#author: Blue Stiletto

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[v6quewrlds]

❝ borderline, j. burrow & t. higgins. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: working in and around the nfl for years, there aren't many people in the league who can knock you off your game. by some twist of fate, two of them show up together, hoping to lure you into their orbit.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: as requested by an anon <3 pls don't read if you're uncomfortable with this concept. didn't really know how to end this one so it's ambiguous lmao did this lowkey give me an idea for a pt 2? maybe. joe calls reader "sweetheart", tee calls reader "baby".

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends to lovers (?) the plural is intentional, threesome, fingering, eiffel tower but not really, blowjob, face fucking, cum eating, facial, somewhat dom!joe, switch!tee, pre-meditated threesome if you squint, praise kink.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x reader x tee higgins.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.8k.

You walked through the grand hotel lobby, your stilettos clicking against the marble floor. Your emerald green dress clung to your body like a glove, drawing the occasional admiring glance. You had looked forward to this wedding the entire season, eager to see your favorite players and closest friends all congregated in one place. As a sports journalist, you had become accustomed to the glitz and glamour of high-profile events, but this one felt different. It was personal.

The reception area was a flurry of activity as guests mingled and waitstaff glided around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and sparkling drinks. The scent of expensive perfumes and cologne hung in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of roasting meat from the nearby dining hall.

You spotted your close friend Bree chatting with a few other guests, her eyes lighting up when she caught sight of you. Bree waved you over, gesturing to the table you had been assigned. To your surprise, Joe Burrow and Tee Higgins, two of the Cincinnati Bengals' star players, were already seated at the table, sipping on their drinks and looking dapper in their tuxedos.

"Hey, y'all," you greeted them with a bright smile, placing your clutch on the table. "I didn't know you two were close to Amber and Dan."

Joe's smile was warm, but his sarcasm was as sharp as ever, his eyes crinkling as he took a sip of his whiskey. "To be honest, I'm not sure why I was invited. Maybe they felt sorry for me because I don't get out much." The admission drew chuckles from the rest of the table, but you knew him well enough to detect the hint of self-deprecating playfulness in his voice.

Tee spoke up next, his signature soft-spoken confidence unwavering even amidst the buzz of the crowded room. "I've known Amber since college, actually. Her sister dated my roommate." He leaned back in his seat, a glass of champagne in hand, his eyes lingering on your face as he took a sip. "You close with Daniel?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of pride as you thought of your career achievements. "Yeah, I've had some pretty memorable interviews with him. The sit-down I did with him after his knee injury helped me land my gig on First Take." You took a sip of your own drink, the cool liquid doing little to quell the heat rising in your cheeks as you weathered the intense gazes of the two athletes.

"How sweet," Joe said with a smirk, raising his glass of whiskey in a mock toast. "Is that why you swore he was league MVP last season?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. "Okay, okay, I might have been a bit biased. But I owed him for that interview," you took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid sliding down your throat, your eyes dancing with mischief. "Were you jealous?"

Joe's smirk grew wider, his blue eyes flickered over to Tee's brown ones before moving back to find yours. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his hand landing casually on your thigh, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. You felt the heat rising from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.

As if sensing it was his turn to flirt with you, Tee leaned closer, his hand ghosting against your shoulder as it fell over the back of your chair. "How's First Take going for you? Still holding your own against Stephen A?" His voice was a smooth rumble, and you couldn't help but smile, the tension easing a bit.

"I defended you guys last week, you know," you said with a smirk, swirling the ice in your drink. "Told him you're both underappreciated."

Joe's eyes lit up. "You did?" His hand fell heavier around your thigh as Tee's fingers traced lazy circles into your exposed skin, the warmth of their body heat seeping into your very soul. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

The words left his mouth casually, but you felt a flutter in your stomach. Tee's accompanying laugh did little to ease the tension that had suddenly thickened the air around the three of you.

The conversation grew more intimate, their touches lingering longer, the air around you crackling with unspoken desires. You felt the weight of their gazes on you, the way they studied your every move, every breath. It was like being the star of their own private show, and you found yourself playing up to their attention, your laughs a little louder, your movements a little more exaggerated.

Bree had long disappeared into the crowded dance floor, leaving you alone with Joe and Tee. Your conversation grew quieter, and more intimate, as you shared stories of your lives outside of football. You felt a strange connection with the two men, a bond that extended beyond the superficial. You tried your best to ignore the heat building between your legs as Joe's fingers traced patterns into your bare skin. Tee's thumb pressing into the pressure point at the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The music grew louder, the rhythm pulsing through the floor and into your bodies. The lights grew dimmer, casting a seductive glow over the three of you. You found yourself leaning into Tee's touch, your eyes locked onto Joe's as he spoke about his most recent charity event for his foundation. His words cast a sharp contrast with the deep, soothing, seduction of his voice.

The conversation grew more flirty, Joe's hand sliding further up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. You gasped, trying to keep your cool, but the heat of his touch was like a brand on your skin. Tee noticed your reaction and leaned in, whispering something to Joe that made his eyes darken with desire.

"You good?" Tee asked, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. You nodded, your voice a little shaky. "Yeah, I'm okay." But you weren't okay; your nerves were on fire, the anticipation building like a storm in your chest.

The tension at the table grew so thick it was almost tangible, your eyes speaking volumes in the dimly lit room. When Joe leaned in closer, his breath a warm caress against your neck, you couldn't resist anymore. You turned to him, your eyes asking him a silent question, unwilling to potentially tip off a noisy guest to your newfound chemistry. Tee watched, his own desire evident in the way he licked his lips, his hand moving from your neck to squeeze your other thigh.

Recognizing the confirmation in Joe's eyes, your head turned to look at Tee, the same question in your eyes. He answered it with a smoldering gaze that left no room for doubt. "Come with us," he murmured, his voice a seductive invitation that sent a thrill through your body.

The three of you stood as one, the two men flanking your sides like bodyguards, guiding you through the sea of wedding guests. The music grew louder, the rhythm beckoning you to the dance floor, but you had other plans. Your heart raced as Joe's hand slid down your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your ass, while the back of Tee's hand brushed against yours. The electricity between you was undeniable, a current that could light up the entire hotel.

The three of you moved through the crowd, the warmth of your bodies pressing together, the heat of your desire almost too much to handle. When you reached the elevator, the tension was unbearable. Joe's hands pulled your back flush against his chest, making you gasp as his strong hands wandered across the material of your dress. Tee stood in front of you, his hand tipping your head back as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was anything but casual. The doors closed, and the world outside was forgotten.

The elevator ride was a blur of hands and lips, the three of you exploring each other's bodies like you had been waiting for this moment your entire lives. Your dress was hiked up, Joe's hand slipping under your panties to feel the wetness that had pooled there. Tee's hand found your breasts, kneading them gently as Joe whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The ding of the elevator arriving at Tee's floor brought you back to reality with a jolt. You stumbled out into the hallway, breathless and desperate.

Tee fumbled with the keycard, the anticipation almost too much to bear. You giggled as Joe muttered low and bitter under his breath, "Take your time, buddy."

The door finally clicked open, and the three of you tumbled into the room, a whirlwind of lust and passion. The lights were dimmed, casting a seductive glow across the plush king-sized bed. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the two men, both so powerful on the field, look at you with a hunger you hadn't seen before.

Joe took the lead, his eyes dark with desire as he approached you, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you against his firm chest. His kiss was demanding, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could taste your thoughts, your fears, your desires. Tee's hands were on your shoulders, pushing the dress down your arms, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air. You gasped as Joe's mouth moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as his hands found your nipples, ghosting his fingertips over the peaks.

"Hold on," you said, placing a hand on Joe's wrist to still his movements. You took a deep breath, your eyes searching theirs for any sign of doubt. "Are you two sure that if I do this, there won't be some blonde chick harassing me on Instagram afterward?"

"You know we don't do drama. That's the last thing we need before the season," Joe assured you, his hands sliding up your arms to cup your shoulders. "We're just here to have a good time." His voice was a low purr, his gaze intense.

Tee stepped closer to you, a tattooed hand reaching up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "We promise, baby," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust. "This is just about us, right here, right now."

You searched their eyes, the room spinning with a mix of excitement and trepidation. You nodded slowly before speaking up again, "Okay, no pics, no videos, and this stays between the three of us. Agreed?"

"Scout's honor," Joe murmured, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you closer.

Tee leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. The room felt electrified as your body responded instinctively, your hands moving to rest on his broad chest. You could feel Joe's erection pressing against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he watched the exchange. The heat of their bodies, the scent of your desire, and the promise of what was to come washed over you like a wave.

"You guys are playing with fire," you murmured against Tee's mouth, but the smirk that played on his lips told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He broke the kiss, a knowing look passing between the two men. You gasped, pushing back against Joe as his hands found your tits, his palms squeezing them roughly, thumbs brushing against your nipples through the fabric of your dress.

"We know," Joe whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "But sometimes, you've gotta risk getting burned." His hand slipped down to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, inch by torturous inch. The cool air of the room hit your bare back, making your skin pebble with goosebumps.

Tee stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to unbutton his shirt, his muscles rippling with every movement. You felt a rush of arousal as he revealed his sculpted chest, the ink on his skin telling a story of strength and resilience. He slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and you couldn't help but bite your lips in anticipation.

"You're so fuckin' sexy," Joe murmured, his hand slipping into your hair as he pulled you in for another kiss. You moaned into his mouth, feeling Tee's hands on your hips as he turned you to face him. The two men moved around you like a perfectly choreographed dance, each touch setting your skin on fire.

The two men took turns kissing you, each one's touch different yet equally electrifying. Joe's kisses were demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that made your legs tremble. Tee's were soft and gentle, his lips brushing yours in a way that made you feel cherished. Your hands roamed over their broad chests, feeling the firmness of their muscles beneath the warm skin.

Tee stepped away, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. "Damn, baby," he breathed, reaching out to trace the curves of your breasts. His thumbs brushed against your nipples, making them peak. Joe's hands slid down your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall away. The cool air made you gasp, your breasts bouncing slightly as you were exposed to them in nothing but the flimsy excuse for panties you had chosen for the night.

The tension in the room was thick, the anticipation almost a tangible force. You felt their eyes on you, the weight of their desire a heavy presence that made your knees weak. You stepped out of your heels, the impact of your bare feet on the carpeted floor leaving the football players towering over you.

"Get on the bed," Tee murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, your legs feeling like jelly as you crawled onto the plush mattress. As you sat, perched and pretty, on the comforter, Joe began to undress, allowing Tee to make the first move.

Tee's eyes never left yours as he approached, his tuxedo jacket tossed aside and his bow tie undone. His large, strong hands reached for you, gripping your ankles and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You felt the heat from his body as he leaned in, his warm breath fanning your face as he whispered, "You're so fucking beautiful."

His words sent a shiver through you as he pushed your thighs apart, revealing your damp panties. Joe stepped closer, his own pants undone, his erection straining against his boxer briefs. He reached out, sliding one finger along the lacy fabric before hooking his thumbs into the waistband and pulling them to the side, exposing you to their hungry gazes.

"Goddamn," Tee whispered, his eyes locked on your nakedness. Joe's dick grew harder in his briefs as he watched his friend's reaction, his own desire mirrored in the tightness of Tee's jaw. Your heart was racing, your chest rising and falling with anticipation. You felt a thrill run through you as you watched their reactions, your own anticipation reaching a fever pitch.

"Prettiest pussy you've ever seen, huh?" Joe said with a smirk, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your bare skin. Tee nodded, unable to form coherent words as he stared.

You felt a warmth creep up your neck as you both took a moment to appreciate your body. You had always felt confident in your own skin, but the raw, carnivorous hunger in their expressions was something you had never experienced before. It was like they were really seeing you for the first time, and the thought of being desired by two such powerful, successful men was a heady aphrodisiac.

The room grew quiet, and the only sound was the rustle of clothes being removed. Your breathing grew shallow as Joe knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly peeled off your panties. Tee sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over your exposed flesh with a look that made you quiver with anticipation. You could see his cock, thick and hard, straining against his boxers.

"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your thigh. He placed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. Tee leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hand moving to cup your breast. You felt like you were in a dream, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in as Joe's tongue found your clit.

Their touches grew more urgent, more demanding, as they worked in tandem to bring you to the edge. Your hips began to rock, your body responding instinctively to the sensations they were creating. You felt Joe's hand slip between your legs, his fingers teasing your folds before sliding inside you, the feel of his thick digits stretching you and setting your body alight. Tee's mouth found yours, a heavy hand reaching to squeeze at the sides of your neck, your moans muffled by his kisses.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Joe's thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the expertise of a maestro conducting an orchestra of pleasure. Tee's tongue danced with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You felt yourself spiraling closer to the precipice, your body tightening around Joe's hand.

The room was a whirlwind of sensations: the scent of their cologne, the sound of fabric shifting, the feel of Joe's calloused hands on your skin. It was almost too much, and you were lost in a haze of pleasure when Tee broke away, leaving you gasping for air.

"Gonna come, baby?" Tee's question was a breathy murmur in your ear, his hand moving from your neck to cup your cheek as he watched your face contort with pleasure. You could only nod, unable to form words as Joe's fingers worked their magic.

Your eyes locked onto Tee's above you as you felt Joe's thumb press down hard on your clit, your body arching off the bed as your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you in an explosion of color and sensation. You moaned weakly, your pussy clenching around Joe's hand as you rode the peak, your nails digging into the mattress.

When you finally came down, Joe withdrew his hand, a smug smile on his face. As if sharing a sense of telepathy, the two men stood up simultaneously to remove their boxers, revealing their generous lengths. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight, your heart racing with excitement and nerves.

"Make some room for me," Tee said with a mischievous smile, sliding onto the bed behind you as you sat up. His hand traveled down your body, his thumb brushing the swollen bud of your clit before sliding two fingers inside you. You gasped as he began to pump them in and out, his touch gentle yet firm.

Joe, who had stepped up to the edge of the bed, watched with darkened eyes as Tee worked his magic. He nodded towards Tee's lap as your eyes fluttered open. "You gonna get on top, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. You licked your lips, nodding eagerly.

With a smile, you shuffled over to Tee, your eyes meeting his hooded browns. You straddled Tee's thighs, feeling his hardness beneath you. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you, his breathing heavy, before he leaned up and kissed you again, his tongue dancing with yours. You could feel Joe's eyes on the two of you, his gaze burning into your skin as you reached down to stroke Tee's dick before sinking down on it with a moan.

The feel of him filling you sent you both spiraling and you had to bite back a scream as you adjusted to his size. Tee's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you began to ride him. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with your moans and gasps for air. You leaned back into Joe as he slotted behind you, his hands pressing blistering heat into your skin as he kissed your neck and whispered encouragement into your ear.

Tee pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes hooded with desire as he watched you take him in. He reached up, his hands finding your tits, and began to tease your nipples as you rode him. The sight of you bouncing on his dick, your pussy squeezing him with every move, had him on the edge of his seat, quite literally. You threw your head back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moaned out Tee's name, feeling the heat of Joe's chest against your back.

Joe's hands began to wander, caressing your body as you moved in rhythm with Tee. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles that had your pussy spasming around Tee's cock. Your moans grew louder, your body moving faster as Joe's touch grew more insistent. You felt Tee's cock thicken inside you, and you knew he was close.

"Fuck, Joe, you seein' this shit?" Tee's voice was strained, his eyes glazed with pleasure as he watched your body take his length. Joe's only response was a low, feral growl as he continued to tease your clit.

"Perfect fuckin' fit," Joe murmured, his own arousal clear as he lazily stroked himself in time with your rhythm.

Your breathing grew shallow, your eyes locked onto Tee's. You felt Joe's breath against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his fingers worked their magic. "I'm gonna cum," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

"Again?" Tee teased, brown eyes glittering with excitement as he watched your body tense with the approaching wave of pleasure. "I ain't complaining, but you're gonna wear me out." Your face grew hot as you felt the dual pressure of Tee inside you and Joe's thumb on your clit, pushing you to the edge.

"I can't help it," you panted, "you two are just too much."

Joe's chuckle was a dark promise against your ear. "We're just getting to the good part," he half promised, half teased, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

The room was a whirlwind of sensation: the slick slide of skin, the scent of arousal, the heat of two men surrounding you. Finally, you threw your head back again, your dark hair fanning out against Joe's pale shoulder as you came, your pussy clamping down on Tee's cock.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the orgasm ripped through you, drawn out by the feel of both Joe and Tee's hands on you. You barely registered Tee's cock slipping away from your heat, chuckling darkly as Joe watched your body spasm with pleasure. The quarterback muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck me," and you felt a shyness creep over your cheeks, even in the throes of passion.

"Stand up for me, sweetheart," Joe finally murmured, his voice thick with desire. You complied, your legs shaky as Joe helped you to your feet. Tee leaned back on his elbows, his cock still throbbing against his stomach, glistening with your combined arousal.

Joe's hands slid around your waist, positioning you to face Tee. He whispered in her ear, "Suck his cock, baby. Make him feel good."

Your eyes widened, but the desire in Joe's voice and the way Tee's eyes lit up at the suggestion made your body respond immediately. You leaned over the edge of the bed as Tee scooted backward to allow room for your chest to rest on the sheets between his spread legs. Carefully, Tee swept your hair up into a crude ponytail, giving him an unobstructed view of your beautiful brown skin and the way your back arched with anticipation.

Your mouth hovered over Tee's cock, your breath warm against the sensitive flesh. His hands tangled in your hair, guiding you down as you took him in. Your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked him in deep, your eyes closing delicately as you moaned around the taste of your arousal coating his length.

Joe's hand trailed over your skin to squeeze at your ass, sliding his cock to nestle in your warm pearl. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he murmured, his voice a gruff rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned around Tee's cock, the vibrations making him twitch with pleasure. Tee's grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as he guided your head up and down his length, his eyes tracing over your blissed-out expression.

Your bodies moved in harmony, a symphony of passion and desire that had been building since you first set eyes on each other that evening. The room was a whirlwind of sensations - Joe's calloused fingers digging into your skin, Tee's cock sliding in and out of your mouth, and the smell of your combined arousal. You felt like you were floating, weightless and free, as you gave in to the moment.

With a surge of energy, you lifted from Tee's dick, swirling your tongue around his mushroom tip with a self-indulgent smile. Joe's eyes lit up as he watched you, his own arousal evident as he continued thrusting into you. Tee's chest heaved as he took in the sight of you, his abs clenching with the effort to hold back.

"What the fuck?" Tee's eyes went wide with shock and arousal as he watched your teeth graze lightly over the most sensitive part of him, your eyes all innocent and pure as you gazed up at him. He didn't know what was happening, but his body was definitely on board. Your tongue flicked out, licking up the precum that beaded at the tip of his cock, making him grit his teeth in an attempt to keep from coming too soon.

Joe's breath was hot against your neck as he whispered, "Take him all the way in, baby," his hands on your hips pushing you down slightly. You obeyed, taking Tee deep into your mouth, the sound of your wetness as Joe fucked you from behind echoing through the room.

The sensation was overwhelming, the taste of Tee combined with the feeling of Joe's cock deep inside you making you moan around the head of Tee's dick. The vibrations sent his bottom lip between his teeth, his head dipping back with a strangled groan, nostrils flaring with concentration. You felt Joe's grip tighten, his thrusts growing more erratic as he approached his own climax. Tee's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your pussy clench around Joe's cock.

"Fuck," Tee hissed as your head bobbed up and down, your cheeks hollowing with each suck. The sight of your full lips stretched around his length and Joe's hand guiding you was more than he could handle. His own hand tightened in your hair, his hips jerking involuntarily.

"So good," you moaned around Tee's cock, your body trembling with the force of Joe's thrusts. Your third orgasm was building, a storm gathering on the horizon, ready to unleash its fury at any moment. Tee's hand stroked your cheek, the sweetness of his touch a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic need driving Joe.

"Good girl," Joe groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he watched you take Tee's cock deeper into your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, your body begging for release. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen," the quarterback whispered, his voice thick with lust.

Tee's eyes rolled back, lost in the pleasure of your mouth. His hand on the back of your head grew more insistent, his hips bucking slightly as he approached climax. Your eyes watered, but you didn't pull away, your own pleasure building with every gag and moan you muffled around Tee's dick.

"Oh, shit," he moaned, his voice a deep, guttural sound that sent another shiver down your spine. You felt Joe's cock thicken even more inside you, his hips stuttering as he fought to hold back.

"Bet she dreamed about this, Tee," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. You felt Tee's cock twitch in your mouth at the words, his eyes dark with desire.

"I know she did. Drooling all over my dick like this. Lookin' all pretty," Tee chuckled, his voice strained with arousal.

With that, Joe took over once again. He pulled you off Tee's cock, laughing out loud as his wide receiver shot him a sour look. "Joe," he groaned holding his hands up in protest, but Joe was having none of it.

You felt the warmth of Joe's breath on your neck as he leaned in to whisper, "Gonna look so much prettier with his cum all over your pretty face, gorgeous."

The thought sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you moaned out loud, closing your eyes as you tried to will yourself to hold off on your burgeoning orgasm. Tee's eyes widened as he caught onto Joe's words, a devious smirk playing on his lips.

The tension in the room grew palpable as Tee's hand on the back of your head grew firmer, guiding your movements. You felt his cock swell, the veins pulsing against your tongue. Your eyes watered as you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his shaft. The feeling of being used so thoroughly, by two men who had you pinned and writhing with pleasure, was intoxicating.

"Open that pretty mouth for me, baby," Tee urged softly, his voice thick with lust. You complied, presenting your tongue as Tee's cock slid out of your mouth, leaving a trail of precum. You watched as he stroked himself, his hand moving fast and sure.

"God, you're so fucking sexy," Joe murmured, his eyes locked onto the scene before him. You could feel his breath on your neck, his own arousal leaking into you. The anticipation was unbearable, the room seemingly closing in on you as Tee's strokes grew faster. You felt Joe's hand come down to rest on your lower back, hips stilling as Tee approached his climax.

"Gonna paint that pretty face, baby," Tee warned you, his voice tight with restraint. You nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the first warm spurt of cum hit your cheek, sliding down to your chin. Tee groaned, his hand moving in fast jerks as he coated you in his release. When he was done, you opened your eyes to find Joe watching you, his own desire clear.

Joe's hand moved from your back to your face, his thumb brushing over your cum-covered cheek. "Taste it," he instructed, his voice a seductive growl. You obeyed, your kiss-swollen lips wrapping around the pad of his thumb, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, feeling the stickiness of Tee's release on your skin.

"You fuckin' liked that, didn't you?" Tee's voice was filled with a mix of pride and satisfaction as he watched you lick his cum off Joe's thumb. Your eyes sparkled with amusement as you nodded, a giggle bubbling out of you. The room was thick with the scent of your combined arousal, your hearts pounding in sync with the pulsing beat of the bass from the party below.

Joe's smile grew wicked. His grip on your hips tightened, his dick still buried deep inside you as he began to move again, slowly at first. You fully moaned out, any shyness completely forgotten as you felt Joe twitch inside you. The power play between them had you more turned on than you'd ever been.

Tee laughed as he finally began to recover from his orgasm. "Go 'head, baby, make Joey cum. I think he worked hard for it." He winked at you, who rolled your eyes playfully. The room was thick with lust, your heavy breathing echoing off the walls.

Joe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Think he's right, sweetheart?" he questioned, his voice low and rough. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him begin to move again, his strokes deep and deliberate. You moaned around the taste of Tee's cum, the sound muffled by your head falling into the sheets.

"Fuck, yes," you managed to murmur, your hips rocking back to meet him. Joe's chuckle was deep and dark as he picked up his pace, his hands moving to squeeze your sides as he drove into you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the feeling of being filled with Joe's cock and watching Tee's exhausted, satisfied face was overwhelming.

"Look at me, sweetheart," Joe demanded, his voice strained as he pulled you up against him. Your back arched as you opened your eyes to find his piercing blues staring down at you. "I wanna see your face when I come inside you."

Your eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze setting your body ablaze. You could feel the muscles in your core tightening, your orgasm building with every stroke. Joe's grip on your hips grew fiercer, his movements punctuated by the slap of your bodies meeting. The head of his cock nudged your g-spot with precision, sending sparks through your body.

"Look at me," Joe repeated, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. You did as you were told, your eyes connecting in a silent agreement that this was more than just a casual fling. There was something deeper, something raw and primal that bound you two together in this moment.

The room seemed to spin around you as Joe's thrusts grew more erratic. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, the promise of his climax imminent. You leaned back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust as you threw your head back, your mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut. "I'm gonna cum again." The words were barely out of your mouth before you felt the warmth of Joe's release fill you up. He groaned, his hips bucking against you, his orgasm intense and powerful. Tee watched, his hand still around his cock, stroking slowly as he took in the sight of two of his close friends, lost in their shared passion.

Your body shuddered as the waves of pleasure washed over you, your hands slotting over Joe's as he trailed a hand up to squeeze at the sides of your neck, constricting your airways deliciously. Joe's cock continued to pulse inside you, painting your insides with his seed as your walls fluttered around him. The heady scent of sex filled the air, intoxicating and overwhelming. You felt Joe's grip on your hips ease, his breathing slowing as he pulled out.

Tee's eyes never left yours, his hand still moving languidly on his shaft. He looked up at Joe, a silent question in his gaze. Joe nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, and Tee moved in closer, his hand reaching for your chin. He turned your face to him, and you felt his kiss, soft and gentle, almost tender in contrast to the fiery passion you had just shared with Joe. It sent a refreshing wave of serenity over you, and you melted into it, your body still quivering from the aftershocks of your climax.

"You good?" Tee asked softly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. You nodded, your eyes flicking from Tee to Joe and back again, the gravity of what you had just done settling in. The room was quiet except for your synchronized breathing, and you could feel their eyes on you, watching your every move, every reaction, every twitch of your relaxing muscles.

You felt Joe's weight shift away from you, retreating to the bathroom to grab some washcloths. When he returned, he tossed one to Tee and used the other one to wipe you down gently, his touch surprisingly tender. You looked down at the mess you'd made off the bed, a mix of cum and sweat, and felt a strange sense of pride. These were two of the most eligible bachelors in the NFL, and here they were, sharing you like a treasure.

Your trio lay in a tangled heap of limbs, your breaths syncing as you all came down from the high of your shared experience. The tension of earlier was gone, replaced by a warm, contented silence. You felt a sense of belonging you hadn't known in a long time as Joe's hand trailed lazily across your back and Tee's arm draped over your waist. You were a unit now, bound by a secret that only the three of you knew.

As the reality of what had just transpired began to sink in, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and a hint of nervousness. You looked between them, two men you had known for years, two men you had never thought of in this way until tonight.

"What the hell just happened?" you murmured, a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

Joe leaned in, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "I think we just had the best sex of our lives," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. Tee's eyes twinkled with playfulness as he nodded in agreement. "All because of you, baby," he added, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your lips as the teammates reached over your body to dap each other up in shared accomplishment. A "My man," slipped through the quiet from Tee's lips, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. The sight of the two men celebrating their supposed victory, their friendship so clear even in the most intimate of moments, filled you with a strange sense of comfort.

"So, you two wanna explain why you're so good at this?" you teased, poking Joe in the ribs, the blonde squirming at your touch. "It's like you've practiced."

Joe's smirk grew wider. "I think this is pretty close to what we do on the field, you know? That QB-WR connection? We've got it down." His eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer to you. "We just knew what we wanted." His hand traveled down your side, sending a fresh wave of tingles across your skin.

"Once we figured out we both had feelings for you, we figured we could share," Tee whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "You're too much for just one of us to handle anyway." He chuckled, his hand sliding down your thigh. "It doesn't hurt that we make a pretty good team."

"And what would you two have done if I said no?" you asked, your voice revealing a hint of a challenge. You couldn't help the smirk that tugged at your lips as you watched the two men exchange glances, the unspoken communication between them almost comical in its synchronicity.

"I'd fuckin' kill him, he talked me into it," Tee said with a chuckle, reaching over you playfully jostle Joe. "But for real, we knew you'd be down."

Joe's expression grew serious. "We respect you too much to push you into anything." He brushed a lock of hair from your face. "We just wanted to be honest. Let you know how we feel."

You searched their faces, the gravity of their words sinking in. "I appreciate that," you said softly. "But what now? This isn't exactly something you tell people at work when they ask about your weekend."

Joe nodded. "We know. That's why it's just between us. What happens in this room, stays in this room." His thumb traced circles on your lower back, sending shivers up your spine. "But if you're into it, we could keep this going."

Tee leaned in, his voice a gentle rumble against your skin. "Just something casual. No strings, no drama. Just something between us three. We got each other's backs, always."

Your heart raced at the thought. It was risky, especially with your career in and around the league. But the connection you felt with Joe and Tee was undeniable, a potent cocktail of attraction and friendship that you hadn't experienced before. The thrill of secrecy only added to the allure.

"Okay," you said, your voice a hesitant whisper. "But only if we're all clear on the rules. No one outside this room can ever know. Ever."

Joe and Tee nodded solemnly, their eyes locked on yours. "You got it," Joe said, his thumb brushing over your plump lower lip. "Our lips are sealed."

This was fucking insane.

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Hey baes! Can you do the outsiders (separate) with a reader who always gets their nails done? Thank you!!

Summary: The Outsiders x Reader who gets her nails done Warnings: none Author's Note: none

PONYBOY thinks your nails are so pretty. He loves how they elongate your fingers and make you look more classy and elegant. He'll always prefer the small almond shapes over long and square, only because it's easier to give him head massages and he doesn't want your nails to get in the way of anything you do. Don't get me wrong though, he loves gyaru nails and will always ALWAYS help you design them. JOHNNY thinks your nails are beautiful. He thinks it ties together your whole look and he loves it. He's always asking you to do his favorite color (red) because he thinks it looks the best on you. Johnny was always interested on how they put the nails together so sometimes he'll sit in on your nail sessions and watch you get them done. If you get his initials he'll be over the moon excited! SODAPOP sometimes says that he only loves you because of your nails. THIS IS BECAUSE, he loves it when you draw little patterns on his skin and give him head massages because it gives him tingles, so he'll joke about it often. Has once asked you to get the DX logo on your nails and has not regretted it when he saw it. He loves when you get funny nail art, especially for Christmas. He finds the little santa and reindeer nail art so cute that he'll always beg you to get it. STEVE loves when you get your nails done. His favorite set was probably the red, blue and white ones. Not because it was an American flag but because those are his favorite colors. He thinks the long sharp stiletto nails are top tier and he jokes that it's good for self defense. He always tries to pay for your nails when he can scrape together enough, too! TWO BIT loves your nails, and so does his sister! If you ever get thermal color changing nails, they'll spend an hour staring at it change in awe. Has let you paint his nails before but only a clear top coat! You and his sister play 'nail salon' when she wants and he's always the customer and has to deal with marker scribbles on his hand. He always asks you to get funny images on your nails but you always turn him down, EXCEPT ON HIS BIRTHDAY! and he was sooo happy and full of laughs because of it. DARRY likes your nails. He thinks they're pretty without nails, he thinks their pretty with nails. He loves you for you, not your nails! He does really like when you get colored french tips though, they're his personal favorites! Especially the gradient two toned ones! He tries to always pay for your nails, but sometimes forgets you have appointments and you have to pay for it yourself. DALLAS really likes your nails. He loves when you get black and a dark red stiletto because he thinks they make you look tuff as hell. He wont spend hours admiring them like Two but if he notices your new set, he'll grab your hand, look at it nonchalantly and say, "Was it worth 60$?" Because he's SO sore that he had to pay 60 for nails! But as long as your happy that's all he'll say.

[marysdigdiaries101]

NEW INTERESTS

summary: as business woman barbie, you had to be quite serious and uptight about your field of work. so when you couldn't make it sleepover night, which wasn't unexpected of course ꒰but nevertheless꒱ , stereotypical barbie comes to check up on you.

warning/s: top! barbie, bottom! reader, no smut, but it's implied, fluff/comfort, tired reader, talk of depression, swearing, not proofread, pretend they have genitals btw.

word count: forgot to check lmao

authors note: hi hi hii ! first post omg? i just watched the new barbie movie and..im fucking obsessed, i swear i missed half the movies dialogue tho cause i was admiring margot's gorgeous face. anyway i thought what if we had a super stressed, borderline depressed barbie who just needed a break from her thoughts ? enjoy pookies ! ୨♡୧

+ btw men dni.

navigation ! | ୨♡୧

the wheels of your pastel pink car came to a stop in your driveway as you sluggishly dragged yourself out of the drivers seat. another long day, another girls night you couldn't deal with. bright lights illuminated the moving bodies on the vast dance floor, pointed stilettos tapping and turning swiftly as stiff hands clapped and clicked to the music.

clutching your purse, you moved across the dance floor, avoiding flapping arms and desperate kens in need of a dance partner. as you got to the last section of your mission, you felt a pair of eyes on you, a pair of eyes that were too familiar for you to shake off. looking over to your far left you found a set ocean blue eyes staring right back at you. the one and only stereotypical barbie. the perfect one, the main bitch of barbieland acknowledging your presence.

conversations between the two of you were very scarce. with you having a very busy work life and her having none at all, you never crossed paths that much. but living right across from her was a given, so conversations at times were necessary.

brushing off the nervous feeling that had crept up on you, you silently scolded yourself for the rosy blush that had quickly painted your cheeks. once again, clutching your purse tighter, you resumed your journey to your apartment in the lively dreamhouse.

the scratched door creaked open as you released your grip on the plastic doorknob. in any other room you can pretty much expect bright pinks and yellows and lovely colors..but not yours. in fact it wasn't the case at all.

black scribble lines all over formerly hot pink walls, torn up grey bed sheets, deflated pillows, a bedside rug that was once a lovely shade of baby blue now a murky lake green, and scratches, whoever was messing with this room had a no sense for care, as this room, this room was desecrated with scratches and marks.

sighing, you flopped unto the creaky mattress, the back of your knees hitting the plastic bed structure. reaching over to your achy feet, you pulled off the black heels that had been causing you anguish the whole day.

dropping your heels, you unzipped your pale pink silk dress, one of the very rare bright pieces of clothing you had left. flinging it over to the other side of the room, you tapped over to your closet, the once shiny, luxurious white structure, scribbled on and vandalised; stripped of its pride. you looked through the distressed drawer that had been left open from the mornings' rush. music flooded into the silence of your room as picked out navy blue pyjama bottoms and a tight fitted white tank top.

as if by magic (no pun intended) , your desired clothing adorned your slim body as you strolled over to your bed, plopping yourself on it and sinking into the mattress.

thoughts clouded your mind like a raging storm, keeping you a prisoner of your own mind. weird barbie said this would happen a lot more so it shouldn't have been unexpected. but it still hit you like a brick every time the thought of stereotypical barbie flooded your head. her plump lips, the crystal blue eyes that locked you in a trance at the slightest glance and her hair, oh god her hair. you just wanted to run your fingers through the golden curls. you wanted to tangle your fingers in it, you wanted to ruin it, you hated how perfect it was.

you hated her. you hated how ken adored her, how everyone was so goddamn drawn to her, it was like the town revolved around her jobless ass. you wanted her. you needed her. you needed her to need you. but you had your ken and she had hers, and that was that.

the last person who uttered a word about a barbie and a barbie or a ken and a ken was weird barbie and look how she turned out. it's not like you weren't weird yourself, with your heels dropping, thoughts about death, uncanny interests in barbie , your burnt waffles and messed up room and messed up clothes, you were borderline line outcast. you just hadn't been sent to the weird house yet.

'it's only a matter of time though'. you thought shutting your eyes. the late nights and early mornings catching up to you.

it only seemed like a few minutes before you felt the opposite side of your bed sink and a warm hand on your icy shoulder. shrieking, you leaped into an upright position, very nearly hitting your head on your heart shaped headboard.

"jesus! what the hell.." you came to an abrupt stop as you looked over to your side meeting a very dear set of eyes. "look, i'm sorry for barging in so randomly, i know you were sleeping and you're a very busy woman and-" the words mushed together in your head as you focused on her pouty lips. you would let her talk for hours on end if it meant seeing those lips move.

"it's okay." you stated, the corners of your lips turning up. "really? i mean i could leave honestly! it's no biggie..i mean if you want me stay i could?" the icy blonde rambled meeting your gaze softly. "i promise your fine." you assured her shuffling a bit, suddenly feeling very naked.

"so why are you here?" you questioned, sinking back into the comfort of your duvet. dropping your gaze, she fiddled with her velvet night gown, undoing the strings and redoing them. "..well i don't know, you looked more down than usual and you at least make it to the nail painting sessions in my room, but today you missed the whole night altogether." barbie confessed, searching your y/e/c eyes for reasons.

"i know, but-" "you promised." she stated, cutting your flimsy excuse short. "i'm sorry. i've just- i've had some things on my mind as of recent." you explained, your eyes looking at barbies' room across from yours.

“ what type of thoughts?” you raised your eyebrow at her answering her question silently. “right. too far… sorry.” she blushed, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. an uncomfortable silence filled the room as barbie crossed her legs, moving dangerously close to you.

clearing your throat, you glanced at her figure, letting the image cloud your senses. the curve of her hips to the sharp cut of her jawline, she really was the perfect barbie.

“i have thoughts about death too.” barbie whispered. you didn’t reply so she continued “all the time actually. they’re more frequent than they used to be. i thought maybe someone felt the same way as me so i shared it during the dance party downstairs, but, they just looked at me like i was.. weird.”

your heart rate tripled as you gazed up at her. she looked so.. vulnerable. all this time you had thought you were alone in this paradise. you thought of yourself as the elephant in the room. but there was a chance that the one person you thought was perfect, was just as fucked up as you.

“i’m so sorry, i’m gonna leave now-” “stay.” you muttered connecting your eyes with hers. “what?” the blonde asked, a bewildered look on her face. “i think about death too. maybe we have more in common than we thought.” you explained, running your fingers through your y/h/c haphazardly layered hair.

grinning immediately barbie sat back down, babbling instantly. and you did what anyone would do if they were in that same situation, you stared at her with hearts in your eyes, smiling broadly.

only mattel knew how you ended up sprawled across your bed with barbie straddling your lap, braiding chunks of your hair. who knew depressive thoughts could bond two dolls like this?

“your eyes are so pretty.” you murmured gazing up into her ocean blues. blushing she retorted : “oh shut up.” , but you could tell from her scarlet cheeks and darting eyes that she appreciated the compliment.

“can i kiss you?” you blurted, not being able to hold yourself back. barbie stared at you, her eyes glistening. preparing yourself for rejection you opened your mouth only to have it shut by pillowy lips.

stars behind your eyelids, in fact a whole constellation. gliding your fingers up the small of her back, you reciprocated the kiss as she cupped your face softly. biting your bottom lip, she explored your mouth slowly. sucking on your tongue, she extracted a well deserved moan out of you.

“fuck y/n” she groaned, grinding on you. moaning desperately, you fervently moved your hands around her body as she pulled away. breathing heavily you both stared at each other lovingly. “the others will hear..” she commented, returning to fiddling with your hair. agreeing, you smirked as she looked at your lips.

“i better go then. i don’t want you tired tomorrow, busy work life and all.” the blonde remarked as she slowly stood up. “mhm” you retorted, as you let your eyes wander all over her body.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, sleep well okay?” she stated, looking over at you as she got to the door. “i will.” you grinned, snuggling into your comforter. and at that she giggled as she closed your door, the echo of her voice promising you of better days. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🩰 ꒱ ˎˊ˗

[cursingtoji]

ᥫ᭡ — EXECUTIVE AFFAIRS: In a cutthroat world of boardroom battles and power struggles, you must navigate ambition , corporate intrigue, and unexpected love affairs.

✧ PRELUDE

— contents: CEO!reader, construction worker!Toji, lawyer!Nanami, therapist!Geto, ex-husband!Gojo; power imbalance, sexual frustration, manipulation, use of 'darling', 'baby', 'dear' & 'boss', 4k words, on-going series

— note: osha is the occupational safety and health administration agency in the USA, even tho i'm not american seems easier to just say osha (also a fun word to pronunce)

A young man opens the rear door of the Jaguar as soon as your driver stops by the construction site, “This way ma’am” you accept his hand, touching the cement with your stiletto first before getting out of the vehicle.

As scheduled you are heading to a meeting with the architect responsible for this particular project, a big one. Normally the CEO wouldn’t be involved in such routine visits like this, but you definitely don’t want to be like the previous CEO, who barely stepped out of his office for anything.

Besides, you have to make a good impression with the other directors that would be there today as well, and what better way to do that if not going to the construction site yourself, even though you clearly do not belong there given the way your heel wobbled as soon as it touched the uneven ground.

“Excuse me, miss” you’re stopped by a man twice your size — horizontally and almost vertically — extending a white helmet in your direction, “I’m sure that hair costed a lot and you don’t wanna cover it, but every person on site, even the ladies, ‘gotta wear it.”

You stand a bit shocked at the man addressing you like it’s not your last name on his uniform.

“Mr. Fushiguro, I should inform you that it’s your CEO you’re talking to” the boy beside you speaks up, he’s wearing a white helmet and the unknown man a yellow one.

“Great, so you are able to afford the OSHA fine if they decide today is a good day for inspection, but I’d rather not have another pointless safety training just ‘cause no one had the balls to tell you to protect your pretty ‘lil head” his expression doesn’t change a bit with the new information. You find that respectable, especially having so many people stuttering when talking to you.

If you were to say that you don’t get even a little bit amused by people being nervous in your presence Nanami would have to warn you about perjury. 

It’s quite a change to have a blue collar employee sticking to the rules and not batting an eye when the highest possible authority of the company is standing right in front of him, especially when that someone looks like he just got out of a sexy construction men calendar… not that you have ever seen one of those. That’s just what you think they might look like, plus that scar only adds up to fantasy.

You clean your throat, “I appreciate your work ethic, Mr. Fushiguro” you repeat the name so you won’t forget, “I wasn’t aware of the rules” you side-look the young man beside you who’s now staring at his own feet embarrassed since it was his duty to inform you.

“Call me Toji” you take the helmet and put it on, “By the way, you’re supposed to wear trousers too and… literally anything but that” he points with his chin to your high heels thinking how that alone was a safety hazard not just on a construction site. Toji leans closer “but I’ll let it slide, ‘cause you have quite beautiful legs.”

You are left mouth agape, internally appreciating that he didn’t say that out loud — after all being sexualized when you are trying to impose respect would require you to put a show and fire the man — but also makes you question if he was straight forward with you because of his work ethics or because he does not respect you as his superior. 

Not that you wouldn’t let him do disrespectful things to you, but still!

You’re taken to where the rest of the directors are, they’re easy to spot — a bunch of men in suits that clearly don’t belong to the place — surrounding a table with the blue prints. They greet you and you realize this is the first time you see all of them around a table and not sitting, poor guys must be dying for a room with AC right now.

It’s not like you belonged there either, with your tailor made beige suit that had a pencil skirt instead of the newly-discovered-necessary trousers and how-the-fuck-you-thought-that-was-a-good-idea high heels. But in your own defense you did visit a lot of construction sites when you first started at the company all those years ago and that’s much more than the white collar men in front of you can say.

The main architect starts to give you all an status of the project being interrupted by the senior engineer every few minutes, the last one clearly thinking he’s better than the first even though neither of them lifts a finger in this ground.

Your sight is drawn to the man that scolded you before, while the architect is pointing to something on top of the construction and everyone else is shielding their eyes from the sun to find it, you’re looking straight ahead to Toji who’s currently lifting an apparently very heavy sack of cement on his shoulder and taking it all across the site. God, he’s strong.

His handsome face shines with sweat, you’re sure the wife beater he has on also violates some OSHA code, but who would be crazy enough to report that? Not you for sure, the view is worth the OSHA fine.

Especially when he drops the sack with a grunt and uses the shirt to wipe his face, revealing a torso you’re sure Michelangelo would die to use as inspiration to sculpt into marble then having people saying ‘whoa that’s real art’. 

You wonder if someone would scream at you for touching that piece of art.

Unfortunately you don’t expect to get caught ogling by the subject himself. So the best thing you can do is find whatever the architect is pointing to and pretend to pay attention like you should have from the beginning instead of eye fucking one of your employees.

“Hey, boss” you hear on your way out of the site and back to your cozy office where you wouldn’t get your ankle broken that easily. You turn around and see Toji catwalking his way to you.

“Technically I'm out of the hazard zone, mr. Fushiguro” you justify your lack of a helmet which you ditched a few seconds ago.

“Toji” he corrects you, taking his own helmet off “and I’m not this uptight, unlike some people here today” he mutters the last part looking behind him to some of the directors that seemed to be looking for tiny errors on the project so they could fix it and justify being there.

“Well, what can I do for you?”

“I’m pretty sure you're being robbed.” 

“What?” you look around, “What do you mean?”

“You’re paying for double the stuff that’s actually being delivered” he took a sheet of folded paper out of his pants, you reach for it but he pulls it back, “I have proof and I can say names.”

“Did you say that to your field supervisor?”

“Please, who do ya think it’s signin’ under this?” he rolls his eyes.

“So you came to the CEO instead? You’re going behind some big backs here, sir.”

“Look, miss, I want a promotion, I know a lot of big shots will go down for this and I’m the only one capable of handling the people here. Besides I stand by what I said before, no one has the guts to do this so I’m taking a big risk and I deserve compensation” he hands back the paper and this time he let you take it. You stare into his deep green eyes suspiciously, the man has the looks of a fantasy villain with his sharp features and dark eyelashes, you're not entirely sure if you should believe him.

“Give your number to my assistant, we’ll schedule a meeting in the office, you tell me everything you know and I see what I can do about it.”

“In the office? Didn’t know you allowed commonores in your castle” he smirks.

“Only the pretty ones” you wink and his smile grows wider. 

“How long have you known about this?” Nanami questions.

“Not even 24 hours” you sit on your white couch signing for him to take the seat in front of you.

Your lawyer does that thing you find really hot where he unbuttons the coat of his five digit worth suit before sitting down. You admire Nanami’s elegance while he roams his eyes through the paper, he has a vest between the coat and the dress shirt. Navy blue suits him so well, matches his eyes. He makes you think every man should wear vests, but of course not every man can pull it off. Honestly, you find it hard to believe there's anything Nanami can’t pull off, but you haven't seen your lawyer without a suit… ever. 

Maybe he looks bad with a plain T-shirt? 

No way. 

Perhaps with an overall and cowboy hat? 

Mmm the image makes you wanna ride something. 

What about emo hair, eyeliner and a band tee? 

No, you can’t imagine Kento with emo hair, no chance he had a rebellious phase except if his parents wanted him to be a surgeon and he became the best lawyer in the city just to piss them off. 

“I’m glad you came to me first, but we’ll need to involve auditing and probably internal affairs. That’ll probably put the project on hold for some weeks, also I’ll need more evidence than this” he shook the one paper sheet that was merely a quotation of supplies even you could understand is way too much for a single building.

“I got the guy for that, say the word and Yuuta will arrange a meeting” you pointed to your assistant sitting outside.

“Tell me, dear” he put the sheet aside, taking that posture that intimidated you a bit, “A blue collar worker just saw your pretty self on the site and handed criminal evidence? Just like that?”

You open your mouth, thinking what to say that won’t sound like you are being taken advantage of, and failing.

“Oh darling” he says a bit too condescendingly for someone that technically works for you, “Thought I told you about being too naive” he leans on the couch, making himself comfortable like you’re about to have The Talk.

“Kento, is not like that” you cross your arms defensively, “He said he wants a promotion, how risky that would be?”

“Thought you would say that” he takes his phone and hands it to you, “So I did my own little research.”

“What’s this?” you find yourself looking at a picture of the man you met yesterday. 

Only now you could see tiny numbers behind him indicating his height and he held a plaque with his name. He looks way younger, still very handsome, you wonder how popular he used to be in his youth, with a face like that and the implication he was arrested was enough to make every girl’s bad-boy-dream come true.

“What was he accused of?” you ask out of curiosity.

“Not relevant, also sealed records” he breaks eye contact and that’s enough for you to understand he actually knows it and he did not get this information by any legal means.

“So what? The man got a bit of trouble with the law when he was young” you shrug, remembering even your ex husband had a little rich boy “criminal” file, if you can even call the dumb shit he did outta spite for his parents an actual crime.

“HR will find out about this, then you’re going to have to justify why you’re recommending a filled man for a managing position.”

“And I’ll tell them he actually found out about a theft scheme and whatever public-pissing crime he did will surely be overlooked.”

“Darling, you have to start thinking about your image, we’ve been through that before” he tilts his head.

“You don’t like my image?” you question playfully twirling your hair, Nanami smiles for a brief second.

“You know what I mean: your image towards the board, you barely made the votes necessary to be where you are today.”

Indeed, you owned the company and no one could take that away, but the CEO position needed to be voted and you only got the necessary votes because your ex-husband had the strongest voting rights and part of the divorce agreement was that he voted for you, so his, plus a few more other members of the board's votes and you made chief executive officer.

“Fine, then write a contract, he tells everything including testify if he has to in exchange of the supervisor position and I’ll pitch it to the board before any decisions are made” you uncross your arms raising from your seat.

Bringing the board into the conversation made you nervous, most of them don't like you and you’ve been trying to prove yourself for months. Even though you worked your ass off way before marrying the owner all they saw was a hurt ex-wife making pretend.

“Atta girl” Nanami raises too, buttoning his coat back and placing his hands on your tense shoulders. Nanami smells like what you think it should be every handsome lawyer's trademark scent, cause damn that smell would make you sign anything he gives you.

“Don’t worry much, you’re doing great” he presses a bit and you melt.

“Take me out to lunch?” you pout.

“I would love to” he lets go of your shoulder, “Unfortunately I have a hearing, but I'll be back for that meeting soon, okay?”

You sigh in defeat, getting even a few minutes of Nanami’s time for yourself is as hard as it can get, only a corruption scheme to get him to come to your office in such short notice.

“Ma’am” Yuuta says from the speakerphone, “Your ex-husband is calling” you groan, throwing your head back.

Of course he would want to interrupt your moment with Nanami.

“I can get you a restriction order” your lawyer offers jokily (or not).

Aside from being the company's lawyer, Nanami Kento was also your divorce attorney, which you managed to get only after agreeing to give him your company's account if he managed to land you the CEO position. Like everything in this merciless corporate world, it was give and take, you got what you wanted – not surprisingly so, afterall Nanami, even though is not a divorce specialist, is the best. Still, you like to think of him being more than another contractor of yours.

“I appreciate the offering” you smile tiredly, Nanami kisses your hand like the gentleman he is before leaving your office, “Yuuta, I’ll take him– it. I’ll take the call” you sit back behind your desk massaging your temple “Put him through.”

“Hello, beautiful” he greets over the speakerphone in that always so cheerful tone.

“Satoru, what do you want?”

“No chit-chat? It’s the least you could do for me after I gave you the company” entitled as always…

“You didn’t give it to me, you gave it up for the rest of your assets” you remind, already sick of this same discussion over and over.

When the divorce was officially on the table you told Kento exactly what you wanted: the company. The one thing you knew your ex husband would hate to lose, but also didn’t love as much as his lifestyle – which would be brutally affected if you decided to go for the 50% you were entitled to.

So through a carefully written agreement you accepted way less than you were owed in the form of full ownership of the respected construction company and title of chief executive officer.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other. How have you been?”

“Fine. Just tell me what you want, I actually take this job seriously and have important things to do.”

Oh god, he would tease you so bad if he knew about the corruption scheme, and the worst part is that, eventually, he will know. Gojo has ears everywhere around here.

“Nanami” he says simply. You start to look around your office, wondering if he has cameras there.

“You… want… Nanami?”

“Yes, beautiful” he confirms slowly like he's talking to a kid that has just learned the alphabet.

“Why? You know what? Nevermind, I don't want to know. No, you can’t have him” you lean on your chair, denying Gojo gives you great satisfaction.

“It’s not for any bullshit reason, alright?”

“I don’t care, Satoru. Besides, I don’t own Kento, you can approach him anytime” you smile knowing he would never be able to do that without you.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart?” condescension drips from your phone and onto your desk, “He won’t represent me even if I run for president.”

“So you need legal representation? You’re not calling me from jail, are you Satoru?” you mirror his condescending tone, surely he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Thought you didn't care, or would you bail me out? Oh wait, I forgot, you don’t have the money for that” he laughs, arguing was never a thing with him, he would mock you and find a way to make you doubt your accusations. Gaslighting is it? “I’ll give it a shot, just so you know, but this is a great opportunity for you to ask something in return.”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Think about it, baby, I’m sure there's plenty of things I can do for you” his tone is lower, more seductive.

“Doubt it” you roll your eyes hearing his chuckle.

“Yeah? When was the last time you had–” 

You hang up.

Then sigh loudly and press the button to talk to Yuuta.

“Yes, ma’am?” you scrunch your nose, still not used to being called that, Nanami said you should let your sweet assistant call you ma'am or madam at least in front of others since you could use the recognition of your authority.

“Please put Geto on the line.”

“Certainly” you wait, stepping out of your heels and digging your toes on the fluff carpet under the table.

“Hi, doc” you salute your psychologist.

“Sugar, I told you there’s no need to address me like that, hurts my feelings” his honeyed voice is everything you need to hear in such stressful times.

“It does? Maybe you should see a therapist to talk about that, I have a great recommendation” you can’t help but smile like a little girl when talking to him, being playful is a way to cope with your harmless crush.

“Just great?”

“He’s the best, I can assure you” he laughs, “Do you have a few minutes?”

“For you, absolutely” your face warms up then you remember the subject of the call and cools down again.

“It’s Satoru.”

‘It’s always Satoru’ Geto thinks.

“He just called wanting something, I told him no and he made that same old joke about me not having money” you huffed.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Helpless? I don't know, he must think I’m poor now or something” which is ridiculous, you’re not nearly close to his patrimony as you used to when you were married but what you have is still fuckload more than what it takes to be considered poor.

“He’s trying to remind you of what you lost when you left him, this is just another manipulation technique, my love. Don’t let him get in your head” you need this as a mantra to hear every time your ex-husband calls, “Did he bring up sex this time?”

“No, but he was about to.”

“And what did you say?”

“Hanged up” you hear him snorting.

“Well, that can work on the phone, but what if you were talking face to face? What would you have done?”

Geto knows a lot about you. Obviously since you pay him to listen while you ramble and complain. Still, feels overwhelming having someone recalling your previous actions, especially the ones you're not exactly proud of.

“Tell him to shut up, throw a stapler on him, call security, threaten him with a restriction order.”

“Would you really?” Geto likes to take a joke you make and dig on that.

“Well, probably not the last two…” 

“Have you been looking up restriction orders?”

“No, that was a joke my lawyer made early. A restriction order would be too… bureaucratic? Also unnecessary, afterall Satoru he never physically hurt me or threatened to.”

“That would be a good way of making him leave you alone for a while since you're not able to fully detach from him” you sat up.

“That's not true! I’ve been doing everything by myself lately, don't even have time to think about him! I’m detached, doc.”

“Wanna know what I think you would have done if he made that sexual comment face to face with you?” you gulp and Geto takes your silence as consent to continue, “I think you would let him go forward with it.”

You make an offended sound but don't fight his statement, “And what would happen next?” he tones the question like a professor trying to make the class complete a sentence, you keep your head down and mouth shut, “You would’ve let him sweet talk you into sleeping with him again.”

“You don't know that” you murmur.

“It’s a pattern, love. This is how abusive husbands keep their wives from leaving them or even telling anyone about the abuse. They use sex to make them think how good it is to be with them despite everything else.”

“Satoru was not abusive.” you defend your ex-husband firmly, “And I already left him!” you defend yourself less firmly.

“And he still thinks he can have you back! You know why?”

“Because I’m a catch that he shouldn’t have cheated?” Geto stays quiet for a few seconds and you feel a lump in your throat forming. The comment was supposed to sound more like a joke but you're still too hurt for that , clearly.

“That as well, but you really think he regrets it?”

“He seemed pretty sorry in the divorce mediation” you murmur recalling his lost-puppy expression.

“The meeting where he signed a paper that would make him lose his company and his wife? Gee I wonder why” the little sarcastic remark made you smile and shake your head, your psychologist using sarcasm against you is quite funny, “My point is, if you really want to be independent from him you ‘gotta stop letting yourself be attracted back like a magnet” you let his words sink in hearing some papers being ruffled on his side.

“I’m giving you homework.”

“Oh no…”

“Find your sexuality by yourself, you can watch porn, masturbate or even better: have sex with someone. Anyone but Satoru, because right now that’s what he’s using to control you.”

“Geto, I don’t know about this. Porn is too gross, masturbation is too ineffective and sex is too…” you trail off.

“Vulnerable?” he completes.

“I guess…”

“It’s been a few months since you last slept with Satoru, right? What’re you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” you rub your face.

“You know what I mean” he's strict and you let out a long sigh.

“I feel frustrated, sometimes stressed and distracted” all caused by the men you have to deal with including the handsome psychologist putting some sense in you. Not exactly what you wanted him to put in, but oh well…

“Exactly, in your current state it’s only a matter of time until you end up on his bed. You gotta decide if you are willing to: find porn that is not gross, masturbate more effectively or let yourself relax and be vulnerable.”

Is easy to like Geto Suguru, he’s handsome, has a sweet voice, he listens without interrupting (manterrupting is a big no-no for this job thankfully). Though sometimes it’s easy to hate him too, you have to remember he's saying what you need to hear not what you want to, even if your ears could use some tickling from time to time.

“Still with me?” he asks after you remain quiet.

“Yes, doc” he says your name in a warning tone, “Sorry, Suguru.”

“All good for our appointment next week?”

“Hm” your thoughts go to the newly found out corruption scheme that will need your attention the following days, “I’ll ask Yuuta to confirm with your secretary alright?”

“Whatever works best for you, love.”

“Bye, Suguru.”

“Don’t forget your homework.”

🏷️ @rinntvrou @sakurasimppp @sad-darksoul — to be tagged in future works of this series please comment “@ me” in this post.

note: i’m not sure if tickle the ears is a known term worldwide but means “saying or suggesting things to please even if untrue”. also i have some big plans for kinktober so next chapter might take a little while to be posted, let me know your thoughts <3

© all content belongs to cursingtoji; do not repost!

[sc0tters]

Tied Up | Sidney Crosby

summary: when it’s the team end of season gala and you begin to run your mouth, Sidney is there to put you in your place.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v (unprotected), swearing, drinking, light mentions of bondage.

word count: 2.25k

authors note: just like normal the Sidney pieces are the ones where I can get carried away… no but frl I’ve been writing this one for the last few days and it makes me happy to see it out.

You seemed to want to cause trouble tonight.

It was the end of season team charity gala and you were in some pretty black dress that served as a perfect contract from the white stilettos that you wore on your feet.

If it was a post break up outfit it would have been fitting, your dress hugged your curves as it made your breasts look heavenly.

But it wasn’t because of a break up, no this was arguably worse. You and Sidney had been sleeping together for the last three months yet that abruptly ended after rumours came to twitter of him spending time with some model.

Now you usually weren’t one for jealousy, it was an emotion you tried to avoid. But here you were sending Sidney a message that was simple telling him that you were done.

Yet that was so much easier said than actually put to practice. The captain looked gorgeous tonight as he walked around in a suit that was tight enough to leave little to imagination.

Sidney hadn’t let his eyes leave you since he arrived. It was hard to ignore how gorgeous you looked as you were in a conversation with some of the players, laughing as you let your hand brush over Ryan’s arm.

The Canadian always thought you had an eye for that boy, it was how you let your camera linger on him even as you started sleeping with Sidney. As it felt like he was proving his point the captain watched as you made your way to the bar to get another drink “just go talk to her.” Jeff groaned as he had been swearing for the last few weeks that all would make sense if you and Sidney got together.

If only he knew right?

The captains cheeks turned a tinge of red locking eyes with you as you went back to your conversation with Evgeni “sort that shit out for the sakes of the team.” The fellow Canadian added before he placed his hand on Sidney’s back pushing him in your direction.

Sidney wondered what you and Evgeni were talking about as your eyes sparkled looking at the captain “speak of the devil.” You smirked flashing the older boy your signature grin.

It was a look that Sidney would have thought that he would have gotten used to by now, but even after knowing you for two years it still made him weak in the knees.

Evgeni seemed totally unaware of what went on between you two as he smiled “surprised you didn’t bring that girl cap.” His voice was teasing as he watched the older boy nod bringing his drink to his lips “not really her scene.” Sidney’s comment was only met with a roll of your eyes and a scoff.

It irritated him how you could get under his skin so much easier when he was sexually frustrated “you got something to say?” The Canadian sent you a glare not realising that it only made you more amused.

You placed your now empty champagne flute on the table next to you “just think you’d need a bit of help to keep a girl satisfied.” Your comment made Evgeni snort before he slapped his hand over his mouth to keep quiet.

This little spat had been going on between you and Sidney for weeks now so he wasn’t surprised when he carried on into tonight “you’re old Sid, most men your age start needing help from some little blue pills.” You shrugged twisting the metaphorical knife in deeper before the older man wrapped his hand around your arm pulling you to the exit.

Anyone who had seen it thought Sidney just didn’t want to argue with you in front of everyone else but of course he had other plans “don’t remember you telling me I needed any type of pill to satisfy you.” Sidney’s voice was harsh as he pushed you into the elevator.

Your lips turned upright “didn’t think I’d have to explain faking to you.” Sidney always made sure you finished in bed but you were continuing on in your act to piss him off.

His eyes stared at yours as your back hit the wall of the elevator “you think you were faking it?” The hockey player let out a laugh as he hit the number for his floor.

When you remained silent his fingers dug into your waist “all the dang time,” you spat only getting cut off as his lips were forced onto yours.

The kiss reminded you of why you enjoyed being with him but as you remained strong not letting his tongue into your mouth it got him frustrated “it’s cute, you thinking you’re all strong today.” Sidney mumbled placing a slap to your ass cheek and as you opened your mouth to argue it gave him the chance to slide his tongue in between your lips.

You two went like this for another minute or two until the elevator doors opened on the captains floor “c’mon.” Sidney locked his hand with yours as he pulled you out of the elevator making sure you followed him to his hotel room.

As he fished for his keycard you decided that you wanted to push his buttons so as innocently as you could you let your hand reach over to the front of his pants where you began to palm his cock through the suit fabric “you are playing with fire baby.” The captain warned sending you a glare.

You leaned onto your tippy toes as you didn’t let your hand drop from his pants “ever thought that it was what I wanted to do?” You asked pressing a kiss just below where his earlobe was.

Luckily for Sidney he was able to open the door before you could do anything else to piss him off “been wanting to get you out of this since I saw you.” Sidney confessed letting his fingers run over the straps of your dress.

His hands cupped your breasts in their journey to your ass “Sid,” you whined as his lips nipped dangerously close to your sweet spot on your neck.

Sidney smirked as he turned to face you “only good girls get rewarded.” He shook his head “others have to work for it,” his voice was serious as an idea formed in your head.

You dropped to your knees never letting your eyes leave his “sure you don’t need some viagra first?” You kept this smirk as you undid his belt “change of plans princess.” Sidney scoffed pulling you back to your feet.

It confused you as he spun you around so that you were facing away from him “need to fuck you like the naughty girl you are.” He explained pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

Your panties grew wet “what are you waiting for then?” You asked letting out a gasp as you were pushed against the comforter on the bed.

Sidney let out a grunt as your dress fell over your ass “not even wearing any panties huh?” He ran his fingers over the curve of your ass before he slapped the arena of skin causing you to moan “didn’t look good with the dress.” You explained hearing the sound of his pants hitting the ground.

Your wetness glistened as he looked at your core “you been thinking about this today?” Sidney was painfully hard as he watched you turn your head to look at him “been thinking about getting a good fuck for weeks.” You confessed running your tongue over your lip “but then you found a new friend-“ the reminder of why you ended was sour on your tongue as you sent him a glare.

It made Sidney laugh “you think she mattered like you did?” The boy reached for your hands as he held them on your back “you are my fucking world.” He added using his belt to tie your hands together.

You grew alarmed as you felt his tie go over your eyes “I’m going to fuck you just the way I want to tonight.” Sidney leaned over to whisper that in your ear.

For the most part you two were fairly vanilla, besides for the fact that you enjoyed the occasional fuck in your office where he’d awkwardly sit under your table eating you out as you’d edit the pictures you worked on.

A whimper fell from your lips “please Sid,” you begged feeling his cock brush over your slit. He smiled hearing how needy you were “don’t think I need some pill for this?” Sidney asked dragging his cock over your clit teasing you “if you don’t hurry up then maybe?” Your giggle was short lived as he drove his cock into your core.

It was hot as you were practically trapped beneath him blind as your sense heightened “god you’re so tight.” Sidney grunted thrusting into you.

Your pussy wrapped around his cock giving him an extra sense of pleasure “don’t stop Sid.” You begged bringing your hips back to meet his.

Sidney snaked his hand down your stomach to rub your clit “don’t plan on it,” the sound of skin slapping echoed off of the walls making your skin sweaty.

His lips nipped at your neck finally reaching your sweet spot “god,” you cried as you tried to force your hands out of the belt constraint.

It only made the boys smirk increase “it’s just me princess.” He cooed locking his free hand in your hair as your moans were muffled by the comforter when your head drove deeper into it.

You honestly forgot about how irritated you were at him as his cock drove deeper into your pussy “oh shit!” You gasped trying to squeezed your thighs shut “not tonight princess.” Sidney shook his head as he moved his knee between your legs.

The headboard continued to hit the wall with each thrust the boy gave “you still think I should have had those pills tonight?” He asked clearly wanting that question to be rhetorical.

Moans were the only real coherent thing that came from your lips “no Sid,” you shook your head feeling it build up in your stomach “making me feel so full.” You cooed clenching your pussy around his throbbing cock.

Sidney grunted at the feeling “so why’d you say it to him huh?” He questioned you bringing his hand from your hair to your neck as he brought your torso up to his.

When you remained silent his hand squeezed around your neck “asked you a question princess.” He grumbled urging you to answer him “wanted to piss you off,” you whispered only knowing the side he was on by the sound of his breathing.

He smiled letting out a gasp as he was getting close to his high “and now you want to come don’t you?” Sidney pressed a kiss to your temple as your head dropped against his shoulder “please Sid.” You begged letting out a gasp as the tie dropped below your eyes “going to have to do better than that.” The hockey player grunted as your eyes locked with his.

You shook your head “please let me come.” You repeated your beg as your body began to shake. It was like you weren’t allowing yourself to come until he said so.

Sidney pressed a kiss on your shoulder letting his teeth sink into the soft skin “promise to behave?” He asked feeing light headed as his eyes fluttered.

He watched as you nodded “be your good little girl forever.” Sidney smirked hearing you say that “you can let it go baby.” His words caused your orgasm to hit you like a truck.

Eyes screwing shut as white specks lit up the backs of your eyelids “shit shit shit!” You cried out as the boy fucked you through your high.

If Sidney’s had wasn’t still around your throat you would have fallen flat onto the mattress “good girl,” his words rang through your ear as he shot his warm load into your pussy as he came shortly after you.

Once you two came back down to earth and the boy let his cock fall out of you your body shuddered “was I too rough tonight?” Sidney asked moving his hand down to undo the belt around your hands.

He massaged the area of skin as he realised that a bruise was going to form there tomorrow “it was hot,” your confession made him laugh.

The boy lay next to you as you looked up at him with a smile “I meant what I said,” Sidney ran his fingers through your hair “really?” Your furrowed your eyebrows watching as he kissed down your arm.

You were never going to get over how he made you feel so giddy inside “wanna to give you the world.” At this point it began to sound like he was talking to himself as he got up to readjust himself between your thighs.

A giggle left your lips as you propped yourself up on your elbows “what are you doing?” You grinned watching him stare up at you from between your legs “showing you just how much I want you.” Sidney’s words were playful as his breath fanned at your core.

It didn’t take him long before he wrapped his lips around your clit “fuck Sid!” You groaned instantly wrapping your fingers in his curly locks of hair.

You were in for a long night of pleasure.

[epinebleue]

wicked (m) | 01

A wave of shock rolled over you, followed by a surge of gratitude. The boy had been disgusting, his touch violating, and in that moment, the justice of seeing him knocked down was almost cathartic. You hadn’t asked for it, but Leon had taken control, he had done something. Your arm still ached, but somehow, it didn’t feel as heavy now. You felt like you were no longer entirely vulnerable, like there was someone standing between you and the dangers of the world.

pairing: yuta “leon” nakamoto x reader

genre: mafia!au, angst, mature.

warnings: swearing, depiction of violence, illegal acts (selling and using drugs).

author’s note: y’all! i haven’t posted anything related to nct in MONTHS but we’re so back! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

chapter index | next chapter

The first time you stepped through the Cherry Lips’ door, all you had was a blue sports bag slung over your shoulder and a handful of coins in your pocket. You had wandered into the club by chance while searching for a new place to sleep, no longer feeling safe in the bustling areas of Seoul. The streets were full of drunks and rowdy, violent people. You had seen two neon red cherries glowing from afar, their light cutting through the darkness like a beacon, drawing you in. A white piece of paper taped to the glass announced the club was looking for a new bartender. Without a second thought, you entered.

You had worked at a club for nine months before, so you were hopeful your experience would be enough for the job.

Inside, the club lounge was sleek and seductive. A rich crimson carpet covered the floor, and geometric-patterned wallpaper adorned the walls. Golden frames displayed photographs of young girls blowing kisses. On the left, the bar beckoned, with its mirrored wall and shelves stocked with hundreds of bottles. Ahead, a semi-circular stage stood, its golden paint gleaming beneath the red satin curtains that obscured whatever was behind. Tables were scattered around, arranged to give the best views of the stage.

You called out a greeting, and before you could even look around further, the sound of high heels echoed from a narrow hallway beside the stage. A few seconds later, a woman appeared. She seemed to be in her late thirties, was taller than you and had her dark brown hair tied back in a neat ponytail that cascaded down her back. Every time she moved, her hair followed. You took in her white suit and black stilettos, the heels clicking sharply with each step.

“Evening, miss.” You said, trying to sound as respectful as possible. “I saw the notice about needing a new bartender.”

“What’s your name, dear?” She asked, extending her hand, which you shook firmly as you answered. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kahi, the owner.”

She turned toward a narrow hallway. You trailed behind her, noting two doors at the end of it. Kahi reached one of them and held it open for you to enter. You sat down in front of a desk, leaving your bag on the floor, and took in the sparse decor: white walls, dark wood furniture, no pictures. So different from what you had seen outside.

She sat behind the desk and pulled a single sheet of white paper from a drawer. She wrote your name on it.

“How old are you?” You answered with honesty, and she seemed surprised. “Any experience in waitressing?”

“I worked for nine months as a bartender at a nightclub called Neon Fever. I have a recommendation letter, if you’d like to see it.”

"Yes, please.” She extended her hand, palm up, in your direction, and you quickly pulled the letter from your bag to hand it to her. She skimmed through it before looking back up at you. “Were you fired?”

“I quit.” You were quick to correct, fingers fidgeting nervously under the desk. “The work environment wasn’t great.”

Kahi took another look at the letter before handing it back to you with a deep sigh.

“I know that club. If you worked there, you could work anywhere.” You nodded, not sure whether to feel proud or disheartened by her words. “You’re young, you’re attractive, you’ve got experience, and you’re in need of a job. I need you to start tonight, so, if you want it, it’s yours.”

“Of course, of course I can do that.” You said, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to remain composed. You slipped the letter back into your dirty, almost ripped bag, which rested on your thighs. Kahi glanced at it. “Thank you so much, miss.”

Kahi seemed to hesitate for a moment, then asked: “I don’t mean to sound nosy, but do you have a place to sleep tonight?”

Her question hit you like a cold splash of water. Should you lie? Would she take it into account? You shook your head slowly, embarrassed.

“Not really, miss.”

She stood up and walked towards the other door in the hallway. You grabbed your bag and followed her up a small flight of stairs to another hallway, narrower than the one downstairs, with five doors. Kahi knocked on the second on the right before opening it.

A young pink-haired girl greeted you both from the inside of the room.

“This is Pinky.” Kahi said. “Pinky, meet our new bartender.”

Pinky waved as you stepped into the room. It was cozy enough, with a closet and two single beds, one of which you claimed by dropping your bag onto the bare mattress.

Kahi explained the tasks you would’ve to carry out in the club and how a part of your salary would be exclusively destined to pay for the room. You tried your best not to let your overwhelming sense of relief distract you, but it seemed impossible.

You no longer had to sleep in the street. Well, at least while you worked here. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a start. Plus, you now had someone to talk to, which you had sorely missed.

It felt like a new beginning.

It was a busy night. Raina had been sick for two days, and the absence of a waitress forced you to step in. Of course, as if the universe had sensed your extra workload, the club filled up quickly, making everything harder. To make matters worse, none of the orders were simple.

“Babe, table five wants a well-loaded daiquiri.” Nana’s voice cut through the chaos as you returned from delivering drinks to table three.

“Right on it.” You quickly moved behind the bar, grabbing a glass and rummaging through the ice bin.

Nana disappeared with a tray full of drinks prepared by Kaeun, your assistant bartender. Kaeun was decent, but there was one thing she lacked: speed. Thankfully, she was a quick learner. It was a relief to have someone helping, even if it didn’t ease all the pressure.

You finished the daiquiri and placed it on the tray next to the rest of the orders. With your right hand, you grabbed the tray and headed toward table five.

The man there was different. Most customers came for the girls dancing, the drinks, even the music. He didn’t seem interested in any of it. He sat back, his left ankle resting over his right knee, eyes glued to his phone. When you set the daiquiri down in front of him, his brown bangs fell over his eyes as he lifted his gaze to meet yours.

“Thanks.” His voice was low, but polite. He slid his phone into the pocket of his blazer. You gave him a faint smile, ready to move on to your next task. But then he spoke again. “Excuse me?”

You stopped, turning back toward him. “Yes, sir?”

“Do you know if Kahi is around tonight?”

You hesitated. You hadn’t seen Kahi all evening, which was odd. She usually made rounds, keeping things running smoothly. “I’ll check. Can I have your name?”

“Tell her Leon’s here. Thanks.”

You nodded and left, the questions already starting to form in your mind. Why was he asking for Kahi? Was he a new lover, maybe? As far as you knew, she didn’t date, and no one had ever mentioned a “Leon”.

It was three a.m. and most customers were drunk, lost in the spectacle of Pinky performing in a Snow White costume for Disney Princess Night. You smirked slightly at the memory of the costume drama that morning: Roa, dressed as Ariel, grumbling about Yuha claiming Cinderella’s gown.

Once the orders were served, you returned to the bar, placing the empty tray on the counter and telling Kaeun you needed to find Kahi. She looked concerned, reluctant to be left alone behind the bar, but you promised it wouldn’t take long.

When you knocked on Kahi’s office door, no answer came. You knocked again, feeling a little foolish.

“Kahi? You in there?” You called, your voice a little quieter this time. After a few seconds, you heard movement inside. The door creaked open.

The sight of Kahi stunned you. Her usually neat ponytail had loose strands falling around her face. She wasn’t wearing her jacket, and her shirt had two buttons undone. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and the papers piled up on her desk were a clear sign of stress.

“There’s a man outside. He says he wants to see you. Leon.”

At the mention of his name, Kahi’s expression shifted, her posture tense. You hadn’t expected such a visible reaction.

“Did he say anything else?” Kahi asked, her voice tight.

“No. Just that he wanted to see you.”

She sighed and straightened up. “Alright. Tell him I’ll be right there, please.”

You walked back to the lounge, your mind racing with questions. He clearly wasn’t a lover. Otherwise, she would have reacted differently at the mention of his name.

Back at the bar, Kaeun handed you another tray full of drinks. You tried to push the thoughts away and focus. After serving the drinks, you made your way back to table five, where Leon was once again absorbed in his phone.

“Sir.” You called out loud to get his attention. “Kahi will be here soon.”

He thanked you, his voice almost absent, before returning to his phone.

You couldn’t help but notice Kahi’s movements when she finally appeared. Her jacket was back on, her hair tightly pulled back, and the faintest hint of make-up covered the bags under her eyes.

The powerful boss was back in control.

Leon greeted her with a smile, but something about it felt off. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t genuine. It seemed rather cynical.

The night dragged on. There was a brief disturbance when a drunken man screamed obscene things at Yuha during her performance, but Baekho swiftly handled it.

You kept an eye on Kahi and Leon, noticing how uncomfortable Kahi seemed in his presence, fidgeting, avoiding eye contact. Meanwhile, Leon looked right at home: relaxed, calm, almost smug.

Around five a.m., the club started to empty. The few remaining customers paid their bills, including Leon. He flashed you a smile as he left.

Kahi approached the bar.

“Everything okay?” You asked.

She gave you a half-smile but didn’t answer. Instead, she handed you a card. “Everything’s fine.”

You looked at the card in confusion. There was a name, Nakamoto Yuta, and a phone number written in bold black ink.

“Who’s Nakamoto Yuta?”

Kahi didn’t meet your eyes as she turned away. “His business name’s Leon. He wanted you to have his personal number. Said you caught his attention.”

You blinked, the implications of her words slowly sinking in. She left, and you stared at the card, your mind swirling. You could throw it away. Forget about him. But something about Leon, a dark, elusive presence, kept nagging at you.

Kaeun’s voice interrupted your thoughts, and you quickly shoved the card into the back pocket of your faux leather pants.

You’d figure it out later.

“It’s strange.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, he talks to you once, then just hands over his phone number? That’s a little… unsettling.” Pinky shook her head, placing the card on the nightstand between your beds. “Sounds like a stalker, honestly.”

“To be fair, it’s a shame.” You muttered, sinking into your covers. “He’s pretty damn good-looking.”

“What does he look like? You never really said.”

You rested your head on the pillow, Leon’s image floating to the forefront of your mind as you began to describe him to Pinky: black hair, long bangs that partially covered his dark eyes. He had that presence about him that made him impossible to ignore.

“But more importantly, he was asking for Kahi.”

“Maybe they’re old friends?” Pinky shrugged nonchalantly. She wasn’t particularly interested, but you pressed on, needing to get your thoughts out.

“I don’t think so.” You closed your eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, but they only swirled more. “When she heard his name, she totally freaked out. If he were just an old friend, why would she react like that?”

“I don’t know... but Kahi’s been acting weird lately, way before he appeared.”

Pinky pulled down her black sleep mask, signaling the end of the conversation. You grabbed your book from the nightstand, trying to focus on the words, but your mind kept drifting back to him. Leon’s voice, his gaze, the way he carried himself. You read the same line over and over, frustrated, before closing the book and setting it aside. You turned off the light, trying to quiet your thoughts.

Like Pinky, you eventually drifted off to sleep. But he was still there, in the back of your mind.

“A what?”

“A girls’ night.” Shannon repeated eagerly. “Come on, join us! We haven’t had one in ages.”

You set the glass you were drying down on the counter, meeting your friend’s hopeful eyes.

“I don’t know... I’m not really in the mood.”

You spent six nights a week in a chaotic, lust-filled environment, dealing with drunk customers and the constant buzz of the bar. The last thing you wanted on your one night off was to step into a place just like the Cherry Lips.

“Wouldn’t you like to be the customer for once?” Shannon persisted, jumping up and down. You didn’t even look at her this time.

“What I really want is something different. Maybe a park, a movie, or going to a café…” You muttered, continuing your task of drying the glasses.

Shannon sighed, leaning on the counter. She lowered her voice.

“Okay, fine! I’ll just be honest. I met a guy last night and he invited me to this place, but Kahi says I can’t go unless you come with me. She doesn’t trust him, but she trusts you because you’re responsible.”

You frowned at Shannon’s words. Kahi had never told you what to do in your free time, so why was she suddenly acting like a mother, deciding you had to tag along for Shannon’s date? You weren’t the only responsible one, Nayoung and Roa were too.

Despite the annoyance, you knew you’d end up going. It was always the same: you didn’t want to hang out with the girls, then ended up having a great time. Still, it irked you to be forced into it, as if you were being expected to keep an eye on everyone.

Shannon called your name, snapping her fingers in front of your face. “Are you still with us?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You smiled, snapping out of your thoughts. “I’ll go with you.”

Shannon squealed, thanked you, and darted off upstairs. You continued your work, but your mind wandered to Leon again. It had been nearly a week since he’d visited, and sometimes, you found yourself glancing at the entrance, hoping he would show up. Each time the door opened, your heart would race, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t him.

You hated how obsessed you’d become with him. You’d barely seen him once, yet there was something magnetic about him that kept drawing you in. More than once, you found yourself almost calling him, but fear stopped you. What if he didn’t remember you? Or worse, what if he’d lost interest? Pinky caught onto your obsession immediately and laughed at you every chance she got. You eventually decided to let it go, but a part of you still yearned for something to happen.

The girls’ night arrived, and the outfit she picked out made you feel like a mother hen. She was dressed provocatively, and you couldn’t help but feel uneasy. It wasn’t that the dress was inherently bad, but considering how young she was, you couldn’t shake the worry that the boy she was seeing only wanted to use her and then move on.

At eleven o’clock, you bid the other girls goodbye as they played UNO with Baekho and Minhyun. The taxi was already waiting. Shannon climbed in first, you followed, and Pinky was the last, closing the door behind her.

“You still haven’t told me how you met this mystery guy, Shan.” You said, breaking the silence. Shannon was busy fixing her lipstick, so Pinky answered for her.

“You don’t know? It’s such a romantic story!” Pinky said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“His father took him to the club to celebrate his twenty-first birthday.”

“Wait, it’s that guy?!” You laughed, incredulous. “He’s not even good-looking!”

“For your information, the lighting was pretty bad that day.”

Shannon kept on, trying to defend her date, telling you how the guy had approached her after her performance to compliment her. Lacking experience with men, Shannon had been the one to suggest going out. The whole story sounded a bit pathetic, but who were you to judge?

You were in no position to criticize.

It didn’t take long to get to the club, and when you arrived, a long line of people stood waiting to get in. Shannon walked up to the giant doorman, who checked the VIP list.

“He said we’re on it.” Shannon explained as the man looked for your names, opening the door for you once he found them.

The club was nothing like Cherry Lips. The lights were neon and pulsed in red hues, while a spotlight illuminated the bar. The crowd was younger, full of people your age, laughing, dancing, and enjoying themselves. The whole atmosphere was freeing. There were no creepy, older men leering at you. You realized, for the first time, how much you hated the Cherry Lips environment.

Shannon found her date quickly, hidden in a corner of the VIP area, surrounded by sofas. If it wasn’t for Pinky, you would have felt like a third wheel, as Shannon and the guy immersed themselves in their own world.

As you sipped your drink, some of the guy’s friends offered you a round of rainbow shots. The night was moving along smoothly until Shannon came back, her hair tousled. Pinky teased her about it, but all you could feel was the intense, unsettling gaze of one of the boy’s friends.

When Pinky went to grab another drink, he took that as his chance to approach you. Things escalated fast. His hands on your waist were a stark reminder of the discomfort you often felt at Cherry Lips. His body pressed too close, and the bulge in his pants made you freeze with anger.

You shoved him away, but he grabbed your arm, leaving marks on your skin.

“Are you out of your mind?!” You yelled, even though you weren’t sure he could hear you over the music.

Before you could process what was happening, your back collided with someone. You turned around, ready to apologize, but words died in your throat.

Leon stood there, his eyes fixed on the boy in front of you. It looked like he was ready to kill him.

The dim neon lights reflected off his dark hair. He was wearing a tight shirt that hugged his chest, and the sleeves were rolled up, showing off his veiny forearms.

The boy before you shot Leon a confused look, but you could see how much fear he was radiating. You wanted to punch the guy, but the anger inside you was nothing compared to Leon’s quiet, dangerous presence.

“Thank goodness you’re here.” You said, wrapping your arms around Leon. He gave you a questioning glance, but when you spoke again, he seemed to understand. “Love, look what this animal did to me.” You gestured to the mark on your arm.

“I think… this has been a misunderstanding.” The boy stammered, raising his hands. Leon stepped closer, his towering form making the boy visibly shrink.

“You calling her a liar?” Leon’s voice was calm but laced with threat.

“What? No, of course not.” The boy mumbled, backing away.

“Good. You might want to leave.” Leon took another step forward. The crowd around you, including Pinky and Shannon, had gathered, watching the drama unfold. “Because if I see you near her again, I won’t be so understanding.”

The boy hastily apologized, and disappointment washed over you. You stood there, heart still pounding, eyes locked on the guy. The music seemed to fade, the lights almost feeling surreal. Your arm throbbed where his fingers had left marks. It was more than just the physical pain. Something darker lingered, an uncomfortable ache that was eating you alive.

The way his hands had grabbed you. The pressure. The way you froze, completely caught off guard. Why hadn’t you done something sooner? The thought circled your mind.

You weren’t just an object to be touched without consent. You weren’t something to be handled like that. His eyes had made it clear what his intentions were, and yet, you hadn’t fought back right away. Why did it take so long to shove him off?

You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away. It wasn’t your fault. You knew that. But still, that voice wouldn’t stop nagging.

Then, you felt the comforting presence of Leon, silent, steady. 

Stop thinking about this, you thought, pushing the spiraling thoughts back down. But the ache in your arm remained, a quiet reminder.

And then, unexpectedly, as the boy was about to scurry off, Leon punched him. The crowd gasped. The guy almost fell back, hands pressed to his bleeding nose.

Shit, had he really just done that?

A wave of shock rolled over you, followed by a surge of gratitude. The boy had been disgusting, his touch violating, and in that moment, the justice of seeing him knocked down was almost cathartic. 

You hadn’t asked for it, but Leon had taken control, he had done something. Your arm still ached, but somehow, it didn’t feel as heavy now. You felt like you were no longer entirely vulnerable, like there was someone standing between you and the dangers of the world.

“Are you okay?” Leon asked, bringing you back to the present. 

You simply nodded, too flooded by emotions to put words together. You glanced at him. Beneath the calm exterior you had seen when you met him, you could now sense something else.

“I am.” You whispered, finally finding your voice.

“I think we should go.”

“I… came with my friends.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Pinky and Shannon approached you, and you explained what happened. After showing them the scratch, you all agreed to leave with Leon. Shannon and Pinky squeezed into the back, leaving the front passenger seat open for you.

As Leon drove, you found yourself distracted by his silver rings and the luxurious watch on his wrist, definitely a Rolex. And his car, a black Bugatti, screamed wealth.

Leon had to be loaded.

“I can’t believe he did that. What a jerk.” Pinky said, shaking her head. “He had that hit coming. You were amazing, Leon.”

Leon glanced at you, then at her. “I haven’t even told you my name yet.”

“Oh, but she has mentioned you a lot lately.”

Leon glanced back at you, but it was brief. He had to keep his focus on the road, after all. You, on the other side, wanted to disappear and drag Pinky with you.

“Interesting.” Leon murmured, smirking. “But I’d prefer you call me Yuta.”

The car fell into a comfortable silence until Shannon groaned from the back.

“Oh, no. She drank too much.”

Yuta and you looked at each other for a second, panicking. If Shannon threw up in this fucking expensive car, you would kill her. Yuta quickly parked on the side of the road, and Shannon opened the door, intending to leave. Her plan failed, and instead, she leaned out to vomit. Pinky removed her seat belt to grab her hair and pat her back, telling her to breathe and calm down.

You buried your face in your hands, mortified.

“Are you feeling better?” Yuta asked Shannon once she had closed the door. The younger girl leaned her head on Pinky’s shoulder and gave him a thumbs up.

Shortly after, Yuta parked in front of the club. Shannon and Pinky exited, thanking him for the ride.

When they were out of sight, Yuta laughed lightly. Your cheeks burned.

“Please don't laugh.” You said, covering your face once again. “That was so embarrassing.”

“Come on, it was funny.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t even.” There were a few seconds of silence. “I’m sorry if sending you my number with Kahi scared you.”

“Well, you’ve punched someone for me tonight, I can’t be mad at you.”

Yuta laughed again.

You looked out the window for a moment, wishing that this moment could be extended a little longer. But you were starting to feel the effects of alcohol, and you were very tired. Your arm hurt.

“I better get going. I’ve got work to do tomorrow.”

You felt a buzz of heat in your chest, your arm still aching from the earlier incident, but the night had ended with the memory of Yuta’s smile lingering. As you waved him goodbye, you knew you’d be thinking about him for a long time.

Back at the club, Kahi sat at a table, working. She barely glanced at you.

“Looks like you had a good time.”

“I did.” You replied, surprised by her irritated tone. “What are you working on?”

“Numbers.” She muttered, taking a drag from her cigarette. “Not everyone has the privilege to enjoy a night off.”

You raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push further. You were too tired, too confused to do so.

“Well, you’re the boss after all, right?”

“Yeah.” Kahi clenched her teeth. “I am.”

You shrugged it off, heading to your room. Pinky was already in bed, removing her makeup. You changed into your pajamas, slid into bed, and tried to forget about the night, but all you could think about was Yuta.

The scent of pancakes filled the air. The girls were already deep into their meals, and so you assumed they were just too hungry to wait for you. You sat beside Pinky and poured yourself some orange juice.

“So, you guys had a good time last night?” Yehana asked, watching Shannon struggle to open her mouth. The girl looked like passing out from the worst hangover imaginable.

“It could have been better.” Pinky said, grabbing a waffle from the plate at the center of the table.

“Why? What happened?”

Before you could say anything, you stretched your arm across the table to show her the scratch. It had turned red, and you felt the sting as your skin brushed the fabric of your sleeve.

“One of the guy’s friends tried to make a move on me.” You said, quietly. “And this is what I got for turning him down.”

“Oh fuck.” Yehana grabbed your arm, inspecting the mark before letting go. “What did you do?”

Pinky leaned forward and answered for you, her tone a mix of incredulity and amusement.

“Do you remember that guy who’s been eyeing her for days? Yeah, he appeared out of nowhere and punched the motherfucker who was bothering her.”

“No way!” Yehana’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yes!” Pinky burst out laughing. “But I think she didn’t notice how he was looking at her last night. Trust me, he wants to bang her.”

A soft blush crept up your face, but you tried to ignore it as the conversation turned to other topics.

As the morning progressed, you discover the reason for Kahi’s bitchy behavior: Raina and Nana had resigned. No one knew why, they had just left without saying goodbye. Kahi didn’t explain, and you didn’t feel like pressing her for answers.

The club wasn’t as packed as it usually was, but you preferred it that way. Fewer people to serve meant less chaos. Kaeun was getting more comfortable behind the bar, her nerves fading as she gained confidence. It was a relief to finally feel like you had some help, especially since you still had to pick up extra shifts while Kahi looked for replacements.

You carried a tray with three cocktails to a table near the stage. Eunwoo, whose blond hair shimmered under the pink spotlights, was dancing on the pole. You set the drinks down quickly, turning to leave when you overheard some men discussing what they’d like to do to her.

The conversation made your stomach churn, and you couldn’t get away from it fast enough.

Then, Yuta walked in. He was dressed in the same black suit as the first time you saw him, and his gaze swept the room before locking onto you. He made his way over once you finished delivering the drinks.

“Good to see you again.”

“Likewise.” You replied, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. You gestured to the seat beside you. “What can I get you?”

“Whiskey. Dry.”

“Got it.”

Just as you began to work on his drink, Kahi appeared at the table. Without acknowledging you or anyone else, she slid into the seat beside Yuta. She didn’t speak a word until you served him his whiskey.

“I want a Bloody Mary.” Kahi said, her tone flat and demanding.

You raised an eyebrow, a tightness forming in your chest. No please? No thank you? You kept your expression neutral.

“Of course, miss.” You replied, forcing a smile. Stay professional, you thought, don’t take it personally.

When you turned to leave for the bar, you couldn’t help but feel the sting of Kahi’s casual rudeness. The sound of the tray hitting the table echoed a little louder than necessary. You exchanged a few words of frustration with Kaeun, who admitted that Kahi had yelled at her during your night off for not being fast enough with the drinks. It was nice to know you weren’t the only one who felt the pressure.

When you finally returned with Kahi’s drink, you placed it down in front of her with more force than usual. You couldn’t shake the frustration that had been building all night. Still, you knew you had to keep walking on eggshells. This job was all you had.

Yuta caught your eye as you left the table, his gaze warm, and a slow, incredibly attractive smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You quickly turned away, your heart fluttering.

Another night, and once again, Yuta showed up at the club, only this time, he and Kahi disappeared into her office. The door had been closed for nearly an hour now, based on your estimate. A string of red light from the spotlights managed to creep down the hallway, casting an eerie glow on the door. It looked almost like a portal to somewhere unknown, both unsettling and oddly enchanting.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Before they entered the office, there had been a brief exchange between them: an argument, you’d noticed. You didn’t know what it was about, but Kahi had seemed restless, defensive.

The pair clearly had some history together, but why had Yuta shown up out of nowhere? Why hadn’t his name come up in any of Kahi’s conversations in the four years you’d worked here?

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Kaeun asked, leaning over the counter, trying to peer through the crack in the office door.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, glancing over your shoulder at the closed door, your unease growing. “But whatever it is, it’s not good.”

You were placing the last glass under the counter when Baekho slid onto the stool across from you, his gaze heavy and distant. He rested his elbows on the counter and spoke with a low voice.

“I need alcohol.”

You studied his face before reaching for a freshly washed glass and filling it with vodka. His eyes seemed tired, his expression worn.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, your tone filled with concern.

“My girlfriend’s period is late.” He muttered after a while, looking down at his hands.

Your breath hitched in your chest as you stifled a gasp, wide-eyed in disbelief. You watched him gulp down half the vodka in one go, his eyes glistening with the threat of tears.

Kaeun, ever the optimist, leaned in with a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Baekho. If she’s pregnant, she can always choose to terminate the pregnancy... but if you decide to keep it, I’m sure you’d make a great father.”

You saw where Kaeun’s kind words were coming from, but they hit wrong. You shook your head, trying to catch her attention, your panic growing with each word.

“No, Kaeun.” You whispered urgently. “Baekho… can’t have kids.”

Kaeun’s face blanched, her mouth falling open. Her voice barely a whisper as she muttered a soft “oh”, her eyes darting between you and Baekho. She seemed embarrassed, unsure of how to save face.

The boy, unable to hold back any longer, downed the rest of his drink, slamming the empty glass onto the counter with a force that nearly shattered it.

“Alright, Baekho, listen to me.” You said, trying to steady your voice. “A woman’s period can be late for so many reasons. Don’t panic just yet.”

He nodded slowly, brushing the tears from his face with the back of his hand. You reached out, gently running your fingers through his hair, a gesture meant to comfort, even though you couldn’t fully understand the weight of his pain.

It was difficult enough for him to come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t have children, especially when fatherhood meant so much to him. But now, the thought of a possible infidelity added an unbearable layer of hurt, and you could see how deeply it cut, especially considering how much he loved his girlfriend.

The hours passed, and still, the door stayed shut. As the night progressed and the club began to empty, Pinky and Roa took over cleaning the room while you scrubbed glasses, your thoughts a constant loop. The sound of the office door opening caught you off guard. You froze, hand still gripping the glass you were cleaning.

Kahi cleared her throat, her voice sharp. You tried to compose yourself, but the tension in the air hung thick.

“Our guest is leaving.”

Kahi said, her tone cold. She headed towards the door with her usual air of control, and the remaining girls mumbled awkward goodbyes. Yuta then did something that made your heart sink: he ignored you.

The wave of disappointment hit you hard as soon as the door closed. For some reason, you had hoped for more. More acknowledgement, more attention. But he’d spent the entire night with Kahi, as if you didn’t matter at all. You knew it was irrational to feel upset, but that didn’t stop the frustration from boiling over.

You grabbed your phone the moment you hit the bed, fingers moving quickly over the screen as you typed:

We should go out sometime.

The message felt like a small, desperate plea, but you hit send before you could second-guess yourself.

After inspecting your clothes, Pinky decided to lend you one of her dresses. Each of them was beautiful, and it took you a while to decide which one you wanted to wear.

It was a Saturday night, and Yuta had invited you out for dinner. Where he would take you was a secret. Would it be elegant? Romantic? You tried not to get your hopes up too much. After all, it was just the first date. The location didn’t matter that much, you just wanted to get to know him.

I’m outside. You ready?

Coming.

You quickly hopped off the bed, with Pinky by your side, and made your way through the hallway.

“What if the conversation gets awkward?” You asked, your nerves starting to show.

“Ask him questions.” Pinky suggested, adjusting the collar of your coat.

“What if I run out of things to ask?”

“Then he’ll come up with something.” She reassured you.

“But-”

“Hey.” She raised a hand and pressed her finger to your lips, halting your words. “Everything will be fine. You’ve got this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Trust me, I’ve got a sixth sense for these things.” Once you reached the front door, Pinky straightened your dress and gave you an encouraging smile. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Yuta was standing outside, leaning against the passenger door of his scandalously expensive car, dressed in a dark blue suit. When he heard the door open, his face lit up.

He opened the passenger door for you and whispered in your ear as you slipped inside:

“You look gorgeous.”

Soft music played inside, and you couldn’t help but be thankful that he hadn’t seen the way your face had turned red at his compliment. As you fastened your seatbelt, Yuta climbed in and started the car. It moved smoothly, the hum of the engine almost soothing.

“So...” You hesitated, trying to break the silence. “Where are we going?”

“One of my friends owns this restaurant…” He explained, his hands gripping the wheel. “The Lotus. Have you heard of it?”

Of course you had! It was the restaurant of the moment, a must-visit place for celebrities.

A sudden feeling of self-consciousness flooded your body. Everyone there would be wearing designer clothes, while you wore a cheap (beautiful, nonetheless) dress. Maybe this whole date hadn’t been such a great idea after all. Maybe people like Yuta weren’t supposed to mingle with people like you.

Yuta kept on driving, oblivious to the insecurities creeping up inside you.

You turned your gaze out the window as the car left the industrial area where the club was, moving toward the open roads. The landscape seemed barren: yellow, dry ground as far as you could see. The scenery changed the more you drove, passing through residential neighborhoods where houses with two, three, four floors lined the streets.

One house, in particular, caught your eye. It was built from red bricks, with a black front door adorned with decorative glass featuring a delicate floral pattern. Stairs led up to a small entrance, surrounded by vibrant, colorful plants. Beside the door, a large window caught your attention, though white curtains obscured the view, leaving you to imagine what the living room might look like inside.

You could only dream of owning a house like that. Your salary barely covered the basics: rent, food, your phone bill. There wasn’t much left after paying for all of that.

Yuta’s voice brought you back to the present. Had you really been quiet the entire drive? You felt guilty for not trying to make conversation.

The entrance of The Lotus loomed before you, and suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a wave. Elegance, money, power. Three things you didn’t have. A young man opened the car door for you, and you stepped out with shaky legs. Yuta handed the keys to the valet and walked to you, placing his hand on the small of your back.

The glass doors opened automatically when you approached them and, inside, a hostess greeted you warmly and took your coats before guiding you to your table in the center of the salon. The sound of your heels was muffled by the plush red carpet, and you couldn’t avoid glimpsing your reflection in the mirrored walls.

Yuta ordered an expensive wine, and you nearly choked on your saliva when you saw the price.

Of course, it was simply pocket money when it came to Yuta.

The wine was delicious, and so you tried to let go of your discomfort. You were into the starters, eating something with salmon and some lemon, when a question you’d been holding onto slipped out.

“How can you afford all of this?”

Yuta raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “You aren’t one to beat around the bush, huh?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but words seemed to get stuck in your throat.

“I-”

“I inherited the family business after my parents’ death. I own Nakamuro Corporation.”

You blinked in surprise.

“Shut up. You really?”

Nakamura Corporation operated multiple businesses both nationally and internationally, from media and entertainment to luxury hotels. The Cerulean Hotel, owned by the company, was one of the most expensive hotels not only in South Korea, but in the world.

No wonder every single breath of his screamed wealth.

Yuta chuckled at your reaction. He went on to explain how, with no siblings, the entire family fortune fell to him after his parents’ passing. He had made some loyal friends throughout his life, such as Johnny, the owner of the restaurant you were eating in.

He had bought a penthouse in downtown Seoul as soon as he hit 21, but when the pressure of the business life became too much, he retreated to his family’s rural home in Japan, where his grandmother still lived.

“What about you?” He asked, his eyes sincere.

You mirrored his sip of wine, feeling the weight of the question.

“I, um… actually, I don’t really have any family. Just my girls.” You replied, your voice hollow. “My dad left when I was a baby, so my mom raised me as a single mother. When I turned 18, she met a guy online and… left. She didn’t even tell me. I came home from high school one day, and they were just gone. After waiting for a week, I realized they weren’t coming back.”

Yuta set his glass down, a look of genuine regret crossing his face.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Don’t worry about it. You couldn’t have known.” You said, spinning the drink inside your glass absently. You took a deep breath and continued. “I started crashing on friends’ couches, taking whatever shitty jobs I could find. Eventually, I ended up living in the streets, then found the Cherry Lips. I don’t believe in fate, but I genuinely think that someone watching over me moved the pieces so that I ended up there.”

Yuta listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours. The dinner continued, the wine slowly disappeared, and the night soon came to an end. On the drive back to the club, the two of you chatted about everything and anything in particular. You loved seeing this side of him, more relaxed and open. 

When you said your goodnights, you swore you had seen Yuta glancing at your lips.

If you had to pinpoint the moment everything started to crumble, it would be when clients began visiting Kahi’s office. They’d only be inside for a few minutes, but when they came out, they acted off. They’d tap their feet, glance around nervously, sweat. When they left, they could barely walk straight.

A nagging feeling settled deep within you, a sense that something big was about to blow up, and when it did, there would be no coming back from it. Two weeks later, you would find out just how right you were.

Eunwoo was performing on stage when a man suddenly lunged at her. Baekho and Minhyun were on him instantly, but the man was wild, completely out of control. With brutal force, he shoved Minhyun aside, sending him crashing into a nearby table. The table splintered, and Minhyun collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. Chaos erupted around you: Eunwoo’s screams, the other girls rushing from the dressing room to comfort her, and Baekho, with help, dragging the crazed man offstage.

Kahi appeared, her voice a booming command as she kicked everyone out. Kaeun rushed to Minhyun’s side, but you were frozen, staring at him, wondering if he was dead. Had you just witnessed a murder?

Kaeun grabbed his wrist, desperately searching for a pulse. When she finally found it, she sighed with relief, glanced at Kahi, and nodded. The pulse was weak, but it was there. He needed to get to a hospital.

Roa and Nayoung helped Baekho get Minhyun into the car, and you stood on the street with the other girls, watching the car disappear down the road.

Kahi turned back to the group, her face unreadable. “Get in.”

Everyone followed, hoping she’d finally explain what was going on, but she walked straight to her office, stopping only when you called out.

“What’s going on?”

“Sorry?”

“Clearly something’s wrong.” You spoke louder, your voice firmer now. “Customers have been acting weird, getting in and out of your office every night, and now this. We work here, we live here. We deserve to know if something’s happening.”

Kahi looked you dead in the eye, but there was nothing in her expression. After a long, uncomfortable silence, she spoke.

“You’re right. I owe you the truth.” She straightened up, crossing her arms defensively. “We’re bankrupt. I’ve been selling coke to be able to pay the bills.”

Your world stopped. The words didn’t make sense at first, and you couldn’t process them. The girls around you wore identical expressions of shock.

“Kahi, are you insane?” Pinky cried. “You’re going to get us all in trouble!”

“What if someone finds out and goes to the cops?” Roa asked, her voice trembling as she sat down. “Oh, God…”

“No one will talk.” Kahi insisted, scanning the room, eyes stopping on each girl. “I’ve got pictures. They don’t want their wives, girlfriends, or bosses to find out where their money’s really going.”

You scoffed, running a hand through your hair. “If blackmail is your only backup plan, we’re literally fucked.”

“Then tell me how else I can keep this place running.” Kahi snapped, raising her voice. But you weren’t scared anymore.

“Well, shit, not by selling drugs!” You threw your hands up in frustration. “Why didn’t you ask for a loan? I don’t know! Do you have any idea how close tonight came to ending worse? What if Minhyun had died? What would you have done then?”

“But he didn’t die.” Kahi shot back.

You couldn’t believe that the woman in front of you, the one you had once looked up to, could act like this. So irrationally, so blind.

“He could have died.” You pressed. “And you’re our boss, Kahi, you’re supposed to protect us.”

The other girls murmured in agreement, but Kahi stood firm, her expression stone-cold.

“I’ll make this clear once and for all: I’ll do anything to keep this club afloat.”

“I get that.” You said, crossing your arms, mimicking her defensive stance. “But this isn’t the way.”

“If you don’t like it, then leave.”

The words hit you like a punch. Your heart skipped a beat, and you could barely find your voice.

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. You’re fired.”

“Seriously? You’re kicking me out because I won’t go along with this?”

Kahi stepped forward, her perfume overwhelming. You could feel her breath as she towered over you.

“Anyone else?” She scanned the room, her eyes daring anyone to speak. But there was silence. She turned back to you, her final words cutting through the air. “I want you out first thing in the morning.”

You stared at her, her face a mask of cold indifference, and for the first time, you realized that the woman you once knew had disappeared. Even if things had been awkward lately, the realization hurt more than you thought.

“You’re such a bitch.” You said quietly, savoring the words you’d wanted to say for so long.

Kahi didn’t answer. She just turned, and the sound of her office door closing was the final blow. Your body sank into a nearby chair. The girls gathered around, comforting you, vowing to talk to Kahi and get you back in, but deep down, you knew it was over.

And maybe, just maybe, it was for the best.

You spent the rest of the night packing. You dug out your old bag from the closet and stuffed your clothes inside, the rest of your things going into a new backpack.

You didn’t sleep.

The next morning, you dressed in silence, the weight of what was happening sinking in. Despite the girls’ attempts to change Kahi’s mind, you knew there was no turning back. Kahi only emerged from her office to hand you a letter of recommendation and your severance pay.

You took one last look at your room. Regret gnawed at you, but there was no changing what had happened. You grabbed your things and walked down the hall, the entire situation feeling unfair.

When you reached the club’s floor, the place you once hated now felt like it was a part of you. The girls surrounded you, tears in their eyes. Kahi was nowhere in sight. You said goodbye to each of them, your heart breaking with each embrace, trying to hold back tears.

But they were your family, after all.

Pinky was the last to hug you, holding you tighter than anyone. Her tears soaked your shirt as she clung to you like you were her lifeline. You held her close, squeezing back.

Saying goodbye to the girls was hard, but parting from Pinky, someone you thought of as a little sister, the one who had made this place bearable, was even worse.

“Why are we being so dramatic?” Siyeon asked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “We’ll keep in touch, right? We have phones.”

Nayeon nodded, trying to stay composed, but her mascara was smeared all over her face.

“Where will you go?” Kyla asked, brushing hair from her face.

“I don’t know-” You admitted, gently stroking Siyeon’s arm. “But I’ll figure it out and call you once I find somewhere to stay.”

You sighed deeply, grabbed your sports bag, and turned to leave. But before you could take another step, you remembered something.

“Please tell Baekho I said goodbye, and that I hope everything works out for him. Can you do that for me?”

Kaeun nodded, her voice soft yet firm. “Of course. I’ll tell him.”

You hated goodbyes, especially because you never really got to say them before. Your father had left before you even knew how to speak, and your mother had just vanished.

With your backpack over one shoulder and your sports bag in hand, you opened the door and walked out. You glanced one last time at the club, the place that had been both hell and home to you.

You walked down the street, trying to come to terms with what had just ended.

At the end of the street, you stopped, unwilling to look back. But you did anyway. The club’s neon sign flickered off, a dim glow that mirrored the hollow feeling in your chest.

You dropped your bags and sat on the sidewalk, pulling out your phone. You stared at the screen, unsure if you should call. But you dialed anyway.

After what felt like an eternity, you saw a familiar car turn onto the street and park in front of you.

Yuta stepped out, confusion creasing his brow when he saw your bags.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his voice gentle but full of concern.

And just like that, you broke. The dam you’d been holding back all night crumbled, and the tears spilled out. You collapsed against him the moment he sat down next to you, your body shaking with the release.

“Kahi fired me.” You whispered through sobs. “She kicked me out.”

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023-2025

[mendeshoney]

apple of my eye, take a bite

A/N: surprise surprise! this is a part two to "a taste of the devine," with a special little halloween twist! to my lovelies, @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech happy halloween babes! the title is inspired by lyrics from the song “eve” by precious pepala

Summary: You and Andrei go to the team Halloween party at a club, and it takes Andrei down memory lane.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Word Count: 5,120

Warnings: five year age gap, older woman x younger man, fluff, previously established dynamics (including msub x fdom dynamics, switch, mdom x fsub dynamics), smut, semi-public sex (in a club), hints of biting/hickies, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

Russian terms used (bearing in mind the author does not speak Russian and definitely Google’d these) can be referenced here.

~

“I feel like this won’t make much sense,” Andrei quietly mumbles to himself, adjusting the ‘hat’ of his costume, his eyes casting to the side once he sees movement from inside the closet.

The sliding frosted glass door is closed, so he can only see your shadow as you move around, and he can feel himself start to get antsy.

You’d kept your part of the couples costume a shrouded secret from him, claiming you wanted to surprise him. 

As far as surprises go, he typically liked yours a lot, but given his current predicament, he found himself a little more anxious than normal.

He glances at himself in the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, running a cursory hand over the fuzzy material of his Halloween costume, and frowning a little at his reflection.

“Kroshka, I don’t-” He starts, cutting himself off and turning back toward the closet when he hears the sliding door open. 

You finally emerge, body in an emerald green mini dress that you’d sewed fake vines onto so that they curled and twisted around your figure, enhancing your silhouette, vines trailing down your shoulder and around your arms until they rested delicately on your wrists. Those beautiful legs of yours donned a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly. 

You looked a lot more like that character that Evgeny used to tease him for having a crush on when they were kids, Poison Ivy, than you did the biblical Eve.

Sukin syn.

Andrei’s hard in seconds, heart pounding furiously as his stomach flutters.

Babochki, he thinks. Butterflies.

He laughs suddenly, feeling nervous out of the blue. 

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body a little so he can get a better view.

“I think there’s butterflies in my stomach,” he says honestly, the words coming out faster than he can process, but when you flush deeply, he feels a twinge of satisfaction. 

“You still have a way with words, don’t you?” You tease, trying to look anywhere else but him, and he knows that strategy.

Sometimes, when you’re not sure how to receive his compliments, you try to brush them off, but tonight’s not a night Andrei can let that fly.

He can feel his hands twitching at his sides, and his feet are moving towards you before he even realizes, that familiar gravitational pull too strong to resist.

“Ty vyglyadish' krasivo, lyubov' moya.” He murmurs. You look beautiful, my love.

You smile at his words, his hands coming to rest on your waist and pull you closer. “Spasibo, malysh.” You finally seem to take in his costume, and you giggle lightly. “You look so cute!”

He frowns, brows pinched together. “I’m glad you think so.”

You smile, giggling a little more. “Of course I think so.”

“Remind me again why I couldn’t just be ‘Adam’ for Halloween?” He asks, fingers playing with a fake vine on your shoulder.

“Because no one cares about Adam,” you remind him gently. “The story’s about Eve and the Apple. Adam’s just there.”

Andrei pouts a little, turning back toward the mirror and staring at the apple suit that covers his upper half, the red hat on his head with the apple’s stem and a little leaf, and the dark brown pants on his legs. “I guess so,” he laments, then turns his gaze back to you.

You know him so well at this point that when the corner of your mouth quirks up in a small smile, he isn’t even surprised, and just smiles right back at you. “Don’t worry, shchenok, everyone still thinks you’re sexy.”

“I don’t care about everyone,” he says without a second’s hesitation. “Just you.”

A small flush works its way up your neck and cheeks. “I still think you’re sexy, too.”

Andrei’s heart pounds then, that familiar disbelief that he was able to call someone like you the love of his life surfacing in his chest. He bends his head, pride surging through his veins when you accept his kiss. 

“We should probably go soon,” you murmur against his mouth.

Andrei hums, shrugging. “Or we could stay home. Have our own little Halloween party.”

“Not an option, I’m afraid.” You say, and pull yourself out of his arms to head back into the closet. He watches, completely entranced, as you pull on a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly, and he can feel himself start to tent in his pants. 

“Kroshka,” he tries again, the word nearly getting caught in his throat, “Are you sure we can’t just-”

You cut him off by standing, grabbing your small clutch and his car keys, tossing a curt “Let’s go, moye yabloko” over your shoulder as you head to the garage.

Andrei glances at himself in the mirror one last time, offering his reflection a long-suffering sigh, before grabbing his wallet and trailing after you.

~

His teammates don’t laugh as much as he expected, which he supposes is because out of all the costumes tonight, he looks the least ridiculous.

Jesperi, Teuvo, and Sebastian are dressed as Alvin and the Chipmunks - Jesperi was elected to be Theo against his will, Teuvo gladly accepted the role of Simon because it meant he was the smartest, which left Sebastian as Alvin, who claimed it was only fair since his last name began with an ‘A’ - Freddie, Anti, Jacob, and Brett dressed up as Michaelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Rafael from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Brent was dressed as Sully from Monsters Inc, and those were just the costumes he managed to figure out on his own.

There were far too many others for him to keep track of or understand and some were just a headache to look at, so he ended up focusing on the one thing he knew would keep his attention - the way your ass moved in your dress as you walked through club toward the VIP section they’d reserved for the team party.

The girls complimented you on your outfit and assured Andrei that he looked cute instead of silly, and it only made him feel marginally better.

He was still dressed as a giant apple for the night, after all, while his bombshell of a girlfriend looked like a walking fantasy.

After you’d said hello to everyone, the two of you ended up separated, the girls heading out to the dancefloor, some of the guys heading to the bar to grab drinks and snacks, and the rest settling into the VIP section.

Andrei plopped down between Jesperi and Freddie, removing his costume’s hat and putting it on the little table in their section, tuning out most of the conversation happening within the first ten minutes and instead finding himself focused on you and that beautiful dress out on the dance floor.

His eyes were glued to you as you danced, lost in the familiar way your hips moved and how carefree you were. Other people may have needed a little bit of alcohol in them to be so uninhibited, but you didn’t. You never had.

Watching you now, it reminds him of the first night he met you.

It had been earlier this year, when the guys had been having a particularly rough week of games, and they’d gone out to a club to relieve some stress.

You’d been there with some of your friends, and Andrei had been feeling a little bit too confident after a few drinks. He’d locked eyes with you barely ten minutes after he’d arrived and couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole night, couldn’t seem to find the need to wander more than ten feet out of your orbit.

He finally found the courage to approach you after Martinook had all but threatened to send Freddie after you first, pushing off the bar and heading over to you. 

He tried the gentlemanly approach, introduced himself properly by taking your hand, and from that first touch there was this crazy electric wildfire of sexual tension that neither of you seemed to be able to deny. You didn’t seem disturbed by him being five years younger than you, and he couldn’t have cared any fucking less about you being twenty eight. 

He worried for maybe half a second about you not being able to understand him through his accent, but you had no problems with it, even beyond the blaring music of the club. Then, he offered to get you a drink or a bottle of water - whatever you wanted really, he didn’t care - before asking if you minded if he joined you for a dance.

One dance became two, then four, then six, and then the next thing he knew, you both had locked yourselves in a storage closet down the back hall of the club and he had you pinned against the wall, his jeans and boxer briefs around his thighs, your dress hiked up to your waist, thong pulled to the side, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you had to bite down on the meaty flesh of his shoulder to keep from crying out too loudly. 

You’d fucked twice in that closet before you took him back to your place and fucked another two times. In the morning, you’d managed to contain yourselves in the shower, but Andrei lost all restraint and licked your pussy on your kitchen table until your throat grew hoarse and your legs shook so much your table started to squeak.

He managed to rein it in and take you on a date two days later, and then you invited him out for dinner another three days after that. After about ten dates without any sexual interactions at all, and about a month in total of you actually knowing each other, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, and you both celebrated when you said ‘yes’ to him by locking yourselves in at his place and fucking like bunnies for about two days.

Andrei had learned everything about what you liked in bed in that first month, and you’d learned everything about what he liked. 

You’d also learned enough about one another that Andrei was pretty sure he’d end up marrying you and having about five or seven kids within the next seven years, because there was no possible way he’d ever manage to find someone as brilliant as you ever again.

And at this point, you’d barely been dating a year. 

He’d say he was probably moving too fast in any other circumstance, but he was pretty sure you were on the same page.

He feels a nudge in his side, and Andrei glances over, momentarily shocked because he’d completely forgotten his friends were dressed in costumes, and the orange fabric around Freddie’s eyes nearly scared him shitless for a second. 

“You want another drink? The chipmunks lost a bet so they’re buying for the night.” Freddie says, gesturing to where Jesperi had gotten up and was now writing down orders on his phone. 

“Sure,” Andrei says. “I’ll take one.”

Jesperi points to where you are on the dance floor and asks Andrei “One for her too, right?”, and when Andrei nods, Jesperi gives him a thumbs up before stalking over to the bar.

He has a feeling it’s going to take Jesperi awhile to put in the drink orders for the whole section, so Andrei resumes watching you, reminiscing on the day you first met and chiming in on the conversations around him every now and again.

You finally wander over with the girls once the drinks arrive, and Andrei immediately opens his arms, feeling content when you settle into his embrace and onto his lap. He hands you your drink, careful to keep your hair out of your face when you take a sip.

There’s a sound of fake retching, and you and Andrei cut your eyes to where Jesperi’s making faces at the two of you. You roll your eyes, settling into Andrei a little more, and he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you to him.

“Jealous, KK?” One of the other girls asks, and Jesperi’s nose scrunches.

“Hardly.” He scoffs. “I’m basically watching my older sister make out with one of my best friends. It’s disturbing.”

Andrei feels you stiffen in his arms, but Jesperi’s already turning away, and Andrei squeezes you gently. “Zajka?”

You turn to Andrei, a slightly stunned expression on your face. “I…does he really think of me that way?” 

“What way?” Andrei asks, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek. 

He can see the shock starting to settle in a little more. “Like an older sister?”

And though Andrei knows they’ve never really talked about it, because it’s not really a topic that would come up, he knows for certain the answer is yes. 

Especially after the way you looked after everyone during the beach trip this past summer, all Andrei heard for weeks during training camp and preseason was how much everyone missed your cooking, people asking how you were doing, and demands for him to bring you around more.

Since you’d barely been together for six months at that point, he didn’t push you about it at all because he didn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, even though he knew you liked everyone just fine. It was another thing he felt like would make it feel like this was going too fast, even though you’d probably be on the same page about this, too.

“I think a lot of them think that way.” He admits. “Pretty sure Freddie thinks of you as a younger sister. Burnsy too, to be honest.”

There’s a thoughtful look in your eyes now, and after a beat, you nod. “I didn’t know that.”

“Is that…is that okay?” He asks, slightly unsure. He doesn’t know that he’s seen you this…contemplative before.

You turn to Andrei, and give him that dazzling smile of yours he loves so much. “Of course it’s okay. Just took me by surprise a little.”

He nods, sitting up a little more so he can press a kiss to the base of your neck. “They love you as much as I do.”

Andrei’s surprised when his kiss makes you shiver a little, and he pulls back a bit, raising a brow at you.

You flush, suddenly bashful. “I just…” He raises a brow when you seem to be trying to find the words to say, and you gesture with your head towards the dancefloor. “Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

Realization hits Andrei and he smiles, nodding. “It does, zajka.” 

A sly, cheshire smile works its way onto your lips, and Andrei feels his heart begin to pound in anticipation. “Let’s see just how well you can tempt me a second time, moye yabloko.” 

You’re downing the rest of your drink and getting up from his lap faster than he can blink, and then you’re heading back out to the dancefloor with the girls. 

As Andrei watches you walk away, he catches the wink you send him over your shoulder before you disappear into the crowd, and he smirks to himself. 

Da nachnetsya igra.

Let the games begin.

~ 

Drink in hand, Andrei makes his way through the crowd, his puffy apple costume coming in hand by parting the crowd a little as he moves - he even has the ridiculous hat on again - until he finally reaches where you are in the middle of the dance floor. 

He taps gently on your shoulder, and when you turn around, your eyes look up at him curiously, a small smile on your face.

Andrei leans down so you can hear him better, saying “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, and I thought I’d introduce myself and bring you a drink.”

It’s not exactly what he said that first night, but it’s close enough. So what if he skipped a few cheesy lines?

You lean back a little, staring at the drink in his hand before taking it with a small amount of hesitation. “Thank you,” you say back, leaning in like he had. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“I’m Andrei,” he says, holding his hand out.

You take it, shaking it once when you tell him your name in return.

The nostalgia has those butterflies resurfacing in his stomach, and he tries his best not to smile like a total idiot. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You say, then smirk a little at his costume. “You know, I’m pretty sure I was warned to stay away from you.”

He laughs a little, stepping closer into your space. Bending down so he’s right next to your ear, he rests a hand on your waist and says “One bite won’t hurt.”

At your responding chuckle, Andrei feels goosebumps ignite on his arms. “I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s different this time,” he promises. “It’s just us. And there’s no punishment.”

“Sounds a little too good to be true,” you say, pulling away a little and taking a sip of your drink, blinking up at him from under your lashes.

Andrei rights himself, shrugging. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?” He gestures with his head towards a hallway that he’d confirmed about ten minutes ago had both a storage closet as well as what looked like an unused office full of boxes, but still came equipped with a couch and a perfectly solid desk.

He makes his way toward the hall, waiting for all of five minutes before you appear in front of him, the glass your drink was in now empty save for the cherry stem he already knew had a knot in it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you joke, taking careful steps toward him. 

He holds a hand out, pleased when you take it, and he leads you toward the end of the hall. The door to the storage closet is on the left, and the door to the empty office is on the right. He places you in front of him, his hands resting on your waist from behind.

“Pick a door, zajka.” He says softly. 

You hum a little, taking a step forward. You open the door on the right first, but there’s a small noise that leaves you, and Andrei’s confused when you don’t take a step inside. You open the door to the left, and the second you see the closet, you spin around, smiling wickedly at him before pulling him inside.

He flips you the second he crosses the threshold, shutting the door and locking it before pinning you against the wood, placing his arms on either side of your head. “Didn’t like the office?”

You shake your head, tilting your chin up, waiting. “Not the same.”

“I would’ve liked fucking you on the desk.” He admits, the image of it still fresh in his brain.

“You didn’t fuck me on a desk till I moved in with you.” You remind him.

He smirks. “Oh I remember,” he promises. “Hard to forget the time you made me come so hard I almost passed out.”

You shrug. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

He drops one of his hands from the door only to bring it up between you, running a finger down the side of your neck, to your collarbone, your chest, before teasing at the neckline of your dress. 

“If you rip this dress before you get me in your bed, moye yabloko, you’ll be sorry.” You warn, but even so, your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his touch.

Andrei smirks. He’s never been one to shy away from his punishments.

Instead, he trails his hand down your dress and to the hem, pushing it up your thighs until he can reach under it to bring his fingers to your core, pleased when he finds the fabric of your thong already soaked. 

“May I, moya koroleva?” He asks sweetly, eyes focused on where his hand lingers. 

You nod, breath hitching a little when he pulls your thong to the side and runs his finger between your folds. “I want it like the first time.”

Andrei blinks, eyes darting back up to your face. 

That first night was intense - and beautiful - but also not the kind of sex the two of you have most often. He likes to please you, likes taking his time warming you up or worshiping you the way he’s learned that you like best. Other than the occasional quickie, you two rarely ever just get straight to it.

“Can you take me like this? Right now?” He checks.

“I can,” you say. You reach forward, fingers finding one of the belt loops of his pants and pulling him forward. “Please, malysh. I don’t want to wait.”

His heart beats hard against his ribcage. 

It’s rare that you’re the one pleading for him, that you’re the one asking for it this way, and he can feel the way his breath starts to stutter as he tries to maintain his composure.

The second he nods in agreement, it’s a race to get inside of you.

In a hurry, the two of you work to unbutton and unzip his pants, shuffling them down his thighs along with his boxer briefs. His aching cock springs free, and before you can reach for him, he’s bending down to lift you up and pin you against the wall, helping to wrap your legs around his waist. 

He balances you in one arm as you press your weight into the wall, reaching down to line his cock up to your entrance. The second he can feel it catch, he presses in at the same time that you angle your hips downward, and he pushes until he’s seated all the way inside and his hips press yours against the wall.

You take a gasping breath, head lolling back as your eyes squeeze shut, arms flying to his shoulders and nails digging into the skin as your pussy grips him tightly. 

“Zajka?” He asks, worried. “Are you okay?” 

You nod, breathing harshly through your nose. “Move, malysh, spasibo. I need you.”

Andrei has a sudden feeling he’s going to have a hard time trying to remember to breathe if you keep talking.

Carefully, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock rests inside, and then he pushes back inside in one brutal stroke that seizes the breath from your lungs once more.

“Just like the first time,” he reminds you, before setting a rough and steady pace. 

Your moans fill the room in seconds, and Andrei doesn’t care anymore about who can hear you or who can’t. 

Especially when he knows you couldn’t care less about it either.

This time, you’re not at Freddie’s house and worried about making a good impression. 

You’re here, with him, pretending like it’s the first night you met all over again, except this time there’s less to be cautious of for both of you.

Although…

If you do want it like it’s the first time again…

“You can’t moan too loud, kroshka.” He says, pressing in closer to you as his strokes slow a little, dragging himself in and out of you with precision. “Don’t want anyone to hear how pretty you are when you’re dripping on my cock, do you?”

Recognition flashes in your eyes like a bright flame, and you capture your lip between your teeth, nodding obediently. 

“Need something to bite down on, my beautiful Eve?” He murmurs, gathering you up in his arms and pushing until he’s flush against you, tilting his head to expose his neck. “Do it, it’s okay.”

You wind your arms around his shoulder and lean forward, and when Andrei feels your lips on his neck, his whole body shivers, groaning at the way he can feel your teeth bite down before licking over the wound, then sucking a bruise into the skin.

That’s another thing the two of you don’t give a shit about anymore. 

Andrei’s all too proud to wear your marks like a badge of honor, so as you suck on his skin, feeling his pulse beneath your tongue, he knows you take notice of the way his cock drives deeper into you.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to manage a second round in this closet, too desperate to fill you up and then drag you home so he can do it over and over again.

When his hips stutter a little, you finally pull away from his neck, leaning back to examine your work, smiling proudly. “Such a pretty little thing, moye yabloko.”

Fuck.

It is just like the first night all over again.

Andrei remembers the dirty things you whispered to him then, too. He remembers how he’d never heard something so sultry, so sexy in his entire life. It somehow made him hornier, made him feel like he could go insane with how much it made him need you even more in that moment. 

It was like you knew exactly what to say and what to do to drive him insane, to make him feel like he would do anything to prove to you just how good he could be. 

“You’re the same good boy you were that first night, too,” You taunt again when he doesn’t respond, and a sharp hiss falls from his lips when you tug his hair harshly, prompting him to tilt his head up so he can look at you.

His knees nearly buckle, and he thrusts hard into you once in warning. 

“You can’t say things like that,” he breathes out, focusing on fucking into you in deep, hard strokes. 

“Why?” You breathe out, bringing your hands from his shoulders and tossing the hat of his costume off of his head before sinking your fingers into his hair. 

He shakes his head. Any other man might be embarrassed, but that’s never been a thing between the two of you, and especially not when you’re being intimate. 

“It makes me…u menya babochki.” Andrei admits, trying his best to stay focused. I get butterflies.

“Babochki?” You ask, tone just shy of a whine, slightly mocking him. “Do I give my pretty shchenok butterflies?”

He looks up when he feels your hand on his cheek, staring into your eyes, and he can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm just looking at you. You run your thumb over his lips as they part, resting the pad of it on his tongue before his cheeks hollow, sucking gently on the digit. 

You smirk, eyes rolling back in your head when Andrei gives a particularly hard thrust, causing your back to arch a little more and your body to press further against his. He can tell you’re getting closer, can read all your little tells. 

The way your chest starts to heave, how he can see your nipples starting to poke through the fabric of your dress, the way your body starts to go lax, thumb slipping from his mouth and hand moving to rest on his chest instead. 

“You gonna come for me?” You ask, tone somewhere between taunting and begging. 

Andrei nods furiously, welcoming the molten lava spreading across his spine as he finds solace inside of you. “Da, moya koroleva.”

“Gonna come inside of me?” This question is definitely a taunt. “Gonna fill up the pretty stranger the very first night?”

“I did it once,” he reminds you. “I’d do it again, but only for you.”

Your blinding, satisfied smile takes over your face and Andrei feels his heart fall to your feet in adoration. “Come with me,” he begs.

You nod, tilting your hips a little until he’s hitting that beautiful spot inside, and your eyes flutter shut, pussy squeezing tighter around him.

He loses all control after that, cock pounding into you in a frenzied, nearly manic pace, trying so hard to keep going for you while also chasing his own orgasm. 

When he feels you lock him in that familiar death grip, your come drenching his cock and making the slide oh so right, his eyes squeeze shut, and a loud, satisfied groan leaves his mouth as he throbs, spilling inside of you until he feels like he can’t breathe right.

For a moment, the two of you can only remain like that - you slumped and sated in Andrei’s arms and his hips pinning you to the wall. 

When he feels you begin to squirm, he carefully pulls out of you, then sets you back on your own two feet as gently as he can. He’s quick to locate a stack of paper towels behind him and grabs a few to help you clean up before pulling your thong back into place and tossing the paper towels into a trash can near the door.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, fussing with your dress.

Andrei nods, letting out a content sigh. “Beautiful as always. What about me?”

When you glance up at him, Andrei’s expecting the same, but then you blink, and a surprised laugh practically barks out of you. It startles him a little, and your hand is flying to cover your mouth, eyes glistening with delight.

“What?” He presses, starting to fuss with his own costume. “What is it?”

“Drei, how hard did you come?” You ask through fits of giggles.

“You said like the first night, so pretty hard.” He admits, unashamed. “Why?”

“You’re…you’re…” You can barely say it through your laughter. After a second, you take a deep breath, calming yourself, and then smile at him happily. “You’re as red as an apple.”

If he - apparently - wasn’t already red, he definitely would be by now. 

“How bad is it?” Andrei asks, rubbing at his face absently. 

You shrug. “No better and no worse than after a shift on the ice.”

He pouts, brows furrowing. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“It’s normal,” you explain. “It might be tough to explain away when we say goodbye to everyone in a minute, but it’ll be alright.”

“We’re going home?” He asks, already excited. 

You nod, shrugging your shoulders a little. “Pretty sure that’s what we did the first night, too.”

He smirks, stepping closer to you and pulling you to him by your waist. “We did a lot of things that first night. And the next morning.”

Your own cheeks flush now, and you nod. “That we did.”

“Feel like a trip down memory lane, kroshka?” He murmurs, already leaning down.

You rise up on your tiptoes, lips brushing against his when you say “I think that sounds lovely, malysh,” before kissing him softly.

[strljaem]

“because it's fun watching you get flustered.”

adapted by ; “my demon” kdrama.

💿 : drunk in love, beyoncé ft. jay-z.

The fight between Jaemin and me had been brewing for days. Tension simmered beneath the surface, waiting to explode at the smallest provocation. It finally did, with a remark from him that was more biting than usual, igniting a storm of angry words between us. His usual cocky smirk faded as I shot back with just as much venom. But then I crossed a line—mentioning something that hit too close to home. Jaemin's eyes turned cold, his jaw clenched, and he grabbed his jacket, leaving the apartment without another word.

The silence that followed was unbearable. The once lively and cozy apartment felt cavernous without him. The cluttered kitchen with his unfinished coffee cups and the living room where he liked to watch late-night dramas with me felt eerily empty. I tried to focus on work, meeting deadlines and attending meetings, but my thoughts kept drifting back to him. His absence was a heavy weight on my chest.

Days passed without a single message or call. It was as if Jaemin had disappeared from my life. I knew he was likely at his company, but I had too much pride to reach out first. I kept telling myself that if he wanted to come back, he would. Yet, every evening, I found myself pacing the living room, glancing at my phone, hoping for a notification that never came.

After a particularly restless night, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to see him, even if it meant confronting him at his company. I spent extra time getting ready, picking out a tailored black blazer over a crisp white blouse. My skinny jeans hugged my legs, and I wore my favorite black stilettos to add a touch of authority. I was determined to maintain my composure and not let him see how much I was affected by his absence.

The drive to Jaemin's company felt longer than usual. I parked in the underground garage and took the elevator to the main lobby. The building was a towering structure of glass and steel, its modern design gleaming in the evening light. As I stepped out of the elevator, the sheer grandeur of the lobby struck me—white marble floors, high ceilings, and intricate light fixtures that cast a warm glow. A massive chandelier hung in the center, casting patterns of light across the room.

The receptionist recognized me and gave me a polite nod as I walked toward the private elevators leading to the executive offices. The hallway was dimly lit, with black walls contrasting sharply with the brightness of the lobby. It was almost eerie, and my heels echoed loudly as I made my way to Jaemin's office.

His office was behind a large glass door, and as I pushed it open, I was greeted by a room that was both grand and imposing. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling, and a huge leather sofa sat beneath it. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with dark-colored volumes, and a grand piano sat in one corner. The atmosphere was heavy, almost oppressive, and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

Jaemin's CEO desk stood at the far end, a large nameplate reading "Na Jaemin" carved into a metal plaque. Despite the familiar setting, the room felt different—like something had changed. I walked slowly, taking in the scene. The silence was overwhelming, and I could almost hear my own heartbeat. As I approached the bookshelves, my fingers grazed along the spines of the books. Everything was meticulously arranged, each book perfectly aligned.

One book, in particular, caught my eye—a dark green volume that seemed slightly out of place. I reached to pull it from the shelf, but as I did, a hand pushed it back forcefully, making my heart jump. I turned, startled, and there was Jaemin, standing just inches away.

He looked different from the last time I'd seen him. His jet-black hair was wet, falling across his forehead, and he wore a blue cardigan with gray sweatpants. His chest was exposed, revealing his chiseled abs. His eyes had a dangerous glint, and he crossed his arms as he stared at me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low and edged with annoyance.

I swallowed, trying to regain my composure. "I came to see why you haven't been home," I replied, attempting to sound confident despite the racing of my heart.

Jaemin's lips curled into a smirk. "I figured you needed some space to cool off," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You seemed pretty angry last time we talked."

"That's because you were being impossible," I shot back, my irritation rising. "You just left without a word!"

He shrugged, still maintaining that infuriating smirk. "Maybe I needed a break from the constant nagging," he retorted.

I felt my temper flare, but I kept it in check. "So, is this what you do when you need a break? Lock yourself in your office?" I gestured around the room, emphasizing the emptiness.

Jaemin's smirk widened. "It's quiet here. No one to bother me," he said, his tone teasing.

I crossed my arms, not willing to back down. "Well, it's time to stop hiding and come back home," I said firmly. "Or do you plan on staying here forever?"

Jaemin's eyes flickered with amusement. "Maybe I will," he said with a playful shrug. "I kind of like it here."

I was about to retort when I noticed the golden necklace around his neck—a demon face pendant that seemed almost out of place given his casual attire. It was a stark contrast to his otherwise relaxed look. Jaemin followed my gaze and raised an eyebrow.

"Pervert," he said with a smirk, noticing I had been staring at his abs.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, but I quickly regained my composure. "Why do you have to make everything into a joke?" I shot back, my irritation showing.

Jaemin chuckled softly. "Because it's fun watching you get flustered," he replied, his voice smooth and teasing.

I took a step back, crossing my arms in defiance. "Fine, then stay here if you want," I said, turning to leave. "But don't expect me to come running after you again."

I reached for the door, but it was locked. I frowned and tried to turn the doorknob again, but it wouldn't budge. Jaemin leaned against the bookshelves, watching me with amusement.

"Why'd you lock the door?" I demanded, my frustration growing.

"Because I knew you'd try to leave without a proper conversation," he said, his tone almost playful.

I felt my anger boiling over. "Unlock it now," I insisted, my voice sharp. "Or I'll scream."

Jaemin laughed softly. "Scream all you want," he said, his eyes gleaming. "No one's here except us."

I was about to yell when Jaemin teleported in front of me, his hand wrapping around my waist and his other hand covering my mouth. The sudden closeness made my heart race, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. His eyes locked onto mine, and I could see the hint of golden light in them—a sign of his demon nature.

"Shh," he whispered, his voice low and gentle. "I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to hurt you."

His hand slid from my mouth to my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel his heart beating against my chest, and the intensity of his gaze was overwhelming. I stuttered, trying to keep my cool. "It's fine," I said softly. "Just... let me go. I'll wait for you at home."

Jaemin hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching mine. But then he released me, stepping back with a slight smile. "We'll see if I come back," he said, teasingly. "Don't get your hopes up."

I rolled my eyes and turned to unlock the door, feeling my cheeks burning with embarrassment and anger. "Whatever," I muttered, opening the door and storming out. As I walked down the hallway, I could still feel his touch on my waist, and my heart was racing from the encounter.

The drive back home was filled with a mix of emotions—anger, confusion, and something else I couldn't quite place. The way Jaemin had held me, the intensity of his gaze—it was different from the way he had been during our arguments. It was almost tender, yet still teasing in his own infuriating way.

When I arrived back at the apartment, I felt a surge of frustration. I had expected him to be contrite, to apologize and agree to come home, but he was as infuriatingly confident as ever. I wasn't sure if he was coming back, and that uncertainty gnawed at me. Despite my anger, I knew that if he showed up at the door, I wouldn't be able to turn him away.

But Jaemin was unpredictable, and I wasn't sure what he would do next. Would he stay at his company, enjoying the solitude and quiet, or would he come back to our shared home, ready to make amends? As I sat in the empty apartment, waiting, I knew one thing for sure—Jaemin had a way of keeping me on edge, and I hated that I couldn't seem to stay angry at him for long.

[writingwithina]

I Miss You I'm Sorry

Pairing- Charles leclerc x reader

Content- Angst

Word Count- 1462 words

Author's Note: Hello lovely people! This is the first ever fan fiction that I've written. I would love it if you could give it a read and let me know what you thought of it.

Read part two here

It had been fate that they had actually met. Lewis had begged her to come clubbing with him and his colleagues before they had to leave for the Australian Grand Prix. Y/n had no interest in going to a club and sitting amongst a pool of sweaty bodies and the stench of alcohol. But she could not resist Lewis' manipulative attempts at trying to get her out of finishing her marketing assignment. That was the thing about someone who knew you ever since you were a baby. They knew exactly which strings to pull to get you to give into their demands. So there Y/n was in a black dress and black stilettos, sipping on a margarita and chatting with Lewis.

"I want you to meet someone", Lewis said with a bright glint in his eyes. Y/n knew this meant only one thing- trouble.

" The last time you asked me to meet someone, it ended with me in bed with a guy who loved to recite the American Constitution while having sex. "

" Oh, yeah that was a mistake on my part. But I promise I know this person personally. And I've a feeling you guys are gonna get along really well. Just give him a chance. "

Y/n was sceptical but decided to give it a chance. What's the worst that could happen?

Lewis beckoned someone over his shoulder. Y/n couldn't make out the silhouette of the person who had come over.

" Hi! I'm Charles", the person said. As he came closer Y/n could make out the outline of his blush pink lips and his dimpled cheeks. A faint pink crept up on his cheeks as they held eye contact. As cliche and cheesy as it sounds, Y/n felt the world around her stop. It was as if they were the only two people there.

Their relationship just blossomed from there on. It didn't feel real , how easy their relationship was and how much they enjoyed each other's presence. It was as if they both had found the piece in their lives they didn't even know was missing. They were each other's haven.

"Do you think we will ever get married? ", Charles had asked Y/n out of the blue one day. They were on a vacation to Ibiza. It was late in the evening and they were cuddling on the balcony of their hotel room.

" Do you want to get married? " Y/n questioned nervously. They hadn't talked about marriage before but a blissful feeling washed over her at the thought of them being married.

" Yeah… I want to marry you but in a year maybe. We are both busy with our careers right now. I want to give you your dream wedding and it wouldn't be fair of me to ask you to marry me when I know I won't be fully there for you."

Y/n couldn't believe that Charles really wanted to marry her. They had been together for a year at this point so talking about marriage was a logical step in the relationship. Still it was surprising that Charles loved her enough to want to marry her and spend the rest of their lives together.

Everyone talks about the beautiful parts of a relationship but nobody teaches you about the ugly ones. No one prepares you for the screaming matches in the middle of the night. No one prepares you for the distance that arises suddenly. It is funny how one moment Y/n and Charles were so in love and the other, they were fighting because Charles loaded the dishwasher wrong.

Neither of them knew how to deal with this, how to deal with the fights, the distance, the separation. It became exhausting for them to love one another. The love which once felt like freedom, like waking up on a Sunday morning and realising you have no school now felt like a cage, a restriction. Neither Charles nor Y/n knew how their relationship took a turn for the worse and they didn't understand how to tackle the problems. The dreams of marriage and kids and a white picket fence house seemed so far away now.

It was Charles' idea to take a break. " We are draining each other. Maybe a break would do us good " were his words. Y/n didn't question it because she knew a break would be beneficial for them. She thought that they would get back together after two-three months. Little did she know just how wrong she was.

Charles took the "break" better than Y/n. Where Y/n's days were wrapped with grief and pain of losing her partner, Charles was seen out partying and going on vacations with his friends. Y/n wondered whether Charles had felt any sadness after the break. She wondered if he too found himself reaching for her every morning or calling her name as soon as he came home only to realise she wasn't there. Because she did. She found Charles in everything she did. She missed him dearly. She missed how she forgot everything as soon as Charles had his arms around her. She missed the feeling of his kisses. She missed seeing him the first thing in the morning and the last one before she slept. She hadn't realised just how much their lives had been entwined until Charles left. But she told herself that it won't be long before they resolve their issues and get back together. Everyday she would tell herself, just a few more days and then everything will be fine.

They didn't see each other until November. The racing season was over and Lewis decided to throw a party to celebrate a great season. Y/n hadn't planned on coming but Lewis begged her and she couldn't resist him. She didn't know how she would face Charles. What would she say? It had been 6 months since they decided to take a break and he hadn't reached out to her even once. While a part of her was angry and bitter, another part of her was excited to see her love again. Maybe today they will talk at length and rekindle their relationship. Y/n arrived at the party with a racing heart and hopeful mind. She greeted the other drivers and looked for Charles. Everyone around her was apprehensive about talking about Charles to her. She felt they were hiding something from her.

Charles arrived a while later. He was talking to Pierre at the bar when Y/n spotted him. She approached him with a soft smile. She felt uneasy by the way Charles' smile dropped and instead a look of trepidation fell over his face as he saw her. As soon as she opened her mouth to say something, a brunette approached Charles.

" Mon amour where did you disappear? I have been searching for you", the brunette said to him as she softly kissed him.

Y/n left without saying anything. She felt embarrassed and stupid and angry. She sat on the swing in Lewis' garden with tears streaming down her face. It became clear to her why Charles hadn't tried to contact her.

Charles came running outside. He didn't say anything as he sat on the swing beside her.

"How long? " Y/n questioned him.

" Three months. "

" Does she make you happy? "

" Y/n, I - I was going to tell you, I just didn't know how, I-I never intended for you to find out this way. I'm so-"

"Just answer the question Charles. "

Charles took a deep breath and then whispered a quiet "yes".

Y/n wiped her tears and nodded her head. She knew she had to leave. She couldn't be near him. She stood up, wiped her hands on her dress and said, " I really loved you, you know? Even during the fights, on the days where we wouldn't speak to each other, I loved you. I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy Charles. I really am. I hope you find happiness and love in her that you couldn't in me. "

Y/n didn't wait to hear what Charles had to say. She just left. She knew it would take some time to get over him, to get over the love she once had. But she will learn to live her life without him. She will try her best to forget the eyes that became her home. She will discard the memories they shared and she will try to forget the way his voice felt when it said her name. She will grow and she will hope to find someone who loves her unconditionally. But most importantly she hopes that Charles will realise what he lost before it's too late.

[bardic-tales]

OC-tober: Day Five: Re-Designed OC

Bianca Moore is a character that had the most change in terms of character development and character design. As she is the oldest OC I have, she changed as I matured in both age and talent. It's interesting to see how I changed as an author, too.

When she was originally created, Bianca was a human who was born on Gaia, the world of Final Fantasy 7. She was the daughter of a Shinra scientist, so she was born into the company and naturally followed in her mother's footsteps; her father, absent from her life. She would see the corruption, try to support Sephiroth through his experiments, and mourn for Gaia after the events of the Nibelheim Incident. Her design was blonde hair, blue eyes, and a white lab coat.

Now, Bianca is a fallen angel and the daughter of Asmodeus and Seraphine. She was born to be a living weapon: to end the Omniverse and rebuild it back into something better. This is a destiny her father often exploits, as he sees the End of the World prophecy, and one where Bianca ultimately rejects. Her mother would sacrifice herself to send Bianca into the future and womb of Seraphine's most faithful, Sarah. She spent her entire life thinking she was human until her father brutally attacks her to awaken both her demonic and celestial blood. She was on the run from a cult devoted to her father, has been sent to feudal Japan by her first husband to protect her from Asmodeus, and arrived on Gaia wounded via a cosmic portal when Sephiroth learned his origins.

After she is brutally experimented on, her dna altered with Jenova and S-cells which slumbered her angelic blood, and made an arduous trip from Nibelheim to North Crater with the help of Sephiroth through an Sephiroth clone called SC X, she appointed herself as a 'High Priestess of Jenova' in the crater and devotes herself to the downfall of the species who has always tortured her (humans) and helping Sephiroth realize his goal as being a god. She is bonded with him through a string that always connected them.

As for character design changes, she has blonde hair, blonde hair, and gold eyes in her angelic form. She has stiletto nails, fangs for her canines and molars, and a prehensile tongue. She will often wear white kimonos with black embroidery in Feudal Japan.

Once she falls from Grace, her appearance shifts once again. Her hair turns brown with purple highlights to it, indigo eyes, and black wings infused with indigo, to symbolize her infusion with Jenova cells. She wears smoky eyeshadow and black eyeliner with shimmery pink lip gloss.

She has a battle and every day attire. For her battle attire, she wears a shiny black trench coat, biker's vest, finger-less gloves, leather trousers, lace-up knee-high combat boots. Because she cannot use her angelic greatsword anymore due to falling from Grace, she will use a demonic tachi called Noctemaris. This is her father's sword that caused her injury before she came to Gaia. She pulls the blade part of the tachi from the dimension between space and time. Her color scheme is dark: blacks and dark grays.

For her every day attire, she typically wears a trench coat, soft sweaters, slacks, and fur-lined boots. She likes to pair this with mirrored sunglasses and gloves and mittens. Her color palette is white to light beige here. For both attires, she always wears a white ribbon. This ribbon is a gift that her love interest gave her right before the madness took him.

[danika-redgrave124]

Umbra Witch Yuu Umbran Elegance (Staff)

Dire Crowley

Fragrance: Nocturnal Flight

Assigned Weapon: Raven's Requiem

Scent Profile: A mysterious and alluring blend of night-blooming jasmine, dark musk, and a hint of earthy patchouli, capturing the enigmatic and shadowy nature of the raven.

Bottle Design: The bottle is shaped like a raven in mid-flight, with the glass tinted in a gradient of deep black to smoky gray. The raven’s wings form the elegant curves of the bottle, with the cap resembling a raven’s head.

Costume: Shadowfeather Ensemble

Overall Look: A sleek and enigmatic outfit inspired by the mystique of ravens. The ensemble features a form-fitting, black suit with feather-like patterns that shimmer in the light, creating an otherworldly effect. The suit is adorned with subtle raven motifs, and the cape flows like a cascade of dark feathers.

Accessories: A raven-feathered collar that rises around Yuu's neck, talon-like gloves with intricate feather details, and a feathered headpiece that adds to her mysterious presence.

Hairstyle: Yuu's hair is styled into a sleek, high ponytail with black feathers woven throughout, giving it a sharp, avian edge.

Special Effects: When Yuu moves, wisps of shadowy feathers trail behind her, and when they attacks, the pistols release dark, feathered projectiles that dissolve into flocks of spectral crows. The crows’ cries echo faintly, enhancing the eerie atmosphere.

Divus Crewel (Cruella De Vil)

Fragrance: Fierce Glamour

Assigned Weapon: Couture Chic

Scent Profile: A bold and luxurious fragrance that blends rich leather, smoky vetiver, and a hint of spicy pepper, embodying the audacious and fashionable spirit of Cruella De Vil.

Bottle Design: The bottle is sleek and elongated, resembling a designer perfume bottle with black and white stripes. The cap is adorned with a faux fur detail, giving it an extravagant, high-fashion feel.

Costume: Dalmatian Diva Ensemble

Overall Look: A striking and avant-garde outfit inspired by Cruella De Vil’s iconic black-and-white aesthetic. The ensemble features a form-fitting black dress with white, fur-trimmed accents and Dalmatian spots integrated into the design. The look is completed with a dramatic, asymmetrical coat that flows behind Bayonetta as she moves.

Accessories: Elegant black gloves with faux fur cuffs, a statement choker with a large gemstone, and thigh-high boots with Dalmatian spot patterns.

Hairstyle: Yuu's hair is styled into a bold, half-black, half-white look, with an exaggerated, voluminous wave that adds to the outfit’s dramatic flair.

Special Effects: Each time Yuu attacks, the whips emit stylish, shimmering energy slashes that leave behind trails of sparkling light, adding a touch of high-fashion elegance to every strike.

Fragrance: Midnight Schemes

Assigned Weapon: Wicked Stilettoos

Scent Profile: A sophisticated and intoxicating blend of black rose, smoky sandalwood, and a hint of bitter almond, embodying the elegant yet sinister aura of Lady Tremaine.

Bottle Design: The bottle is a sleek, dark glass with intricate silver filigree and a stiletto heel-shaped cap, exuding a sense of refined malevolence.

Costume: Shadowed Aristocrat Ensemble

Overall Look: A regal yet ominous outfit inspired by Lady Tremaine’s aristocratic style. The ensemble features a high-collared, floor-length gown in deep shades of black and midnight blue, with sharp, angular lines that emphasize Bayonetta’s silhouette. The gown is adorned with subtle, shimmering details that resemble dark magic weaving through the fabric.

Accessories: Black, lace gloves, a jeweled brooch shaped like a stiletto heel, and a delicate, veiled headpiece that adds an air of mystery and authority.

Hairstyle: Yuu's hair is styled into a sleek, elegant updo, with strands of hair woven into intricate patterns that mimic the gown’s dark enchantments.

Special Effects: With each strike, the Wicked Stilettoos leave behind a trail of dark energy that lingers in the air, adding an ominous glow to the battlefield. The enemies caught in this energy are more susceptible to the enchantments, ensuring they turn on each other.

Fragrance: Wild Valor

Assigned Weapon: Hunting Crossbow

Scent Profile: A bold and invigorating blend of forest pine, smoky cedarwood, and a hint of spicy clove, capturing the essence of the wild and untamed spirit of a hunter.

Bottle Design: The bottle is designed to resemble a rugged, outdoor flask, with a wooden texture and antler-shaped stopper, giving it a rugged, adventurous feel.

Costume: Grand Huntsman Ensemble

Overall Look: A striking outfit inspired by Gaston’s grandiose style, featuring a muscular, armored look combined with rugged, hunting gear. The ensemble includes a fitted vest with elaborate leather detailing, reinforced with metal plating for a tough appearance. The design incorporates elements such as fur accents and hunting trophies, creating a bold and imposing silhouette.

Accessories: A broad, leather belt with utility pouches, fingerless gloves, and sturdy, high-top boots with reinforced soles.

Hairstyle: Yuu's hair is styled in a strong, confident manner, a high ponytail, emphasizing her readiness for action and adventure.

Special Effects: Each time Yuu fires the crossbow, the explosive bolts create a dramatic visual effect of blazing trails and impact bursts, highlighting the power of the weapon. The shockwaves from the explosions ripple across the battlefield, adding to the sense of overwhelming force.

Fragrance: Voodoo Enigma

Assigned Weapon: Shadowed Voodoo

Scent Profile: A mysterious blend of dark musk, smoky incense, and a hint of exotic spices, capturing the essence of voodoo magic and dark rituals.

Bottle Design: The bottle is shaped like a mystical totem, adorned with voodoo symbols and dark crystal accents. Its surface has a shimmering, shadowy appearance that reflects the dark magic of the weapon.

Costume: Arcane Sorcerer Ensemble

Overall Look: A captivating outfit inspired by Dr. Facilier’s theatrical and mystical style. The ensemble features a long, flowing coat with intricate voodoo patterns and a dramatic high collar. The coat is complemented by dark, elegant trousers and a waistcoat adorned with occult symbols.

Accessories: A wide-brimmed hat with a voodoo mask motif, a pair of dark gloves with magical sigils, and a cane with a glowing, enchanted orb.

Hairstyle: Yuu's hair is styled in an elegant, sweeping manner, possibly with dark, mystical accents or accessories that enhance the magical theme.

Special Effects: As Yuu wields the Shadowed Voodoo, shadowy tendrils of dark energy swirl around them, and mystical hexes appear in the air. Enemies affected by the shadowy spirits have a visible curse mark, emphasizing the power of the weapon.

[metamorphosisff]

|Chapter 13| Goodnight Gotham

(Authors Note: For an amplified reading experience, listen to the songs mentioned here. Enjoy 🧡)

“Oh we about to turn it.”

Standing in front of me is Jazz alongside another one of her other honorary daughters who went by Chanel. Together these two had made Mari and I seem like we had always been a part of the House of Illusion. There were seven of us in total dressed impeccably waiting for our turn to enter the raucous ballroom down the hallway, live with colorful commentary, and beat pumping music. Tonight the theme the houses were competing over was intergalactic odyssey. We had been made up to look like sirens from outer space, with our glittery makeup, and tight aquamarine spandex outfits that left very little to the imagination.The reflective sequins sewed on gave off the effects of us having gills. On our skin were tribal markings similar to those from the movie Avatar. Chanel was a trained makeup artist who worked on movie sets all over the city. It took her less than an hour to get us ready. The look while far fetched and last minute were stunning on us both. Though I promised Mari a spectators view, I can tell she was excited to be pulled into the chaos of Jazz’s world, and so was I even though I was scared shitless. 

This was not what Jazz had initially told me to expect. I should have known something was up when Jazz told me to leave my hair in braids because she had an idea. Currently my braids were intertwined with a mix of blue and green tinsel, styled in a crown that glimmered underneath the lights from every angle, adorned with gold cuffs and pearls. Mari’s curly mane had been wrangled into a fishtail braid using the same materials. The style showcased her cat like eyes and siren lips in a way normally hidden by her hair. 

“Wow,” I breathed out, not believing the reflection I was looking at was my own. “You made me look so beautiful, thank you Chanel.”

“No honey, that was God. All I did was embellish here and there,” Chanel said with a wink. 

“I’d pay you to embellish me everyday if I could. I look good enough to eat,” Mari cracked, phone already in hand, snapping a million pictures. 

Neither of us got to have much fun, Mari even less than me, and watching her get excited helped my nerves some. 

“I know that’s right. Keep that attitude when we hit that floor. Ma’ I’ma go check on the boys,” Chanel said, grabbing her kit to go to the room next door.

“Thank you boo, We’re meeting in that hall in five minutes. Don’t want to hear nothing from Lionell about us being late,” Jazz said, as she brushed at imaginary flyaways with her hands. 

Jazz looked otherworldly in the silver sequined bodysuit that had flounce sleeves that were cut in the style the seventies were known for. A forty inch platinum blonde wig waved down her back, the tips dyed in the same sea green color as the tinsel weaved in our hair. Her makeup was flawless, eyes bejeweled by hundreds of rhinestones while her cheeks were carved out of metallic silver. Pointy stiletto nails dipped in the same metallic shade could poke an eye out but she wielded them carefully and strategically as she delegated tasks to get us floor ready.There were also the pair of jewel encrusted six inch heel less platform boots that went mid thigh she had to put on. She was a vision, an all knowing force, and carried herself as such. 

“How do you do this all of the time?” I asked in awe.

“When I was younger, the answer to that question would have been drugs,” Jazz cracked, as she turned away from the vanity mirror to look at me. “But now, it’s love. I love ballroom, the culture, the people, and my family. These kids come from all walks of life abandoned and found fellowship under my roof. It keeps me going.”

That’s exactly who we were. Abandoned kids forced into adulthood before we were ready. Being around Jazz’s house felt like what a home should be: warm and inviting. 

Leaning forward, I grab her hand, and give it a squeeze. “Thank you for being you to me even when I didn’t deserve it. You mean the world to me and I’m honored to be considered one of your daughters. I’ve missed having a mom.”

Jazz lips tremble as she tries to offer a watery smile. “Chile, don’t get me to crying this close to showtime. Damn you Birdie.”

I chuckle softly before saying, “I love you too Jazz.”

“Aww, now I’m crying. Que linda,” Mari sniffles, snapping pictures of Jazz and I.

Jazz gives my hand one last squeeze before slipping her hand away in order to clap two times. “There will be none of that. Chanel will kick all of our asses if these beats get undone by water works and if you think I’m scary, you have seen nothing yet.”

“Yes ma’am,” Mari says, quickly reaching for a napkin to pat against her face.

“Now, we only have a few minutes. Let’s practice your walks.”

And like that, we are back into the whirlwind of the ball. In literally three minutes, Jazz choreographs a walk for each of us respectively. Whispering in both of our ears what our motivations should be and loudly declaring to keep it to ourselves until after we handle business lest we get confused. 

Worthy. You are worthy, Birdie. To be in this building, to be in that room, to be in this world. Show them bitches the respect you demand with that crown. 

I let Jazz’s voice play in my head on a loop as we lined up in the hallway. As we pumped our way through the crowd that parted like the red sea at the sight of Jazz leading us. A mix of Beyoncé’s Alien Superstar played at deafening levels as we reached the center of the room. As soon as the first verse dropped we each hit our individual marks. The boys: Danté and Kevion began tumbling, landing into dips before launching into new school voguing choreography in tandem with Chanel and Ruby. Jazz was serving face in the center of the floor, commanding attention while Mari and I weaved through what Jazz had called an alien invasion. The lyrics pulsed through me as I swayed my hips, letting my hands rove over my body making sure to highlight my waist like Jazz said I should. We met on either side of Jazz right on time for the last dips of the piece. While the dancers hit the ground, Mari and I dropped low, holding onto Jazz’s legs dramatically, an act of deference to the house mother.

When I came back to myself it was to see that we have garnered three 10’s  and one 9 as scores from the judges. I am so amazed that Mari has to tug me back into action as we walk off of the floor so the remaining houses could walk. I remain in this daze when we go up for second prize, collecting a trophy that would be added to the House of Illusions trove for the night. Chanel wins first place in Femme Queen, Jazz wins first in Femme Queen Face ,Ruby wins first in Female Figure, Kevion wins second in Old Way versus New Way, and Danté wins second in Male Sex Siren. There is cause to celebrate which we do as the ball turns into a full fledged party once the categories wrap up.

I’ve never felt as free as I do amongst my friends, old and new. I am happy I get to call them family and hope that with time I earn the right to do so without Jazz’s influence. In the interim, I imbibe drinks, and dance with them like it’s something we have all done hundreds of times before. The magic of ballroom is the community because it builds you up in a way where you can stand alone but you don’t have to. The House of Illusion has instilled in me the confidence to go after everything I want. To reach out and grab anything I claim as mine because the world is for the taking.  A power that might slip away with the first highlights of dawn. I have to capitalize on it while it lingers in my bones. Pulling out my phone I sent a quick text: I want to see you.

It vibrates with a response instantaneously. 

I want to see you more. Your place or mine?

From the moment I walked through the door, Xavier encircled his arms around me, bringing me close. He smells like a hint of smoke, alcohol, and cologne as he’s just come in not too long before me after hanging with his friends. I want to nuzzle my face into his neck but refrain due to my makeup and all of the glitter I am doused in. Instead, I place my hands on top of his and sink further into his embrace. 

“Think I need you to save this lil outfit for when I take you and Papi to Comic Con,” he said, pressing a kiss onto my neck.

I giggled as I turned in his arms to face him. “I’m not even a real character. This is Jazz’s creation.”

“Don’t matter,” he said, pressing another kiss to my lips. “Remind me to thank her, you look good as hell.”

“Thank you. Help me get out of it?” I ask, smiling up at him.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, before hoisting me into his arms. I squeal as he playfully tosses me over his shoulder and leads the way to the bathroom. He hits the lights and turns on the shower before setting me on the counter. “You are shining.”

“I know,” I groan. “They covered me from head to toe with something called Diamond Bomb by Rihanna.”

“Nah, I’m not talking about that. Your eyes, your smile, hell your energy is transcendent,” he says, causing my cheeks to heat up.

“You're always saying things to me that I have no idea how to respond to,” I say softly, meeting his gaze.

Always affirming.

Always recognizing.

Always present.

Stepping closer, he invades the space between my legs as leans down so that his nose can tease mine. “Is that a bad thing?” he asks.

“No,” I answer quickly, leaning forward when he places his hands on my hips. The warmth from his palms radiating outward. 

“Sometimes it’s okay to just say thank you babe,” he says, lips hovering over mine. “Or smile at me the way you do that makes your eyes disappear.”

I laugh and he absorbs the sound with a kiss. My hands fly to his torso as our kiss goes from innocent to urgent. In a flash my fingers are under his shirt and helping to lift it from his shoulders. Next to go is the bralette I’m wearing. We undress each other with a franticness that can only belong to new lovers. His touch is gentle and appreciative when I’m fully bare before him. 

“Look at me,” he says, pulling back from our kiss. 

My eyes flutter open at the command and meet his heady stare. Gone is the Xavier who bides his time. This version of him knows the best use of the seconds that drag by. In his eyes I see his desire for me unravel and marvel in it. All the while he trails his thumb over my bottom lip, swiping side to side, until he slips it into my mouth. Instinctively I suckled it causing him to groan before pulling me into another searing kiss. 

I widen my legs further as I scoot to the edge of the counter. “I need you,” I breathe against his lips. My hands are roving against the sides of his torso, ghosting over hard, well defined planes of muscles.

“Okay,” he says, pulling my bottom lip into his mouth to nibble on. “Okay.”

Reaching down, I watch as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket and grabs a condom. He smirks as he catches my eye. I motion for him to come fill the space between my thighs once more which he doesn’t hesitate to do. He licks into a kiss the same time his fingers push inside of me. My lips tear away but that doesn’t stop him from covering me in equally as hungry kisses starting down the column of my throat as my head tilts back. He kisses me on the hum of my pulse, biting down gently as his thumb finds my clit.

My nails are digging into his biceps but he doesn’t let that deter him from working me into a fast orgasm. One that preps me for him pushing himself in so deeply that my breath is caught in my chest. Instinctively, my hips roll forward meeting his thrust. 

“Shit,” I curse, releasing his biceps so that I can slam my hands against the counter. 

“Talk to me, this shit feeling good to you? Huh?” he questions, yanking on braids so that my eyes pop open. 

“So good Xay, please, just like this,” I moan, as he steadily strokes me to what I’m sure will be the best orgasm of my life. 

He dips his head so that he can capture a nipple in his mouth. His teeth graze the sensitive flesh and I arch into it and the oncoming stroke in a way that makes us both groan out. A hand holds the back of his head close, lovingly, as he laps at my other nipple. All while feeding me steady strokes that don’t ease up in pressure or frequency. Thanks to the gym Xavier’s stamina is out of this world. Our bodies move in a tandem dance, working with each other to bring us both pleasure. Regardless of the steam filling the air, I’m warm all over because of him.

It’s the way he folds against me, whispering things that would make a nun blush in my ear while holding my legs straight up. The position leaves me unable to do anything but moan and succumb to the promise of his desire. With both of my ankles in one hand, he uses the fingers on the other to rub figure eights onto my clit.

“Xayyy please,” I said, hands reaching to grab onto something because the counter no longer feels like enough. I settle onto the forearm of his left hand, the one that’s supplying sweet torture.

My gaze lifts to meet his, which is unsurprisingly locked onto my face. His bottom lip is wedged under his top row of teeth, arms bulging from how tightly he holds onto me, and the view makes squeeze onto him.

“Fuck,” he curses, hips slowing momentarily. “Do it again.”

And because I’m such a great listener I do. 

I do it again and again as he places sloppy kisses behind my knees that are my undoing. If I were to pass away in this very moment then it would be worth it having been experienced by this man. The reverent cry that escapes my lips is proof of that sentiment. There is banging on the opposite side of the wall but we don’t care. Nothing matters in this moment but he and I, the shared breaths we take, the trembles we place in one another’s spines. We don’t stop until we’re both utterly spent.

Somehow we end up in the living room, sprawled out on top of one another while Sade’s Stronger Than Pride vinyl spins on the record player. It took another round in the shower and then a thirty minute joint effort of trying to rid my skin of makeup before we left the bathroom. I’m dressed in a Thor t-shirt that barely grazes my thighs as they drape over his legs. My phone is in his hands as he goes through all of the pictures I managed to take tonight as well as the ones that have been sent to me sporadically from my new friends. I watch as he stops on one of Mari and me, mid laughter, drinks in hand. For once we actually look our age.

“Y’all look so much alike that you could be sisters. How did y’all meet? I want to know the origin story,” he says.

“We have lived next door to each other our whole lives. I don’t know a day where she’s not in it in some kind of way,” I said, strumming my fingers on top of his chest to the beat of the current song.

“Our brothers were super close too before Lonso moved away. After he left, Mari’s brothers got pulled toward the streets. The summer of our junior year they robbed this drug dealer in our neighborhood. That man was known for being vicious and as soon as word got back that it was them it was all downhill. Her second oldest brother Ramon was killed outside of his highschool and a few weeks later Martin, the eldest got locked up for killing that same drug dealer in retaliation. He’s serving life upstate and her parents went back to DR right after we graduated. During this time I was almost evicted three times and was struggling to survive.”

Xavier’s hold on my waist tightens as I go through memories in my mind. They play vividly as I try to sum up the hardest time in my life. “And through it all, we looked out for one another. I did her homework on the days she spent at court translating for her parents and she always made sure I had something warm to eat. We have gone through so much in that building. More than we should have had to honestly but we remained constant. We’re sisters in all of the ways it counts.”

“I’m glad that you two have each other. That y’all were never alone even when it felt like you were,” he said. 

“So am I,” I said, watching as he locks my phone and sets it aside. “How did you and your friends meet?”

At that he smiles as he shakes his head. “Aiden and I met in first grade. He asked me to be his lookout on a cookie caper. Rah we met in middle school during 7th grade gym class and once the three of us got together, we’ve been at the hip ever since.”

“Cookie caper is hilarious. I like Aiden, he seems like a good time and Rah seems like the opposite of both of you,” I said.

I had gotten the chance to speak to both of them via Facetime not too long ago. Aiden ended up stealing the phone from Xavier and locking himself in the bathroom. For twenty minutes we talked about why rap girls are dominating and the best place for wings in the city. It was Rah who jimmied the bathroom door open with a belt buckle and proceeded to put Aiden in a headlock all while apologizing for his friends foolishness as Xavier retook possession of the phone. I laughed so hard that my stomach ached afterwards.

“That’s a pretty accurate observation except Rah is like the balance of us both. He just talks way less,” he replied, playing with the fingers I had laid on my chest.

“When I was…doing the most our senior year they never gave up on me. They would call me out for being on bullshit and even tried to help me find other ways to get out from underneath my father’s thumb. I had been so adamant about having to be loud with my actions so I wasn’t listening for real. I was desperately trying to be heard.”

I watched as his face lost some of the playfulness that had been there only moments before. His expression grew more grave as thoughts from the past came flooding forward.

“Is that how…,” I trailed off, knowing he would fill in the blank.

“Yeah. I was hanging out with the wrong crowd. Guys I knew would help me on the mission to piss my father off. One night, they decided that we should steal cars and we did. I got caught because I crashed into a pole. It was a stick shift and I never drove one of those before. Due to my father’s connections those three months were the only ones I served  but I was on probation for five years. When I got out, they helped me enroll in school and find a job because at that point my parents were done with me. I was living with my grandparents which is why I feel like I owe them so much. They took a chance on me when no one else would,” he said.

It angers me that Xavier has often felt like there wasn’t anyone in his corner. Coming from a family of his size I assumed the opposite would be the case. I’m grateful he had his grandparents and friends to lean back on when his parents gave up. For some reason I wish that he didn’t have the uglier experiences of life. He is too much like light to hold onto such darkness.  

“I love them for that. Your friends too. Parents…they forget what it’s like to be young. To be scared. To be discounted. Or hell, sometimes they remember and they hold on too tight instead of pushing away,” I say.

“In either scenario they only see themselves and that is the problem but it’s their problem. Not mine, not yours,” he said, using the arm wrapped around my waist to hoist me on top of him fully. I caress his face in my hand, tracing over the slopes of his high cheekbones with the pads of my fingers, willing the tension to ease from them.

We both carry the weight of burdens that don’t belong to us. They merely have been passed on from generation to generation with the expectancy that there will always be someone to shoulder the load. We are tired from problems that aren’t our own. In our respective ways, we have been trying to unload the weight, and find ourselves in the freedom that is being able to move freely. 

“I agree,” I said, settling my legs around his waist. He reaches up to play with the ends of my braids. The cloudiness is clearing from his expression and I use the opportunity to pivot. “It’s crazy that it’s almost four in the morning but I could stay up and talk to you for hours.”

A smitten grin spreads across his lips as he says, “I know what you mean. I talk to scores of people every day but no conversation holds a candle to yours.”

“Xay,” I say softly.

“I’m for real. You’re the best part of my day. Even when we don’t have time to talk for real just knowing you’ll answer the phone whenever I call is enough to temper the worst of days and highlight the best of them,” he said, adoration in the forefront of his gaze.

 I don’t have to second guess any of his words. It’s more than evident that he means each one with the way my heart wants to escape my chest. His vulnerability inspires my own.

“You brought the sun back into my world Xay. The least I can do is answer the phone,” I said, fingers settling on the sides of his neck. His hands move to cover mine, fingers threading between. He brings our joined hands up to his lips and kisses the back of my hand repeatedly. 

“You are my world Mila.”

I almost tuck my chin as the blush takes over my face but I’m reminded of words from earlier when he squeezes my fingers. Worthy. This is another sign from the universe that anything I want is at my fingertips and I want Xavier more than I thought I had the capability to. Between him and Jazz, I am an unstoppable force. This in mind, I meet his eyes as a smile takes over my face which he returns with his own. We stare at each other until the space between us closes. Until his lips are on mine. Until I’m sinking on him. Until the sun rises over our shoulders.

[rumbelleshowdown]

Author: onelastedit

Prompts: Stroking hair to soothe. “Take me with you.” Baking.

Group: B

-

On the Other Side of the Door

Was it too much to ask for a simple, relaxing holiday? Thanksgiving wasn’t a tradition Belle participated in - being Australian it hadn’t ever appealed to her - so she took the opportunity to use her vacation days from her job at the Library to rent a room at a new boutique hotel just outside of Storybrooke. The Autumn weather had already succumbed to the Winter and she wanted to indulge in a long weekend with wine, books, and a crackling fireplace. 

Instead, she got a room with a broken fireplace, and a furnace stuck at a temperature that would make the Devil sweat. She’d only packed her warm clothes so she could either slowly get heat stroke wearing her flannel pajamas or walk around in only her knickers. The latter option, while it sounded sexy, was in reality disgusting when your room is trying to bake you like a pumpkin pie. The resulting smell was NOT of cinnamon and nutmeg. 

Grudgingly, she put on the hotel’s complimentary robe and decided there was nothing for it but to trudge down to the front desk. She’d been assured the heat would be fixed within the hour -  two hours ago. Gathering as much dignity as she could wearing nothing but a bathrobe with sweat actively dripping down her body, she made to open her door but the handle was…stuck. She jiggled it furiously but it was like the handle was actively working against her pushing against her grip on it. Belle released the handle and watched as it moved of its own accord rapidly rattling up and down. Her stomach dropped as she realized someone was trying to get into her room. Thoughts raced through her mind — she should back away and call the front desk, hide in her bathroom until someone comes for help. Did she still have pepper spray in her purse? She hadn’t ever used it. Does pepper spray expire? The lamp on her bedside table looks potentially lethal, but she has terrible coordination.  

As Belle’s mind began to meltdown from the stress and heat, a voice on the other side of the door caught her attention. Muffled words made their way to her ears, “damned room keys… absolute shite…” She knew that voice! It was the voice of the man who played the starring role in her daydreams. That voice was deep and a little rough, and it’s Scottish accent made her toes curl in her stilettos.  Belle watched for him every day, peering out the window from her perch at the Library’s circulation desk, hoping for just a glimpse of him as he opened his antique shop across the street. 

Mr. Gold. 

But wait, this was absurd. There was no way Mr. Gold just happened to be on the other side of her hotel room door, apparently trying to break in. It must be heat stroke mixed with insanity - she’d finally taken her pathetic crush too far. Then she heard the voice again, “never should’ve invested in this place. Where is the blasted bell boy?” 

Tip toeing to the door, Belle peaked into the viewer and gasped as she saw a the top portion of a man’s head - a man with shoulder length brown hair, a few streaks of grey running through it, and it looked like it was silky soft. It’s Mr. Gold!, her mind screamed. Suddenly she had way more problems than a malicious intruder. The man of her dreams was inches away from her, and he didn’t even know it. She pushed her hands through her hair, trying to tame the frizzy, sweaty curls gently massaging her scalp to calm herself down, and pulled the mass back into what she hoped looked like an attractive ‘I don’t care what I look like, but I still look great’ kind of way. When she saw a pause in Mr. Gold’s attempts to open the door she quickly turned the handle and flung the door open with much more strength than she realized. 

As the door banged back into the wall, Belle’s bright blue eyes stared into very startled brown ones. She hoped she didn’t look like a maniac. She could feel the huge smile on her face as she said, “Mr. Gold! What a surprise!” For several long seconds Gold didn’t respond, just stood there staring at her and then looking around himself like he was a little kid lost in a department store. 

“…..I…Miss French. I’m so sorry. I must have the wrong room.”

“Yes, I thought so. What a coincidence that we’re both in the same hotel for the holiday.”

“….Yes….I am a silent investor and sometimes come to check in on it.”

This wasn’t quite the romantic meet-cute Belle had been hoping for. He looked completely uncomfortable. She was sure he would run away if he could. She didn’t blame him. She looked terrible and it’s not as if he ever gave her the time of day when she wasn’t a sweaty mess. At that moment a bell boy came along with Mr. Gold’s bags and informed them - what they already knew - he had the wrong room. 

The boy turned to Belle, “Miss is the room’s heat still an issue?” In her assenting nod, he replied, “I’m so sorry. If you go to the front desk they can book you for another weekend. Unfortunately there aren’t any other rooms available.”

Upon seeing her look of disappointment, Gold said, “The heat isn’t working?”

“No,” said Belle, “that’s why I look like a horrid sweaty mess. It’s stuck at a thousand degrees.”

“You look beautiful as always” he blurted out. Her wide eyes met his equally wide eyes, “I’m so sorry Miss French that was inappropriate. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No. No you didn’t” she grinned like a fool at him.

“As an investor I wish there was a way I could make it up to you but it seems there aren’t any other solutions.”

Feeling very bold, Belle said, “You could take me with you.” Her sly smile hoped it undercut her forwardness.

“I beg your pardon?” He spluttered.

“You could share your room with me….if that’s not too much to ask.”

He cut in, “No. No it’s not.”

“Well then it seems you have provided a solution Mr. Gold.”

“Alexander. My name is Alexander.” His smile beamed back at her and when he offered her his hand she didn’t even care that her palms were sweaty.    

-

[forbiddenfrvt]

D E C A Y

de·cay [verb] : fall into disrepair; deteriorate.

re4r!leon kennedy x former umbrella assassin!reader, enemies-rivals x lovers?

warnings: sparring violence, usage of blades, | mentions of getting cut | blood | suggestive jokes | m x afab reader | explicit language | word count: 3259 words. ps: This is part one of this specific project/series. Decay will be uploaded into three to maybe four? parts as this goes on? NOT YET PROOFREAD author's notes: Basically a fuzzbrain moment, I was like- I feel like the workplace romance trope for leon is going on around, why not write one that jiggles my brain further, this is practically word vomit atp so sorry for errors. i imagined how conflicted leon would be to have a partner who used to be the top mercenary for umbrella corp n needing to trust her; esp after what transpired at raccoon city. poor bby will always be haunted by umbrella, one way or another. THERE will be smut at some point obvi heh. but id like to build up their relationship first before so nothing dirty for chapter one here.

Life has consistently made itself clear about not wanting to be fair; regardless if you're a saint, or a sinner. And funnily enough, life had placed you in the depths of hell, eager to see you crawl out of it like the devil aching to wear its' wings once more. Needless to say, you weren't God's favorite, not that you still thought there was one. Constantly being denied the privileges of believing. Especially now after the affairs with Raccoon City; affairs that never really ended.

Affairs that had just begun.

It had been six years since your arrival within the USSTRATCOM force, six whole years of rigorous training along half-assed assessments, and none of those days had passed by smoothly.

Six years of pure torture under the guise of justice.

You made your way inside the DSO training grounds, the click-clacking of your stilettoes echoed throughout the hall, announcing your arrival. It had been noted to you by others how 'impractical' your heels were during training and missions yet all you could ever say in response was a flat; "So?" proceeding to head onto fights victorious and fashionably. But in all honesty, you just preferred how you can use the tip of your heels like a knife.

Oceanic blue orbs observed your entrance, standing in the middle of the ring, just how he did the day you've first met, his rigid posture evident. Glaring at you was none other than your assigned partner—; Leon Scott Kennedy.

“You.” He jeers, as if your presence alone was an insult to him. And no matter how long it had been, no matter what you did to appease your colleague, Leon never bothered to, at the very least, be decent with you.

Of course you weren't no martyr, his habitual hatred for you eventually rubbed off on yourself— reciprocating his negative disposition. “Awe, I take it you don't miss me, Kennedy?” You spoke with a copy smile etched in your lips; eager to annoy him further than your presence alone did.

Tch. Leon clicks on his tongue, focusing his eyes over his bandaged hands, tightening it as you hopped over the ring— tiresome eyes never abandoned yours.

"Just so you know," He paused, taking a step forward. "I won't go easy on you."

Hah, how cocky. His words rang in your mind, a mixture of excitement and irritation conjoining. You were practically rivals within the field at this point, with everyone letting out a harsh breath whenever the two of you would bicker or spar, feeling the tension for themselves. Eyes squinting in annoyance upon hearing his remark, “You'd be forced not to, Kennedy.” You turn to the side, fixing your bandaged hands, making sure the fabric were tight enough not to fall apart mid-spar.

"Forced?" Leon asks with a grin, raising a brow. He cracks his neck, loosening muscles before taking a defensive stance with a relaxed demeanor. "I don't know how you'd manage that." This by far had been the longest you two conversed since you've met. Further proving just how estranged the both of you are despite being partners. “Oh, trust me Ken Doll.” You flash a sly smirk, a single strand of your hair framing the left side of your face. “I know my way around you.” You add with a wink. After all these years together, how could you not? Leon raised an eyebrow at your cockiness. “How so?” he asked, giving you an amused smile.

You shook your head, placing one foot behind her and the other to the front for support; already gauging his moves for the spar. He took a forward stance, one foot forward and one foot back, raising his fists in a ready position. He had a smile on his face, but a competitive gleam in his eyes. “Show me what you can do.”

Without a word of warning, you pushed yourself forward, kicking the foot you placed to your back upward— aiming towards Leon's head. Fist at the ready for his defense.

Leon ducked to the side almost instantly, leaning back to avoid the unexpected attack. His face showed a look of surprise at your speed, but he quickly regained his composure. “Not bad,” he said with an impressed look on his face. “I thought you would have taken it easy on the first shot.” He readied himself for your retaliation, getting ready to dodge.

Your voice was laced with amusement and mockery at the same time. “Aw, you know I love you too much to do that.” Dropping the same foot to the ground, you wasted no time to spin yourself around and throw another roundhouse kick at Leon starting with the other leg, one arm supporting your leap. While yes, they both already acknowledge the fact that they were rivals, and maybe even the others had to— you did hold respect to his prowess in that regard. It simply was his attitude towards you that pushed you away from actually befriending the guy. That and, you simply couldn't bring yourself to lower your pride. 'Just for Leon Kennedy? Nah, you wouldn't. Not in a million years. Right?'

He subconsciously allows her to be herself during fights. He excites her, more than she wants him to. More than he'll ever know.

Leon jumps to the side, narrowly avoiding the vicious attack yet again. His eyes were wide with surprise at the speed and power contained within your attack. “You’re certainly packing quite the punch,” he said, getting ready to respond with his own attack. “You must be more determined than I anticipated.”

You could only chuckle— “C'mon Kennedy, it's me.” enjoying this spar session. You caved to relax your stance, preparing to avoid his attacks. Your eyes intent on not leaving his body. "You know I'm capable of anything."

“We’ll see if you can keep up with my pace,” he says with a smirk as he begins to rush in. He swings a wild left punch to catch you off guard, and then sends a hard right kick towards your head. “Let’s see what you got, dollface!” he taunts. It seems Leon wasn’t holding back anymore, but that was a given with the two of them.

Your eyes slants in focus, ducking down to avoid the kick while simultaneously dodging his punch, your leg swiftly sliding down across his legs in an attempt to trip him down. Adamant to avoid his hits. You were indeed faster than Leon, but he obviously packs more force in his punches than you could. Duh, he's a muscle man.

You manage to avoid both of his strikes, moving much faster than he anticipated. Still, he catches himself, recovering from the attack with surprising skill. He seems even more impressed and cautious than before, but ever more determined to land a hit. “Very impressive,” he says, taking a second to catch his breath. “Maybe I underestimated you a lil’ bit.”

He sounds genuinely impressed this time. And you hadn’t expected him to actually compliment you, especially since you’ve been rivals for as long as you can remember. “You're just rusty now, Kennedy.” You grin— cartwheeling away from him, before crouching down preparing your body for his next blows. “Fun. But rusty for me.”

“Rusty or not, you sure are something else, [Y/L/N],” he says with a small, almost amused smile. He starts circling you, readying himself to continue the fight. It seems he’s determined to land one of his attacks. “What’s your next move, huh?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, I don’t have all day!”

Her legs swiftly launched towards him, landing behind him before kicking his knees to push him on the ground— giggling mockingly as she does so. “Awe?" a fake hurt, "You can't even spend an entire day playing with me now, Ken Doll?”

Leon stumbles, clearly surprised from your sneak attack. He recovers quickly, standing back up, but not before letting out a small grunt of pain. “Alright, now you’re asking for it,” he says, with a playful grin. He lunges forward in an attempt to land a punch but quickly backs up. “I hope you’re ready.” He seems more determined than ever, throwing his jabs and kicks with an increased level of power. It seems you’d really made him angry with your previous kick.

You eventually got hit with his punches on your cheek along with both of your forearms from blocking them, yet your smile never faltered, nor the glint in your eyes as you stared directly at his blue orbs. “Am I? Maybe I am demanding more from you.” You threw your arms sideways blocking his while simultaneously hitting his side with your elbow, using your agility to land blows back in retaliation for his harsh punches. Laughing as his brows furrow in agitation, “Don't stress about me, Handsome.”

“I’ll admit, you’re better than I expected,” Leon says as he lands several solid blows on your arms, his punches growing stronger and stronger as the fight continued.

Suddenly, he lunges forward, trying to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you into a tight head lock. He squeezes his arm in an attempt to knock you down. If he can pull off his attack, he’ll gain the upper hand in this fight. You had better come up with a plan, and fast.

With a quick turn, you did let him feel up your waist; but only before sliding down to escape his grasp, crouching and gliding in and back out between his legs to avoid his lock, coming up from behind. “Never did I think a day would come where I'm in between your lap, Kennedy.” You whispered teasingly on one side of his ear, before going over on the other, blowing cold air on his earlobes— “But here we are.”

His face reddens at your teasingly mocking words, but all you get from him is an irritated frown. He’s not going to let that get to him, no matter how much you tease him during this spar. Seizing the opportunity to, you hit his sides from the back to push him aside.

Leon jumps back, narrowly avoiding your blow to his ribs. He glares at you over his shoulder. “You’ll regret that, [Y/N],” he growls., spinning his heel around and points an accusing finger towards you. “You better watch yourself with that kind of talk, princess.”

“Hmm? What kinda talk?” You inquired, voice— vixen-like.

Leon scowls, annoyed at your words, but you certainly caught him off guard. "You know what I meant," he says through gritted teeth. “And don’t get any ideas.”

Obviously, his reactions piqued your interests further more, taking slow strides circling him as he did to you earlier. Your hips sway from left to right as if you couldn't be bothered to be on guard. “I wish you were half this funny all the time, Mr. Policeman.” You looked at him, a blank face with a seemingly disappointed tone, “Maybe I would've liked you better.”

Even so, a small smirk finds its way onto his face. “Oh yeah? Is that so?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His tone is a little bit teasing with a hint of arrogance. "Having you like me sounds disgusting, [Y/N]." He seems a bit more relaxed than before, but you can tell he’s still determined to win this sparring session. "I don't blame you though."

“What makes you think I even see you as a member of the opposite sex?” You snarked, "Much less a member of the same species..." cocking your head to the side, before ushering him to come at you. “If I had a knife I would've already had it sitting on your throat— Kennedy.” You add menacingly, yet— it was obvious in your tone that it was more so you simply expressing your blatant annoyance. You rarely could ever feel the urge to actually hurt such Leon, but man would it feel so good to.

“Oh, you think that’ll save you?” Leon asks, raising an eyebrow. He seems confident, but he’s hiding a flicker of uncertainty. He’s never fought against a knife before, and he’s not sure if he’d be able to avoid serious damage if you attacked him. But he can’t back down now, he’s come too far.

“Let’s see it, dollface,” he taunts. “Let’s see how you do against a real weapon.”

The officials probably wouldn't care as long as they didn't actively go and try to kill one another so you smiled in agreement. Clearly reminding yourself why you liked his spontaneity; he mirrored you, in ways you both liked and disliked.

“You're asking a fish to breathe underwater at this point Leon.” Your smug smile matches his, taunting him back with confidence. You swiftly grab one of your daggers stashed on the table, letting Leon pick his weapon of choice out, fairly showing what you picked off.

Leon looks surprised for a second, then takes out a combat knife from his pocket. He seems eager to finally bring a real weapon into the fight. “What do ya say, doll face?” he asks with a wink. “You ready to get serious?” He smiles and stands in a defensive stance, gripping his blade tightly. Even if it was just a training exercise, he didn’t seem to be taking any chances, as if he was actually fighting for his life. That’s just the type of person he is.

“I don't know if I'm ready for that sort of commitment with you yet, Kennedy.” You remarked, jokingly.

With each swish of the daggers around your fingers— you lowers your stance, making it easy for you to jab the weapon around.

You were a weapons expert like Carlos is, that's for sure. A friend whom she might never disclose around the space. “A criminal versus a cop.” She mumbles to herself, laughing inwardly.

“Try and catch me, Officer~.”

Your playful words only make him smirk again as he advances on you with a determined look in his eye. “I’d rather take you by force,” he says, his voice filled with confidence and authority. He doesn’t waste any time before lunging forward with his knife, swinging it in a wide arc to test your reflexes and ability to dodge. His eyes are cold and focused, as if he’d been fighting real killers his whole life. “Let’s see how you handle this, doll face,” he says, with a faint smile. “I can’t wait.”

The girl ducks down in opposite directions that Leon swung at, letting him be at the offensive this time around. You linked your arm around his before kicking him from the back, still not actively swinging your daggers. , You were used to this, of course, in every sparring session they had together; it became clear to you what Leon is good at, and where his blind spots were.

Hell, one would think this is how their usual dates would go; if they actually were a couple. But no, course not. “Best you could do? I'm falling sleepy here, Kenny.”

Leon stumbles back from your kick to his back, barely managing to keep his balance. He’s surprised to see how well you’re dodging his attacks, but he’s not about to back down yet. He growls as he charges forward, sending a wide slash towards the center of your body. This time he’s putting all of his strength behind his attack, taking no chances. “You won’t be sleepy for long, dollface,” he says with an amused grin. “I’m going all out this time.”

The former rookie cop manages to graze your stomach, a medium length gash forming at your skin, contrasting beautifully against your [Y/S/C] complexion. With so much as a hiss of pain, the girl sprang forth like a snake.

Hence her nickname at the battlefront.

In retaliation to his slice, you grab hold of him from the side, wrapping your legs around his hips before stabbing the tips of your daggers in his arm, creating two holes on his bicep.

Leon looks surprised by how quickly you react to his attack as he grunts in pain. In the blink of an eye, you plunge your daggers into his arm, leaving him bleeding.

“Damn! Fine, fine, ya got me,” he says, smiling in spite of his wounded arm. He grits his teeth, clearly in pain, but he does have to admire your skills. You really are impressive to be able to take him down so quickly.

“Alright yeah, I’d say you won,” he admits with a chuckle. “Really? When we're both injured in the same capacity?”

You could only roll your eyes in disbelief, lifting your shirt up to showcase the long wound Leon carved onto you. “Did you want to be a surgeon or something?” Your eyes darting to your stomach and back at his arm. “Be glad I cleaned my knives earlier, I almost panicked that I left paralyzers on the blades.” “You got me there,” he admits with a laugh. “Your skills are certainly something else.”

With so, your arms clearly bruised, you turned around. “Can you untie my hair for me? It's pulling too roughly now— you messed it up after all.” Your voice sounding a lot more meek now than earlier, clearly a different person outside of combat.

Leon raises an eyebrow at your request, but he nods nonetheless. He seems surprised to see you ask something like that of him. It’s a gentle gesture, but it clearly catches him off guard. “Sure, no problem.” He reaches around and unties your hair, doing his best to be gentle.

Once your hair is untied, he steps back. “Anything else you have in mind, dollface?” he asks with a teasing wink. To which you could only stare at him blankly, throwing a cloth and gauze pad at his face, harshly, before walking away to leave. Silently urging him to get his wound patched up already.

“Alright, alright!” Leon calls after you, laughing slightly as he holds the cloth up to his arm. He looks annoyed, but deep down he’s happy that you care. He takes a quick look at his wounded arm in the mirror, then heads toward the medical bay to get himself patched up.

Despite the competition and rivalry, there is a mutual respect between the two of you. And deep down, he knows he can’t help but care about you, even if he doesn’t admit it out loud. Nor does he want to admit it to himself.

You couldn't help but glare at the staff surrounding the area who clearly thought something was between you two. You long knew how much you used to idolize Leon, but now that everything was said and done, it dawned on you that you both simply respect one another, but didn't think too fondly of the other.

It was hard for you to explain it, even to yourself, but all you know is that they're colleagues who dislike both, yet still cared. Maybe just professionally. A secret loyalty, if you may. “Bye, Kennedy.” You waved off to leave the training grounds— walking a bit slowly as you approached the door. Leaving it to close on its own as you left. Leon could only roll his shoulders once you disappeared eyeing her trail in conflicted interest, caressing the skin of his arm that met yours as if to recall the sensation. Shutting his eyes with his head hung back as a guttural groan escapes his lips, displeased by his thoughts that began to shroud with images of you.

"Till next time, Dollface."

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Thursday, January 18

Faith: Oh, man! Guys should break up with you more often. Buffy: Gee, thank you. Faith: No, I mean it. You really got some quality rage going. Really gives you an edge. Buffy: Edge Girl. Just what I always wanted to be.

~~Homecoming~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Blue Fire (Angelus, E) by CoffeeHunt

Stiletto (Spike/Drusilla, E) by CoffeeHunt

Static (Buffy/Maggie Walsh, M) by MadeInGold

The Lakeside Campground (Buffy/Angel, T) by Cornerofmadness

Issues (Xander/Anya, G) by AJ Fields

Midnight Snack (Willow/Oz, E) by CoffeeHunt

Willow Rosenberg - The real story (A Quibbler World Exclusive) (Crossover with Harry Potter, G) by FPBarbieri

The Empress (Spike/Drusilla, E) by MadeInGold

Preliminary Findings (Spike/Maggie Walsh, E) by CoffeeHunt

Who is Goldilocks? (Buffy/Spike, T) by Myrabeth

[Chaptered Fiction]

Amara Time, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Joan963z

A Vampire and a Slayer Walk Into a Park, Chapter 11 (Buffy/Spike, AO) by holetoledo

What If Love Was Enough?, Chapter 14 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Spikelover4ever

Pack My Box with Five Dozen Liquor Jugs, Chapter 18 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by honeygirl51885

A Waxy Gent Chuckled Over My Fab Jazzy Quips, Chapter 18 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by violettathepiratequeen

Love Ridden, Chapter 7 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by scratchmeout

Buffy 2.0, Chapter 17 (Buffy/Willow, FR18) by BlueZeroZeroOne

The Prodigal Boyfriend, Chapter 6 (Buffy/Spike, 18+) by myrabeth

A Breath is But a Soundless Whisper, Chapter 15 (Buffy/Spike, 18+) by Blackoberst

It's Easy Time, Until It's Not, Chapter 11 (Buffy/Spike, G) by hulettwyo

Love Lives Here, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Passion4Spike

A Darkened Night of the Soul, Chapter 25 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by In Mortal

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:these were supposed to be sketches by genericaces

Artwork:she deserves more things to smile about by madeleinelovescolours

Comic:Buffy teaching morals by strawberri-draws

Gifset: BUFFY SUMMERS AND RUPERT GILES IN GO FISH by detectivedawnsummers

Gifset:every single cordelia chase look #29 by thepunkmuppet

Gifset:Just Wesley keeping tabs on Sunnydale by mycatismyfriend

Manip: S5E7: Fool for Love | S7E5: Selfless by spuffygifs

[Reviews & Recaps]

Season 5 As An Unwanted, Teenage Pregnancy Metaphor. by Electrical_Big_906

Just finished Buffy for the first time and I wanted to share some of my thoughts. by RubenBoersema

Podcast: Sus Cocoa - Angel S05E14 - Smile Time by Pop Culture Role Call

Publication: Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Who Did It Better? The Movie, Or the Show? via Remind Magazine

[Community Announcements]

Emma Caulfield at For The Love Of Fantasy by jamiemarsters

[Fandom Discussions]

Hope in the Buffyverse by multiple authors

Were Justine/Holtz, Faith/The Mayor and Connor/Holtz similar? by multiple authors

What music would Willow listen ? by multiple authors

Which Buffyverse monsters would have killed Buffy during her cruciamentum? by multiple authors

The best thing a character did: Day Three [Willow] by multiple authors

souls returned by multiple authors

Do you think Angelus is responsible for what Spike later became? by multiple authors

THEORY: Willow was ALWAYS evil. [Humor] by multiple authors

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Publication: Sarah Michelle Gellar's BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER Journey: A Tale of Sacrifice and Triumph via geektyrant

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