onto you like all goes wrong if it didn’t, except you think it has the grip of a vice. Need for her juices that coat you replaces the need for alcohol. Even if you get out of this suite alive, (which is a low possibility), you can see yourself always coming back for more. You could be addicted to anything—smoking, eating, cheating—but it just so happened your vice is Wonyoung.
“Daddy!” she yelps, and from there you can’t count the times she slams her cute butt down your thighs. “Oh my god, daddy!”
Her dainty, cute yells make you throb inside her. Perhaps it’s the kittenish quality of it that turns you on so much. She sounds so appealing, so fucking ruinable that it’s surprising to see that she’s doing the ruining here. Her expression in bed is more animated than the ones she makes onstage—her nearly closed eyes look upwards while her mouth falls open. 
The squeeze of her tight, wet cunt renders your knees weak. It’s a good thing you’re lying down. Wonyoung makes sure you stay that way by penetrating herself with you over and over again. Her being barely a weight on you doesn’t stop you from lying there uselessly. You know better by now not to challenge her, not when each time you enter her vagina is better than the last. Her pussy is slippery and tight, proving to be the smallest and the best fit for your shaft simultaneously. Her hole is too tight and too good. 
“Is this all for me, daddy? Huh?” Wonyoung circles her hips, making you moan, then continues her up-and-down movements. “You’re so hard, you naughty daddy. I know you got a b-boner when you looked at my posts. Now I’m giving you another one.”
You always thought of Wonyoung as justifiably confident yet arrogant. She told you once at your desk that she doesn’t deserve a stylist who only has a four-star rating. She lamented about the lack of competence of her staff preparing her comeback stage. All those you turned down to give the topics of her complaints the benefit of the doubt, but you know she’s right. She doesn’t deserve less when she’s better than the best. She doesn’t deserve less when she knows her place: a royal throne. So you can’t deny that she’s too hot to handle, undiscriminating to you whose connections always have impossibly beautiful women somewhere in there.
She’s so hot that her small breasts bouncing from behind that denim bra and tube top looks appealing. She’s so hot that the heat between her legs grows wetter. She’s so hot that when her soft ass crashes down on you again, you don’t find it a repetitive bore. 
She’s so hot that you’d let the slim, tall girl use you until dusk turns to dawn, even if the curtains behind her are drawn apart and the secret cameras get to snap a photo.
“Shit, Wonyoung,” you say, your core squeezing. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“I bet you’ve thought about this, daddy. You thought that one night, I’ll be so bad that you could book us a whole hotel and fuck me in all the rooms, just like this one. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes, fuck yes.”
“You wanted to open my legs and use my little pussy all day long, huh? Until I’m yours to throw around and do whatever?”
“Y-yes.” Nod. Your face twists—she shouldn’t speak when she’s fucking you because all the filth she says makes you want to blow inside her already. It’s the kind of truth that arouses rather than hurts.
Wonyoung’s riding switches to a rapid intensity that makes you yell. She lets you in so deep to the point that her butt cheeks touch your heavy balls. She’ll drain them for sure; the pace she sets is terrifyingly quick. It seems that she becomes tighter after each bounce, and it’s not helping you hold out at all.
Watch the wildness in Wonyoung’s eyes become animalistic. It makes you all the more certain now of one solid fact: there is something seriously wrong with Jang Wonyoung.
She smirks. “Well, you got it wrong. I’m not all yours, daddy.” She leans down, resting her palms on your shoulders. “You are all mine.”
Her hands might as well be a chained collar waiting to close around your neck. Her devilish simper is supposed to scare you, not turn you on. Somehow, it does both. 
She flicks back her hair as she sits up again. Through it all, her riding doesn’t stop. “This cock?” she asks before slamming her pussy down it with a different kind of ferociousness. Cry out but she shuts you up with a furious kiss. “It’s gonna be my dirty secret. I’ll always go to daddy after my schedules so I can make him cum—over and over again.”
To think that a young girl like her has you at her beck and call is laughable, but there’s no laughing now. As you stare at Wonyoung’s fluid body and her hair bouncing beautifully, you realize she actually can have you for herself. It only took one Instagram post to lure you to her. She sees you’re falling deeper and deeper for her.
She didn’t exactly tell you how to escape.
“You gonna cum, daddy? Is my perfect pussy milking you?” 
You can do nothing except nod.
“Of course, I can feel you throbbing, i-it’s making me lose it,” gasps Wonyoung. Her whines are making you lose it yourself. “Let’s cum together, okay? You can only cum when you feel Wonyoung squirt all over your massive cock.”
She squeezes tighter on top of you when she reaches down to rub her clit. She’s in search of any kind of stimulation: the slap of her ass on your thighs, the upward shoves of your erection, the pulse of her clit. Her moans increase in their whiny girlishness. Their tender vulnerability makes you think she should be the one underneath your body though you’re aware that’s never going to happen. Wonyoung belongs on top, just the same with her name in first place in the list of brand reputation rankings, browser searches, followers.
Once upon a time, you took charge over her. You managed her lessons, her videos, her behind-the-scenes duties. Funny how it’s the opposite now, wherein she jounces on you freely with the domineering message of caution: don’t cum until she does.
And god, is she making that hard. Everything about her is so attractive, from the bounce of her hair to her midriff showing your entering cock to her pretty pink pussy clutching you. What gets you, however, is her face—everyone loves looking at that face. Today, you’re under an aphrodisiac for it: you’re in love with the roll of her eyes as she rides you, the pink on her cheeks, the part of her lips. 
“Fuck yes! Ugh, daddy, you feel so good inside me…” Wonyoung’s core clenches and slides your penis along its textured, sensitive walls. Her gasp is straight out of fantasies. “You’re balls deep, see? Look how your meat’s filling me. My pussy’s going to be so sore after this.” She chuckles. “Wait, who says we’re stopping?”
You shudder. You’re getting very close. Your earlier orgasm still has its effects on you. You’re afraid you’re going to do something you shouldn’t under her bedroom law. She’ll imprison you with her thighs and waterboard you with all the girl cum she promised until you confess that she’s the best fuck you ever had. 
“Daddy’s going to cum so hard he’s probably going to breed me. Then I’ll, oh, I’ll feel it inside my tummy and it’s going to be a scandal. Wouldn’t you like that? Getting to knock up Jang Wonyoung? I can hear you moaning. I think you really like that. I think that’s why you’re thrusting up in me. You want to be a real daddy and make your baby girl a mommy. That’s so fucked up, you know that, right? You shouldn’t be having sex with me, let alone breeding me. But you’re a fucking weak old man, so of course you like that.”
You’re burning up. They’re the signs of what’s to come. If her confident words inspire her young fans, her monologues of lust make you feel like you’re the worst person in the world. Of course, the boner is part of the effect. 
You groan. “Wonyoung, baby girl, please—”
“Oh god, daddy, I’m going to cum!” she squeals. Her emotions control her and tell her to go harder, bounce harder, squeeze harder. She’s pushing past her limits. “Agh, agh, you’re cumming, too, right? Cum for me. You’ll be—fuck, my daddy’s going to make me cum! I’m squirting all over his cock!”
She slams herself down roughly and repeatedly till your lower body’s flooded with her cum. You can’t take it anymore. It feels like dying because you swear you can see stars in the ceiling, stars of lust in her eyes. La petite mort. How poetic, since Wonyoung’s screaming still sounds as beautiful as her singing and speaking. 
Her shouts are close to breaking the windows’ glass. Anyone can figure out what’s happening without the destruction of the pane—the curtains are wide open, letting the world see the youngest icon of the new generation pumping herself onto her co-worker. 
You wonder if there’s actually poor watchers out there seeing you cream Wonyoung’s princess pussy, grab her ass to guide her, and kiss her when she leans down.
Wonyoung tastes the best when she’s squirting.
-
Consequences always catch up no matter what. You can hide under a cloak, in another country, underneath the earth in a secluded bunker and all that won’t help. You’ll be stuck dealing with the outcome, thorns from a rose you thought was too pretty to have some. 
That’s the first thing you remember when you wake up, wrapped in the bed sheets and by Wonyoung’s arms. Someone’s calling you. Bad news: it’s your boss—the ringtone itself sounds angry, too. 
“Hello?” you ask. You can’t help the grogginess of your morning voice, try as you may. If your boss didn’t know what happened, he can perfectly guess from the exhaustion riddling your greeting. 
“You dumb little shit.” You can feel the spittle of your boss’ insult from miles away, cities away, screens away. “You’re lucky I’m friends with the fucking CEO.”
“What happened?”
“Don’t give me that. Some janitor saw you from the wing. I needed to hear it from you: did you fuck Jang Wonyoung?”
Unexpectedly, a veiny hand you remember holding something else grabs your phone. Wonyoung leans against your shoulder wearing nothing as she holds the phone to her ear.
“Why?” she quips, loud and clear. “Wouldn’t you?”
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tarotwithavi · 6 months
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How to dress according to your venus sign
Can also be applied for Rising and mid heaven.
For entertainment purposes only!
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Aries venus
Bold. you should embrace bold and adventurous styles that reflect your fiery and passionate nature. Opt for vibrant, eye-catching colors like red, orange, and hot pink to showcase your enthusiasm and energy. Choose clothing that highlights your individuality, such as unique statement pieces and daring accessories. Aries Venus individuals often enjoy a sporty, active lifestyle, so incorporate athleisure elements into your wardrobe, like sneakers or activewear-inspired outfits. Show off your confident and independent spirit with edgy cuts and styles, like asymmetrical hemlines or bold patterns. Don't be afraid to experiment with fashion and be the trendsetter in your group.
Taurus venus
Taurus venus is for luxurious, earthy, and sensuous attire. Begin with soft, tactile fabrics like silk, velvet, or cashmere in earthy tones such as deep greens, browns, and soft pinks. Your style should prioritize comfort and quality, so invest in well-fitted, timeless pieces like tailored blazers, flowy maxi dresses, or high-waisted trousers. Accessories should be elegant and understated, favoring natural gemstones like emeralds and rose quartz. Shoes should be both stylish and comfortable, such as leather ankle boots or suede loafers. Hair and makeup should be natural and effortless, with loose waves or soft curls and a nude or earth-toned palette. Show off that neck gurlll.
Gemini Venus
you should embrace versatility and a playful sense of style. Gemini is ruled by Mercury, making communication and adaptability key. Opt for outfits that allow you to mix and match, like a wardrobe full of separates, bright colors, and patterns. Experiment with various accessories to express your ever-changing tastes. Consider wearing clothing that incorporates elements of duality or contrast, such as asymmetrical designs or reversible pieces. Gemini is an air sign, so lightweight, breathable fabrics like cotton and silk can be your best friend. Don't forget to change up your style regularly to keep things interesting, as Venus in Gemini individuals thrive on variety and novelty in fashion.
Cancer Venus
You should embrace a style that reflects your emotional and nurturing nature. For example, soft, flowing fabrics in gentle, watery colors like seafoam green, silver, and pastel blues that soothe your sensitive spirit. Incorporate vintage or nostalgic elements into your wardrobe. Embrace feminine, figure-flattering silhouettes that accentuate your curves and emphasize your nurturing qualities. Jewelry with moonstone, pearls, and other iridescent gems complements your lunar sensibilities. Wearcozy, comfortable clothing that exudes warmth and comfort, like oversized sweaters and cardigans. Incorporate subtle touches of sea-inspired accessories, such as seashell-shaped pendants or bracelets.
Leo venus
Channel your inner confidence and glamor. Choose bold and attention-grabbing colors like fiery reds, golds, and vibrant purples. Like luxurious fabrics that exude regality, such as silk or velvet. Incorporate statement pieces like a dramatic, floor-length gown or a tailored suit with a dramatic flair. Don't shy away from sequins, metallics, or animal prints. Accessorize with bold and extravagant jewelry, such as statement necklaces or oversized earrings, and make sure your hair is styled to perfection, whether it's flowing locks or a bold updo. Animal prints and gold jewellery were made for leo venus.
Virgo Venus
Go for clean, practical, and detail-oriented fashion choices. Embrace earthy tones such as muted greens, browns, and neutrals, which resonate with Virgo's grounded nature. Pay attention to the smallest details in your outfit, like perfectly tailored clothing and well-coordinated accessories. Choose modest, well-fitted pieces that emphasize your natural beauty and avoid anything overly flashy or extravagant. Your style should exude professionalism and functionality, so consider incorporating classic pieces like tailored blazers, pencil skirts, and crisp white shirts. Also go for comfortable yet stylish footwear, and keep your hair and makeup understated, emphasizing a natural and polished look. Adding a hint of vintage charm or retro-inspired pieces can also align with Venus in Virgo's appreciation for the past.
Libra Venus
You should embrace elegance and harmony in your attire. Choose clothing that embodies balance and refined taste, such as well-tailored suits or dresses in soft, pastel colors or shades of pink, which resonate with Venus's love for beauty. Opt for outfits with clean lines and symmetrical patterns, as they appeal to Libra's sense of equilibrium. Accessories like tasteful jewelry, scarves, and belts can enhance your look, adding a touch of sophistication. Keep your hair and makeup balanced and graceful, avoiding overly bold or dramatic styles. Ultimately, aim for an ensemble that exudes charm, grace, and a sense of unity to align with the traits associated with Venus in Libra.
Scorpio Venus
Go for dark, intense colors like deep burgundy, black, or dark purple to exude passion and depth. Choose clothing that highlights your curves and adds an element of intrigue, such as form-fitting dresses, lacy lingerie, or leather accents. Incorporate accessories like statement jewelry with mystical or occult symbolism, and don't shy away from bold makeup with smoky eyes and deep, rich lip colors. Embrace fabrics like silk and velvet for their sensuality, and let your clothing choices reveal just enough skin to leave an air of mystery.
Sagittarius Venus
You should go for bold and vibrant colors that reflect your love for exploration and spontaneity. Choose comfortable, travel-friendly outfits that allow you to move freely. Consider loose-fitting bohemian dresses, wide-legged pants, and flowy tops for a laid-back yet stylish look. Accessorize with statement pieces like oversized sunglasses, feathered jewelry, or colorful scarves to showcase your eclectic taste. Footwear should be practical yet fashionable, such as comfy sandals or unique, eye-catching boots..
Capricorn Venus
You should opt for a classic and sophisticated style that exudes professionalism and ambition. Choose well-tailored, timeless pieces such as tailored blazers, pencil skirts, and crisp white shirts. Earthy and muted colors like black, navy, gray, and olive green are ideal, as they convey a sense of seriousness and authority. Invest in high-quality, durable materials like wool and leather. Accessories should be understated but elegant, such as a simple pearl necklace or a quality leather handbag. Practicality and functionality are key, so go for comfortable yet stylish shoes like classic pumps or ankle boots.
Aquarius Venus
Embody a unique and futuristic style that reflects your individuality and love for unconventional beauty. Go for clothing that incorporates metallic accents, electric blues, and vibrant purples, as these colors resonate with Aquarius energy. Experiment with asymmetrical and avant-garde designs, such as one-shoulder tops or geometric patterns. Statement accessories like chunky silver jewelry, oversized sunglasses, and tech-inspired pieces can add a touch of eccentricity to your look.
Pisces Venus
Embrace a dreamy and romantic style. Opt for flowing, ethereal fabrics like chiffon or silk in soft, oceanic colors like seafoam green, lavender, or aqua. Incorporate loose-fitting and comfortable clothing that allows you to move gracefully. Accessorize with subtle, mystical jewelry such as seashell necklaces, pearl earrings, or pieces featuring fish motifs, as Pisces is associated with the fish symbol. Don't shy away from pastel hues, and consider outfits with a touch of shimmer or iridescence to capture the Pisces love for fantasy and illusion. Flowing maxi dresses, bohemian-inspired attire, or anything reminiscent of a mermaid's allure will resonate.
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Let me know your thoughts
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moonastro · 1 month
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peoples first impression of you
pick a picture
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left to right(top)-> 1,2
left to right(bottom)-> 3,4
°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes. °Don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as I would entirely appreciate it). ° This is a GENERAL reading, take what resonates and leave and pass on what does not!
***IMAGES ARE NOT MINE***
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pile one-
people perceive the resilience that you give out, they are aware that you are not easy to mess with and you aren't as careless as they would have though you are. People often see you as closed off, most likely because of other worries of occurrences in life. You have this courage that is very noticeable and often people see that you are fearless. They see no weakness in you, you will approach life with full confidence and power. Sometimes, you can break your cool but its not because you are needy or arrogant, its because you cant stand unfairness, people notice your ambition to fix a problem especially when it is so obvious. Yeah, you have a very fixed presence and most people can be quite scared to mess up, this can be because of your facial expressions or you could be someone that is hard to impress especially with new people as you don't show your inner self to them yet. Yet you might be seen as someone gullible too. you also can be perceived as someone with their head up high and ignoring their surroundings. This can make it harder for someone to approach you as they see that you are someone who may not be in the mood to talk to people. you may struggle to trust your intuition and you may just take the leap without thinking much of it with the mindset of whatever happens- happens.
first that people notice: your physical health (you may workout or are in great physique), your beauty, your style of clothing (may be very put together and neat), your smile, your limbs.
your vibe to other people:
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chic, modest, unbothered, chill, independent, cool, grounded, intellectual, business oriented, career opinionated, vintage, fashion
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pile two-
people may not necessarily notice you, this can be that you don't show yourself or you just prefer to observe from afar. Yeah, people notice how you isolate yourself so they rarely see you hence why others don't see you very much. This may also be that every time someone sees you, you may not have changed that much in terms of style, appearance or attitude which may leave them not have a new impression of you. people notice how you are stuck with old patterns. this may not be a bad thing its just what others observe about you. there is lots of loneliness and others may think you are struggling with something but they feel that they cant help you because you wont allow them. they feel useless. you may have lost someone close or these transformative occurrences keep happening so you may be in constant mourning and grief and may not have time to heal. this is not the end of the world though, they may think that you have something that others may want but you are too focused on he negative. you are very good with words. you have a poetic way of speaking and when you do people are fascinated. people notice your way of thinking and how you come up with solutions very easily and quickly. you may write a lot maybe journal and get your worries out on a piece of paper.
first thing that people notice: your walk, your head pieces (may be headband, ribbon, hair clips and whatever else you wear on your head, may even be glasses), your right hand (may wear significant jewellery on that hand, your clothing colours, odd style.
your vibe to other people:
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eccentric, colourful, tired, unbothered, baggy clothing, indie, untidy style, unconventional, alternative, eyes blocked/ covered, unapproachable
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pile three-
people notice your positive view of the world, you may talk or have relations to other people who like your attitude and they may give you job related opportunities. you have good news with money so people give an impression that you are financially stable. you may not like to be in big groups and may not work as well in a team. this may make you quieter that you are or this may make you feel small and useless. you also may not address problems and keep them in. people usually only hear you speak about the positives in life and they wonder what you truly go through as you don't really address those topics. you are rather serious and don't take things lightly. you can take some things too seriously and people notice that about you. you take whatever you have and make it work for you. you are very vocal about your possessions and are not afraid to show off your ideas and abilities. yet, others notice how you work with whatever you are given and you do it well. you are proud of your creations and skills and are not afraid to use them and show them off. people see you as someone who is very proud of themselves. you are quite flirty in nature, you tend to show off your financial earnings in order to get others attention. you are every good with emotions and others see your empathy and interest through your expressions- this makes you very approachable and friendly. people feel like you are someone who they can trust in the long run. on the other end, you constantly regret your actions from the past which can change your mood completely. you have matured well and others notice that.
first thing that people notice: your creativity, your potential (you seem like someone who is on the path to success), your inspirational nature, your ideas, your fighting nature, your motivation, your hair.
your vibe to other people:
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classy, successful, positive, fiery, showing your legs/arms, confident, powerful, smiley, expressive, formal, sexy.
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pile four-
you are very hardworking and are always keen to learn and master your skills. people notice how patient you are and very detailed. you take time to get to know something so you will be able to teach someone else. people notice your ability to teach and coach others. you are are very peaceful soul, very laid back and very reserved. you will give others the chance to shine instead of yourself and i feel like only some notice that about you. you sometimes are on the verge of giving up and you are vocal about it. yup, you always give give give. you are the most selfless person that anyone knows. you are so generous that most people can think you are putting up an act but truly you believe that what you give out comes back to you. people notice your curiosity, you may question a lot of things and ask lots of questions to other people. you may also observe and talk about the things others don't care about. you always seek the truth and it may be why you question everything as you wish it would give you answers.
first thing that people notice: your pet (may walk your dog a lot of you may spend time with an animal a lot), your leadership, your vision, your determination, your honesty, your stubbornness, your friendly nature, your structure.
your vibe to other people:
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casual, simple, comfortable, easy going, in your own world, warm, natural, open, free, informal, effortless, sincere, not extra, relaxed, placid, flexible.
That is all!! thank you so much for reading, have a good day and i hope something amazing happens today.
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catacropolis · 5 months
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Vil outfit design inspired by high fashion and chapter 5 Overblot design
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Vil’s Overblot design reminds me a lot of a nuns habit so I wanted to bring in some recognizable themes such as candles, rosaries , gold detailing and such . For the face droplet mascara and tears meant to mirror crying Mary statues and such .
All this to say I wanted to design something based on these elements and while also being distinctly connected to vil.
I think it’s really interesting that Vil’s Overblot design is so reminiscent of nuns . The juxtaposition of vil who in the spotlight who is well known for his beauty , believing himself to be ugly , is dressed in what is considered to be “modest “ clothing covering himself from view .
Vil is an extremely interesting character coupled with his ob design being my favorite i love this part of his design .
It’s been a while since I’ve drawn vil and I missed it
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newestcool · 1 year
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Alexander McQueen f/w 2006 rtw ''Widows of Culloden'' Creative Director Alexander McQueen  Newest Cool on Instagram
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green-eyedladywrites · 8 months
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The Sheriff's Hat
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Newly divorced Rick Grimes falls for a sweet, innocent (or so he thinks!) school teacher.
Warnings: heartbreak, infidelity (Lori and Shane), then love and sweet smut!
Rick Grimes got ready for work in the morning like everyone else.
Hit snooze once, shower, shave, hang the towel to dry, and drink coffee in the backyard before getting dressed. He meticulously pressed his own uniforms once a week, every Sunday night, to have them ready for the week (even though he was usually off on Mondays). It was an old fashioned routine - the same his grandfather had when he was a sheriff - but it was comfortable for Rick. Comfortable and calm.
But now, every single morning, when he reached for his sheriff's hat on his way out, the memory of you, standing in his bedroom, wearing nothing but that hat, gave him a healthy, erect pause.
He thought you were old fashioned too, at first. You were hired as his 10 year old son's teacher almost a year after his wife left him for his best friend and former partner. Plain long hair, usually tied up in a high bun, a few soft strands loose at the back of your neck. Modest school-teacher outfits, the bulkier the better, to hide your curves from curious pubescent eyes, as well as unfaithful fathers and catty (or jealous) mothers. Maybe just a swipe of berry lip balm on your lips, nothing more. You looked like a school teacher. And everyone loved you.
You were at every activity, recital, sports game, and parent-teacher conference. Carl adored you, and you raved about him as a student. Although Rick couldn't bear to look at any woman with interest, your presence comforted him. Anyone or anything that could make Carl smile, provide stability during the divorce and awkwardness, was in Rick's prayers.
Your first encounter alone together happened during Carl's fifth grade Christmas party in the gymnasium. Rick arrived late, coming straight from work in uniform and with a fresh black eye, earning a scowl from Lori.
"Hal got me," he explained, referencing the old town drunk who was once on his way to fame and riches as a boxer. Even after decades of whiskey, the old-timer could still knock-out any young officer who's turn it was to wrangle him into the drunk tank.
"Still," Lori chided unfairly. She somehow acted as if everything was Rick's fault. As if he had been unfaithful, broken up their family, chose to live apart from his son, somehow deserved to be ashamed in front of neighbors and friends. Wanting only to keep the peace, for Carl, Rick quietly took every one of her hits to his heart.
Carl ran over and squeezed his chest, always excited to see him.
"Dad! Dad! Come and see!" Carl squealed and pulled him towards the folding tables full of potluck food and drinks. He gestured near the lunch bowl and yelled, "Ta-da!" at a tall snowman made entirely of cotton balls. "Me and Miss Y/N made it today! She even brought in food coloring and we died the nose orange and the buttons black and the hat and- -"
Rick laughed, amused and impressed by the fluffy yet accurate and somehow stable figure. You appeared quietly, smiling, and said, "Carl did most of it."
"Isn't it cool, dad?! And I get to take it home too!," Carl said.
"Very cool," Rick beamed.
Two other kids called Carl over, leaving you and Rick alone at the table.
"I think you need some real snow for that eye," you said, teasing but sympathetic.
Rick smiled and sighed. "Occupational hazard."
"Same," you joked. "This sweater hides the dodge ball bruises."
Rick laughed. For the first time in months. And suddenly realized how pretty you were.
"Follow me," you said, heading for the hallway. For some reason, by some instinct, without question, Rick followed you all the way to the nurse's office.
You took an ice pack from the cabinet and broke it up in your hands, activating the cooling effect. Rick began to protest but you shsh'd him and reached up to delicately place it on the swelling beside his eye.
Despite the ice, heat flashed through Rick's body at your touch. He swallowed hard, unsure where to look. He twitched and jumped back when his pants began to strain, barely risking you feeling it. He held his hat in front of his crotch and replaced your hand with his on the pack.
"Thanks- - thank- - thank you," he stuttered, feeling like a high school boy again.
"You're welcome. I know it hurts," you said sincerely.
"Oh, this," Rick dismissed, "it's fine, this is nothing."
"I didn't mean your eye."
He looked squarely at you and lowered the ice pack,
It did hurt. So fucking much. More than anyone could imagine. Except maybe you. You seemed to know.
Tears spilled over his eyes, without warning, bringing only more humiliation, more shame, more regret on top of more than he could already bear.
He sat and wiped his face hurriedly, repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry- -"
You sat beside him and took his hand. Your touch instantly eased him.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," you said and handed him some tissues. "Let it out. It helps. Trust me."
You smiled at him softly in understanding. He realized he did trust you. But he was afraid if he let it all out, he'd never stop.
"You, uh… been in my spot?" He asked.
You nodded. "My fiancé. My sister," you revealed.
"Ouch," Rick commented.
"Look, I don't know the details. But I don't like seeing anyone hang their head. And from what I've seen, you're the best father in this whole town."
Rick felt his cheeks burn, and his heart soar.
You patted him on the shoulder and stood up to leave.
"Take all the time you need, ok. It's ok to take care of yourself, too."
He sat there for a while after you'd left, until his pride returned and the ice pack felt luke warm. He walked back into the gym just in time for the kids' Christmas chorus. Carl was in the front row, and beamed when he saw Rick sit in the bleachers. Rick realized his son's face lit up like that every time he saw him. Always a hug, an "I love you," "I missed you." Rick still wouldn't say he was "the best" father, but he had to be doing something right for such a happy boy.
Rick saw you at least once a week when he picked up Carl from school for "Dad-dinner" nights. A couple of months later, Valentine's Day fell on a Friday, on Rick's alternate weekend. He got to the school a little early and chatted with the assistant principal about the latest town news - the new traffic light at the intersection, the stricter leash laws, how much rain they'd gotten lately. When every kid filed out except Carl, the staff allowed Rick to go up and see about the delay.
He relaxed when he heard laughter from the classroom from down the hall. You giggled and hugged a broom as you tried to dodge handfuls of pink and red confetti from Carl.
"Ah! I'm hit!" You groaned and slumped onto a desk.
"Stop right there, son. Step away from the lady," Rick smiled, playing along. He picked up his radio but didn't press the button. "Dispatch, this is Grimes, we got a 222 confetti incident at the school."
"Sheriff, thank God!" You cried dramatically.
"You'll never take me alive, Copper!" Carl shouted gleefully, holding the dustpan brush like a gun.
You all broke and gave in to fits of laughter. You wiped tears from your eyes and confetti off your sweater, which was red and tighter than usual. Your generous chest drew Rick's eyes as you caught your breath. Your hair was half down and curled at the bottom, and small heels peeked out from beneath your long dress. Rick's joy faded as he figured you must have a date that night. Not that he would've asked you out. Not that he was ready. And you were Carl's teacher. But- -
"Dad, can we get pizza tonight?" Carl asked, snapping Rick back into the moment.
"Sure," Rick obliged happily.
"With extra pepperoni?" Carl asked.
"The best way!" You cheered.
"You wanna come with us?" Carl asked you.
"Uh, Carl," Rick began, "she's all dressed up, I think she's got a date tonight."
"Oh, no, I don't," you clarified.
"But you look so pretty," Carl said.
"Aw, thanks, kiddo. I just… felt like it, I guess," you explained and bit your lip.
"It suits you," Rick said quietly with a shy smile. "I don't mean to- -"
"You're not. It's nice to hear." Neither of you stopped smiling, until Carl cleared his throat.
"So, pizza?"
"You guys go on, I got this," you offered.
"No no, we're staying to clean up," Rick insisted.
"Only if you come with us for pizza!" Carl smiled hopefully.
"Carl!" Rick scolded lightly, but part of him loved the idea.
"Pleeeease?" Carl begged.
"I couldn't- -" you half-heartedly protested, internally torn.
"We'd love for you to join us. If it's not too…" Rick offered. "But we're cleaning up no matter what," he told Carl.
"Well, I am all dressed up,'" you reasoned, grinning, and hurriedly swept faster.
You followed them to Pizza Mia on Main Street and took over the big, half-moon booth in the back. The waitress knew Rick and Carl from their weekly visits, and she knew you from your frequent take-out orders.
"Extra pepperoni for my favorite customers?" She smiled.
"Yeah!" The three of you sang together.
The tiny place was empty except for the local singles getting their pick-up orders. Still, whoever did pass through raised their eyebrows at the sight. A couple of the men saluted Rick or gave him a thumbs up. He'd smirk, scoff, or shake his head each time. But he had to admit, the ego boost was even more satisfying than his favorite food and seeing his son have a blast.
The three of you stayed well past Carl's bedtime, shared a brownie sundae for dessert, and played Rick's favorite horrible songs on the jukebox.
When the waitress brought the check over, Rick was firm on paying, and walking you out to your car. Neither of you could stop smiling, or thanking the other for the best night in years. Carl even hugged you.
Later, long after Carl was asleep, Rick once again laid awake alone in his bed, frustrated. But that night, instead of questions, regrets, and heartbreak, he tossed and turned in a different kind of frustration. What did you look like under that sweater? What would you look like with your new lipstick smeared on your face? Why couldn't he stop remembering you wiping pizza sauce from your chin, then slowly licking your finger? What would you look like…
He refused to go there. You were Carl's teacher. Sure, it was allowed for teachers to date parents, but it wasn't wise. He still had to see you at pick-up time, two more teacher conferences, and elementary school graduation. And he wasn't ready for dating, and certainly not a relationship. He was just horny. But that was even more out of the question, and not just with his son's teacher. Old fashioned Rick Grimes had never done casual sex. He'd only been with Lori. He'd never cheated. He even felt guilty for masturbating during their marriage (which he resorted to constantly at the end).
But you. How innocent and modest you were. How he wanted to both keep you perfect and pretty, yet ruin you in primal ways.
Lonely lust won when the only way to relieve his painful hard-on was to imagine you naked in front of the jukebox, swaying, swinging your hips, your full breasts bouncing, your back arched, moaning to his song, bent over a table in front of him, your nails scratching the varnished wood, your ass locked to his pelvis as he blasted deep inside you… or, onto his sheets, alone in his plain bedroom, hoping his son hadn't heard his desperate grunts of relief.
How would he face you, he wondered, as sleep overtook him.
Everyone in town gossiped about the three of you having dinner together. On Valentine's night, no less. Good for him, some said. Good for her, others said. Too soon, thought others.
Of course it got back to Lori, as twisted and confused as news could get once it had passed through too many mouths. Some swore the two of you held hands, another heard he kissed you goodnight in front of Carl.
Lori brought it up when Rick dropped Carl off on Sunday night.
"Oh, no, it wasn't like that," Rick said dismissively.
"Then what was it like?" Lori asked, arms folded in her new driveway.
Something snapped in Rick. He and Lori hadn't argued once since she'd moved out, for the first time in years. They were both free, both right and neither wrong. That was the only thing Rick was grateful for in the whole situation. But having her question him, now that he was free, after what she'd done…
"It was what we all felt like doing for dinner, Lori. It was just pizza. And it's not your business."
"Well my son was there- -"
"And he had more fun than he's had all year!" Rick shouted. "So did I. I don't think I've had that much fun in years! Fucking years, Lori."
Lori's jaw dropped, her expression aghast and indignant. "Do not yell at me- -"
"Do not question what I do, or who I do it with! You, of all people!" He finally judged harshly.
Lori swallowed her tears, and Rick leaned against the closed trunk, composing himself.
"I'm sorry," he said as he stared at that cracked pavement.
"Me too," Lori gulped. "I always will be. I know I've said it a million times… I'm just worried about Carl. Because it could- -"
Rick stood up straight, calmer. "It really wasn't anything. She was alone, and you know Carl, always inviting everybody and their mother over. And I know she's his teacher, so it ain't right."
Lori let her arms drop and relaxed. "She won't be his teacher forever, you know."
"You trying to fix me up now? That it?" He shook his head.
"I think you deserve to be happy," Lori said.
"I was… I thought I was," he said and squeezed his sinuses.
"I was, too," Lori admitted. "In the beginning. But I think we were just too young. Way too young."
"Then we grew up," Rick thought out loud.
"And apart," Lori finished for him.
They both exhaled, spent, relieved. Sure, it was a fight. But it ended in understanding, and agreement. Neither of them ever thought they'd see the day…
"If you… I think she's the perfect person for you to have pizza with," Lori nudged with a small smile.
Rick laughed, then blushed. "I'm not… not yet. And if it didn't work out… Carl…"
"Well, you've got til the end of the school year to think about it," Lori shrugged reassuringly.
"I will. Anyway, I gotta get home."
"Iron your uniforms," Lori teased.
"You know it," Rick owned it with a big smile.
They both reached for each other and sighed into a final hug.
"Thanks," Rick said.
"Oh… pfft, no… " Lori waved him away happily.
As Rick drove away, it occurred to him that he and Lori were still growing up. But now that they were apart, they were growing stronger. He finally felt that, soon, he'd be strong enough for you.
Your skirts and dresses started to get shorter as the weather got warmer. On the first official day of spring, when Rick picked up Carl, you and some of the kids were wearing flower crowns you'd made.
Carl decided to play musical headwear. He
switched his crown with yours, then your crown with Rick's hat, and finally Rick's hat ended up on your head. You struck a silly stuck-em-up pose and asked cheerily, "How do I look?"
Rick couldn't answer out loud, but in his head he whimpered, "I surrender."
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The obvious chemistry between you two spurred more town gossip. Some decided you were already sleeping together. Others insisted you hadn't, but should. The rest ranged from believing the sheriff should sow his wild oats to tut-tutting that the ink on the divorce papers wasn't even dry yet. A few men (both single and not) took their shot with you, to see how serious it was between you and Rick. Your refusals, however polite, only fueled the fire.
On Mother's Day, Carl was with Lori, of course. Rick still gave her flowers, because she was not only the mother of his child, he still believed she was a great mother.
His own mother had passed away a few years before, so he visited her grave on the edge of town. The cemetery was busy that day, and fresh flowers adorned many headstones. Rick's father lived in a nursing home two towns over and, as an only child, Rick took care of the maintenance. He wiped the glossy front and back, brushed away debris from the top, adjusted the mementos, and laid down fresh pink roses, her favorite.
As he drove towards the exit he noticed you sitting alone on a bench, overlooking the pond. He parked and quietly walked over. You smiled when you saw him approaching and patted the seat next to you.
"Another thing we have in common," you announced.
"How long since yours passed?" Rick asked as he sat down.
"I was Carl's age."
"That's hard."
You shrugged. "20 years. I still miss her so much."
"Your dad?" Rick asked carefully.
"Still here."
"That's good. Mine too. You close with him?"
"I was, until what happened with my sister. I haven't spoken to her since, in almost 3 years, and he's just torn between us. Cheating never just hurts the one person," you mused.
"No, it sure doesn't," Rick agreed, thinking of Carl, Lori's parents, their friends, neighbors, everyone awkward and tip-toeing the neutral balance line.
"I hope this isn't out of line, but I've noticed that you and Lori seem to be getting along better. Carl has been more focused lately, too."
"I think a lot of that is thanks to you," Rick smiled. "You're the best teacher he's ever had."
He watched your face flush and your chest fill with pride. "He's a great kid. I wish I could be his teacher every year."
"I don't," Rick blurted out. Your expression plummeted in confusion, and he quickly gestured to recover. "No, I don't… that came out wrong, I think I- -"
You grinned amused and curious at his blabbering. You reached over and placed your hand over his to reassure him.
"I'm not good at this," he blushed, for the 100th time in your presence.
"I'm a bit rusty too."
His eyes connected with yours, and every last bit of hesitation and pretense crumbled at your feet. Rick lifted his other hand to your cheek and leaned closer. You met him halfway, until his lips softly brushed against yours. He pressed his palm closer to your skin and your lips together tighter, need and relief driving him forward into you. Your kiss was the light at the end of the tunnel of the most painful year of his life, and he ran into it at full speed, until you stopped him.
"Not yet," you whispered but squeezed his hand and pressed your forehead to his.
He inhaled and swallowed, knowing you were right, but not willing to let you go yet.
"I know," he agreed.
"But… as soon as the school year is over…" you grinned.
"Yes, yes. When's that again? Tomorrow?" He joked.
You chuckled. "About 5 weeks."
Rick tried to stand up. "Nah, I'm the law here, and I say school ended Friday."
You both laughed, and you leaned into him. He rubbed your shoulder and looked around.
"We usually bust up teenagers doing this here," he said.
"Well, we're adults, we can do what we want," you joked and sat up.
He couldn't stop smiling at you and brushed some hair away from your face.
"I can't wait," he said.
"Me either."
Carl was counting the days as well. Lori and Rick promised him a 10-speed bike on the last day, if his grades were good (which they always were). Every time Rick picked him up from school he'd announce, "Four more weeks!" "Three more weeks!" "8 more days!"
Rick busied himself with putting the bike together and cleaning out the house. After Lori moved out, he couldn't bear to replace the things she'd taken or rearrange what was left. Empty spaces and oddly placed picture frames littered surfaces.
He realized he'd been living alone with the belongings of a married couple that didn't exist anymore. Sheets with purple flowers, soap and coffee brands that he didn't even like but kept buying out of habit, fancy dishes received as gifts that collected dust in the cupboard.
He bought new white sheets, tried every coffee brand on the store shelf, sold the China set, and brought boxes of stuff from the basement and closets to Goodwill. He also put up new pictures - some new ones of Carl or his old family pictures, and a couple of scenic shots from a local photographer. The house started to feel like his own once he cleaned out the ghosts and filled it with hope.
Elementary school graduation arrived quickly. Carl had slept over the night before and Rick took a few vacation days off. He knew Carl would want to learn to ride the new bike immediately. He also wanted to see you.
He planned to ask you to dinner for the night after graduation, at a bistro in the next town, away from the oggles and whispers of townies.
You couldn't spare a moment during the big day. There were diplomas and awards to hand out, hands to shake, pictures to take, wayward students to wrangle, parents to appease, and other teachers working together to pull the whole thing off. The vice principal of the middle school spoke to the kids about what they could look forward to next year - new sports, class varieties, clubs to join, and a newly redone cafeteria. None of the kids cared - they were free for the summer!
All the parents organized a potluck BBQ at the park. You were there… and so was Shane. It was the first time he and Rick had to be at a function or holiday together. Every other time, the two men traded off, or saw each other in passing. This time, they sat at the same picnic table, ate the pulled pork and potato salad, and even chatted casually about the arrogant new recruits at work.
You had never treated Lori and Shane differently than any other parent or step parent. It was just another way you naturally eased Rick's life, even from the edges.
At one point, the two men ended up alone together on each side of the table. Rick was too busy watching you laugh with another teacher while handing out brownies and cupcakes. Shane drained his beer can and broke the ice.
"Thanks for building the bike. You know I'm terrible at it."
Rick grinned politely. "It only took me two tries."
Shane relaxed and continued. "Lori says… you and Y/N… maybe."
"Yeah, I think so," Rick admitted, pleased and proud.
Shane smiled and nodded. "That's good, good. Real good."
Rick smiled back and said before taking a sip of beer, "Stay away from this one, alright."
Shane dropped his gaze, shamed and disappointed, bordering on angry, until Rick laughed, "Too soon?"
Shane laughed with him, until the two men couldn't stop.
Lord, how everyone talked that night.
Rick and Shane had their first conversation in over a year. Rick kept it brief, to make sure it ended on a high note, then walked over to your dessert station.
"Chocolate or vanilla?" You asked cheerfully.
"Dinner," he said confidently.
You chuckled. "Yes!"
"Marcel's, tomorrow night?" Rick asked.
You waited until two students walked away and countered, "Your house."
Rick's firmly planted, hands-on-hips stance faltered at the implications. Your eyes never left his, insistent.
He nodded and ducked his head to hide his flushed cheeks. "Uhh, yeah," he grinned.
"Pizza Mia? Extra pepperoni?" You requested cutely.
He reconsidered, doubting his assumptions now, wondering if you really just wanted pizza and privacy.
"Anything you want," he agreed, and accepted a chocolate cupcake.
The next night, as he waited for you, he twitched, paced, rearranged, and triple-checked everything. The pizza would be delivered at 6:30, and he had the drink you'd ordered Valentine's night, cranberry juice and lots of ice.
He dressed simply in jeans and a casual sage green button-down, tucked in, top two buttons open, with his grandfather's silver watch on his wrist.
You'd agreed on 6pm. He was ready at 5, and sat waiting on the couch, one leg rapidly bouncing almost as fast as his thoughts.
He hadn't been on a first date since he was 17, when he met Lori in senior year. They stayed together through college, got married immediately after graduation, and had Carl a year later. He never thought there would be another first date.
He'd also never slept with anyone else. Lori was his one and only, and, he thought, his forever. Not that he presumed you'd have sex with him that night, but the possibility crossed his mind.
He was just a boy when he fell in love and started a family. Now he was a man starting over again. He just hoped he was good enough for an adult relationship.
He jumped when the doorbell rang at 5:30. Whoever it was, on the cusp of your arrival, could go the fuck away, toot sweet. But only you stood at his door, looking nervous but lovely through the glass. Hair down fully, cascading around your shoulders, covered in a thin lavender sweater over a white summer dress, beige leather purse strap on one side. He pulled the door handle, then remembered it was locked, and fumbled to unlock it. You both laughed at the awkwardness, knowing both of your hearts were pounding out of your chests in anticipation, only for a Goddamned inanimate object to ruin whatever exterior cool he had managed.
You twisted your hands together as he opened the door and paused before stepping in, his sweeping arm welcoming you.
"New door?" You teased as your heels clicked on the hardwood floor in the hallway.
Rick laughed. "Uhh, old, actually. It sticks, it's broken, need a new lock. I'm just gonna throw the whole thing out and start again," he joked.
"Good idea," you agreed. "Fresh start."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders.
"Is it ok that I'm early?" You asked.
"Yeah, yeah, of course," he reassured you. "You look… beautiful."
He was right. You'd bloomed throughout the year, and not just because of what you wore in clothes or makeup or how you let your hair fly. Your smiles reached your eyes. You laughed louder and freer, untamed instead of timid. You inspired him.
"Thank you," you sighed happily, appreciative of the sincere compliment. You turned to look at his sheriff's hat right next to you, resting on the hook near the doorway into the bright living room. You lifted it, then placed it on your own head with one hand, coyly batting your eyelashes at him from beneath the brim.
"Does it suit me?"
You couldn't maintain the facade, your voice breaking into desperate vulnerability at the end, tired of playing it cool.
You pushed the hat to the floor, dropped your bag, and let Rick catch you as you both collided together. He held your face to capture your lips and you clung to the sides of his shirt. You hungrily opened up to each other as you tripped over each other's feet on your way over to the sofa. Rick sat in the middle and pulled you onto his lap to straddle him. You gasped against his mouth when his already prominent, solid bulge pressed against your center. You pulled back to look at him and tucked your hair behind your ear.
"Is this too soon?" You asked nervously.
He smiled and laughed. "Not soon enough."
You paced yourself and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and he sat forward to pull it off his arms. He pressed his hands flat against your back and pulled you closer, never breaking eye contact. His gaze overpowered you but you couldn't look away. His blazing blue eyes filled with revelation that he couldn't contain anymore.
"It's been so long," he exhaled, as if coming up for air after years underwater. "Even before she left… I can't remember the last time anyone's touched me. Held me close. Just like this."
"I've wanted to do this all year," you admitted.
You rubbed his smooth, bare shoulders and he buried his face in your neck, inhaling your affection. He began tenderly trailing kisses up towards your face, then ravenously recaptured your lips. He had to stop, gasping for air, when you grinded down on his lap. You pushed him back into the cushions and watched his Adam's apple bob and his chest heave. You pulled your open sweater off your arms and reached back to unzip your dress. He rubbed his hands up your outer thighs, over your hips, and up your bare back to help you pull the white eyelet cotton over your head. The firm peaks of your full breasts strained through your white lace bra cups. Rick stared with lust-blown pupils, a watering mouth, a thirst that only your body could quench after months in the desert.
"I want to know you," he said, his voice heavy with tender emotion. "I want to be with you."
"I want to make you happy, Rick."
"You already have. Just knowing you. Seeing you smile every week. Knowing how good you've been to my son, and to me. Giving me something to look forward to again."
You rubbed his arms to push them down as your smile turned seductive.
"Just you wait," you whispered as you slid back off his lap and kneeled before him.
He gulped in disbelief. "You don't have- -"
"I want to," you insisted. "He broke me. But I feel like being around you helped put me back together. I've wanted you so badly for so long. Let me show you."
He nodded and braced himself internally as you undid his double belt loops. It had been an even longer time since Rick had experienced this as well. His painfully hard cock erupted from the lowered zipper, his cotton boxers struggling to contain it. You lowered your face to it and kissed it through the hot fabric. Rick moaned at the affection and stimulating start and patted your hair. You parted the opening and freed him, then began by licking all the way up the underside.
"Ah, oh God, oh… God," Rick gasped. The sight of your tongue running along the length brought tears to his eyes. When your lips enveloped the head and he watched his cock slowly disappear into your mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut and nearly wept. Your relentless tongue worked magic he couldn't even fathom existed. The tighter his fingers gripped your scalp, the faster you swirled. Rick's whole body spasmed through the pleasure until he felt himself getting too close and begged you to stop, but it was too late. He exploded into your mouth, and you had him crying out in pain as you suctioned and swallowed every drop.
Once his high ebbed he was afraid to open his eyes in shame, but when he did, you were rubbing his thighs and smiling.
"M'sorry," he huffed. You shook your head and tugged his jeans and boxers down.
"Don't be sorry. That's what I wanted," you said seductively.
You pushed your panties over your hips and down to your feet as you stood up, then sat sideways on Rick's lap.
He smiled gratefully and cradled your cheek.
"Thank you."
He kissed you deeply, barely tasting himself but not caring. He unclasped your bra, then watched as he pulled the front down, feeling his blood stirring again already as the lace slid off your stiffened buds. He cupped your breast and circled your nipple with his thumb. You closed your eyes, furrowed your brow, and moaned quietly as your arousal soaked his leg. You threw your head back when Rick took your other nipple in his mouth and let his hand roam down to your mound. You opened your legs and lifted one leg over his lap, then leaned back against him. He kissed and licked up to your neck and beneath your ear while sliding his fingers into your slickness.
"I'll return the favor," he whispered, then licked your earlobe.
"No," you cried, "Rub me. Please," You begged.
He held your left breast with his left hand and spread your lubrication over your clit with his right. He looked down to watch when he slid his fingers all the way into your opening and worked his thumb in circles around your engorged, sensitive nub. When he curled his fingers deep into the right spot, you wailed as your body contracted, then imploded. Your head fell towards him, spent, whimpering as you recovered. His wet fingers lifted your chin so he could tenderly kiss you. As you relaxed you felt his new erection beneath your upper thigh.
"Take me to bed," you said sweetly.
Rick smiled but hesitated. "I don't have any protection. Didn't think I'd need it this soon."
"You don't need it," you said, to his relief. "I knew we were going to end up like this sooner or later, and I wanted to be ready."
"Then hurry in there," Rick growled playfully as he pushed you up but didn't let you go.
"Lead me," you said.
He held your hips and walked you backwards across the hallway into his bedroom, then lowered you back onto the white quilt. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He reached between you and guided his tip to your entrance, gasping as your warmth welcomed his tip. He groaned harder the further into you he pushed, then stilled once he was fully buried. You whined as he dragged himself back out, then dug your nails into his flesh as he advanced again. You held each other close, not even a sliver of space between your bodies as he set a gentle rhythm. You licked his lips, setting off a deep kiss of dancing tongues, spurring your bodies faster, completely in sync. Your quiet moans grew higher and desperate when Rick bent his knees and began rolling his hips against you, driving his cock into a new spot, at a new angle, sending pleasure rippling through you. He brought an arm up to cradle your head, bewildered at the reality of your nakedness in body and heart, vowing to himself right then and there that he'd spend his life revering you.
His captivating eye contact pierced your soul, the dominating tenderness of a decent man overtaking you. You rubbed your hands over his shoulders, down his chest, and gripped his thrusting hips, reminding you both of your earthly connection and impending conclusion.
Rick leaned upright, pressed your inner thighs apart, and watched your bodies collide, agape and awestruck at the profane sight, sending him into a tailspin. The new slant had him driving directly into a devastating spot that you didn't even know existed in your own body, at an unrelenting speed. You lost time when you shattered around him, a continuous moan cathartically expelled before you fully collapsed beneath him.
As soon as Rick felt you clamp down around him, he lost all control, a man possessed, unaware of his fingers digging into your skin or how far back his head was bent as he shook the bed and howled at the ceiling as he burst inside of you.
He slumped down and bent forward, hovering over you with his eyes squeezed shut as his thoughts and awareness slowly returned. He shook himself and looked up to find you watching him with a tired smile. He took a deep breath and pulled you up, sat you on his lap, and wrapped his arms around you. He rubbed his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent, and rubbed the sweaty skin of your back. You locked your ankles behind his back, kissed the freckles on his shoulders, and finger-combed his short, dark curls. Calm settled over the two of you and comfort sealed your bond.
Eventually his legs needed a break from your weight and you both crawled up to his pillows, but stuck close together. He leaned on one side but hovered over you, brushing your temple with his fingertips, leaving light kisses on your smiling lips, unable to believe you were there, or that he felt joy again in life.
"What just happened?" He burst out laughing, unable to contain his mirth.
"I threw myself at you," you smiled confidently.
"And I caught you," Rick beamed.
"Yes you did, Sheriff. And you… made me feel something - twice - that used to barely happen once. And never without, you know, help."
"Really now?" Rick raised one eyebrow, his pride swelling now.
"Yes, really," you confirmed truthfully and played absent-mindedly with his chest hairs. "It used to take him a long time and a lot of work to get me there. Turns out, it wasn't my fault!" You declared triumphantly.
"Nope, sure wasn't!"
"Well, he's the only person I've ever been with, so I didn't have anything to go on."
Rick felt a familiar pang at your similarities.
"Did you… feel like all of it was your fault?" He asked hesitantly.
You nodded. "Yeah. But it wasn't. I know that now. It can't be just one person's fault when there are two people. I'm not perfect, but I didn't deserve that."
"No, you didn't."
"You didn't either, you know," you gently reminded him.
He lowered his gaze but nodded. "I always felt like… like I couldn't do anything right. I'm not perfect either, and I see plenty of things I coulda done differently. But she once told me she felt the same way, about herself, with me. I think, truth is, we just couldn't do it right together."
"Will you try again with me?" You asked sweetly.
He looked back up at you, comforted yet excited. "If you'll have me?"
Before you could seal it was a kiss, the doorbell rang.
"Oh, sh- - the pizza," Rick remembered, and rolled over to find his clothes. You enjoyed watching him dress half-hazardly, shirt not even buttoned, then run for the door. Thankfully he'd paid over the phone so he could just take the box and pray the teenage delivery boy didn't recognize him and gossip to his boss.
He set the box on the kitchen table and went back into the bedroom to find you. At some point you'd snuck out to the hallway and snagged his Sheriff's hat. You stood totally naked but wearing the hat, your back turned to him as you admired yourself in the mirror above his dresser. You smiled at him in the mirror.
"You never told me how I look in this?" You said coyly.
Rick had never dropped his pants so fast. He pulled you back to the bed where he held your hips as you straddled him.
"Keep it on," he said as you sank down onto him.
Eventually he reheated the pizza and the two of you ate at the table, in just enough clothing to be civilized. You shared stories of your lives in the past, and what you both wanted for the future - a relationship in which you didn't doubt yourself, with a partner you could trust.
You stayed the night, at his invitation.
By the time school started again you'd moved in, also at his invitation.
When the year finished, you and Rick were married, at the courthouse, with only Carl in attendance. No other invitations necessary.
Every Sunday night, you made lesson plans while Rick ironed his uniforms. Every morning after he grabbed his hat off the hook, he hoped he'd come home to find you wearing only the duplicate hat you'd bought online. But as an old-fashioned man with simple needs, just having you in his house and his life was more than enough.
Thank you for reading! And I've got even more Rick in the works, so stick around.
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The wifi at school went down so guess who did nothing for the rest of the afternoon???
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yoogoyvault · 2 years
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hotdogdynamitezzz · 1 year
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Your Fashion and Style Guide
Pt.1
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Part 2 (Libra - Pisces) Here
Use your Rising & Venus sign!
Aries:
Prioritizes comfort but doesn't compromise for their fashion style
Absolutely rocks streetwear & athleisure
Prefers sporty fits the most!
Looks best in red & black clothing
Their style always has some sort of edge to it
Big on grunge and vintage rockband t shirts
They love combat boots and they generally prefer flame or camo print clothes
This sounds odd but they kinda remind me of a racecar aesthetic?
Very Sharp with their fashion choices
They look great in leather jackets
A bold colour paired with a neutral for a high contrast look suit them best
They love the rockstar or baddie aesthetic
Looks ~
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Taurus:
They have three modes, classy bitches, edgy e-girls & bohemian botanical.
But generally, I see classy and soft the most
Green, Brown, Beige, White, Black, Pink & Red for sensuality.
They love wearing neutrals but they often mix it up with some colour now and again
They usually have some sort of special necklace
A fan of pearls because it's classic
But diamonds are their best friends too ofc
Fuzzy & Fluffy cardigans or sweaters have their heart, especially the white and brown colours
They are into floral and flannel patterns
Their favorite colour options are brown & pink or white & pink 🕊💕
They usually dress more modest but make it look high fashion
They usually like to incorporate silk or a corset into their outfit, being ruled by venus makes them into a sensual and seductive look
Generally they favour comfortable fabrics and silk
Looks ~
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Gemini:
I noticed they don't really like dark colours and generally prefer brighter neutrals or colours
They like off-the-shoulder, cold shoulder, cutout tops & cool designs on their shirts whether its long sleeve or not
They choose tops based on the arm style such as balloon sleeves or cutouts
Asymmetrical styles suit them best
Colors are white, bright pinks, and green.
Earrings & Bracelets are their favorite accessories
They like a fairy aesthetic, something that feels whimsical
Likes to switch between feminine and masculine clothing frequently
Very experimental with their clothes
Looks ~
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Cancer:
Either soft and girly or moody and dark!
They prefer to keep it modest unless showing off their chest
Their choice of jewelry are pearl necklaces
The shoes they tend to favour are chunky block heels & sandals
Prefers blue, pink & white or black
Soft and flowy clothes like cardigans or kimonos
Knee high socks + sweater dresses look great
They love sweetheart necklines
Into crop tops! Usually silk crops
They like to pair tight clothes with a flowy jacket! Especially if it has a pop of colour
Overall style changes depending on how they're feeling that day
Looks ~
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Leo:
Everytime I looked up a Leo rising celebrity that were ALWAYS wearing sunglasses
A fan of sunhats too!
Anything bright & metallic suit them perfectly
They look lavish in silky and shiny materials
They tend to wear fur coats
They like long and sturdy coats in general!
Usually they own big statement jewelry
Everything looks shiny tbh especially their hair.
Sparkly clothes & sequins are their weakness
They could rock sundresses
They look great in animal print, specifically cheetah or leopard.
Bold fashion is their go-to
Even if they wear neutral colours they make sure the texture stands out
Jumpsuits were really popular among them! I think they like to look playful but glamorous at the same time
They will not leave the house unless they look ready for a fashion show lol
Their motive is to standout and turn heads.
Looks ~
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Virgo:
Less is more for them
They like simple t-shirts with cute mottos like "be kind" or some shit that HAS to be written in small font or they won't wear it LOL
A Preppy Style & Sweater Vests are their thing
So is gingham print
They rock high-fashion looks
Fake glasses are a cute trend they look good in
A big fan of trench coats and cardigans
They prefer a business casual look
They prefer earthy tones & greens.
They are all about the simplicity in versatility! For instance they usually like black jeans and a white top but the top can be a tube top or a halter top based on what they want that day
They LOVE BLAZERS
Very picky about fashion, I find super bright colors often turn them away
Quality > Quantity for them
A lot of them look great in crop tops, or waist accentuating clothing like kim k is known for
Watches are usually a staple item they prefer
Looks ~
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coquette-club · 2 months
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A Guide to Bubblegum Coquette
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Bubblegum Coquette is the ultra girly sugary sweet subcategory of coquette. The 2010s iteration took much inspiration from the 80s: loves baby soft, molly ringwald and teen witch reigned supreme. But as time has gone on it has gone to include influences from gyaru fashion, 90s and early 00s mcbling, sanrio and playboy. 
This style is an effortless blend of childhood nostalgia and girlish sexuality.
Color Palette
Pastels: pinks, blues and purples are the most popular with pink unsurprisingly reigning supreme
Other vibrant colors you may see are orange and yellow (often paired with pink) anything candy colored and vibrant is key to the bubblegum coquette look
Patterns and Details
Bubblegum Coquette doesn't include many patterns but that doesn't mean you cant wear them. Polka dots and animal print like zebra or cheetah/leopard can be added for some extra flourish.
Tops
Baby tees are normally the go-to. They don't have to be completely cropped, just in a more form fitting design. Look for vintage graphic tee's with brands like blow pops, love's baby soft or johnson's & johnson's. Old school cartoons are also super cute especially those from the 80s like Jem and the Holograms.
For non graphic tee's tube tops are great during the summer as well as halter tops especially crochet.
For a more modest look or during colder months go for long sleeve thermals or sweaters in the aforementioned colors, and if you can/want to add a little flare go for an off the shoulder top.
Bottoms
For jeans, look for true flare or bootcut jeans if you prefer a looser fit. But if you want to go full 2010s does 80s bubblegum coquette throwback, instead look for pastel skinny jeans.
Denim skirts are a staple, add some shine to them by bedazzling them in rhinestones on the pockets in your fav designs! Ruffle skirts are also an amazing item to have.
Look for matching tracksuits in both the skirt and jogging pants varieties especially baby phat, rocawear or juicy couture.
High waisted shorts as well!! Those are great for a throwback look (try to find a pair of yellow smiley face ones, trust me) but if you dont like that cut, go for mid to lowrise shorts. Keep the wash mid to light wash or in pastel colors.
Hosiery
Knee high socks and slouch socks are a must. Keep them in pastel or just go for a plain white. It's also good to have at least two pairs of regular tights (white and baby pink).
For an edgier look, go for white or baby pink fishnets.
Dresses
Go for tube top dresses or babydoll dresses. Keep them dainty and cute in the standard colors. You can keep these simple as the accessories really do it. Halter dresses are also great for the summer.
Shoes
Believe it or not bubblegum coquette was arguably the simplest when it came to shoes, sticking to high top converse in pink, white and yellow and the occasional jelly shoe. You can also include platform flip flops into the mix, but bubble gum coquettes are always very active and energetic girls so keep the shoes comfy.
Accessories
The kitschier the better! Hot topic has fun and girly earrings and necklaces. And always hit up Claire's for your ultra girly accessories, always keep a tattoo choker (bonus points if its ombre or has different charms!)
Speaking of charms, charm bracelets or friendship bracelets you attach charms to are always cute.
Mini purses and backpacks are perfect for going between more dressy occasions to everyday running around.
Makeup
Keep the eyes open and bright with lots of mascara. Sparkle/shimmer eyeshadow and eyeshadow in pastel colors are also a fun touch. Brown eyeliner is less harsh than black but that doesnt mean you cant wear black liner! Look for nude (or white) liner for the waterline. Pink also looks cute on the waterline.
Keep lips and cheeks pink/coral/orange depending on your skin and its undertones. The glossier the better for the lips! But soft blurred lips like those provided from korean makeup never looks bad.
Fragrances
Keep it sweet, fruity and a little fresh. You can always go for the bubblegum coquette classic Pink Sugar, but scents like Clinique Happy Heart, Victoria's Secret Bombshell also smell amazing. My favorite budget option is Vera Wang Princess its fresh and fruity with a little chocolate undertone. And don't forget the bubblegum coquette staple Love's Baby Soft
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