#my music taste is uninteresting and all over the place

[cerealbishh]

URL and Song Meme

Thank you @hideoussundemon for tagging me! (idk how old this is... i'm so sorry)

Rules: Make a new post and spell out your URL with song titles, then tag as many people as there are letters in your URL

C: Center Of Attention - Jackson Waters E: Everything - Lifehouse R: Recession - Vienna Teng E: Everywhere - Michelle Branch A: Angel of the Morning - Juice Newton L: Let It All Go - Birdy & Rhodes B: Blue Shutters - OBC Notebook Cast I: I Try - The Staves S: She(For Liz) - Parachute H: Harana - Parokya ni Edgar H: Human - Cody Johnson

Passing it on to anyone who wants to do this, I guess?? Idk, I only have two other friends on here, really... so @ashleyslorens(@hunterschafer) and @rougeloren?

[cybersunnie]

18+ / MDNI situationship; angry sex; college!art; f!reader; possibly ooc; art calls reader a slut (wc 975) with ART DONALDSON

Your relationship with Art Donaldson was complicated.

You two teetered between the line of friends and something more. A relationship that consisted of words left unspoken and constant what-ifs. (A dilemma he could never escape).

But the longing to become something more often felt one-sided. Because, for Art, it was always Tashi, tennis, Patrick, and then you. You were his fallback. Someone he went to when he needed a distraction. You just refused to believe you were so far down his list of priorities because how could you be with the way he kissed and touched you? Whispered your name in the dead of night like it was holy? Knew the ins and outs of you like a lover would? 

It was confusing—exhausting, even, having him all over you one day, then uninterested the next. Hot and cold. Cat and mouse. A never-ending cycle you grew comfortable with.

You figured that was how you found yourself bent over a bathroom counter on Saturday night, forced to you look at yourself in the mirror as Art fucked you from behind.

Art didn't want to go to the stupid frat party in the first place. He was only there because he let his tennis friends pressure him into going. And, as he expected, it was like every other party he attended at Stanford. Mundane. A pretty girl here and a pretty girl there to pay a compliment to. But most of the time, he kept to himself, hugging the walls to avoid being swept up into the rowdy crowd.

That was until he saw you.

You were as gorgeous as ever. All dolled up and wearing a mini skirt that left little to the imagination. Smiling and swaying your hips to the music like you didn't have a care in the world. Except you were dancing with another man. Your back flushed with his chest, his arm wrapped around your waist as his other hand drifted down to your thigh, holding you close. Too close. And, like you had been aware of his presence this entire time, your eyes locked with Art's, and he witnessed your sweet smile form into a smirk. 

Blood pumped through his veins, his stomach churned, and an unbearing heat encompassed him. 

He knew he had no right to be angry. You weren't his. Not officially, anyway. But that didn't stop him from seeing red. That didn't stop the green-eyed monster from consuming every rational thought in his mind.

And now, Art had you all to himself in a bathroom upstairs. 

The loud chattering and booming music from below did wonders to drown out your whimpers and cries. Art had your panties around your ankles and skirt flipped up over your ass, one hand on your hip and the other on your jaw as he fucked his cock into your tight cunt. 

"Is this what you wanted?" he rasped, his voice wrecked, almost unrecognizable. "Dancing with that guy, knowing it'd make me jealous—is this what you fucking wanted?"

While you intended to make him jealous, this wasn't what you expected him to do.

You just wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, to let him know how it felt to be on the back burner. Art usually wasn't quick to anger. Unlike Patrick, he would try to refrain from giving in to his impulses. But you must've caught him on a bad day. You weren't complaining, though.

When you didn't respond, his grip tightened along your jaw, your cheeks smushed between his fingers. "Tell me."

You stared at his reflection in the mirror, the mess of blond curls and flushed cheeks, an all too familiar sight for you. "Fuck you."

The anger in his eyes disappeared for a split second. He almost looked hurt. "Why're you acting like this, huh?" Art asked softly, words tumbling from his mouth with urgency. He pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear. You shuddered. "Acting like you're not my girl."

"Because I'm not."

"You are."

You cursed under your breath, trying and failing to keep your composure. "We're not—shit, together, remember?" 

Art scoffed, the irritation he felt earlier flooding back. "So you just let anyone fuck you like you're some slut?" He let go of your jaw to wrap his hand around your throat, relishing the subtle whimper that slipped past your lips. You shook your head. "Yeah, didn't think so. You only let me fuck this pretty pussy when I want, wherever I want, right?"

You braced yourself against the mirror, the glass cool on your forearms, your legs shaking as you struggled to keep yourself up. He hissed, "Say it."

Dumbly, you asked, "What?"

"Say that you're my girl."

Lost in the pleasure, you nodded without a second thought. In this moment, it was the truth. "I'm your girl."

"That's right. All mine." You heard the smile in his voice. "Fuck, wanna cum in your mouth—y'gonna let me, hm? Gonna let me fuck your throat?"

You realized a long time ago that you would let him do anything.

And then you found yourself on your knees, staring up at him with watery eyes like he was some sort of god, trying not to gag as he came down your throat. Soon after, Art helped you off the ground, your legs quivering, the taste of him fresh on your tongue. You heard his whispered praises from below while he pulled up your panties and felt the soft kisses he left on your thighs.

Once he stood up, fixing your skirt, you couldn't help but ask, "Do you actually like me?"

He stilled, and you didn't miss how he clenched his jaw. Instead of answering with words, Art leaned in and kissed you. That told you all you needed to know.

Of course, Art liked you. He just didn't like you enough.

author's note: i hate this but its been sitting in my drafts for too long 😭 and by too long, i mean since june (oops!)

LAST EDITED — 09.15.2024

[solarwynd]

Jimin really is the new BTS. Actually no, he's the old BTS. Jungkook is new BTS, in the sense that he's a perfect representation of everything that went wrong with BTS starting with Dynamite (and he's actually worse). But Jimin is that old BTS that made people fans in the first place. Cause no one became a fan because of the english songs. Yes, people discovered the group through those songs since they were playing everywhere, but all that did was introduce people to BTS and make them check what else they had to offer. And what they had to offer was what made people fans. If the rest of BTS's music was the same as the english trilogy people wouldn't have stuck around.

Armys have this thing where they pretend like someone liking BTS but not liking most of the members as soloists is a crazy, unfathomable thing. But as someone who likes BTS as a group and, despite being continously uninterested, continues to give the members at least a few listens whenever they released something, I can tell you that what BTS offers with their music and performances is not being offered by any other member expect Jimin. There's definitely pieces of the group in all their individual carrers, but it's either not enough or it's not the good pieces (like with Jungkook).

Cause what do people love about BTS? It's their songs, those songs that were a good balance of being people's taste (so more pop leaning or if a different genre than at least something exciting) while still being of good quality and having enough depth for fans that like thinking about and discussing the meaning of songs. It's also their performances of those songs (which, of course, first requires having those good songs), is having full intricate choreographies and a lot of energy on stage.

When you think of all of that – easy to like but not basic and shallow songs with impressive performances – then what members of the group are offering that? Go down the list, one through seven, and tell me if any other member expect for Jimin has all that? I'm not asking if any other members has something good to offer, I'm asking if they have the specific things that made fans became fans in the first place. Let's see:

Rapline: Armys aren't rap fans. Rap enjoyers? Maybe. But rap fans? No. They like rap enough to have a few verses of it every song, but not enough for it to be the whole songs, the whole album. And the attempts rapline have made with genres other than rap have somehow been even less armys's taste. Their performances are also lacking. It's fine if you wanna see someone just rap, but armys want dancing too. J-hope really could've had something here but for some reason he refuses to actually dance to his solo songs.

Jin: Now, to be fair, we haven't really seen what he has to offer as a soloist, so he could surprise me. But is he likely to? Probably not. He'll probably have an album made up of mostly ballads and no dancing.

Taehyung: His music is boring. I'm sorry, but even his fans lowkey don't care about it. Also, they can scream all they want about him being a danceline member but I have yet to see him actually make use of that position. Taehyung's appeal is his looks and that's all.

Jungkook: Mister Dynamite himself.

Continuing with the rest of my accidently sent incomplete ask. I think I was talking about Jungkook? He's doing what BTS was doing with the english songs. That stuff is definitely popular I'll admit, but does it make for a good foundation for a whole carrer? Cause BTS could get aware with it since they already had that foundation, but Jungkook doesn't. You can't have your entire discography be Dynamites, Butters and, god forbid, PTD's. Fans are gonna get sick of it eventually. I mean armys already did after PTD, three songs in and they were ready for it to be over and for BTS to go back to how they used to be before 2020. Jungkook is currently getting away with it because it's just one solo album that gives armys the records they like while they wait for BTS (what they're actually fans of) to come back. But if he wants an actual solo carrer, he's gonna have to step up eventually. So as you can see. None of them are really offering what fans want. So why should people who became fans of BTS for those specific reasons be forced to be fans of the other members as soloists when they're not giving them what they want. I'm not a fan of people out of obligation, I'm a fan because I genuinely enjoy things. And Jimin is the only one whose solo work I genuinely enjoy. Sorry not sorry 🤷

.🎯

[syrena-del-mar]

4, 7, 17, 26, 32, 33, 45, 54, 69 🩷 (You don't have to answer all of these. I'm just a nosy girlie 🙈)

Hiya Soph! No worries, I'm also a nosy girlie so I totally get it 😂 Also a warning, I definitely got a lil too passionate on question 54. I just love the holidays.

4. Favorite Chore

I really love folding as long as I'm on top of it and I haven't had a weeks worth of wash piled up. Something about freshly dried/warm clothes makes it really enjoyable.

7. Any groceries that you've been getting into lately?

So much ginger and turmeric. I bit the bullet and finally just got myself a new full-scale blender/juicer to get rid of my old nutribullet, so now I'm able to make smoothies with ginger without it leaving unblended pieces.

17. What's a movie that you saw recently that you really liked?

A Million Miles Away. I have always liked to support Mexican-American work, and so many scenes here felt like they had been pulled from my own life. Also, teachers always get a lot of flack in the media for being uninspired and uninterested in their students, but I loved that they showed how so much of his success could be tracked to teachers who cared for and inspired him.

26. Would you rather sit on the porch drinking sweet tea or sit by the lake drinking beers?

How about sweet tea by the lake? Jk. But really, I would definitely prefer to sit on the porch drinking sweet tea. I have a relatively low-grade alcohol allergy that causes some beers to break me out in hives that don't go away for days. The itching is insane and I never want to go through it again lol

32. How do you take your morning coffee/tea?

I have a concoction I've been making every morning since I found it last December. 10 oz. of coffee 2 oz. of fat-free milk. 1 pump honey 1 pump sugar-free pistachio syrup Some cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove to your liking. Tastes like the winter holidays in a cup, really delicious and I still haven't gotten tired of it. I'm definitely not a black coffee and one sugar-type of girl LOL

33. What's something you collect?

Pens. I have an insane amount of pens, it's so hard to find a good one that doesn't bleed, skip, or smudge. So I collect like crazy. Also, before the boycott, Starbucks cups.

45. What's something you wish you had more time for?

Travelling. During the pandemic, I was traveling everywhere and anywhere. I would take day trips to the central coast of California or even to neighboring states. When I wasn't working and I would take some time off, I was going to several national parks here in the U.S. Sometimes drive 15-16 hours to get to them.

Now that I've finished my doctorate and I'm in my field of choice... I'm working and studying for my licensing exams. I usually don't leave the office after sunset.

54. Do you decorate your house for holidays? Which ones?

I decorate for Dia de los Muertos/Halloween, but, I'm a crazy Christmas decorator. I go all out inside my apartment. There's not an area where it doesn't look like Santa hasn't thrown up all over. November 1st, everything comes out of storage, though honestly, if I had a particularly rough year, it's sometimes already out by mid-October.

Now, outside decorations? We have a family tradition where my sisters and I go to my parent's place after work every day for close to three weeks, starting mid-November, and we decorate the hell out of the family home. Last year, we put up close to 40k lights with music. We still haven't invested or figured out if we will ever do the expensive light controller box that syncs with lights, but we do build a lot of our decorations. This year we're going to be adding close to another 15k of lights between everything that all 6 of us bought at the sales after Christmas.

Funnily, if it were up to my dad, he would have stopped putting Christmas lights since 10 years ago when we all left. Unfortunately for him, my sisters and I haven't let him. Now he has a grandchild, so the decorating won't stop for some time.

69. What are you looking forward to next week?

I'm heading out to the Grand Canyon next Thursday for the first time in five years. I only have two days off, so it'll be a quick trip, but it's so nice to roadtrip again.

Ask meme for people in their 30s

[goldenboywrites]

welcome to my zoo

“Our friend is back in town,” Darian says, his fingers drumming against the wood's edge. “He needs to be dealt it accordingly.” Bernie Anderson. Dodger doesn’t need him to speak his name, his perfect recall provides it. Bernie Anderson is low on their payroll, and his disappearance won’t matter much to anyone other than a lesson to others: to not take what is not willingly given. Darian’s vampiric empire was built on the blood, sweat, and tears of his inner circle. Bernie has dipped into the pot far too many times for him to turn a blind eye to it. 

He must really want to teach Bernie a lesson if he’s sending Dodger into the fray. 

Dodger twists from his perch on the corner of Darian’s desk, his gaze meeting his sire’s. “Any requests for how it’s done?”

Darian’s smile twists into something wicked and awful.  “Draw it out as long as possible. Make sure the people who believe they are loyal to him witness his fall from grace.” 

The younger vampire hops off of the desk and bows dramatically in front of his sire, low enough that his smirk is hidden. “As you wish, master.” When he straightens himself, he sees Darian’s lips pull into a thin line, brows furrow with displeasure but these are buttons Dodger has pressed for years and there is no real threat behind them. He is, after all, Darian’s most valuable and lethal asset. His service to Darian is forever. The two are bonded so tightly that it’s hard to remember a time when Dodger wasn’t owned body and soul entirely. 

“Go,” His sire barks, waving him off. “I’ve heard enough of your mouth.” 

____________

The Neon is one of the many establishments that Darian funnels money in and out of. There are, of course, other avenues of revenue like businesses and restaurants but the nightclub is Dodger’s favorite place to work out of. It’s sinful, it’s dark, it’s a place where humans and vampires alike come to taste the forbidden fruit. The humans, as terrified as they are about vampires owning their town, cannot help but be pulled into the allure of the club. It’s human nature, after all, to test one’s limits, to seek a thrill, and to live on the dangerous edge. 

He bypasses the line at the door and slips into the club. The pounding music settles something in his bones. The flashing lights show bodies upon bodies of humans and vampires alike sliding and twisting against each other. Dodger slips like a snake through the crowd, eyes scanning each face for his target. Bernie is stupid enough to steal from Darian and still show up to his club to indulge but so far the man cannot be found. That’s fine. The longer he hides the worse it’ll be for him. 

Dodger settles himself up on the balcony so he can overlook the entire dancefloor. Within seconds a server hands him a tiny vial. “Your usual, sir,” She says but Dodger waves her away uninterested. She stumbles back, taken back by his refusal of the sedative, but Dodger isn’t here for fun. He is here for work. He needs every ability of his working correctly and while not taking it will hinder him, taking it would be worse for him. He can deal with feeling unbalanced if it means killing Bernie Anderson with a clear mind. 

The thing about vampires is that they each have a special ability they receive when they mature. They say that your ability manifests from your human life. Someone who spent their whole life being bullied may present some type of strength ability that surpasses regular vampire strength. Dodger’s is a copycat. The only one of his kind so far. It’s an ability Darian couldn’t pass up taking control of and easily settled Dodger into his number two position. He can simply brush past a vampire and then harness their ability forever. In a place like this, with so many vampires, it can be debilitating hence the sedative that blocks out his ability so he can enjoy himself in a club full of vampires. 

“Sir?” The server returns to his side and sets a glass down in front of him. “That man over there sent you a drink,” She explains and points at the bar. Dodger turns his gaze and sees the most delectable sight. A human, because even from across the room he hears his heart pounding in time with the music. To keep up appearances, he squints as if his vision isn’t scarily perfect, and sees the man tip his glass in acknowledgment. He has a cutting jaw, soft stubble, and dark hair that Dodger immediately wants to tug on. He’s new too. Fresh. Dodger tips his glass at him before bringing it to his lips and before taking a sip, sniffs it for any friendly additives. Nothing is detected so he drinks while one of his many abilities pulls information from the man’s head with ease. Flynn (hot name), human (already knew that), new in town (figured as much), wants to start his night asking Dodger to dance (can’t blame him for that), and then end the night pressed into Dodger’s mattress (tempting, very tempting). 

“His drinks are on me tonight,” Dodger tells the server which means his drinks are on the house because Dodger doesn’t get paid and certainly doesn’t pay for shit. He polishes off the drink the man had sent him and is thinking about leaving his post to test how good this Flynn guy would feel pressed against his body but an alarm goes off in his head and his gaze on the human is severed. Instead, Dodger, now on high alert, scans the crowd and sees his target shoving his way through the crowd on the dancefloor towards the VIP rooms. That’s not where he wants Bernie. He steps away from the railing and into the darkness surrounding the balcony. “Marley, my love,” He calls out, twisting his body to face the server. “Will you send…” He thinks, pondering who is currently on staff that looks most like him, “Travis,” Yes, that’ll work. He’s new since Bernie skipped town. “Towards the VIP rooms but have him cut left and out the back alley and then back in through the front door?” 

Marley speaks softly and quickly into her headset and nods in confirmation when the deed is done. 

Showtime. 

____________

“You saw him come out here, right?” Dodger hears Bernie grumble to his men as he searches low and high throughout the alley for their treat, which only infuriates the vampire waiting for them. Staff are not food. They’re protected but this cocky fuck thinks the rules do not apply to him anymore. Dodger slips from the shadows and hops to sit upon a dumpster. He watches intently as they merge deeper and deeper into the alleyway, waiting for his moment. “Come out, come out wherever you are. I promise not to bite you too hard.” Bernie calls out. His men laugh. Dodger rolls his eyes.

“But grandmother, what big teeth you have!” Dodger says as Bernie steps in front of him. The vampire stumbles back, unable to hide the shock in his expression as he takes note of who is in front of him. 

“You…” Bernie reaches for words that never come. Dodger understands it must be terrifying to know that Darian specifically sent him. “I don’t want any trouble. We’re just having a good time…” 

“Hmm, “ Dodger purses his lips and kicks his feet, heels hitting the dumpster to fill the alleyway with noise and to, frankly, just be annoying. “No trouble? If you didn’t want trouble why are your books off, Bernie?  Why are you feeding off of protected staff, Bernie? Seems to me, Bernie, that trouble is exactly what you wanted. You should have stayed gone but you just can’t help yourself. You had to come back and dip your greedy hands back into the pot and hones-” Dodger catches the whizzing noise too late. He feels the puncture wound too late. He reaches up to his neck and pulls the dart out of his skin, crushing it in half in his hand. “You bitch.” 

The dart gun is lowered and within seconds, Dodger can feel his abilities closing off on him. One by one. Every second that passes he feels the power draining from his body. “You think I would steal from your bastard of an owner without doing my homework first? I figured he would send you, his mouthy, overpowered prince. Let’s see how well you fair in an even fight. I bet you won’t do that well. Maybe I’ll rip that sharp tongue out of your fucking mouth and send it to him when I’m done with you.” 

He’s right. Dodger knows that. His abilities are what make him invincible. Without them, he doesn’t have the upper hand, not against 4 vampires.

Bernie moves quickly, grabbing at Dodger’s legs and pulling him off of the dumpster. He slams into the ground, winded and disoriented. “You sack of shit,” Dodger growls, kicking his leg out and slamming it into Bernie’s knee. The vampire stumbles back but his two lackeys are already grabbing at Dodger’s wrists and holding him in place. He reaches out for anything that can help him. He looks down at his enclosed wrist and demands a spark of electricity. There’s a spark enough that the man holding him down swears under his breath but it fizzles out far too quickly. Bernie hovers over him and reaches for his neck. Dodger hisses and snaps his teeth, catching the soft flesh between the man’s thumb and pointer finger. He bites down with all of his might, ripping the skin from his bones. 

Bernie reels back with a scream, his blood staining Dodger’s shirt. He hears the quickened footsteps but can’t see who it is until a body is flying through the air and latches onto Bernie’s back. Dodger watches as the stake pierces directly into Bernie’s heart with practiced ease. “Holy fuck,” Dodger and the men holding him down say at the same time. Bernie throws his assailant off of him and stumbles back, looking wildly at the wood protruding from his body before his skin pales and he falls directly on top of Dodger. 

“Leave now.” Dodger doesn’t recognize the voice but he knows that heartbeat. The man at the bar. He can hear the pain laced within the man’s words. He’s hurt. “And tell whoever you need to that there is a slayer in town.” 

The vampires holding Dodger down scramble to let him go and then they’re out of the alley without a look back. The man, the slayer, Flynn, finally emerges from the side of the dumpster and offers a hand out to help Dodger up. “They didn’t get you, did they?” His fingertips graze Dodger’s jaw, turning his head right and then left to look for a bite. There is a bite but it’s closer to his shoulder than directly on his neck and thankfully, covered by his shirt. “I saw them follow you out.” His thumb brushes the tiny puncture mark from the dark, his eyes narrowing into dark slits. “They drugged you?” 

“Yeah,” Dodger breathes out, feeling anything but steady. A slayer. They hadn’t had a slayer in this town for years. “As soon as I came out of the door.” His words are starting to slur. Whatever they shot him with must be potent or maybe it’s the fact that a slayer fucking saved him and thinks he’s human when Dodger is actually the worst vampire he’s likely to ever face. Flynn wraps an arm around his waist to hold him upright. Fuck, he smells so good. Dodger leans into his warmth, his scent. He fights the instinct for his fangs to drop and take. 

“You can’t be alone while your system rides this out. I have to,” He pauses and reaches behind his head with his free hand and when they see his hand again, his palm is covered in blood. Head wound and blood. It fills the air and Dodger salivates. “Shit, I have to take care of this. Come back to mine?”

No. His mind screams because he has to report back to Darian. He has to make curfew otherwiseDarian will set the town on fire looking for him. But he’s dizzy scenting the blood in the air and the drugs in his system, and the fear of almost failing that he hears himself say, “Yeah, yeah, sure.”

[dilesxpressions]

Welton Czhang

1. Name, Year, Major, and Hometown

My name is Welton Czhang, I’m an Animal Science major, and my hometown is San Gabriel!

2. What’s your roman empire?

My roman empire is thinking about cats and how complete my life would be if I had pets, how I can constantly adapt and improve my boxing stances and punches, and finally how frequently I can plan hangouts with people around my schedule while also leaving to study. 

3. What is the best compliment you have ever received?

The best compliments I have ever received are from my friends stating how I do the most for other people, and give away so much love.

4. If your life was a movie what genre would it be (comedy, horror, drama, etc.) and what actor would play you?

If life was a movie the genre for mine would be a dramedy! David Tennant would play me and absolutely crush my role.

5. What is something on your college bucket list?

Something on my college bucket list is to bike all around Davis from night until morning with myself, a friend, or a group of friends, and to not check our phones for the entire duration of that time. Only until morning would we check where we’ve been, and track the amount of miles we’ve biked, and then bike back home! 

6. What’s your guilty pleasure? (song, movie, food etc.)

My guilty pleasure is spending a LOT of screen time on Instagram sending silly reels or memes to my friends. 

7. What are your bad habits?

I do not make my bed every morning, I sometimes do not wake up on my first, second, third, fourth, or fifth alarm because I am a heavy sleeper, and I enjoy my long showers. (~40 mins) 

8. What are your favorite song lyrics?

One of my favorite song lyrics is from Last Kiss, “I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets, How you’d kiss me when I was in the middle of saying something, There’s not a day I don’t miss those rude interruptions. And I’ll go, sit on the floor wearing your clothes, all that I know is I don’t know, how to be something you miss. “ I love how Taylor can tell stories in a song, maybe it’s romantic, maybe it’s bittersweet, but the way the lyrics rhyme and be catchy as well as paint a picture in your head is why I love Last Kiss, as well the rest of her music!

9. Defend your unpopular opinion/ hot take

In n Out is mid, the bread tastes like sandpaper, McDonald’s is better in literally everything, Cane’s is also mid, it tastes so plain, if it wasn’t for Cane’s sauce, they would be nothing. KFC is the best fast-food place for chicken because I grew up with it, and the oil, skin, and chicken they make has the best 1:1:1 ratio. Drake only knows how to make catchy, popular songs but is not a good artist. I like some of his songs but he is not good. 

10. Describe a time where you had to step up and be a leader?

One high challenge situation that really put me in a leadership position was the time that I was placed into a group project where we had to create a song about DNA, and I was a freshman who had just recently transferred into high school. In my group were sophomores and juniors who were uninterested in cooperating with me in completing the project, rather, they much preferred each other’s company. They spent most of their time joking and chatting with each other, and initially it was so hard to get anything serious and project-related done. They also ignored me or glossed over what I, a freshman, had to say. With a deadline a couple weeks away, I spent a good chunk of my time first setting aside my own differences from the group so that I could bond with each one of them personally before bringing them all together so we could achieve the task that loomed ahead of us. If they wanted to have fun, we had fun, we just made the project fun in our way! It wasn’t easy, the communication aspect and team-bonding part was already not a part of the assignment, taking up so much time for effective planning. Regardless, our final product was something that we all collectively put our heads together for, and we ended up really happy with the outcome. When it came our turn to present our song, my teacher loved it, and the class cheered us on afterwards with a standing ovation.

[zoeykallus]

Hunter – Dirty Little Thief 4 - Provocative

Hunter x female reader She/Her (Enemies To Lovers)

Warning: Suggestive/Tension/A bit of hurt/ A bit of angst/Jealousy/Cocky Crosshair/ Cocky reader/ Insecure Hunter

______

After helping Hunter get rid of a pushy admirer, the mood turns, when Crosshair suddenly hits on you.

______

What Happened Before:

Dirty Little Thief

Part 2 -Fairplay

Part 3- What We Do Not Admit

Part 4 - Provocative

The music was loud in the bar and yet, Hunter thought he heard your heartbeat quicken as he put an arm around you. He wasn't sure though, there were a lot of smells and sounds in the bar that occupied his senses.

You sat on his lap for quite a while until Crosshair told you the coast was clear and you almost hastily slid off Hunter's lap and sat down between them.

Hunter instantly missed the warmth of your body against his, your closeness, felt the loss abundantly clear, but he kept silent and didn't let on. He pretended to probe the room, but out of the corner of his eye he watched you and saw Crosshair engage you in conversation.

"Didn't you want to go out and have fun today?" the Sniper asked with a smirk.

You shrugged your shoulders and sighed, "Originally I did, but the clientele in the bar today doesn't suit my tastes"

Crosshair raised a brow in amusement and asked, "Are you sure?"

With an amused smile, you turned your head to him and looked at him questioningly.

"Did you see something that I missed?"

Crosshair chuckled, "What about me or Hunter, is neither of us to your liking?"

For a moment you paused, at first not quite knowing how to respond. Of course you were into Hunter, Crosshair wasn't uninteresting either, even if the sergeant interested you more.

On impulse, you tried something.

"Are you saying you'd be interested in having some fun with me?" you asked insinuatingly, and you could feel Hunter stiffening and tensing next to you, but he made no sound. At first you couldn't quite place his reaction.

Crosshair's gaze flitted only briefly to Hunter, a cheeky, amused glint in his eye. When he looked at you again he said, "Sure, why not, I'm sure I could give you a lot of fun."

You knew the Sniper had a way with the ladies, he was a ladies man and usually the females just ran after him. If you would go to a room with him tonight, he would surely be able to give you pleasure. The thought had a certain appeal, but to your discomfort, you yearned more for the sergeant, but that didn't mean you couldn't flirt, after all, Hunter had shown no such interest in you to date.

You laughed softly, "I bet you could".

A little provocatively and suggestively, Crosshair reached out to place his arm behind you on the back of the bench seat to make some contact. His thumb noticeably grazed your hair and the back of your neck as he did so.

Again you felt Hunter move beside you, stiff and tense as before. You wondered what was wrong with him. Was he jealous? You couldn't imagine that.

Crosshair moved a little closer and leaned over to you, so close that you could feel his body heat and your pulse quickened automatically against your will.

"What do you think, should we get a room?" he asked suggestively with a smirk.

"hmmm," you made thoughtfully, but before you could really answer that, Hunter stood up next to you with a jerk, startling you.

"Can I talk to you outside for a moment, brother?" he growled over the loud music.

Crosshair grinned as if he'd done something wrong, and a certain glee seemed to underlie his words as he said, "Sure. Is something bothering you?"

Hunter grabbed at his brother's collar and Crosshair, with an amused grin on his narrow lips, let the sergeant pull him out of the sitting area and out into the open.

Puzzled, you looked after the men.

"What the hell are you doing?!" rumbled Hunter angrily.

"Flirting," Crosshair returned lightly.

"You're trying to get Y/N into bed right now!" the sergeant snarled indignantly, his eyes blazing with anger.

The Sniper shrugged his shoulders as if he couldn't hold a water and said, "Don't act like you're entitled to her. You've never hit on her or asked her out or even done anything else like that. You're always pining over her from afar"

"You know how much I like her!" spoke Hunter harshly.

"That doesn't mean she's reserved for you, you should realize that. I have no intention of taking her away from you, I just wanted to demonstrate something to you today"

"And that would be?" the sergeant asked indignantly.

"That she won't wait forever for you to approach her."

Hunter paused, feeling his heart sink. Of course Crosshair was right, he had thought about that before. Even if his brother didn't make a pass at you, you were a great woman, there would be other men crossing your path who were interested in you and maybe you would fall in love with one of them. He thought about that a lot if he was honest.

"When we were soldiers and our love affairs, casual and impersonal, it was much easier to approach someone. You knew what to expect, your counterpart knew it too, it was simple. But this is different," he said thoughtfully.

Crosshair raised his eyebrows in surprise and said, "Don't get sappy or anything, you know I hate that."

Hunter sighed and said, "Just keep your hands off her, the rest is my problem. As long as she doesn't fuck any of my brothers, I'll be able to handle what comes my way"

The Sniper shook his head and snarled as he turned and walked towards the Marauder, "I doubt that".

After a little while, you followed the men through the back exit. Hunter was standing there alone, Crosshair had seemingly left, apparently not seriously interested in a night with you after all. Against your will, you felt a small twinge in your self-esteem.

With a sigh, you stepped toward Hunter, "Are you all right?"

Startled, he turned to you and asked, "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just a few seconds, why?" you returned confused "Did something happen that I'm not supposed to know about?"

Hunter sighed but didn't give you an answer, instead he just silently avoided your gaze.

"Fine, don't tell me," you grumbled defiantly "Where did Crosshair go?"

The sergeant clenched his fists and seemed strangely tense again.

When he answered, he sounded calm, but there was something vibrating under his voice that you could clearly perceive but not place.

"I sent him away."

You frowned.

"Why? You don't allow anyone to have fun, do you?" you grumbled, annoyed.

He turned to you and his gaze bored into yours so intensely that you held still, startled, like a frightened wild animal in the headlights of a speeder.

"I sent him away because it is not advisable to start intimacies or love affairs among team members. It only leads to complications," he spoke in a rough voice, regretting his words the moment he uttered them.

A lump formed in your throat, your chest tightened and your stomach seemed to eat itself. If he really thought that way, then he probably really would never be interested in getting close to you.

Hunter saw the look on your face, how thoughtful and downcast you suddenly seemed, and he wondered. He took a deep breath and asked, "You're so down all of a sudden. Do you have a crush on Crosshair or something?"

You blinked and tried to collect yourself.

"What?" you asked, perplexed.

"I asked if you had a crush on Crosshair," Hunter repeated, almost lurking.

You snorted and said, "Who gives a shit?" and turned to go back to the bar. But you suddenly felt Hunter's hand on your shoulder, holding you back.

"I do, it matters to me, I didn't mean to.... hurt you," he said strangely softly and at the same time he seemed sad.

With a sigh you said, "It's not Crosshair I have a crush on".

You were about to leave, but he held you back again.

"What else is it now?" you asked impatiently.

"But you're in love with someone" he stated "Someone on the team, that's why my words hit you so hard. That's right isn't it?"

You shrugged, "So what if it is, what does it matter? You have a clear idea and rules about that, so we don't need to talk about it anymore."

Again you turned around, this time when he tried to hold you back you broke free and growled over your shoulder in his direction, "Go bug someone else!" before walking back into the bar, the loud music blocking out his voice behind you.

@oneshot-one-kill

@moonstrider9904

@photogirl894

@chlorine-claws

@chxpsi

@nunanuggets

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

@mybigfatspoonielife

@where-is-my-mind-tho

@andyoufollowyourheart

[diedbutterflies69]

Drunk in love- Bang Chan imagine.

This is pure imagination. Minors don't interct.

Contains: explicit stuff fingering, blowjob, sex etc.

Red lights mv is the reason for this imagine.

Being alone never bothered you until now. Being alone at a place you don't belong. Sitting in An expensive night club, after quitting your job you decided to have time for yourself and do all the things you missed out so and the sixteenthth goal of your list was drinking in the city's most stunning and expensive club, you decided to get Fully wasted while slurping various wines, champagne, sweet Mimosa etc. but after seeing the price you realised that the one shot of vodka's price was equivalent to your whole month's grocery budget.

So yeah this is how you were struck, with a beautiful woman who gave you rich CEO vibes slightly drunk and was ranting about some buisness stuff you barely knew.

And she was really something else so damn pretty, elegant even her voice was sexy even though you were quite straight you wouldn't hesitate to be her sugar baby cause Money .

You don't understand how a powerful women like her was being so vulnerable infront of you, maybe because you helped her fixing her expensive backless dress, which was on edge of tearing, who didn't expect her to give you such a great treatment and open up to you. It has been 2 hours since you have been with that stunning women, but now you were really tired and was just wished to go to your nest. While being deep in your thoughts that women whose name was Sana (pretty people have pretty name too) her phone ranged .

" hey, your phone is ringing", you said her softly resulting her in giving a whiny look.

" whoever that is calling can suck fuck itself, you hear me , ignore it", Sana said after silencing her phone and again giving you some great intellectual knowledge.

The phone may have vibrated more than 6 times before Sana decided to to pick it and you again knew however was on the other line will be hearing tons of unique insults now ..

"hello, Bang I am absolutely fine and just having drinks with my new found friend, you relax and go, bye" Sana said screaming her lungs out as the music was hella loud. You were quite surprise by how kind she sounded, She called someone Bang as far you remembered , Must be someone special to her you thought.

"who was it? ", You asked her cautiously trying to not appear too nosy. In answer to your question she gave you a big smile and continuing " My little brother, you already know what kind of shit I am going through so he just worried for me, I am lucky right?", While describing her little bro there was a big smile on her beautiful face and yeah she surly was lucky cause the brother you had was a druggist because of whom you used to get really low on money back in days. And now the phone again rung and she picked up guess she really hated how the person on other side of line was feeling.

"Hello again", Sana said her voice really tired and vulnerable. You guessed that person on the other side asked her where she was as she said the club's name next. You really hate this club from the depth of your heart, cause you didn't got any alcohol to taste nor good food. You were bought back to reality As Sana yelled at the person who was on phone.

"I will kill you if you come here", Damn Sana sounded 1999 times more dangerous now and you were scared to death. But a little glad as someone was coming to pick her up and that meant you can go back to your dead apartment too.

"Guess he will eventually come here, I should just get fully wasted than hearing his boring lecture" Sana said after cutting the call , she signalled a waiter to your table and ordering some great quality of alcohol. Yess finally you could too get a little raste too of that sweet paradise drink, you were internally screaming as the waiter bought some nice too good to be true shots. Sana immediately gulping down three shot one after another means she just swallowed your three months grocery.

Now pushing your urge to atleast try one shot, you stopped Sana from getting wasted and distracting . Once again you killing your desires, after about 20 minutes you saw a drop dead gorgeous Man approaching your and Sana's table . That man was wearing an expensive black suit you could feel his intimidating aura even from a distance, his eyes darker than your future, even in those blurry red lights you can easily notice every feature of that hot stranger. You were bought back to reality when that stranger straight up goes to Sana who was little wasted but still sane. You salute her alcohol tolerance level.

" you fine?" The man asked Sana, now you were sure that he was Sana's little bro but you didn't thought by little she meant such a great human with outstanding body proportions. He was so sexy you were internally drowling over that sexy human's visuals.

" You seriously came here? Damn I love my brother so much", Sana said in her voice clearly indicating how drunk she was. She was smiling adorably at her bro but he looked at her with a annoyed gaze.

"get up, let me take you to your house, come", the stranger said and helped Sana to get up from her seat, which made her stumbled and now you clearly knew her alcohol tolerance level was trash, she wasn't able to even stand without any support . Your hands reached her waist in attempt to save her from falling. And that action finally made the man to look at you . your heartbeat increased so much just by his mere gaze at you . And for the first time in night he talked to you.

"who are you", he asked you . Ouch, that was an obvious question to ask but you were disappointed because how boring and uninterested his tone was with you while with Sana he sounded so fuckin caring. But regardless gulping down your nervousness, you replied to him politely.

"umm, I helped Sana slightly and from then we are talking", you knew your explanation was just trash but it atleast made that man realise that you were the 'new found friend' who Sana described on call.

"Okay, can you help me carry her back till parking lot?", The Stanger asked you, his voice now laced up with little gratitude and expectation. You simply nodded your head and wrapped Sana's one arm to your shoulder and helped her walking while that man went to pay the bill.

At parking lot you were standing with a little dead women, while waiting for him , all you saw at parking lot was beautiful and costly cars, something which you won't be able to afford it this lifetime. You never felt this much out of place before. That man's presence bought you back to reality, again feeling insecure as you standed next to Sana. She was a goddess and her brother an alluring devil.

He didn't spoke much to you and simply helped you carry Sana to the Car.

Now, an overdramatic old aged man coming out of car, which you think you knew, her deceased husband's dad, Sana had gave you her whole family history , future and economic information, apparently that old man treated Sana as his own daughter and today Sana lost the lawsuit related to her late husband's death and that was the reason for Sana's mad women behaviour today. That old man looked as Sana and it seemed like he was controlling his urge to cry, but nevertheless got inside the car with her to tired to even thank you.

Now here's when the fun begins. You were left alone alone with that alluring devil. But you sadly knew he wasn't even interested in you even 1 % so you got ready to go back to your nest and started walking until..

"wait!, Let me drop you to your home please", he said and wooow how could you say no to that glamorous offer as it was too late at night to get a bus and too hard to get a cab. You acted like a little hesitant but eventually said yes, as you didn't knew how less time it will take him to take back his offer. Following him to his car And again your jaw almost dropped it was the hottest car you ever seen in your life. And it was honour for you to get a chance to be inside it. The man opened the door for you, you not being sure if he was being a gentleman or to was preventing you to touch his car, but nevertheless you got inside it the temperature was warmer inside the car and the air freshener was doing a great job. He got on driving seat next to you and started driving.

After exiting the parking lot he asked for your address, and you just told him to drop next to bus stop cause the building you lived was apparently more like a abandoned haunted place.

he didn't forced you for further answers and started driving to your direction.

You were lost in admiring the Stranger's car from inside and literally got startled by his deep voice.

"listen, can I please drop you somewhere , your place is too far from here, I need the go somewhere today", he said you and your mood literally dropped, yeah it was true that you lived far away from club it took you 3 hours to reach there in traffic, so swallowing your disappoint you replied.

"it's okay, drop me here only", you didn't knew why your voice was so weak at the moment maybe because you wanted a little bit kindness from that man but he just ruined your every expectation.

"I am sorry, but there is another option too" that man said to when you were getting ready to yeet yourself out of his useless expensive car.

"you gonna call cab for me, no thanks I will look for it " you Said and you didn't expect to sound rude. You thought now that man will now won't hesitate to throw you out of window.

But in response he smiled, for first time in night but his smile a little evil.

"no, I meant you can spend the night at my house", he said voice laced up with nothing but purness.

And your heart stopped. Spending a night at someone else house and that someone was a dangerous devil. You immediately said no to his tempting offer but

"Please,it doesn't make me feel good to drop off a such a fantastic women of my car and you even helped my sister, I should repay your kindness, please.."

You were more than just shocked, whatever he just said was something you least expected, he fucking called me gorgeous you thought and your heart literally flied in the sky.

"no, it's okay please drop me here", you said impatiently, the nervousness kicking you on head.

"Relax, I am not gonna do anything to you, don't be afraid" he said you in such a calm tone fully opposite of his devil like demonor, you immediately melted and tried to consider his offer, his house won't be less than any luxury hotel and you being you..

"are you comfortable, letting a stranger in your house?" You asked him honestly you didn't wanted to make yourself a burden to that man. In response to your question the stranger let out a soft chuckle.

"forget me,are you comfortable being in some Stranger's house?", He asked you with strange curious tone. You honestly didn't knew the answer.

"Yes, I am comfortable, you only told you won't do anything so", your voice coming out softer a little innocent. He smiled at your answer, somehow satisfied.

"So should I take car to my house?", He asked you again, damn you wanted to shout a big ass yes, but suppressed the desire by simply nodding. And so the stranger reversed the car back to his house direction.

"what's your name ?", He asked you, looking at you finally he initiated a conversation.

"Y/N, what's your name?", You asked him.

"Chan", he simply replied.

"nice", you said and again silence. You were a super awkward person and that fact wasn't hided from Chan.

"What do you do for living?", Chan asked after some second and you frowned upon hearing that question.

"I am sorry, if it was too personal", he quickly noticed your behaviour you tried to say something "No, I am just unemployed at the moment and I am writer, yes writer", you replied what you said wasn't completely a lie you used to write some articles back in past but your recent job from which you quitted was at a restaurant.

"Wow, writers are amazing, it's great make people connect to your work", Chan complimented you for something you really didn't did. Still you took it and smiled back.

" your work must be tough sir, balancing off an company ain't easy", you complimented Chan back.

" Sana must have told you about what I do, right?", Chan asked you to which you nodded.

Again silence and in 5 minutes the car stopped infront of a skyscraper.

Rich people really live in sky. You thought.

"here we are", Chan said after opening the door for you and handing off the keys to guard.your neck almost got twisted to see end of the building.

"Done looking?", Chan asked you slightly waving his hand infront your face and damn he was veiny. Having a thing for hands was definitely your thing and Chan must have noticed your hungry gaze on his hands but didn't said anything .

"yeah let's go", you replied and started walking with him.

You both entered in heavantor. And again the same awkward air surrounding you both. Maybe it was sexual tension in Chan's mind which you scrapped off as awkward.

"Do you perhaps... Have a boyfriend?", Chan asked with a little hesitation in his, and for the first time in your whole life you got this nervous, he didn't proposed you but his question was very suggestive.

"no I don't, do you have girlfriend?", You answered and asked back.

"No", Chan answered and again silence.

"why you asked?", You again questioned him

"To know if I can make you interested in me or not", Chan said back a proud smirk dancing on his face and you were dead. He said something bold so confidently your mind pure hazey now.before you could say something the doors of hellevator opened.

"let's go", Chan said immediately getting out like he just didn't almost gave you heartattack. Nevertheless you followed him.

He put on the passcode and you both entered in his luxurious house. The house something you didn't expect. Dark, just as much dark as your future, but it looked freaking classy.

Chan showed you a room, to spend a night, but you noticed how he was holding back from something and as well as you. And you knew it was now or never.

"I am already interested in you, why would you want to make me though?", You asked if you thought it was bold but you stuttered as much as students who gave presentations.

But Chan find it alluring about you. Cliché but, he was too in daze after meeting you. And now finally his wish coming true. He smiled and come a little too close to you.

"Because, I am really interested in kissing your beautiful lips", Chan said , if this line would be came out of any normal guy then it would be to cringy, But Chan was your alluring hot devil and fantasy, someone so beautiful interested in me you thought. you tried to say the first thing that came to your mind.

"Then kiss.. me", You said the last word almost like a whisper , Chan smirked at you, you were literally his ideal type he knew you weren't innocent but ironically you were.

Chan's hand reached your cheek and made you look at him, being too embarrassed you avoided his eyes.

"Look at me, Y/N", Chan almost said as a whisper. Gathering your scattered courage you finally managed to look in to Chan's eyes and his eyes were .. scary.

"I can kiss you, right?", Chan again asked you and you sweared nothing is as hot as consent. You nodded a yes to him.

"Baby, use your words", Chan said the word baby rolled of his tongue so erotically.

"Yes", you said not breaking the eye contract.

"is it okay to Call me sir?", He asked you, now you were dead sure that this man was Kinky af. And you won't be surprised if he had a tons of chain in his bedroom.

"Kiss me, Sir", you said literally feeling so submissive to him. A last smile Chan gave you before his lips touched yours and the butterflies in your stomach exploded. His lips were soft, but the kiss wasn't he sucked at your bottom lip almost painfully and when his tongue entered your mouth, butterflies again exploded, his tongue doing wonders in your mouth , you didn't even knew a kiss so deep, so sensual can happen. With Chan's right hand at back of your neck ,the other one reached down to squeeze your hand in a tight yet sensual grip you finally feeling those veins and the kiss getting more heated.

"let's continue this in bedroom, Chan said after finally breaking the kiss to catch breath, he lifted you up in his arms and it felt so fuckin great, he was so strong even though you were little heavy Chan showed no sign of uneasiness. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and while he carried you to his bedroom, you never felt this much safe in anyone's arms as much as this hot Stranger's.

He put you down while unlocking his door, after unlocking he again carried you and softly laid you down on his grey bedsheets. His room was a mix of grey and blue a little weird but you didn't got much time to explore as Chan immediately started his ministrations on your body. He was a great man who believed in foreplay supremacy.

"Aah", you moaned a little as he sucked at your neck the little sound of yours making his dick painfully hard. He got on his knees towering your frame.

"Can your mouth handle this?", Chan asked you pointing at his memeber and were glad to give him a positive answer. Getting up, you undid his belt and removed both his pants and briefs simultaneously, Chan looking at you like a animal the whole time. The moment his erection was visible to you , you were beyond shock, he was so fucking big he won't obviously fit in your mouth, but you didn't wanted to disappoint Chan so you slowly entered the tip of cock in your mouth going little by little back and forth slowly till it was deep enough to hit the back of your throat. You slightly gagged and that sended shivers to Chan's spin ,to get that feeling again his hand wrapped around hair and detaching you from his cock.

"will you be comfortable, if I go rough?", Chan again asked you , and without any second thought you said yes to him. After being satisfied with your answer, he immediately tightened his grip on your hair and shoved you back on his cock, his tip directly coming in contract with back of your throat and a gagged being heard, you didn't expect him to be this rouf but it was such a turn on for you. You stumbled a little as he was ramming himself inside you hands gripping on to his thighs for support. He wasn't moaning too much but grunting and occasional deep breaths.

"Fuck, you have wonderful mouth babe, so fucking perfect", Chan praised you that resulted in your pussy skipping a heartbeat and encouraging you to go Even deeper.

Your one hand coming in contact with his balls which maybe was his string before cumming. He was grunting too much which meant he was close .

"keep going babe, I am gonna cum inside your mouth, will it be okay?", Chan asked and to affirm him you just increased the speed.

"don't let it fall" , Chan said and after a few seconds he bursted in your mouth, a warm feeling welcoming inside your throat and just as Chan commanded you swallowed it all without letting his seeds fall. After fully empting himself inside your mouth Chan removed his cock from your mouth.

"let out your tongue", Chan commanded you in his breathless voice you immediately following his words. Slowly removing your tongue.

You looked so submissive to Chan, the perfect person to fuck he wished to fuck. Chan spitted inside your mouth, your eyes widen on his sudden such a filthy yet hot action.

"Swallow it, babe", Chan said voice fully filled with lust. You obeyed him without any hesitation, whatever Chan was doing to you made you feel like being on cloud nine.

Chan again made you lie on the matteress , him staring at you from top, ever so submissive. Chan's hand directly reached your Fully clothed breasts his mere action made you whimper, your small little sounds were giving him so much satisfaction.

"so fucking sensitive", Chan said to himself as he his fingers were dancing on top of your breast. To eager to see your naked body, he slightly tilted your body to undo the dress zipper after successfully removing it he undid your bra next. Your breasts immediately being exposed to his eyes and Chan just lost his sanity, immediately slapping your right breast as an instict,. You moaned loudly at the sudden pain but it was pleasurable enough to make your panties wet.

"Do you like it, you like being gropped and slapped ,huh?", Chan asked you and your head in pure haze .

"yes sir I like it", you breathlessly said causing Chan to smirk , he loved to know what kind of effect he had on your body and mind. After twisting and slapping your nipples Chan finally decided to take them inside his mouth and paint them with beautiful marks. You were questioning his real identity at this moment his teeth felt like Some wolf was devouring you but it was damn pleasurable.

You were a moaner even a screamer during sex , which fueled Chan's lust to give you even more pleasure.

Being done with your boobs now Chan's hands reached your most sensitive part. He wasn't really surprised to know how much wet you were down there when his hands cupped your pussy through the panties.

"my baby is dripping, who caused her wetness?", Chans asked you in dangerous tone you just moaned at his words but he harshly slapped your cunt.

"I asked a question, answer it", Chan warned you his sudden rude tone again surprising you you stuttered as you answered him .

"you sir, I am dripping because of you", you answered Chan and he was satisfied. He entered his middle finger inside your pussy with through the cloth, the harsh texture of cloth making you moaned out. He removed your panties and without a warning entered his 2 fingers inside you and twisting them ever so harshly , Chan was a sex God.

And it was just the beginning of night.

Thanks for reading ❤️.

[sisterlelianas]

another life (oh, if only you knew)

ao3 link

this is a “small” (🤡) one-shot where our lady alcina dimitrescu meets the woman who ends up being her future lover for the first time before she’s turned into a vampire. they meet again, centuries later and are both unprepared to face each other, in their own way. In other words: they are gay ❤️ + someone tell these two fools how to navigate their feelings for each other, PLEASE 

word count: 10.810 words (yeah, i know)

author’s notes: a huge chunk of this was written before i played the game, meaning most of it (including things regarding Heisenberg’s powers, etc) is not canon compliant, still, i feel like going against canon is a good thing for us, anyway. y’all know what i mean. SO! this one-shot is actually really close to my heart. alcina and the girls live in my head absolutely rent free and i don’t even mind. hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

p.s. this is the first fic that i have ever posted and written. blame it on our milf

Big, social gatherings were useful in their own, distinct way. Meeting counts, their wives, the countesses... the secret lovers of those same counts, which everyone, but the wives, were aware of... there were plenty of those. Never a dull moment, truly. Attending a party your dear, darling husband organised, however, was a different story. Alcina Dimitrescu was not the kind of woman to be more than glad to step back from her role and allow a man to take the reigns for her, to allow him to play the part of the head of the house. She oftentimes found herself wishing for his... mysterious disappearance. He could even flat out drop dead - she was not picky. 

The overwhelming noise of constant blabbering from her guests was beginning to irritate her, though. Meaningless social affairs were most definitely beneath the Countess - hiding the frown that would frequently settle on the corners of her mouth, after a particularly loud cackle from one of the men, by sipping some wine seemed to be turning into a recurring move for the woman. Everywhere she looked all she could see was uninteresting people playing a part. Acting as if they were all happy to be there. What else was new? The same faces carrying out the same conversations. The worst part was that her husband had the most... particular taste in friends. They were all male, of course, and so incredibly stupid and dull. The kind you look at and just know they won’t be saying anything insightful throughout the entire affair. Men, the Countess mused. What else could you expect from such limited beings? The mere thought of them making her frown deeper, her lips pursing slightly for what seemed like a millisecond. 

Her husband was fuelled by attention - seemed to thrive off it, actually. She turned to look at him from the red, bergère chair she was sitting on and observed his behaviour from afar. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding a golden goblet filled to the brim with red wine. The contents of it would often spill and fall to the floor whenever he would give a hearty laugh or swing his arms around to better illustrate whatever dull-witted point he was trying to make. The goblet was filled to the brim no longer and his cheeks were rosy, meaning he was far from being sober, at that point. It was only a matter of time before she had to step in and chastise him for acting like a fool whose goal seemed to be disgracing House Dimitrescu, something the Countess would never turn a blind eye to. She held on to her own goblet of wine tighter, then. Luckily, it was not made of glass, or it would have shattered.

She exhaled harshly from her nose, once, before a charming, almost musical laugh broke her reverie. She had to keep herself from snapping her head to the side to look at where the sound had come from, making her movements slow and precise instead, so as to not draw attention to herself or her newfound curiosity. Well, well. Now that was a pleasant sight. The sound had come from a woman. An extremely beautiful one, at that. Her hair was brown, braided most elegantly, and complemented her features in a way that was almost indescribable. The warm lighting of the ballroom they were in altered it’s hue, reminding the other woman of free, autumn leaves, drifting gracefully in the wind. The Countess wondered how long the woman’s hair would be if she were to free it from the pins that were holding it in place.

Her dress was red, cut somewhat generously at the front. Bold, for the gathering she was attending, though it certainly made a statement, it would seem. The frame fitting, silken dress appeared to draw the attention of several men, who, of course, barely even bothered to make eye contact with the woman whenever they spoke to her. This made Alcina’s lips curl down momentarily in disgust. Men could truly be such dogs, she thought. 

The brown haired woman captured the attention of every person around her whenever she’d speak, although the smile she wore did not reach her hazel coloured eyes - it had a subtle, mechanical look to it - and her posture was slightly too stiff, as if she studied every move before actually moving. Her smile, her demeanour... it was all clearly forced, but only those who were paying very close attention could see through her mask. The woman’s eyes then shifted downwards when she sipped her wine. She felt a pair of eyes on her - sort of like how you feel when roaming around in a haunted house, you don’t see anything, yet feel everything, only this time, the feeling was more than welcomed. Drifting her eyes upwards, she finally met the Countess’s gaze. Almost like a magnet. How intriguing. She was, indeed, hauntingly beautiful, the mysterious woman thought. 

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, in a way that was almost too cliché. The brunette half-hoped she could relive the moment all over again. She could not look away. They both couldn’t. 

The woman’s lips were still hidden behind the glass of wine, but her eyes told the Countess all she needed to know. They stared at each other for what seemed like centuries and every second of it was absolutely delicious - the brunette didn’t shy away from Alcina’s prying eyes at all, she seemed to revel in the fact that she was the one the Countess was looking at - her chest puffed slightly, her head tilting upwards a bit, and when she finally removed the goblet from her face she had an almost missable smirk painting her soft, red lips, making one of Alcina’s eyebrows arch slightly. Ah, at this rate, the things you could see just by looking into another person’s eyes was almost criminal. 

Their staring contest was, much to Alcina’s chagrin, broken when a particularly loud and obnoxious laugh came from her husband. The fool was probably trying to charm one of his guests for the umpteenth time that evening. Having had enough, she stood up at once and took long strides towards him so as to not allow him to embarrass himself, or, rather, her, any further. The room didn’t fall silent, but several people spoke in a hushed tone as they watched the Countess walk towards the opposite side of the room. The way she moved was almost hypnotic - the skirts of her dress shifted delicately, her face completely still, not betraying any emotions, not a hair on her head out of place. It was almost as if she was floating.

“Beloved,” the sound of her voice evoked an immediate reaction out of her husband, who quickly turned to face her, visibly sputtering, and out of several other people near them. Heads literally turned. 

Everyone knew who was at the helm of House Dimitrescu, it didn’t matter how many parties her husband attempted to throw or how many Counts he tried to butter up. There was only one, and it was not him. It was her. He knew this. She knew this. Everyone did, and playing the part of the good, perfect, respectable wife was beginning to wear the woman down in a way that was borderline dangerous, at that point. Men are technically allowed to rule sometimes, unfortunately. This was not one of those times.

“My dearest wife-“ her husband started, slurring his words slightly. She immediately cut him off by grasping his arm in a way that told him to stop talking, but also looked relatively loving to whoever was watching, “A word,” she was not asking, she was telling. 

The brown haired woman, who had previously captured the Countess’s attention, watched as the couple walked, with their arms linked, towards a secluded part of their castle. She noticed how the black haired woman nodded curtly towards her guests as she walked past them, not wanting to be a poor host despite being displeased with her husband’s behaviour. Brown eyes took in the other woman’s.... figure as she walked away. A sight to behold, as she had initially guessed. Her dress hugged all her curves in the most mouthwatering way. It was almost too difficult for one to tear their eyes from her.

In the meantime, the party was simply not the same when she was absent. Like an ever-present energy, not a soul in that room could look at the Countess and mistake her for a person who could go unnoticed. Even if she wasn’t in the room physically, everything had her name written all over it. It was hers. It was all hers. 

 ——

Several moments passed before the Countess and her husband decided to grace the party with their presence once more, still, the brunette immediately took note of it and watched as the other woman navigated the room confidently to greet some of her other guests, never once breaking into a full smile, however. Maybe they just hadn’t earned it.

If she wanted to greet her and leave a lasting impression, before having to leave the party, it had to be now.  

——

“— they are positively dreadful. I cannot bear the sight of them. The man calls himself a painter yet cannot seem to find within himself the ability to paint properly!” a man loudly said, some of the guests laughing along with him. Others at him. Alcina’s facial expression, on the other hand, remained completely neutral with no signs of her cracking a smile anytime soon. The man noticed and, unfortunately for him, made an attempt to mansplain art to the Lady of the House. The group fell silent, uncomfortably so, as the man waited on Alcina to grace him with a response. It did not seem like he was getting one. 

“You are out of your depth, Constantin,” Alcina immediately recognised the lilting voice, looked over her left shoulder and towards the sound. It was her. The phrase was voiced with a hint of playfulness so as to not humiliate the man any further, “Our host knows more about the wonders of the arts than you ever will.” She was standing directly beside Alcina now, yet seemingly refused to meet her gaze, choosing not to break eye contact with the man who dared question the Lady’s knowledge instead.

“In fact,” she inhaled through her nose, pursed her lips - allowing a hint of contempt to escape her for a fleeting moment - and clasped her hands at her front, “I believe we are all uncultured, empty-headed people in comparison, no? Some more than others”, she gave the man a pointed look, making the people around her chuckle in consensual agreement. That’s when she finally turned her head to face the other woman, whose gaze had been boring holes into her head as soon as she had decided to stand beside her. That’s when the brunette noticed that no one else was near the Countess, but all directly in front of her. It was as if she had stepped onto the woman’s stage. The realisation made her bow her head humbly before turning her body to fully face her, “I don’t believe we’ve met, my Countess”, she extended her hand, “Angela Drăculea, I have been meaning to make your acquaintance for awhile, now”.

This time, her smile had reached her eyes, which were now half-lidded. The laugh lines that formed charmingly around them only seemed to become more noticeable once Alcina took her hand in her own and hummed in acknowledgement, “I don’t believe our husbands have met”, she stated matter of factly.

“I beg your pardon?” the other woman said. They were still holding each other’s hands, the feeling sending shivers down Angela’s spine - she even seemed to draw nearer when the Countess spoke, which did not go unnoticed. Like a sailor being charmed by a siren, completely unaware of the perils surrounding such action. Alcina’s gaze refused to leave her own. It soon became intoxicating.

“He would have introduced us by now,” her calming voice said, before finally dropping the other woman’s hand, “Unless you come here uninvited and are a trespasser,” once again, it was not posed as an inquiry, it was as if she was throwing statements at the other woman, gauging her reaction to them.

The brunette squinted her eyes without dropping her endearing smile, “Our husbands have not met, no.” she squared her shoulders, then, and allowed her gaze to drift downwards, towards the Countess’s necklace, though she doubted that that’s what the other woman was  really looking at, “I am afraid I have no husband to introduce in the first place,” she playfully said, giving her a knowing smile and looking into her eyes once more. Angela was good at matching other people’s energy. If they teased, she would tease back. If they taunted, she would follow. If they threatened...

A hint of a smile ghosted Alcina’s lips, “Is that so?”

The atmosphere changed around them almost immediately. Some of the guests even squirmed uncomfortably whilst watching the verbal exchange unfold. It was not a normal conversation by any means. The brunette seemed to be speaking to the Countess for a particular reason. Alcina, on the other hand, was testing her. Watching her. Studying her, in a way that was not totally uncomfortable but also let the other woman know that she was not to be taken for a fool. Even so, their audience didn’t seem to bother this so-called ‘Angela’, Alcina noted. If anything, it only seemed to encourage her. Interesting, she thought.

The woman gave a smile, that was absolutely sinful, and bit down on her bottom lip for a split second. The woman opened her mouth to say something before placing her, now empty, goblet of wine on a round, silver platter one of the servants, who walked past her, was holding, “Indeed,”

“Rather unusual, wouldn’t you say?”, her tone lost all signs of amusement, then, and her expression turned almost sour. The sudden change of heart caught the brunette off guard, but unfortunately to Alcina, she was quick-witted and would not back down easily.

“Some would say so, yes,” her chin tilted upwards almost imperceptibly. She couldn’t stand taller than the other woman even if she tried, however. They were about the same height, Angela was slightly shorter, but the way the Lady of the House carried herself made her look taller than any other person in that room, almost incomprehensibly so, “Some would even go as far as to question my womanhood. Be that as it may... it is not how I see it.”

Alcina’s nostrils flared for a brief second, she had a feeling that the woman before her was about to cross a line that should never be crossed. Not with her. It was as if she was pushing all her buttons just to see if she could. A mistake. Nevertheless, she pressed on, “How do you see it?”, she glowered, daring her to speak her mind.

Angela didn’t look the tiniest bit regretful. It drove Alcina mad. She was a lady, therefore making a scene was absolutely out of the question, but Gods be damned, if the woman in front of her didn’t stay in line—

“Complete and utter freedom.” she cooed. The last thing Alcina expected was for the woman to bend at the waist, then, seemingly choosing to remove herself from the conversation now before it ended poorly, and moved to hold the Countess’s hand in her own once more. She paused, allowing Alcina to remove her hand from her grasp. When that didn’t come, she looked up from under her lashes, not moving from the position she was in, and placed a deliberate kiss on her hand, feeling it tense up under her touch. 

Once they stood at eye level, the first thing Angela observed was the Lady’s facial expression. First, her eyes flashed dangerously. Then, her jaw clenched. But then, and much to the brunettes dismay, Alcina’s face went blank. All terrible signs, when one is making an attempt at courtship, really. No matter though, because the last thing Angela noticed before finally moving away from the Countess were her eyes. One’s body always betrays them, it would seem, for the woman’s pupils were blown and only one word was written all over her face. Desire.

“In another life, perhaps?” was all the infuriating woman said, a soft smile on her face, before finally moving away, turning her back on the Lady and disappearing into the crowd. She left just as the Countess’s husband decided to join in on the conversation he had just missed. Whatever it was that he said, it earned him a hissed out reply from his wife. 

 ———————————————

“My decision is final, there will be no argument.  Remember from whence you came,” was all the priestess had to say for the room to settle down, “Unless any of you provide me with a reason as to why our plan should change, I advise you all spare me your childish, petty squabbles”. Her voice was cold and left no room for disagreement. Heisenberg looked at his sister, his chest puffed and a ridiculously smug grin on his face. There was nothing more she wanted to do at that moment than wipe it off his face. With his hammer, perhaps. 

He had always been an irksome man, yet became even more so after his transformation. Alcina was thankful for the fact that she did not have to deal with his presence on a daily basis. He was like an annoying smell you simply could not get rid of and having to deal with familial issues even after your death felt like a poor joke. He did not respect her. She would have to change that.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” he patronisingly said, bowing to his sister mockingly, “you will not be disappointed”. There was his wolffish grin again. Alcina tsked and moved to stand behind her seat once more. Losing Ethan Winters did not irritate her too much - she did not care for the man nor for his safety - the fact that she was losing him to her brother, of all people, however... Now, that was a different story. It seemed that, even in death, men attempted to reach for things that were not theirs to claim. She knew her brother. His irresponsible nature would end up getting the best of him and she would have to clean up his mess. That’s how it always went. She and her daughters would’ve killed the mortal so much quicker. 

He turned to face the man in shackles then, opened his arms wide and began, loudly, “Lycans and gentlemen, we thank you for waiting! And, now, let the games beg—“ 

He would have finished his speech if he had not been rudely interrupted by the sound of the doors, leading to the old, dilapidated chapel, slamming against the walls, a woman standing on the threshold. She was wearing all black garments, which were softly swaying in the cold, winter breeze, her face fully shadowed and hidden both by her hood and some kind of plain, black material covering the lower half of her face. Not a single hint of skin in sight. Her ensamble was not poor or dirty in the slightest. It was perhaps a bit hard on the eyes, but one could tell it was carefully handpicked by its wearer. Clothes do make others perceive you differently, after all. Whatever it was that she was trying to achieve by dressing in such fashion, it seemed that she had succeeded.

Her posture was straight and one of her, gloved, hands was holding on to some kind of satchel. Everyone in the room was surprised by the sudden interruption, including the mortal, who was now making pathetic attempts to uncomfortably turn and face whatever new threat he would have to deal with later. Everyone looked as if the woman was trespassing. Everyone but the priestess. 

“You have decided to join us after all, I see,” her tone was far from welcoming. It almost sounded as if she was reprimanding the woman, not just for interrupting their meeting, but for showing up at all, “Do you come bearing news?”, once again, her tone was flat, giving away the impression of utter disinterest and boredom. 

Heisenberg was leaning against his hammer and pinching the bridge of his nose with his right hand, probably wondering when he was going to be allowed to play with his food. Alcina, on the other hand, was watching this woman, who had not yet made a sound, carefully. It was almost like they had been interrupted by a ghost. A ghost they were not meant to see. She took the other woman in once more, noticing how she was, surprisingly, not as short as the others around her. Still not as tall as the Countess, but definitely much taller than her brother, for instance. How interesting. 

“My suspicions were correct,” that voice.... where could she have heard it before? Lady Dimitrescu stood taller then, her eyes widening for a split second and her lips forming a thin line before she could keep her facial expressions under check. It could not be, could it? After all those years? 

“You took your precious time,�� Miranda critiqued, “what have you learned?”, the room was dead silent, save for a few lycans who were growling lowly at the new guest. All eyes were set on this newcomer, which, interestingly enough, seemed to upset her. Her hand had left her satchel and was now gripping her black cloak, as if she was trying to wrap it around herself even tighter. Only one other person in the room kept most of her body covered - Donna, the head of House Benenviento, but even she was a poor example. One woman was a... grieving daughter, the other was not.

“Our enemy, our true enemy, is one Chris Redfield. He plans to strike from the shadows once we are all too exhausted to retaliate.” Her voice was being somewhat muffled by the material covering her face, but it was clear enough that no one needed to listen closely to understand what she was saying. Even if she looked utterly uncomfortable, her posture did not give that away at all. She stood tall. Proud. She did not cower or shift closer to the shadows, no matter how badly she wanted to. In all honesty, it was not a poor effort, but there was one person who could see right through her. 

“And you know this how, exactly?” Heisenberg drawled. Moving away from his hammer and sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose just to take a better look at the woman.

“He is here. In your village. Roaming around your property. Studying you. Something that is only happening because you were much too busy hunting down this stupid, useless man for sport,” the woman snapped, yet kept the volume of her voice relatively low and her tone neutral, clearly not entertained by the man’s behaviour. Her eyes gave out this orange glow with a red tint to it - they flashed whenever Heisenberg tried to address her. Some curses become a blessing though, because the man’s infuriating demeanour made the woman let go of her cloak, her posture straightening once more, but not out of discomfort this time. 

“Careful, Angela,” the priestess warned, cutting their argument short, “know your place.” it was posed as a warning, not a threat,  but, frankly, Angela had been roaming the Earth for far too long, now, and standing down was not something she was inclined to do. Ever.

“With all due respect, my Priestess, my place is something I am excruciating and painfully aware of.” Angela spat out, her tone making Alcina’s lips curl upwards in acknowledgement for a brief moment. That did sound like the woman she had met on that dreadful party all those years ago. Though she was, obviously, not the same as she once was... in more ways than one.

The room fell silent for the umpteenth time that day and remained that way for a few, uncomfortable seconds. Angela’s chest rose and fell steadily, her eyes never leaving the priestess’s. The awkward, tense moment was broken when the House Beneviento puppet, Angie, coughed once, followed by a small, meek “.... sorry...”. This was going to be a long day. 

“I just want my daughter—“ general grumbles of annoyance and a loud ‘shut the fuck up’ came from the people around him. Well. Maybe that would have to come later.

“You cannot be suggesting we let this man go?” the word was practically spat out, which was definitely in character for Lady Dimitrescu, “For once, I agree with my sister,” was what Heisenberg said, earning him a disgusted look from the Countess. 

“Maybe I have not made myself clear,” Angela turned to face Alcina for the first time in literal centuries, then. The taller woman wished she could see her face, her fingers twitched momentarily at the thought. Still, she refused to let any kind of emotion seep through her mask, opting to pretend to be completely unfazed by their conversation instead. 

The other woman did not seem particularly glad to see her, which sent an uncomfortable feeling through the lady vampire’s chest. This kind of behaviour was not to be rewarded.

.... Surely she had not forgotten her? 

“I suggest we move our efforts towards a more fruitful endeavour, such as doing away with the man who wants to eradicate us. It is entirely up to you, however,” her eyes scanned the taller woman’s face. Looking at her eyes, her hair, the laugh lines around her mouth and, then, settling on her lips before looking away entirely. 

It was strange, seeing her like this. Her fiery personality was, of course, still there, but before the Countess stood a woman who was merely a shell of who she used to be. She had often thought about the woman who had boldly courted her for all to see. Wondered if she had lived a full life. Happy and free, as she was. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. She looked utterly miserable now, which was a clear indication of just how consensual the experiments that were inflicted upon her were. There they stood. What had once separated them centuries ago seemed to separate them now. One was still a caged animal, struggling to get free. 

A pang of something hit Alcina’s chest. That was definitely not a feeling she welcomed with open arms. Some things are meant to be secured under lock and key. Never to be brought up, not once. This was one of those things. 

The woman bowed her head slightly, a sign of respect towards the Countess. Having seen that, Heisenberg made a disgusted sound, immediately destroying whatever moment they were about to have. 

“Fine. If this one goes, I want the other one,” he turned towards Miranda, “It is only fair,” the smug smile returning to his face.

The Houses argued amongst each other whilst Angela stood on the sidelines watching it all unfold. The dynamic between them seemed about what you’d expect from a bunch of dysfunctional monsters whose Mother was hellbent on calling them a family, though it was borderline comical most of the time. Angela pursed her lips and looked away from the scene with disinterest, her gaze landing on the mortal, instead. Funnily enough, he looked more confused than frightened, which almost made the woman’s lips curl up in amusement. His expression was understandable.

She was pulled away from her thoughts when Alcina threw a particularly petty insult at her brother, her eyes flashing dangerously and her booming voice carrying throughout the entire building. Even after centuries having passed, she remained the most strikingly powerful and beautiful woman Angela had ever seen. She took her time observing her then - the way the veins on her neck became more noticeable when she began raising her voice; the way her nose scrunched up in disgust whenever her brother tried to speak to her; the way she scoffed and waved her hand at him dismissively whenever he made another stupid comment. Even so, she remained positively regal throughout the entire verbal exchange. Angela wished for nothing more than to be a painter, at that exact moment, so she could immortalise the Countess as she saw her. Gazing upon her this freely almost felt like a privilege. 

If only she could go back in time, she would have taken her away from that blasted party and her stupid husband and kept her all to herself, though she doubts the Countess would have let her. 

Sighing in relief when Miranda put an end to their fighting for the second time that morning, Angela awaited her orders. She could spend the rest of her days admiring the taller woman, the screaming, on the other hand, was beginning to wear her down. That was when the priestess finally made her decision. Ethan Winters was no longer a priority, though he should not be allowed to leave the village as of yet. This earned her several shouts of protest from the man, who ended up being taken away by two of Miranda’s helpers. 

“Do not stray from the village, Angela. I need you here,” Miranda commanded, “Alcina, take her with you. You are to await further instructions,” her wings fluttered as she spoke. Her demeanour calm, as always. 

Heisenberg’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Angela interjected, “Very well. I will find my own way to the Castle,” and with that, she abruptly turned and walked confidently towards the exit. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible. The amount of eyes on her were making her skin crawl.

“She’s going to walk there?”, Heisenberg scrutinised, glaring at the woman as she left. His sister didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he had said, seemingly lost in thought, which was definitely uncharacteristic of her.

“Heisenberg...,” the priestess warned. The conversation was over. 

 Having realised his mistake, he raised his hands up in defeat, though his eyebrows were still snapped together, either in confusion or irritation. 

——-

Angela could technically use her powers to get to the Castle in the blink of an eye, yet saw fit to do the exact opposite of that. Call it stubbornness or whatever else you wish - she saw her powers as entirely unnatural. Animalistic, even. There was not one thing about her transformation that she had come to terms with over the decades. There was no encore, there was no sense of accomplishment. It didn’t make her feel more powerful. No, there was only blood, sweat and tears. That’s all there ever was. No need to romanticise it. You couldn’t, even if you tried.

She looked up, trying to take in the Castle in all its glory. She wondered what the Countess had done to her husband once she was turned, the thought making her purse her lips in amusement. She didn’t seem particularly fond of the man, so her best guess was that he died an excruciating death. Whether or not he deserved it was not up to her to decide. She got exactly what she wanted, in the end. She was officially the Head of the House, no man holding her back and keeping her from achieving her fullest potential. Good. She deserved it. She deserved all of it.

Yet... facing her now, after all that had transpired? Gods forgive her. She didn’t know if she could take it. 

She walked steadily towards the main entrance, her fist hovering over the flat surface of the door before finally giving it three, strong knocks. The doors were opened by two, frail looking maids who immediately stepped to the side to let her in. Choosing not to give it much thought, Angela walked through the threshold and looked around. It all looked exactly the same. A pang of nostalgia and sadness hit the woman’s chest, but her reverie was broken when the sound of two loudly beating hearts overcame her senses. Her head turned slowly towards the two maids. Their chests were rising and falling rapidly, meaning they definitely saw her as a threat - she didn’t blame them, all they could see were her eyes, and they were not really welcoming, either. Her gaze traveled along the women’s faces yet settled on their necks as soon and she noticed how they had both been... branded. The bite marks were small, so they were not given to them by the Countess. How intriguing. 

“Lady Drăculea,” Ugh, “so nice of you to finally join us,” he sauntered towards her, his hammer resting on his right shoulder, “how was your morning stroll? Not too many corpses on the way, I hope”, he grinned. There were... a lot of corpses, actually. It made her stomach turn, but she would never tell him this, regardless of whether or not he was right. His ego was already too big for his own good. 

“Why do you pester me,” she asked, her tone flat and her mouth twitching downwards when she realised he planned on annoying her even further. Thank goodness her face was covered, that way he had absolutely no way of knowing if he was getting under her skin. 

He gave out a mocking smile and pressed on even further, “You know, I have just been made aware of the most interesting piece of information,” he toyed with the handle of his hammer and eyed the woman up and down, sizing her up. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. 

Angela clenched her jaw, her mouth set in a hard line. She moved to the side in an attempt to walk past him, but he would not let her - sidestepping in front of her whenever she tried to leave. 

“This isn’t your first time in the Castle. You came here once long before you were turned into one of us,” he stated matter of factly. He turned to the side, then, and used his free hand to wave it around, never letting go of his hammer, “this must really take you back. Say,” he moved closer then, his voice barely a whisper, “on a scale of one to ten, how awful was my sister?” there was his stupid grin again. Angela didn’t have the faintest clue as to how he came to know of her past - Alcina certainly had not told him, so that leaves.... who, exactly?

She heard the distinct sound of heels clicking on marble in the distance before finally deciding to give the Countess’s brother a reply, “I remember being bothered by a pesky, little man that evening and I can certainly relate to that now,” she said, curtly, “this feeling brings me back more than the haunting halls of this Castle ever could”, that was when a flash of white entered her peripheral vision. There stood the Lady of the House, in all her glorious beauty, at the top of the stairs. Her left, gloved hand resting on the railing, she seemed to be accessing the situation, trying to decide whether or not she would step in and get her brother in line. The two, poor maids were still standing on the very same spot, not being allowed to leave until the guest moves away from the front entrance and into the Castle. It was, overall, an incredibly uncomfortable situation. 

Heisenberg stared at her blankly at first, but then his face broke into an almost predatory smile. He stepped closer to Angela, who refused to step back, “I am going to tell you this once and only once. Do not test me any further. I am not as patient as the Priestess, dog,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. It looked as if she had grown ten inches taller. Maybe she had. It certainly felt like she had. Heisenberg’s grip on his hammer tightened at the final word the woman spat out, the air around them almost crackling from all the tension. Funny how she was several inches taller than him and yet the man was still  brave, or bold... stupid enough to irk her. She half hoped he would keep going - she needed to release some pent up anger anyway. Heisenberg’s posture stiffened. 

Having had enough of the display of ego measuring, the Countess decided to interrupt their special moment before they ruined her day even further, “That’s enough,” she said, her voice had an edge to it. She was obviously not pleased with their behaviour - they were both just guests in her Castle, after all. She continued then, her voice much more neutral this time around, “Your chambers are this way,” she was speaking to the woman, yet her eyes were trained on her brother. The Countess slowly extended a long arm towards one of the corridors to her right, her movements precise, and her left hand, still resting on the railing, gripped it tighter. 

Angela took that as her queue to finally leave Heisenberg behind, glaring at him one last time before moving away from the door, which put the two maids out of their misery and allowed them to leave the spot they were stuck in moments ago, and going up the stairs. Alcina was still standing near the railing and still eyeing her brother, who now had turned to face the two women, craning his neck slightly to look up at them. Angela watched as the two siblings seemed to communicate telepathically. She didn’t fully understand it, but felt as if it was not something she wanted to insert herself into or interrupt. 

Her brother grunted something under his breath before tipping his hat at his sister and finally walking out. She was asking — no, telling — him to stand down. He was on her turf, now. No one understands the implications of that better than a dog, Angela thought. 

They were alone now and, for someone who was bold enough to flirt with a married Countess at a social gathering her husband hosted, Angela did not seem to be able to meet her gaze. The taller woman enjoyed seeing her squirm, apparently, because they remained silent for a few, long seconds before the brunette was forced to say something to break the ice, “I humbly thank you, my Countess, for your gracious hospitality. It has not gone unnoticed”. Maybe her boldness was not what it used to be, but her courteousness and charm were still very much intact, Alcina noted. 

All that came from Alcina was a soft hum. She stood there, accessing the woman before her. It was almost as if she was expecting something from her - Angela, being the chivalrous person that she was, knew exactly what was missing, but chose to ignore it for the time being, “That way, yes?”, she looked down the corridor Alcina had previously extended her arm towards. She secretly hoped she could simply go looking for the room herself. Standing near the Countess was torture - in the best way possible, of course. 

“Indeed,” came the sharp response. She was not pleased with Angela’s choices leading up to this moment. The Lady’s lips curled downwards, something the other woman missed, since she was not even looking at her to begin with. A mistake. 

Not one more word was said before the raven haired woman turned and began taking long strides towards her guest’s assigned chambers. Angela followed. She always would. 

Clenching her fists to keep herself from drifting her eyes downwards and along the Countess’s frame, arriving to her guest room came as a distraction and was therefore a god given gift. Someone please. Put her out of her misery.

She watched as Alcina opened the, now ridiculously small, door, bending over at the waist to enter the room. Angela had to do the same, only she did not bend as low as her host. The room was elegantly decorated, as was expected, and surprisingly clean.  She wondered just how many maids Alcina actually had and how long it would take scrape the floors clean, let alone dust each and every room off. She was glad she was not in their shoes, to say the very least. 

“I won’t be needing that,” Angela said, flatly. 

She could sense the taller woman’s rising anger, but her statement left the Countess confused enough that she ended up allowing the brunette to keep her head, “A mirror,” Alcina deadpanned. It was posed as a question, but when Angela turned her head to look the woman in the eyes, all she saw was utter disinterest.

“Yes. I would rather not,” she clasped her hands at her front and looked around the room. She should really stop doing that. The way she refused to meet Alcina’s eyes when she spoke to her was beginning to anger her. She could tell. 

“The tone you have been carrying thus far is extremely ill-advised. You are a guest in my Castle. Do not make me remind you again,” her voice was as cold as steel, yet the Lady of the House seemed to show leniency for the second time that morning. If Angela were someone else, her head would probably be on a spike in the Castle grounds. Still, abusing her luck any further would be unwise. 

The shorter woman’s pulse quickened and she bit on the insides of her cheek to keep herself grounded. Turning to fully face the Lady once more, she began removing the garments that were covering her face. First her hood and then her black mask, letting it settle around her neck, instead. 

Alcina’s eyes seemed to immediately absorb the newly exposed features, her gaze scanning her face shamelessly before falling squarely on her lips and on a scar on the left side of her upper lip, which was new to her. Her hair also looked different. Gone was the intricate hairstyle with braids - taking its place was a loose bun. Alcina’s eyes were, once again, the only thing that betrayed her emotions and cracked her mask, for everything else in the woman, from her face down to her posture, was absolutely still and unreadable. Angela was aware of the fact that she looked older. Pale. The agony she felt over the decades written all over her face.

She did not bother to decipher how Alcina saw her now, it was ultimately pointless and she doubted the Countess cared that much about whatever it was that she thought she saw in her. It had been years since the smaller woman had looked at herself in a mirror - she refused to do it ever since her transformation, in fact, which explained her aversion towards them now. 

“Forgive me, offending you was not my intention. It never will be,” her eyes were tired, yet she did not break eye contact with the woman this time, “it was poor of me,” she was visibly choosing her words in the most careful way possible, “I simply need to cover it, is all,” she hoped that her choice of words did not anger her host this time around. She awaited her response

 ...

“Do as you must,” and with that, the Lady left. 

Angela sighed to herself and began looking for spare sheets so she could cover the blasted thing and not have to look at it any longer. Thankfully, no one was there to see her as she struggled to place the sheets over the mirror - not wanting to look at herself as she did it made the affair ten times harder. It almost made her laugh, in fact. It was too ridiculous. A low chuckle resonated throughout the room all of the sudden. It... didn’t come from her. Turning slowly, she was met with a pair of bright, yellow eyes, lurking in the shadows. 

“It would be easier if you turned them to the side and tucked them behind it,” the young woman said, nodding her head towards the sheets Angela was holding. The brunette stared at her for a few seconds before looking down and taking her advice, turning the sheets, placing them over the mirror - though she turned her face to not look at her reflection - and, after a couple of attempts, managing to tuck them behind the damned thing. Finally.

“Well, would you look at that,” Angela mused. 

“That took you way longer than it should have,” the faceless woman deadpanned.

That seemed to catch Angela off guard and she snorted, against her better judgment, before clearing her throat and facing the pair of eyes once more, “I don’t think we’ve met. Angela D—“, she thought about extending a hand to greet the mysterious figure in the shadows, but was interrupted before she could even finish saying her name. 

“I know who you are,” she teased, “Mother has told us all we need to know about you,” she continued. That made Angela’s posture straighten. Us? Mother? 

“I seem to be at a disadvantage, then. The Countess has not told me your name,” Angela countered. She didn’t feel threatened by the girl, still, she seemed clever. And nothing good can come out of Alcina’s children, surely.

The mystery girl left the shadows then and, curiously enough, she did not seem to resemble Alcina at all, yet the way she carried herself did remind her of the Countess. Her calm, yet reserved demeanour almost too close to her mother’s. 

“Bela,” she told the taller woman, her face blank. 

“It is an honour to meet one of the Countess’s daughters,” she bowed her head slightly at the girl. 

“Mother spoke of you often,” the girl told her, apparently seeming to be more inclined towards skipping the pleasantries, “though I must warn you, do not upset her,” monotoned the daughter, “my sisters and I are not kind to those who do.” 

Angela didn’t take it as a threat, though she knew she probably should. Part of her was glad Alcina had such devoted daughters. The other half was amused at the child’s boldness. 

“I understand,” she told her, wanting to reassure her. Upsetting the Lady of the House was definitely not on Angela’s list of things to do, yet she didn’t want her daughters to think that she, a guest, planned on harming their mother. Gods forbid. 

“Good,” Bela finished. As soon as the word was out of her mouth she all but dissipated in front of Angela’s eyes, leaving in her wake a cloud of small insects who disappeared through the cracks in the walls and left the room. Were the cracks there to allow them to traverse the Castle faster...? Angela stood there for a second, trying to understand what had just happened before giving up and shaking her head slightly. Hopefully this day was done with throwing things at her and actually allowed her to finally rest before being summoned by Miranda. 

She was out of luck, it seemed. The nights were always so much harder on her for no apparent reason. At least not one that she was aware of. Before she tried to go to bed and call it a day, she had to ask Alcina for.... a bigger nightdress. It was utterly embarrassing, but thankfully the Countess was kind enough to not make any comments. The maids then gave her a silk nightgown - it didn’t fit her particularly well since the Lady was still taller than her, but it was better than wearing nothing at all. 

She was in bed and staring at the ceiling, her fingers intertwined and her hands resting on her chest. She was tired, but knew that having a good nights sleep was not something that would happen any time soon. Even if she did manage to rest her eyes for a couple of hours, the nightmares would certainly wake her up. She longed for the nights, before her transformation, when she simply had to shut her eyes to fall asleep for as long as she wished. Now she didn’t need to sleep as much, true, but the nightmares proved themselves to be much more than a nuisance. They plagued her almost every night. It frustrated the woman beyond words. 

Choosing to do something else with her “free” time, she got up, put her, or Alcina’s, slippers on, which were also not the right size for her, and left her room. The Castle was not as cold as it appeared to be, for whatever reason, so discomfort was not something she had to deal with as she explored the halls of a Castle she had already been in... in another life. Something caught her eye, then, as she roamed around, taking everything in. A piano. An expensive looking one, at that. She drew nearer to take a closer look, running her hands over the keys without pressing too hard on them so as to not make any sound. It was clean. Not a speck of dust on it. Those poor maids.

She felt a pair of eyes on her again, but the way the energy in the room shifted dramatically told her this wasn’t one of the daughters.

“Do you play?” Angela asked softly, her fingers still running over the surface of the piano. She heard a low hum first - the actual reply came a few seconds later.

“Yes, though it’s been centuries since I last indulged in it,” said the Countess, her tone was almost matching the other woman’s. It wasn’t soft per se, but it was softer than usual. 

“Ah,” Angela let out a bitter, halfhearted chuckle, “the mundane getting left behind once more, yes?”, she rested her hand on top of the piano and turned her head slightly, awaiting the other woman’s response but still not looking at her. 

“You speak of the past most fondly,” Alcina’s tone indicated that she disapproved of such notion, though she was clearly trying to not flat out say it. The comment made Angela’s expression close up immediately and she moved to stand next to a big window, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant thoughts creeping up on her. Ah. The moon and her were well acquainted by now.

“If I could go back in time, I would.” she retorted. That was all she wanted to say on the matter, though she doubted the conversation would end there. 

Alcina was still watching her from the shadows, her gaze trained on her. The scenario reminded Angela of a sinner confessing the unspeakable to a priest. Funny how the Countess was the priest in that situation. The thought had Angela biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. The amusement quickly dissipated from her mind, however, as it often did.

“I have.... regrets. Nothing has meaning now,” the woman confessed, she crossed her arms at her midriff then, her nails digging into her biceps. 

“If you feel as if there may not be meaning, then find one and seize it,” the reply was not meant to sting, but it did nonetheless. Of course she would say that. Why wouldn’t she? 

“It is easier said than done,” Angela said bitterly. The conversation was beginning to turn sour. 

She heard the Lady tsk and then felt her getting closer, her steps almost soundless. She doesn’t hear the telltale clicking of her heels, so she must not be wearing them, “Excuses, excuses,” she was standing right next to her now, though she wasn’t facing the shorter woman. They were both looking out. Facing the moon. Angela found it preferable, that way. Stripping herself of all her walls in front of the Countess was easier if she did not have to stare into her eyes. The shadows served as her shield. The dark making her feel at home. 

They stayed in comfortable silence for awhile before Angela broke it “I still feel it,” she had an almost pained expression, her voice no more than a whisper, “withering away, like a dying ember, and rotting inside me,” 

That made Alcina turn her head to face her, waiting for her to continue. She watched as the woman’s arms dropped, only for her to begin pinching the area between her index finger and thumb with her other hand. It looked painful.

“My humanity,” Silence. Her jaw clenched and her bottom lip trembled for a brief second, not out of sadness but anger, “she took everything from me” she sneered. 

“Mother Miranda only does what is best for us,” Angela wanted to interrupt her before she even had the chance to finish her sentence, but thought better of it. She pinched her hand harder. Alcina noticed. 

“Do not say that. It might be what you tell yourself, but do not say it to me. Please.” Her face twisted in both anger and frustration. She was trying her damnedest not to snap at the Countess. 

“The world could fit in your hands now. Seeing that as a curse and not a blessing is completely unfathomable,” Alcina coldly said. It was almost as if she was daring the shorter woman to test her patience once more. 

 “To you,”

 “To me, and everyone else,” 

Angela knew she could not make the other woman listen. Alcina had everything she had ever wanted - her transformation opened doors for her that would otherwise remain closed. Angela could understand that and was glad that the Lady of the House belonged to no one but herself. Still, that’s not how she saw it. Angela was taken, against her will, and experimented on by a woman whose only goal was to take what made Angela herself, turning her into one those.... things. And for what? What purpose did that serve her? They were all failed experiments. The rejects wrapped around her finger, some more than others. It was hell. How could Alcina not see that?

The point was, Alcina would never understand what she felt. Angela didn’t even fully understand it herself, to be quite honest. All she knew was she was not living. She wouldn’t wish what she was going through on her worst enemy. 

Knowing that debating the Countess was a pointless resistance for her, she simply turned to walk away, wanting to put some distance between them. She was so incredibly tired...

... and she would have left, if the other woman hadn’t grabbed her wrist with inhuman speed. Being forced to turn her entire body and face the Countess, she tried to pull her wrist back, which she failed to do. Alcina was unsurprisingly strong and her grip unrelenting. The amount of force she used caused Angela to stumble forward a bit and into her - they were practically breathing the same air now, though the shorter woman had to crane her head upwards to actually lock eyes with the Countess. Her height allowed her to be at eye level with Alcina’s collarbone, but no more than that. It didn’t bother her too much.... no reason behind it.

“Do not turn your back on me,” the Countess warned, a scowl painting her face. 

Even in this moment she looked absolutely magnificent, making Angela’s heart squeeze almost painfully in her chest for the first time in years. It dawned on her then, that the Countess was out of her normal attire - she wore a silken nightgown, much like her own, only hers actually fit her, and a sheer, black robe with a floral pattern; her hat was also missing. Closing her eyes to keep her gaze from wandering lower, all she could feel was the woman’s cold, yet impossibly soft, hand wrapped around her wrist. 

She knew the tips of her ears would’ve turned pink by now, if they could. Thinking about it only made it worse. Her chest was heaving, her heart hammering in her chest, and their breaths mingled. Angela gulped slightly before opening her eyes again. She desperately wished to caress the other woman’s face, right about now - the light provided by the moon highlighted her features in the most beautiful of ways. She was utterly and completely under the Countess’s spell. 

Alcina was still holding on to her wrist and using the same amount of force. Angela’s hand was trapped in between their bodies, if the Countess were to let go of her.... Well. 

There was a scowl on her face no longer and she seemed to be struggling to keep her facial expressions under control. Her eyes dropped to Angela’s, now parted, lips, particularly on her scar, causing her own lips to twitch. The brunette noticed and was overtook by longing almost immediately. She needed to get away from the other woman, though she didn’t know how and every second that went by made it harder for her to tell Alcina to unhand her. Maybe she didn’t need to get away. Maybe what she needed was to draw even closer. 

She could smell something floral - the other woman’s perfume? Maybe to honor the crest of House Dimitrescu? She could smell the Countess’s perfume, so, yes, they were that close. 

Choosing to blame it on how intoxicating the woman’s scent was, Angela’s right hand, the one that was free, slowly moved upwards and towards the taller woman’s face, her fingers ghosting over it, not daring to touch just yet. She was silently asking for the Countess’s consent - she knew she should’ve verbalised it, but all her senses were malfunctioning. All she could see was her. All she knew was Her. 

Alcina did not object, though her jaw clenched for a brief second. Angela suspected it was not due to anger, so she took it as her confirmation.

Initially, her touch resembled that of a feather - she feared that if she moved too quickly she would lose the woman just as fast. So far, so good. She ran the pads of her index and middle fingers over the Countess’s cheekbones, her eyes tracing the movement. Then, she ran the tips of her fingers over her nose, her brow; memorising every feature. Her pupils dilated when she traced them over the woman’s lips, which were now bare and without any lipstick. She wondered if she was taking more than she should, but her worries floated away when she heard the taller woman’s breath quicken before she was able to control it once more. 

Feeling emboldened, Angela cupped the right side of her face. Alcina was no longer forcefully grabbing her wrist, but gently holding it. The brunette’s hand then fell to the right side of her neck, sliding down to settle on the top of her breast and near her heart. 

And there they stayed for awhile. The moon their only witness. If this was a dream, Angela would kill whoever dared to wake her up. It didn’t seem like a dream, though, because what the other woman said next was vocalised much too clearly.

“You have haunted me for years,” she professed, her brow furrowed - she was clearly struggling to come to terms with whatever it was that she was currently feeling. Angela didn’t blame her. 

“Good,” it was said absentmindedly, though there was honesty behind it. 

Alcina’s chin turned upwards. She seemed... determined, maybe? Or was it something else? Angela was distracted. 

Oh, it was definitely determination, for the Countess’s hand, the one that was holding Angela’s wrist, snaked around the shorter woman’s neck and pulled her towards her for their lips to meet. 

Angela’s eyes all but bulged out of her head at first, but she quickly regained her senses. She was not a shy lover and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about this specific moment several times throughout the years - she was not going to blow it now. Grabbing a fistful of Alcina’s robe and nightgown, she parted her lips, allowing the other woman to deepen the kiss further. They fit together perfectly - it was as if Angela had finally found the missing piece to her jigsaw puzzle. They had finally come full circle. This is what they should’ve done the first time they met. They both knew this. This was a second chance they were not going to miss. 

Turns out the Countess was an excellent kisser, not that it was of any surprise. She did have centuries to practice, after all, but it still made Angela’s heart flutter in her chest, the feeling settling on the pit of her stomach. Damn, that woman. The shorter woman inhaled through her nose sharply when Alcina’s hand, the one that was previously resting on her neck, moved upwards to grab a fistful of her hair - angling her head just so. Angela was more than happy to comply. 

Suddenly, Alcina broke their kiss, her lips now pink, causing Angela to lick her own in anticipation. She wanted nothing more than to hear her name leave those lips. Would the Countess even allow herself to do such a thing? Her thoughts were interrupted when the taller woman wordlessly began freeing her hair from the bun it was in. Her eyes burned with lust, but her movements were slow and gentle - they told a different story. 

When her hair cascaded down, Alcina’s lips upturned, making Angela’s twist into a smile. They gazed into each other’s eyes then. Alcina’s, in particular, revealing too much. They both knew this. It was too soon. 

The tender moment was broken when the black haired woman took notice of how Angela’s nightgown, which was hers - the thought sending a wave of possessiveness through her chest - was beginning to slip off her shoulders. Something dawned on her face then, and she used her left hand to pull one of the sleeves down, fully exposing Angela’s shoulder to the night air. She shivered, which did not go unnoticed by the other woman - her nipples were practically tearing holes through the soft fabric of the nightgown. The Countess locked eyes with her then, and what she saw only confirmed what was about to happen. 

Angela’s eyes wordlessly told her ‘Consume me’. And so she did.  

———

It seemed that it was possible for Angela to sleep without being plagued by nightmares, after all. Maybe it was due to how exhausted she was. She chose not to overthink it, now was not the time.

“What’s that,” Heisenberg said, flatly, looking to start another argument for the third time that morning. It seemed that not even during breakfast did the man mind his business. It didn’t help how he was sitting directly in front of her, either. Why had Alcina arranged the seats like that? 

Angela’s expression seemed to speak for her, because the man felt like he had to explain what he had meant by his question, “That,” he pointed with his fork, “on your neck,”. Ah. Well. 

She can’t talk about how the Head of House Dimitrescu picked her up effortlessly, placed her on top of her grand piano and... pushed her over the edge. Several times. She most definitely cannot talk about how, even after not allowing Angela to catch her breath, the Countess picked her up bridal style - the brunette’s legs shaking too much for her to walk - and took her to her chambers to make the shorter woman sing her name again. Over and over again. She certainly will not mention how the woman branded her with her mouth, though never actually biting into the soft flesh, as she allowed Angela to come down from the heights, her fingers still inside her as she did it. No. She couldn’t say any of that. 

The woman looked down at her plate to keep her composure before meeting the man’s prying gaze again, “I woke up with it,” she paused to chew her food, not daring to look at anyone else. Alcina was on her left - she could tell she was watching her - and her girls were on her right - also watching her, “Maybe I have began decomposing faster than expected,”. She heard one of the daughters snicker before being forced to keep it down after being kicked  under the table - by Bela, she was guessing.

The reply didn’t seem to satisfy Heisenberg, but he choose not to pry, for he sensed that the truth would probably end up disgusting him. 

Angela gave Alcina a sidelong glance then, noticing the way she was hiding how the edge of her lips were turning upwards behind her glass.

 ......

  In another life, indeed.

[kpop---scenarios]

Sugar Daddy (1)

Pairing: Johnny Seo x Reader

Warnings: None yet..

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Let me know if you wanna be tagged!!

"I don't know about this." You say to Hwasa, tugging on her arm as she tries to walk into the club. 

Your dress is tight, and you feel overly uncomfortable in something so revealing and your heels, especially since you are not small. You are a bigger girl, with a stomach, thick thighs and curves. You have rolls when you sit down, and stretch marks radiating up your sides. You're not like the kind of girls who go to these clubs and it was severely affecting your confidence. 

"Ayn." She smiles. "I promise it'll all be okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." 

With a sigh you nod your head and Hwasa takes your hand leading you inside the club. The music was loud, you could feel the bass thumping on your feet as you walked towards the bar. Your eyes wandered as you were being led by Hwasa. Rich looking men in suits that had become untucked, their sleeves rolled up and collars loosened. They made sure to show off their watches, flashing the expensive ones, not a care in the world here. Most of the men were surrounded by women, some looking quite cozy, but some looking rather uninterested in what their company had to say. 

As you sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of wine, your eyes continued to wander, especially over to a group of men who were by themselves. 

"Those guys rarely find anyone here." Hwasa says, leaning over to whisper in your ear. "They are a few of the most wealthy men and their tastes are very particular." She finishes, sitting back up to take a sip of her wine. 

Not even five minutes later a man approaches Hwasa, asking her if she wants to dance. She looks at you, making you roll your eyes. "Go." You laugh. 

"Are you sure?" She asks. 

"Get out of here, I'm fine." You assure her. 

She takes the man's hand, and heads out to the dance floor. You watch her as she laughs, her head thrown back, the man's eyes watching her intently and in awe. You can already tell he's smitten with her, and they just met. 

You turn back around, and take another sip of your drink, when you feel a warm presence behind you, someone pressing himself against you. You turn around slightly, and see a man with a smirk on his face. He backs up, looking at you and then down to his crotch which very clearly proved he had an election. 

"Want to take care of this for me?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. 

"No." You flat out say, going to turn yourself back around, when he grabs onto your arm, his grip tight as he squeezes your wrist. 

"C'mon sweetheart, don't be like that." He grunts, his eyes wide, motioning down to his crotch. 

"I said no." You yell, trying to shake him off your arm but he tightens his grip. 

You can see his face begin to go red as he begins to get angry at your refusal. You try to fight him off more but he won't let go. He raises his other hand as if he was going to slap you. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact but it never came, and suddenly your arm was free. You open one eye and see the man on the floor, with another man shaking his fist. 

"She said no, fucking respect that." The man yells, giving the man on the ground a swift kick to the ribs. 

"Are you okay?" He asks. 

"Um, yeah.. I'm fine. Thank you." You whisper. You go to turn back around, wanting to leave this place and never let Hwasa convince you to do anything ever again. 

"Would you like to join me at my table?" He asks, causing you to spin back around, mid sip of your cocktail. You try to swallow but slight choke as you nod your head yes  "Sure. I would love to." You sputter, trying to wipe the remnants of your drink from your chin. 

You grab your drinj and follow the man to a table, the table that Hwasa had said before was very particular. 

"Chanyeol this is.." he pauses, motioning to you to speak. 

"Ayn. L/N Ayn." You say with a smile. 

"I'm Park Chanyeol." He smiles, gently shaking your hand.

"And I'm Johnny Seo," He smiles. He eyes trail down your body before going back up to make eye contact.  

"Nice to meet you both." You smile, sitting down on the edge of the couch. Your eyes dart from Johnny to Chanyeol then back to Johnny, but his eyes haven't left you for a moment. You nervously take a sip of your drinj before turning your head and really look at him. 

Fuck, he's absolutely beautiful. His combed brown hair perfectly frames his face, his smile radiates through the entire club, and from what you can see from under his dress shirt, he had a nice body. As much as you tried to ignore it, the feeling that you didn't belong radiated through your body, filling your brain up with possible situations or words that could possibly be said to you. And it made you nervous. Johnny leans over, his lips hovering beside your ears. You can feel his hot breath radiating down your neck. "You are beautiful." He whispers. Your face immediately turns red and hot, a blush forming against your will. Before you can respond, Hwasa runs up to you, grabbing your wrist. "Ayn." She panics. "We have to go. Now!" She yells, yanking on your arm to pull you up. 

"Oh." You partially panic. You sort of toss your glass down and stand up, Johnny's eyes on you. "I'm sorry." You say to him before Hwasa pulls you harder. "Thank you." You mouth before turning your head to watch where you're going. 

A few minutes later you and Hwasa are outside and down the street from the club. You both stop, your hands on your hips as you both catch your breath. Running in heels is not an easy task for anyone. 

"What the hell?" You whine. "Did you see that fine ass man in there?" 

Hwasa laughs. "I'm sorry, Ayn. That guy I was dancing with, oh my god. He was fucking weird. Talking about going back to his mom's house, and how we can be loud because she's partially deaf. I needed to get out of there." 

Your mouth hangs open as Hwasa describes the man she had been flirting with. You burst out laughing at her misfortune, the roles finally having reversed on the two of you. 

"Now you know what I go through most of the time." You joke. You both begin walking back towards your apartment, linking arms as you keep a casual pace, talking and laughing, completely forgetting about Johnny, he was something that likely would have never happened for you anyways. He was a dream that would never have come true.  

**

The next day, you went about your day, the thought of Johnny never crossing your mind. You went to your classes, and after that you headed to your part time job at a Taco Truck. It was perfectly located on a very popular beach, and everyday the truck made a killing and you made minimum wage, which is partially why you had shown up at the club last night. You knew it was a club for sugar daddy's to meet potential sugar babies, and you had thought that maybe you'd meet someone to help you out while you got your masters in Child Psychology. But part of you was happy that things ended up the way that they did, you now wouldn't have to suffer any disappointment of him deciding you weren't worth it, and you didn't have to waste his time realizing he should have picked someone else, in the long run it worked out for both parties. 

With a smile you handed the last person their order, not even looking at the person next in line. You held your pencil and the small notepad you kept in front of you as you let out a big yawn. "Excuse me." You said, clearing your throat. "Welcome to Tacos, Tacos, Tacos, what can I get for you today?" You ask.

"Umm, three of your beef Tacos, and a chicken  Taco please." You hear. Your eyes squint as you try to place where you've heard that voice before. You write down the order, continuing to rack your brain on why it sounds so familiar. You look up and are face to face with Park Chanyeol. He smiles at you, recognizing you immediately. 

"Ayn!" He yells, holding his arms up. "You work here?" He asks. 

"Unfortunately." You laugh, scrunching your nose. 

"How much do I owe you?" He asks, grabbing his wallet. 

"$13.5." You announce. Chanyeol hands you a twenty, telling you to keep the change with a wink, which puts a smile on your face. "It'll be out soon." 

As Chanyeol steps away from the truck, he whips out his phone, dialing a number. You can only hear bits and pieces of the conversation, but you do catch the most important part. "She's here." He says. "That taco truck that we're both obsessed with." He laughs. "Yeah that one." You wave to him, hanging his bag out the window to let him know his order was ready. He hangs up his phone, grabbing his food and waving goodbye to you. 

An hour later, you're told you can go home for the day, and honestly you're relieved as fuck. You're tired, your feet hurt and you just want to go to sleep before you head back to campus tomorrow for another full day of classes and then another seven hours at the food truck. 

Wow your life was so exciting. 

** 

The next day you're walking through the psychology building, heading to your next class. You're on your phone texting Hwasa about how dumb your last professor was, when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. 

"You're a tough woman to track down." 

Your head shoots up as you swing your body around. You see Johnny standing there, a smile on his face. Your eyes trail down his body, his suit fitting perfectly to his body, making you want to cry, drool and cream all at the same time. 

"Why are you looking for me?" You ask, tilting your head to the side, making him laugh. 

"You left so quickly the other night. We never got a chance to talk, have a drink or anything." He says, walking closer towards you. 

"What do you want to talk to me about?" You ask. 

"I want you to be my baby." He grins. 

"Your baby?" You stutter. "Why me?" You ask. 

"Why not you?" He rebuttals. 

"Let's talk. Tonight." He says. 

"I work." You tell him. 

"Food truck?" He asks. 

You nod your head. 

"What time are you off? I'll pick you up." 

"9pm." You say. "But you don't.. " you trial off. 

"Perfect. See you then.. " he pauses with a grin. "Baby." 

[mirclealignr]

Movie Scenes | w.m

wanda maximoff x reader

requested by @chaotic-fae-queen for my blurb celebration—i hope you like <33

warnings: none?

word count; 500+

Wanda took a few months to warm up to the new group that had taken her in. She was distrustful and skittish, but also brave and fierce. You took an immediate liking to her and were patient in earning her trust. Once it was gained the two of you were inseparable, slowly learning about the other and only adoring what you found.

Snuggling up to her on the sofa, you watched as she flicked through the channels, uninterested in each programme that came up. To be fair to her, nothing that came up really sparked your interest either. Looking around the room, you saw a case of movies—probably some Tony found lying around in his old apartment and put here.

You tossed the blanket off and shuffled over to the movie case, flicking through the pages of familiar movie covers. Just as you were about to give up (Tony had terrible taste) you landed on your favourite movie of all time. You gasped, remembering watching the scenes in your childhood bedroom more times than you could count. Quickly removing it from the plastic casing, you showed it to Wanda, holding it up so she could see from the couch.

“What’s that?” She asked, shifting slightly.

“Only my favourite movie of all time,” you answered, turning the DVD player on and placing the disc inside.

“What’s it about?”

“I don’t want to give anything away, just trust me, yeah?”

Wanda nodded, settling back down on the couch and watching the screen intently. Throughout the whole movie, you watched her to see if she smiled at the happy parts or frowned at the sad parts. To see what she thought of the characters and whether it seemed like she was actually enjoying it. She didn’t give much away, and never caught you looking, too engrossed in the movie as it played out in front of her. It was adorable, how mesmerised she became by another story.

As the ending credits played and the music sounded through the room, you nudged Wanda out of her trance. She looked over to you and smiled, brushing her hair out of her face.

“What did you think?” you asked hopefully.

“It was okay, could have been better,” she said nonchalantly.

Your face dropped, mouth falling open slightly as you were taken off guard. “What?”

Wanda laughed heartily, hitting your arm as she threw her head back. You let out a sigh of relief, a different feeling of embarrassment taking hold. The first was at the thought that you’d hyped up your favourite film and had let her see a part of you, only for her to laugh at it. But now it was for not realising the joke. You preferred the second, but would have most preferred to not have felt embarrassed at all.

“I’m only joking, I loved it,” she smiled, taking you in her arms.

You groaned into her shoulder, leaving your arms limp at your sides. She laughed more, prompting you to hug her back, but you refused. So instead, she rubbed circles into your back, soothing you.

“Forgive me,” she smiled.

You lifted your head from her shoulder, pecked her on the lips and nodded your head. “Fine,” you conceded, “You’re mean though.”

“A little, but you still love me,” she mused.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right,” you rolled your eyes.

“And I love you.”

[dumbass-mha-simp]

Elliott x GN!Reader

Your New Playlist

Kinda sad? Ig angst but not actually like, bad angst yk.

1k words

Stardew Valley

Warnings: crying, mentally beating yourself over a crush, self-sacrificing but not in a death kinda way, cussing (I think like one f word), Elliott is a theater kid you can't convince me otherwise,

I wanna do a part two, would anyone be interested? I know how much us Elliott simps want fanfiction. I'm probably gonna start on it anyway lol.

Yes I actually made this playlist smh ikik, you don't have to listen to it ofc but his aesthetic really fits my music taste, at least I feel so. I write my fanfiction as gender neutral as I can but if you ever spot any mistakes I'd love to fix it!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elliott's POV

My feet took me across the path leading to Leah's house. The gentle cotton clouds stretching their wisps across the blue sky, bright enough to blind me as though it were the sun that it surrounds. The gentle new Spring breeze froze my cheeks lightly as my eyes closed to avoid the same chill from the past winter.

Fresh Spring flowers and hidden vegetables encircled her yard as I made my way to knock against the dark wood door that always seemed thunderingly loud.

Leah peaked through the window by her door before I can see her face light up and reach for the door.

"Hey, c'mon in!" She opens the door wider to let me pass through. "How are you doing?"

"If I'm honest, a little troubled." I sigh looking forlornly to the floor.

"Come sit." Leah pulls me to her table and sits in the accompanying seat. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"Leah, what does it feel like to you before you admit you fancy someone?" I look up into her listening eyes before her face changes into slight shock.

"Hmmm." She brings her hand up to her chin as she ponders. "Well, you miss being around them when they're gone. You constantly find ways to connect anything back to them, like `oh they'd love this`, or `I should check up on them.` You care about their opinion more than others and you want to learn about them, even if it's the uninteresting things."

I slide my arms down onto the table, placing my head on top of them. That sounded exactly like what's happening. I had read about it a million times, falling gently in love with a close friend. Perhaps that interest to become friends was always attraction.

"I can't get enough of Y/N." I muffled through my folded arms sighing once again as I turned my head to finally look back up at Leah, the light stinging my eyes.

"Well maybe I could help you with getting more of them?" Leah smirked as she grabbed her phone from her pocket.

I lifted my head slightly panicked. "What are you doing?" I rushed out.

"Relax, I'm not telling Y/N. But they shared something with me. They have a wide music taste yes?"

I had heard some of their music. While they made us lunch, while they partake in their hobbies, when they hum near silently late at night on the beach. I nodded back thinking of how they never seemed to be signing along to a song similar to the others. Unpredictable, and absolutely captivating.

"Well one of their tastes in music is very folk-y and they mentioned how those songs reminded them of you. So they made a playlist of songs that remind themselves of you." Leah said looking down and scrolling through her phone.

They made a playlist about me. They actively want to remember and listen to things that remind themselves of me. I feel I might faint. Was this something that was common among friends? Was this nothing more than an act of kindness? Or something they decided to do on a whim?

"Here give me your phone I'll send it to you." She holds her hand out expectantly.

I quickly go to pull out the hardly used device. I had never had much use for it but if it could bring me any step closer to Y/N I wouldn't hesitate to learn.

Leah downloaded a music app, laughing at how I had no applications. Before leaving it opened on the playlist. "The Lonely, Ocean-Accompanied, Writer." It read. I reread it a couple times to convince myself it was real. A lovely name, but is that how they see me?

"Chill out, Romeo." Leah giggled. "I can practically see you overthinking everything. Just relax and listen to the songs, maybe they'll tell you something."

I wrapped my arms around her neck, hugging her closely before leaving to listen to the playlist.

~~~

As I shut the door behind me I pressed my back against it. I've never felt so scattered before. I looked for the volume button, turning it up before hitting play.

The songs, quiet but emotional. As though you had just lie down on the grass to cry or relieve tension or reminisce. They felt like a memory I had trouble recalling.

The songs seemed to renew me, before I heard one I distinctly remembered hearing before. From high-school theater club, a time in my life that was fond to me. I do remember Y/N telling me they loved musicals, hearing them hum along to Heathers while I wrote.

A song unlike most others on this list.

"When He Sees Me" from Waitress.

~~~

Y/N's POV

"Oh, Yoba. What if when he sees me, I like him and he knows it? What if he opens up a door, And I can't close it?" I belted out the lyrics as loud as I wanted, the tears streaming down my face unwavering.

The good side to owning your own farm is you could scream along to your songs without people to complain. You had been replaying this part of the song for awhile now. He was all you could seem to think about.

Your head was swarmed with thoughts of Elliott. Some where he reciprocated your feelings and others where he shut you out. Every time you built a daydream where he loved you unconditionally you trampled it with the thoughts of his rejection.

You brought your knees up to your chest, resting your head between them as you cried.

~~~

Elliott's POV

We had had conversations about musicals, perhaps that's why they chose this song? Maybe they thought since my school had a play of Waitress that it'd fit. But I know they liked other Waitress songs, why weren't those added? Only this one.

After that song came another, "I Hear A Symphony" one I've never heard. As the song started all I could see was Y/N. I could hear them singing along, their smile, their eyes averting to mine for the thousandth time.

Y/N was my symphony.

The powerful, breathtaking ocean couldn't compare to the awkward farmer that ran across town just to give me their best sweet pea flowers and be the first thing I saw as I left my quaint cabin.

They brought the motivation and inspiration for 8 hour writing sessions, they brought me food when they knew I'd forgotten to eat between writing the book and planning on what to write next.

They were something I could never dream of losing. I wished to live the rest of my life with their support.

If telling them my feelings means I'd lose them, then I couldn't dream of making such a selfish decision.

~~~

Y/N's POV

I trudged my way into town. After last night's crying session my eyes still felt a bit dry, if I'm honest I cried when I woke up as well. The loneliness felt suffocating in such a lonely little house. But I needed some new seeds. The stone path drawing all my attention as I walked.

As I walked into Pierre's it wasn't hard to tell that people could see something was off. After buying my seeds I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning around to find Elliott.

"Y/N are you feeling alright? You look as though you've been distressed lately." You motion to him to follow you and walks out of the store behind you.

You take a deep breath as you start to tear up a bit more. He reaches for your face as he lifts it up, looking at the pooling tears.

So many things, the things you could have said. But they didn't come up. Instead a vision of his face of discomfort at your confession. You couldn't bear it. You couldn't tell him.

"I've just been stressed. I'm sorry for worrying you, Elliott." You sigh, attempting to put up a fake smile as you wipe your eyes. He retracts his hand as he looks guilty. Fuck does he feel like it's his fault?

"Well I'm willing to listen to your troubles if you ever need." He also puts on a strained smile as you both part ways.

"This is for the best." They both whisper as they leave.

[seraphdreams]

greengreengreen

warnings : smut, fem!reader, drunk sex, suna being a bit of a jerk at the end, college AU

wc - 2.8k

a/n - this was originally gonna be a football!au but i got lazy and changed it back to volleyball

There’s cheering heard from the end of the hallway in the spacious university. Loud whooping and chants were heard as your classmates ran up to the commotion. You continued walking foreward at your steady pace, avoiding the crowd. “Look! The volleyball team is back!” You hear a student exclaim. You pause in your tracks, throat suddenly dry. You swallow, eyes growing wide as you lock orbs on the tall newbie the volleyball team welcomed. His eyes were like a fox’s, narrow and uninterested.

The way the jersey he has on enunciates his long toned torso, has you in awe. He seemed not to care about the praise and applause he was getting but instead taking out his cloth and wiping his forehead with the towel previously draped around his neck.

Your white haired best friend came up to you from the herd, suddenly looking at you in confusion. waving a hand in front of your face. A trance, is what you’re in. Just a split second of eye contact with what you’d describe as the prettiest man you’ve ever seen had you flustered. His allure was so daunting, leaving you almost speechless.

“Hey, Y/N. Hello? Guess what?” You snap out of your thoughts, looking up at Kita. He was also on the football team. His hair was drenched in sweat and face flushed pink. You cock your head to side, a response to his question. “We won the game, and that new second year is amazing!” He continues. “New second year? The one you were just thinking about? He’s....amazing? Is that why he was getting so much attention?” You think to yourself. Once again you were brought back to reality by Kita, clapping his hand to get your attention.

“Oh! Sorry, i was just wondering, when did he get on the team?” You question, straightening up at the loud clasp of his hands. The team finally got through the hallway, walking past you and Kita. He looks to the side, noticing the slow walking brunette. As soon as the man is in the same radius as Kita, he pulls him by the arm, yanking him into the conversation. He was slightly crouching under the shorter’s grip on his arm.

“He’s been on the team for a few weeks, this is Suna Rintarō. He scored us 12 points at tonight’s game.” Kita announces, Suna straightening up as Kita’s grip loosens. Your heart beats faster, feeling as if it’s going to burst out of your chest. “Hi, i’m Y/N” You say in a soft voice. He raises his eyebrows in affirmation, looking at you deep in your eyes.

Kita observes your body language, the way you held your hands behind your back, squeezed your thighs at the look Rintarō gave you, and licked your lips as you looked up at him with “innocent” eyes. Kita whispers something in his ear, Suna walking away a few seconds later. “It’s kinda late, isn’t it? Want me to walk you to your dorm?” Kita progresses. You nod your head and walk side by side out of the now empty hallway.

“‘Samu, i’m telling you, that’s my shoe!” You hear a loud voice from the outdoor courtyard. You spot Atsumu, obviously fighting with his twin. As you and Kita crept closer on your commute to the dorms, he scolded, “Twins! Cut that out!” Osamu and Atsumu halt then straighten out their clothes, scoffing at one another. “I swear they still act like they’re still in high school” Kita says with a chuckle. Pretty scenery of the campus went by as you and Kita continue to chat on your way to the dorms.

It was your second year of university. Kita’s been your best friend since your first year of highschool when you decided to become the manager of their volleyball team. He was so nice and a great person to talk to about whatever, always listening and giving the best advice. You both grew closer as the years progressed, instantly becoming best friends.

You’re in the same grade as the twins, having been with them since your first year as well. They were your source of entertainment and gossip. That’s why you were a bit confused how they never told you about the rookie. “Looks like we’re here.” You say looking at the room number on your dorm. Warm arms wrap around your shoulders as Kita pulls you in for a sweaty hug, flashing a smile at you before leaving toward his own dorm. “Ugh Shinsuke!” You joke opening the door to your room and carefully stepping in.

_________

After a long shower, you work on your school work, still in a towel. You decided to finish a few math problems, chewing at the end of the pen. There was no need to do work now, it was the Friday and the you could relax all weekend, maybe drink some wine. You check your phone. A message from Osamu catches your eyes.

There’s a house party a few minutes away. Wanna come with me?

A party didn’t seem to bad at the moment, you were already showered and hadn’t gotten dressed, having fun won’t hurt. You text him back a “sure”. You weren’t necessarily a party person, only clinging to the people you knew, but maybe you’d step out of your comfort zone. You search through a mess of clothes piled on your chair, stuffed in your drawer, and under your bed, until you found the perfect outfit. Something short. You put on makeup, spraying loads of setting spray to make sure you don’t sweat it off.

You slipped on your shoes and pranced to the door and down the hallway. You look both ways frantically, waiting to see a familiar face. Finally, you see a silhouette of the twins walking towards you. Atsumu held keys in his hand, jingling at every step he made. Once they were visible and in a close enough distance, Osamu cleared his throat. “We have to wait for someone else.” He stated. “Who?” You ask in curiosity, thinking it could be Kita or Aran.

You hear a door unlock from the back of the hall, the man was walking slowly looking down at his phone.

From where you were standing it looked like he was wearing a black t-shirt and black jeans. “Suna! Hurry the fuck up!” Atsumu yells. He looks up from his phone and slowly jogs up to him. You felt your heart pulsate the same way it did before. “Suna was coming? Why didn’t Osamu tell me?” you ask yourself. Once Suna caught up with the group, you all walked out the dorm hall and down the stairs.

It was a long quiet walk from the courtyard to the student parking lot, Suna being on his phone and the twins not speaking.

Atsumu found his car and unlocked the door, him driving with ‘Samu in the passenger seat and you and Suna in backseats. You strapped yourself in, everyone else following suit. Osamu hooks his phone up to aux cord, playing his playlist.

The rod was about 15 minutes long. ‘Tsumu pulls up to a large house on an almost abandoned street. There were lights flashing, seen from the windows and reflecting outside. You could see people outside with drinks in their hands, laughing at whatever nonsense they were talking about.

You look over at an unamused Suna, still looking down at his phone. “Who’s the designated driver?” Osamu questions. Atsumu raises his eyebrows and turns to his twin, eyes lighting up. “No. I don’t trust you” His twin replies, sitting back in the seat, arms folded. “I promise i’ll stay sober ‘Samu!” He pouts childishly. Osamu scoffs in response unbuckling his seatbelt. The group treads out of the car. You fix your outfit as you close the door to Atsumu’s black 2019 Dodge Charger.

You walk behind the group, keeping your eyesight fixated on the broad back of the brunette in front of you. Atsumu opens the door. You’re greeted with loud music, a blend of different bodies, and on your far right, tall stairs with a few people sitting down at the front. Nobody you knew was there except for the company you came with. You walk to the least crowded place, the drink table. You weren’t really a heavy drinker, but a shot or two wouldn’t hurt in helping you loosen up. The air suddenly smelt of a heavy masculine scent.

“Do you know what you’re drinking?” The deep, quiet voice says. You turn your head, meeting his chest then looking into his eyes. It was Suna. You nod and point to the label written on the bottle, “vodka”. He chuckles, a breathy laugh erupting from his throat. You smile at his expression, a little confused.

“What?”. He sets his drink down on the counter and puts his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels. “You look a little bit lightweight, and there’s a lot of alcohol in your cup.” You scoff, putting the cup to your lips, inhaling the green apple taste, shuddering at the burning sensation that comes afterwards. The boy you thought was quiet wasn’t as quiet as you thought.

You lock your eyes on the snake tattoo that wrapped around his lower neck then disappeared under his shirt. He caught your examining eyes then looked over your head, a hungry Osamu stuffing his face with hors d’oeuvres. “What does that tattoo mean?” You ask. Rintaro inhales, then takes a sip from his drink. “I forgot. I got it when i was really high” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. You look up at his slit-like eyes, they glowed green, obvious evil intent behind them. You look down at the now empty cup in your hands. “Damn, you finished that fast” He says, eyes wide as he peers at the red cup in your hand. He finished the drink in his hand soon after, as to one-up you.

The conversation went on for what felt like hours. You grew more and more intoxicated as the minutes passed. The bass in the music throbbing in your head. Everything that came out of Suna’s mouth sounded slurred. You nodded at every noise you could comprehend. In the blink of an eye, he was no longer in front of you. You felt a large hand wrap around your waist, tugging on the fabric of your shirt. You felt swaying motions behind you.

The heartbeat of the figure prodding aggressively against your head. The music was slower, sensual even. You try to reach for your phone in your bag, haziness fogging over your mind. A hard grip on your arm knocks you out of your daze. You felt hard pulling, trying to look up at who was dragging you up the stairs. To your surprise, it was Rintarō. As you ascend up the stairs, you pass rooms. Suna checks the locks on each of the doors then opens the door of finally unlocked room in the middle of the hall.

The room was dark with only the pale moonlight shining through the window, insinuating the unholy bright green glint in his eyes. He motions for you to lay on the bed. You do as told, not sure why.

He kneels in front of you, wrapping his rough hands around your thighs and spreading them away, face to face with your cunt. He groans at the sight. “Are you a virgin?” He questions, snapping you out of the lust that was growing in your core. You shyly nod your head. “Do you want me to continue?” He solicits, looking up at you. You nod your head slowly.

He wraps his limber fingers around the waistband of your bottoms, pulling them down along with your underwear, a string of slick connecting your garments with your warm body. Another groan slips from his mouth, “So pretty.”

He attaches his lips to your clit, sucking and licking the bud. You arch your back, fisting the sheets beneath you. His gaze into your eyes like needles piercing your skin, sharp. He uses his skilled tongue to lap around your slit, dipping in and out. The cries you let out are loud, causing him to slow down his pace. He removes his lips from your cunt. They were glossed in your slick. He licks his lips then presses a thick finger into your hole. You yelp in surprise, gasping as he brutally finger fucks you. You tangle your hands in his dark brown locks, crying out words like “please” and “fuck”. He slips in another digit in no remorse for your poor tight cunt. The way he curls his fingers inside you while thumbing your clit has you in pure ecstasy.

You hiccup as you feel your orgasm pooling through you. He sucks the creamy liquid you left on his fingers. A vexatious smile on his face as he stands up and towers over your small frame.

“I want you to take all of me.” He demands. You look down at the growing bulge in his jeans the back up at him. You whimper at the sight, scared for your hole. He leans over to meet your eyes. He places sloppy kisses on your lips, using his tongue to part your lips. You scratch at his back as he deepens the kiss by pressing his tongue against yours. You kiss back letting him take control. He runs his lips down your jaw, meeting your neck.

He sinks his sharp canines into your neck harshly sucking on the flesh. He leaves little love bites all the way down to your chest. He stands back and looks at your abused body, proud of the work he’s done. He slides his shirt over his head and tosses it on the floor next to your bottoms. The snake tattoo you previously seen before looks more prominent now, more dangerous. You lean back, spreading your legs wider as he pulls his cock out from his jeans. He strokes a few times before aligning it with your drooling cunt

He slowly glides the tip in, sucking his teeth at the way you clench around the fat head. You wince at the pain. He tries pushing in once again, you getting tighter at each advance. He reaches his hand over to your thigh, rubbing the skin in small circles. “Breathe.” He whispers in spite to soothe you. You deeply inhale then exhale. Suna pushes halfway through, groaning at the feeling. An image of your smile flashes through his mind, the way you made him feel warm. “Hey?” He questions. You look up at him, confused by the childlike grin on his face.

“What’s red and shaped like a bucket?” Rintarō jokes. You shoot him a confused look. “i don’t know.” You say. “A red bucket.” The laugh you let out was quickly cut off by a sharp inhale. He thrusted his full length inside your cunt. “Sorry” He apologizes apathetically. You mewl at his dangerously fast pace inside you. It hurts but the pain was soon overridden by pleasure. He rubs your clit in harsh circles. You slip your hand under your shirt to play with your nipples.

A soft moan escapes from your core. The bliss was immense, leaving you breathless as he continued to bruise your cervix with his terribly accurate thrusts. You couldn’t take too much of it before you felt your core heat up. The pleasure ran through your whole body, attacking all of your nerves. You felt numb, mumbling and babbling unintelligible words.

“Good girl, you take me so well” He praises, pressing down on the bulge visible in your stomach. You moan at his words, trembling from the orgasm that’s about to crash through you. “Su-“ You try to let out. “I’m gonna cum!” You mewl, trying to sound as audible as possible. You wrap your hands around his wrist while arching your back. Hot liquid splashes his lower abdomen, coating his cock with your cream.

“Fuck, you squirted” He gasps, chasing his own high. The overstimulation leaves you tired and unable to respond to his thrusts. His thighs tense as he nears his orgasm. He sprays his warm seed in your cunt, painting the walls white. You both pant as you catch your breaths.

He tucks his cock back into his pants and grabs his shirt on the floor, putting it on. He tosses you your bottoms. “How does it feel to be bred your first time?” He mocks. The green glow in his eyes came back, more vibrant than ever. He leaves the room, leaving you to clean yourself up. You laid in the bed for a while, a text from Osamu waking you up from almost dozing off.

Come outside, we’re leaving

You trot downstairs, collecting your things and meeting the twins at the car. Atsumu looked to be out of it completely, Suna recording and laughing. It seemed like you and Rintarō became strangers again, he didn’t acknowledge you at all. Osamu was driving this time. You opened the door and sat on the seat, seeing Suna glued to his phone once again. There was complete silence the whole ride back, except Atsumu talking to himself.

You leaned your head back on the seat and fell asleep.

[shotokimchi]

Bunny

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader and a pinch of Hawks x Reader

Summary: Dabi goes to a club and a naughty bunny seduces him.

Warnings: Smutt *cough cough*

Alcohol and lust filled his senses, it was all Hawks’ idea to go to a famous bar filled with sexy girls wearing bunny outfits. They entered and quickly found an empty table to sit, then a man with a white dress shirt appeared. “Welcome, who would you like to serve you we have six girls who are available right now, would you like to check the catalog?” Before he could protest Hawks beat him to it “Sure!” Dabi sighed and rolled his eyes, then the waiter handed them a catalog with girls on it, the girls had numbers next to them. “What are these numbers stand for?” Hawks asked the waiter and he pointed to the first girl who had the biggest number “These are the rankings of our waitresses, as you can see Y/n is on the top so she is the most preferred one.” Hawks hummed in content and turned towards his friend “What do you say, which one should we choose?” He clicked his tounge then eyed the h/c haired girl, she was wearing a lingerie set and by the looks of it, it was something expensive. “If she’s number one then we’ll get her.” Dabi’s comment excited the blonde and he nodded towards the waiter. The waiter chuckled “But Y/n is the most expensive waitress, are you sure about this?” Hawks smirked “Yeah, we are getting her.” The waiter nodded and smiled “Ok, she’ll be here when she’s ready.” Then he left.

Y/N POV

“Y/N! Table 6 is waiting for you hurry up!” My boss yelled, after finishing my makeup and eyeing my reflection on the mirror, i took a deep breath and started to whisper encouraging words to myself. Yeah this is my job but meeting new men and satisfying their needs is not an easy thing. *you can do this” “I’m coming!” 

I grabbed a silver tray and placed three cocktails on it, then my eyes landed on table 6, there was a blond guy with a flirtatious expression on his face and beside him sat a guy with scars and beatiful turquoise eyes. At least they dont look old, tonight is my lucky night. After wiping the nervous look and putting a small smile on my face, i started to walk towards them and swayed my hips for their attention. The blonde one noticed me approaching them and whistled. “Damn.” It was a whisper but i managed to hear it. The dark haired one tried to look uninterested but i caught a glimpse of curiosity in his eyes. “I’m Y/n and i’ll be at your service tonight, hope i can entertain you guys~” I winked and sat between them and crossed my legs, the blonde one tensed a little and i giggled. “No need to be so nervous, golden eyes~ Can i have your name?” A small blush covered his cheeks and he smirked “Hawks.” Then i turned towards the dark haired one, after catching my eyes he huffed “The name’s Dabi.” I nodded and handed them the cocktails.

 After chatting with them for a while, they noticed the funny side of you. You had a good sense of humor and listened to their things. Then the club music changed to a suggestive one and you got on the table, their eyes widened a little but they tried their best to stay collected “Ohoho~” Hawks chuckled and you started to sway your hips with the rhythm. They made you learn different kinds of choreographies, being number one needs hard work after all. You grabbed their hands and placed them on your exposed stomach, the lingerie you were wearing was an elegant gray one with shiny diamonds and glitter on it. “Shit” Dabi sighed under his breath and started to explore your body with his hands, he tugged at your bra and your breath hitched in your throat, then an idea popped up in your mind. You slowly got on Dabi’s lap and he placed his hands on your hips, you didn’t want Hawks to be left out so you grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. Your hips started to grind on Dabi’s while your lips were leaving open mouthed kisses on Hawks’ lips “Holy fuck” Hawks groaned and licked your bottom lip, asking for your permission. After opening your mouth for his tounge to enter, both of you started to fight for dominance, his tounge started to explore your mouth. 

Dabi felt a little jelaous while watching you two make out. He caught a glimpse of your exposed neck and a smirk appeared on his face, his tounge licked your pulse and before you could process, his teeth made contact with your smooth skin. “Nghh” Hearing your little whine only turned him on. His pants started to get tighter and tighter for him, he bucked his hips, trying to get some friction. He was certain, he wanted to be the one to fuck you tonight.

You pulled away from Hawks and meet Dabi’s beatiful eyes. The wetness between your legs made your tighs tremble. You were trying to get off while grinding on him. He leaned closer and whispered in your ear “I know you want me to break you, lets go somewhere quiet.” Your heart pounded in your chest and you licked your lips in a seductive way “What about your friend over here~?” His eyes found his blonde friend and he ‘tched’ “I’ll handle him.” Then he grabbed the bottle of alcohol which was standing on the table, he filled Hawks’ glass and handed it to him “Drink.” Hawks looked at him with a confused face but accepted anyways, after a couple of drinks Hawks was a stuttering mess. Dabi looked at his friend’s messed up state and grabbed you by the waist. He pulled you on his lap and pushed his tounge in your mouth with ease, you started to grind you hips with more force and he tugged at your panties “D-Dabi, what about your friend?” He sighed “He passed out and the club lights are pretty dim no one can see us.” Then he started to unbuckle his belt, you got off on his lap and got on your knees. His eyes widened a little but he quickly recoverd and chuckled “Sexy little slut.” You giggled and tugget at his zipper, after freeing his shaft, you started to leave little kisses and kitten licks on his tip, he growled and his fingers found your hair. “Don’t tease me baby girl, be a good little girl and suck.” You clenched your thighs and welcomed him in your hot mouth, the strong sucks pushed him towards the edge and he started to fuck your mouth. “S-shit, get up baby.” You got on his lap and he immediately pushed your panties aside “Sit.” You excitedly sat on his long dick and started to bounce, your fingers found his black locks while he sucked on your neck. “Nghh, Dabi~” His hands grabbed your ass cheeks and his hand landed a harsh slap on the right one, you yelped and tried to muffle your moans “There you go~” both of you lost yourselves in pleasure, he squeezed his eyes shut and quickened the pace. “Dabi, im g-gonna-” You couldnt get to finish and climaxed. His hands started to abuse your cheeks and at that moment you realised that he has a fire quirk, he activated his quirk and landed merciless smacks. “Good girl, good girl~” The overstimulation was too much, your e/c eyes watered. “Dabi!” You let out a loud scream but luckily, the club was shaking with music so the chance of getting caught was pretty low. As an employee you cant have sex with the customers but it didn’t matter, you loved Dabi’s scent, his eyes, his smirk and the way he fit inside of you. “You look sexy~” His voice was filled with lust while he was admiring the hickies on your neck and after a couple of harsh thrusts he came inside of you with a scream “Fuck!” Both of you trembled while embracing each other. His hot seed was making your walls throb with pleasure. He pulled out and sighed with content, then you started to kiss his face. You wanted to savour this moment, you wanted to feel every inch of him. “Dabi~” His breatch hitched and he chuckled “Dont use that tone, you’re gonna give me a boner again.” You giggled and nuzzled your face on his shoulder, he closed his eyes “Don’t wanna leave but i have to.” You pouted and looked at his captivating eyes “Will i see you again?” He squeezed your abused cheeks and kissed your temple “After having a taste of you, i can’t let you go.” Your cheeks got red and the comment made you happy. A sincere smile appeared on your lips and you cupped his face with your hands “Please come again, Dabi.” A small smile crossed his lips and he nodded and sealed the silent promise with a hot, needy kiss.

After dragging Hawks out, Dabi turned and looked at the bar. This night took an unexpected turn but he was content with the result. “Until we meet again.” He said under his breath.

A/N: OOP, feedback and reblogs appreciated

[cotccotc]

┈┈ 𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 *:･ﾟ

✩ ot8 reaction headcannon, 2.5k words (eek sorry)

✩ genre/s: **fluff**, humor, established relationship, ot8 x gender neutral!reader

✩ warning/s: MOBILE TUMBLR HATES ME (some gifs & author’s note might not appear),,,, my terrible sense of humor/commentary, a couple of them are suggestive if you  s q u i n t

✩ a/n: idk if the concept makes any sense but it does in my mind \_( ‘-’ )_/ also seungmin’s part is the exact same kinda similar to a brief scenario in my txt soobin “brightest blue” fic... but it’s fineee. also i’m sorry that some are longer than others! enjoy :))

chan:

chan is definitely extremely interested in the music you listen to.

in fact, sometimes he’d probably insist that you show him your current playlist from start to finish lol.

i can imagine y’all hanging out at the dorms, maybe even mid-cuddle, listening to some of your recent favorites.

but there’s this ONE SONG--

your absolute JAM

you get up from your seat or the bed and start completely jamming out.

he stays where he is so he can watch you have the time of your life.

i guess nobody told him you’re a professional lip syncer… awk...

you grab a hairbrush and hold it up like it’s a microphone.

honestly you’re thriving,,

he’s kinda stunned. not in a bad way, but he’s just so mezmorized by how cute (and maybe a lil sexy) you are when you dance like no one’s watching.

there’s a particularly awesome beat drop toward the end of the song, which leads you to do some equally awesome head banging.

he’s cackling at this point, which drives you to act even sillier.

*ending pose*

once the song ends and you’re trying to catch your breath, he slowly starts clapping for you.

“the song was great, but the performance was even better,” he’d say, coming off a bit sarcastic. but he means well!

you start to get a bit self-conscious and shy as you put yourself together again.

he’ll try to comfort you, standing up to wrap you in a hug.

“don’t be embarrassed!” (cue soft chan),

“baby that was awesome”,

“you should join a rock band!”, etc.

overall, he’d love it when you share your music taste, and this event will probably set off a chain reaction of similar jam sessions in the future.

minho:

ok so we all know minho’s a cat person, blah blah blah...

but what if you got super excited about a really cute dog?

let’s say you’re on a walk at a park, holding hands, and talking.

all of a sudden you see someone walking their dog…

and when i tell you this is the cutest, tiniest dog on the face of the earth,,,

you immediately stop walking and squeeze minho’s hand. you point to the dog and start freaking out because it’s so cute.

he’d say something silly like, “what are you talking about? it looks like a rat.”

you disregard it because you’re just so excited about this puppy!

“can we pet it?” you ask.

“... fine” he replies, smiling at you, despite his attempts to act uninterested.

y’all go over to the woman walking her dog and ask if you can pet the puppy. when she says you can pet him, you immediately sit on the ground, ready to have the best puppy playdate of your life.

minho’s still standing, watching you with loving eyes.

of course, you start talking to the puppy as if he’s a baby. minho laughs, trying to stifle all the uwus emanating from his heart

the puppy climbs onto your lap and licks your face just a little bit.

you look up at minho with wide eyes, saying “awww, isn’t he so cute!”

he’d playfully roll his eyes because why would he cheat on cats like that…

then you tug on his hand, motioning for him to sit with you. he does, reluctantly.

you place the puppy on his lap to see what happens.

the dog loves him! (of course, because what living thing wouldn’t love lee minho?)

the puppy is licking minho all over as he makes faces of disgust and struggles to pull him away.

you laugh out loud, happier than ever at the two very good boys in front of you.

he smiles again, completely endeared with your excitement despite being covered in puppy spit...

so, it doesn’t matter what kinds of animals you two prefer, since you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. (aww)

changbin:

i feel like changbin is the type to not be ashamed of/shy about showing you the songs he’s writing.

...except for right now.

he just got home from the studio, dropping his bag onto a table… but some papers fall out.

you attempt to grab the papers, but changbin stops you and grabs them himself instead with a subtle hint of nervousness.

pretty suspicious if you ask me.

“what’s up?” you ask, a bit confused about what just happened.

he’d try to play it off like nothing suspicious was going on, but you know his poker face.

it’s too cute not to notice.

he likes to play all tough but you (and everyone else tbh) know him better than that.

you go to grab the papers, but he steps away. you try again… and again, and again, and again.

you become increasingly more frustrated and impatient with each attempt, until changbin holds them up high in the air where you can’t reach them. he has a look on his face that says ‘haha! gotcha!’

you’ve never done this much jumping in your life.

but you’re not a quitter.

“okay… i give up,” you say, returning to a stationary position and placing your arms around his neck.

however, just as he lowers his hands to your waist, you snatch the papers!

“AHA!” you exclaim.

all he can say is “damn it!” as you scramble to the couch with the papers in your hand. you sit facing away from him, attempting to speed-read the lyrics sprawled across the pages.

he follows you to the couch, trying to take the papers back from behind.

“binnie, these are so good!!”

“thanks… but were they worth betraying your innocent boyfriend?”

“yes. every word.” you finally hand him back the papers with a smirk.

he’d curse under his breath, ditching the papers in favor of tickling you instead.

what a terrible punishment!

hyunjin:

we all know hyunjin is a drama queen,,

you can be a bit of a dramatic person yourself (who isn’t?).

so when you lose your favorite sweater, you’re immediately going on a wild goose chase around the dorms, because that’s where you had it last.

you’re practically talking to yourself. double checking everywhere you’d been. retracing your steps like a mad person.

you need this sweater!!

you let out a little “urgh!” as you begin getting frustrated.

hyunjin would ask what’s wrong, and when you tell him, he’d GASP.

he’d be like:

“have you checked under the bed?”

“the couch?”

“what about over here?”

“over there?”

this boy will not REST until the sweater is back in your possession, wasting no time in matching your level of concern/dramatics...

… if not exceeding it.

y’all have practically torn the whole room apart at this point.

until finally, you find it in a random drawer (of course smh)

“I FOUND IT!” you’d exclaim, flopping onto the bed and putting the sweater on,

to which you’d receive a “YAY!” in return

tired and leaning against a wall, he’d say something like, “thank GOD! now, why do you need it so bad?”

and you’d simply and softly respond, “... i got chilly~”

he wouldn’t give a verbal response, but his face would go from relaxed to ‘bruh’.

you knew he’d be shocked at your statement, but you choose to tease him instead with a smile.

he would then opt to tackle you in the bed, fumbling with the covers and vowing to make you as warm as humanly possible.

jisung:

jisung definitely loves showing you the music he’s been working on, just like changbin.

except… this time, the lyrics aren’t necessarily what you’re used to hearing.

you can tell jisung’s a bit nervous as he presses play, choosing to keep his eyes on the floor as he nods his head to the rap.

you’re listening intently, as curious and excited as you are every other time…

but then you realize that it’s about you……

the lyrics talk about letting someone into his life and his longing to be even closer to that person than he is now.

therefore,,,,   u w u

you giggle, which prompts him to look up at you almost immediately with anticipation about your reaction.

you decide to wait until the end of the song to react, but you can already feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

the song ends, and you’re sitting in silence alongside jisung. “so… what did you think?”

“well… i think…” you trail off, looking into jisung’s eyes.

with a bit of a squeal you leap up from your seat and essentially attack him.

you straddle his legs (don’t get any *ideas* this is FLUFF for goodness sake) and wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into a big hug.

“i love it, baby. so, so, so, much,” you respond quickly and genuinely.

he laughs, his arms wrapping around you.

he’d probably remark, “you scared me for a second!”

you laugh in response, apologizing for your delayed reaction.

deep down, he’d feel so relieved that you liked the song and its sentiment.

he’d also be so happy to have you, his overexcited sweetheart, in his arms.

however, at the surface, he’d prefer to tease you. “next time, don’t make me wait so long!”

felix:

ok so y’all send memes and tik toks back and forth all day every day. it’s just protocal.

also,,, you could literally be in the same room, and he’d still just start sending you tik toks he’d saved just to send to you and see your reaction.

but there’s this   o n e

you can’t quite explain why but when you watch the tik tok that your boyfriend sent you from across the couch, you laugh harder than you’ve ever laughed before.

whatever humor you may have, this tik tok completely encompasses it in a beautiful, stupid way.

before you know it, you begin cackling.

felix knows that you’ve always been a bit embarrassed of your laugh (who isn’t, right?), so when you start letting loose he’s a bit caught off guard.

still, he joins in (at a smaller scale, of couse).

he always wants to see you happy, but this is a whole new level of cuteness in his eyes.

your laughter subsides a bit...

until you decide to watch the tik tok again.

believe it or not, it’s even funnier the second time!

you double over, laughing so hard that no sound is even coming out of your mouth.

“are you okay?!” he’d ask, laughing harder now at your actions.

he’d put his arms around you so he could hold you up.

you’d mouth out a “no” in response.

there are practically tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

he’d continue looking down at you with a beaming smile, holding you up until your laughter comes to a full stop.

“was it really that funny? i can’t even make you laugh like this.”

you’re almost dazed, your stomach hurting (in the best way possible). you try to steady your breathing.

after a few seconds of recovery, he’d whisper in your ear with a deep, silly voice...

“...wanna watch it again?”

it’s safe to say you won’t fully recover for a while.

seungmin:

on days off, you watch dramas with seungmin to take both of your minds off of work/school/whatever’s been keeping you busy.

however… of course you can’t go a whole episode without laughing hysterically, and it’s all because of seungmin.

it could be the most dramatic, intense, or heartbreaking scene in the show but he would make it into a full blown impersonation comedy routine.

ESPECIALLY if the drama is in a foreign language.

this boy will reinact all of the subs in the stupidest way possible.

but, today he’s a bit exhausted, snuggling up against you and not saying much.

our boys work too hard :((   (but wbk)

...so you decide to take his place.

you start off kind of hesitantly, waiting to see if he’d even react. when the main characters start to have an argument, you begin reading the subtitles in a silly voice.

you hear a soft giggle from your boyfriend has be tightens his arm’s grip around your waist.

you begin to use different voices for each of the two characters, alternating between a nasly, high pitched one and a lower one with voice cracks. this makes seungmin laugh harder, going from a giggle to his usual open-mouthed chuckle.

he’s so cute >_< ,,anyways…

as the scene intensifies, so does the volume of your impersonations.

“yOu’Ve bEtRaYeD mE!”

“BuT yOu LiEd tO mE!”

at this point seungmin is cackling despite his heavy eyes and unwillingness to move. he’d be so caught up in your routine that he’d forget he was even tired.

you look up at him to see that big smile and those sparkly eyes you love so much, which motivates you to be even goofier!

you sit up, leaving seungmin’s grasp. you begin making hand gestures to match your overdramatic tone.

the scene comes to a climax, in which you recite the final line with more ferver and fake passion than ever before. you finish it off with a fist in the air for ~emphasis~.

as you hold this pose, you hear your loyal audience member begin to cheer for you. he claps, whisper-shouting “ahh” to create fake crowd noises.

“what a show!” he would commend you with an expression of sarcastic awe on his face.

you’re really glad you decided to cheer him up…

but not nearly as glad as he is to have you with him on a day like this.

jeongin:

jeongin’s smile could literally melt anyone’s heart. everybody knows this.

i don’t care who you are, if you see jeongin smile, you either smile or cry and there are no other options.

i don’t make the rules.

so, when he shows you the ‘lovestay’ version of his latest dance practice, you’re bound to go insane with adoration.

as soon as his solo comes up and the camera zooms in on his sweet, smiling face, you give his cheek a little poke

you say, “that’s you!”

“shut up,” he’d respond, giggling.

“wait, i missed something,” you say with a sense of urgency. you take the phone from his hands, rewinding a few seconds.

he’d roll his eyes at you, getting a bit shy.

you resume the video until the boy in the video holds up a finger heart, at which point you press pause.

“look how cute!” you exclaim, looking up at jeongin and pointing back and forth between him and the screen.

“stop it!” he’s blushing (and you’re screaming internally at how cute he is) as he tries to refrain from making a big smile.

you poke his side, resulting in a small fit of laughter that forces his bright grin to peek out.

he swats your hand away, putting his arm around you

(partly to show his affection and partly to make you hold still)

you place your head onto his shoulder, resuming the video for the final time. “you’re too cute. i can’t help it.”

“but you’re the cutest...” he murmurs, almost inaudibly to someone who isn’t as close to him as you are now.

heat rises in your face.

you: “...stop…”

him: “hah!”

touché...

©️ cotccotc 2020 ~ all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[pastelwitchling]

“I didn’t even know this kinda place could exist in this town,” Michael said, looking up at the grand ballroom ceiling, small silver stones embedded into the cream marble walls, the silver railings and ceiling-high windows that led out onto four balconies.

The guests of the ballroom, all in suits and floor-length dresses, chatted with their small groups, a glass of wine or champagne in their hands. But there was one particular guest Michael and his friends were most interested in; Bo Swindell. Or, as Alex had uncovered him to be last week, a Project Shepherd agent who they suspected ran another Caulfield facility just outside of Roswell.

Isobel scoffed, brushing something off her white sleeve, her pantsuit immaculate and making her stand out like a diamond amongst the hoards.

“Just because some people don’t mind having their dinner on hay-covered grounds doesn’t mean everyone else is inclined to follow their example,” she said. “Soak it in, Michael. Smell that Cartier and Armani?”

“It’s suffocating.”

“It’s taste.”

“Leave him alone,” Liz said, amused. Unlike Isobel, she didn’t seem to realize the effect she had in her long black dress. She patted his shoulder proudly. “Mikey actually dressed up for this!”

“Ugh,” Isobel said with a roll of her eyes. But Michael was inclined to agree with Liz.

His dark jacket thrown over the nicest shirt he had and dark jeans were about as prim and proper as he was going to get.

“It’s cowboy elegant,” Alex assured her from where he stood against the wall, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

It wasn’t working. Even hiding among the champagne glasses, Alex attracted the raised brow or the interested smirk or the blatant mental undressing from every other guest that passed them by. It annoyed Michael, but he couldn’t blame them.

The last time he’d seen Alex in a suit was at Noah’s funeral, and he’d been sufficiently drunk and pissed off enough then to push past the sheer want and settle on the fury. Alex had been everything he’d wanted and was another reminder of something else he was no longer allowed to have. So he’d made the perfect target for Michael’s anger.

Now, as Alex stood there looking like a dream in his deep gray blazer and slightly tousled hair from having run an anxious hand through it, he was still someone Michael couldn’t have, but Forrest was away at a conference and it made things . . . different. Alex’s boyfriend wasn’t here, and Michael was, and to stand so close to him without the reminder that he was taken shoved down his throat, Michael couldn’t help but shift on the marble tiles, scooting closer to him.

Alex glanced at him, and said nothing.

Because it doesn’t make a difference to him how you feel, a voice in his head taunted. He has a boyfriend now. You’ve missed your chance.

Michael silenced it, moving closer to Alex against the wall. It helped him breathe better.

“Is everyone ready for what comes next?” Max asked under his breath, plastering on a polite smile to another couple as they passed.

Alex straightened up off the wall with a sigh. He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “Should be fun.”

Michael’s blood boiled at the thought of what his airman was about to do. Bo Swindell had been a veteran, according to Alex’s research, but had been notorious for disobeying orders, risking the lives of his teammates by deviating from strategy on the battlefield, and being caught with his briefs around his ankles with more than a few men in the base storage closet. Needless to say, Swindell had been officially dishonorably discharged.

“My dad must’ve hated everything about him,” Alex had said with disgust as he’d read the file. “But he was useful and willing to do anything for money. That must’ve been good enough to take him on.”

“Well,” Max had said at the time, crossing his arms, “how do we get close to somebody like that?”

Alex had sighed grimly, like he’d decided on a plan the second he’d opened the file. “If he has a thing for male soldiers . . .”

Michael had hated the idea, had objected to it at once, but it was a matter of reason and logic. Alex was the handsomest soldier there was (Michael was not being subjective; Alex’s good looks were a conclusive fact), and if this guy would take an interest in anyone, it would be him.

“You don’t have to do this, Alex,” Michael insisted anyway, holding Alex’s gaze. “You can still back out.”

               Alex looked away. “I can handle it, Guerin. I’m tougher than you think I am.”

               Michael frowned. “I – Alex, that’s not what I –”

               “Come on, Is,” Alex offered Isobel his hand once the quartet started. Not looking any more eager at the idea, Isobel put her hand in Alex’s with an apologetic look at Michael.

               As they walked off, Liz put a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

               “He’ll be fine,” she said, though her worried eyes followed Alex. “He’s done worse.”

               Michael saw Bo’s eyes catch Alex’s figure as he passed and linger on him. He clenched his jaw. “Has he?”

               The music started in earnest and Michael stood to the side as Liz took Max’s elbow and he led her out onto the dance floor. As couples twirled around each other, Michael kept to the wall, glaring as Swindell’s eyes kept flitting to Alex, clearly uninterested in whatever the woman in front of him was discussing.

               Soon enough, he would be excusing himself and approach Alex. He would smile in that hungry, vicious way he was now, and he would . . . well, the thought of what he might do had Michael’s power rising to the surface. The champagne glasses quivered on the table beside him before Michael managed to forcefully shove his anger down.

               He turned away, grabbing a glass and downing it in one gulp, hoping it would be enough to calm his thoughts. It wasn’t. Alex looked too good, his shoulders too straight and tense, his smile at Isobel small, as if he was forcing himself not to be sick with what was to come. He didn’t want to do this, Michael could tell, but he’d convinced himself he had to. He’d convinced them all he had to.

               Michael considered him, a very bad idea forming in his head. Did that deter him? After downing a second glass of champagne, no, it didn’t.

               He weaved through the other guests, his intention making his steps light and quick, and he came up behind Alex. He exhaled sharply, forcing his nerves out in one breath, and tapped the airman’s shoulder.

               Alex turned, the tension in his shoulders fading ever so slightly at the sight of Michael. He glanced at Swindell who was still watching them.

               Michael held out a hand. “May I have this dance?”

               Alex looked back at Isobel whose eyes were narrowed at Michael, as if trying to read his thoughts.

               “Uh –” Alex said, “Guerin –”

               “Might as well let everyone know what you’re into,” Michael cut him off, his heart climbing into his throat the longer he stood there. His smirk faltered with every second he went unanswered.

               Isobel bit her lower lip. “Might be a good idea, Alex,” she said, nudging Alex’s back slightly. She smiled discreetly at Michael before walking away and disappearing into the crowd, leaving them both standing there awkwardly.

               His cheeks red and his eyes wandering, like they did when he was the center of attention and hating it, Alex took Michael’s hand. He looked down as Michael pulled him in.

               “What’re you doing?” Alex muttered, unwilling to meet his gaze.

               “Dancing with you,” Michael said, and proved his point by wrapping an arm around Alex’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Alex gasped and looked up, startled. Once Michael caught his eyes, the rest of the ballroom vanished, and neither of them could look anywhere else.

               Michael stretched his fingers out against Alex’s back, imagining the warm, naked skin beneath the soft fabric. Alex’s hand tightened in his as Michael rested their foreheads together.

               “I miss you,” he breathed before he could help it, and unable to regret the words.

               “You can’t say that,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning Michael’s lips.

               Michael leaned in, his lips brushing Alex’s cheek. “But you like it, don’t you?”

               Alex didn’t move away as he stammered, “Y-You shouldn’t be here, I need to – to find . . .”

               Michael brought his other arm down to hug Alex’s waist, keeping them as close as possible as they swayed on the spot. Alex’s hand came up his arm and settled on his other shoulder, and Michael felt the tension in his body fade away almost completely as he was engulfed in Alex’s warmth, his voice, his intoxicating vanilla scent.

               “Hmm?”

               “Uh . . .” Alex’s brows furrowed, frustrated, even as his eyes fell to Michael’s lips. “I . . . need to . . . find . . .”

               Michael smiled lazily. So this was the effect he had on the brilliant military captain. The effect he still had.

               Alex shut his eyes tight. “Guerin, we’re on a mission here.”

               Michael’s smile fell away. He swallowed. “I can’t stomach the idea of that asshole coming near you, Alex,” he confessed quietly, and Alex met his eyes. “If he touches you –”

               “He won’t,” Alex assured him. “I just need to get close enough to plant the listening device. And then we’re done.”

               “Yeah?” Michael asked, and raised one hand to cup Alex’s jaw. He didn’t know if it was because he could feel Alex’s heart race against his own chest, or the champagne he’d had, or because Alex was looking at him with those beautiful dark eyes like he wasn’t dating someone else, like Michael had never betrayed him, like they’d always been together, but Michael felt the truth pour out of him, unable and unwilling to stop it.

               “And after that?” he said, his thumb brushing Alex’s cheek. “What happens? You go back to Forrest?”

               Alex clenched his jaw and looked away. “He’s my boyfriend, Guerin.”

               Michael hated that word. He hated that it wasn’t about him. He lifted Alex’s chin with his fingers, meeting his eyes. His open mouth hovered over Alex’s lips. “I don’t care,” he breathed.

               Alex’s hands curled to fists against his chest. “You can’t keep doing this.”

               “Doing what?” he whispered, and reveled in the flutter of Alex’s eyes, in the way his body instinctively curled against Michael’s. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

               Michael traced Alex’s jaw with his fingers, his heart hammering. He imagined following the trail with his tongue, the slight roughness of Alex’s stubble against his lips as his other hand ran up and down the airman’s spine.

               “You like it when I touch you?” he said into Alex’s ear. “Like it better than anybody else’s hands?”

               Alex bit his lower lip as Michael moved closer, his mouth open and more than willing. It’s the champagne, Michael told himself, and knew he was a liar with every word. It was Alex, his touch, his body, his beauty, his scent. Michael didn’t want anyone to come near him without knowing that he was under his protection, that someone fiercely loved him and wouldn’t let him go.

               Michael’s fingers came down Alex’s neck, down the soft pulse of his heavy breaths. His chest rose and fell against Michael’s, his eyes hooded and dazed.

               If Michael ever wanted to kiss him again, it would have to be now. And he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to pull him into the fancy bathrooms, slip a hand under his shirt, taste his lips, his tongue, his chest, stomach, the space between his legs. He wanted to whisper his worship into the airman’s damp skin, hear his breathy moans in his ear, his pleas. He wanted to feel Alex’s hand in his curls, tugging at the roots, his other on Michael’s hip, pulling him in deeper, deeper, deeper –

               “Stop,” Alex breathed, his forehead falling from Michael’s and onto his shoulder, his hands gripping Michael’s arms painfully tight, waking him from his thoughts. “Stop, stop, stop.”

               The two panted against each other silently, no longer moving to the music as couples twirled around them. Michael gripped Alex’s waist tightly, keeping him close as he came back to his surroundings, his face heated and his heart thudding painfully against his ribs. He realized he was hard.

               “I – I –” he stammered, moving back, but Alex stayed pressed against him.

               “Don’t,” he warned quietly. “It’ll show, just – don’t move.”

               So Michael stayed still, keeping his hold on Alex as he forced his breaths deeper. Images of himself and Alex in the bathroom, on Alex’s living room couch, or in Michael’s bed – they kept coming back, each more vivid than the last, each forcing Michael to push them back again and replace them with something less enticing.

               The champagne was beginning to wear off quickly, and Michael had only enough time to press his nose to Alex’s shoulder and inhale the clean smell of his suit before embarrassment took over and he had to look anywhere else.

               “I’m – uh –”

               “Don’t,” Alex said and held him tighter, more desperately, and Michael had to remember that it was for discretion and nothing more.

               When Michael’s hard-on faded, Alex pull back, his eyes on Michael’s chest instead of his eyes. Michael tried not to feel like an idiot, but he’d gotten hard in the middle of a ballroom while he held his ex who was already dating someone else, and it was a little difficult.

               Then Alex said –

               “I want to kiss you.” Michael looked to him with wide eyes, and was met with Alex’s dark, piercing gaze. He bit his lower lip, pained as he ran a hand through Michael’s curls in a way that made Michael’s toes curl and his heart stutter. “So badly.”

               Michael leaned in, entranced, eager. “Y-Yeah?”

               Alex visibly swallowed. “So I guess we’re both the bad guy.”

               Michael faltered. Alex had put himself down for being a monster so many times. And every time, Michael had kept silent because he didn’t think any contradiction or praise he had would be taken seriously or with any gratitude. This, he thought, was one time too many.

               He leaned in, his lips brushing Alex’s ear. “Not you, Private,” he whispered. “Not like this.”

               He pulled back enough to look him in the eyes, Alex’s brows pinched, confused. Michael cupped his jaw.

               “But if you’re still dating Forrest tomorrow,” he growled, and brushed his thumb against Alex’s lips, “I will be the bad guy.”

               He let Alex go, charged and wanting, and walked back to the drinks table where Isobel stood with a glass of her own. She raised a knowing brow at him as he leaned against the wall, his hands clenched in his pockets, his eyes on Alex.

               “Whatever you did,” Isobel muttered over her drink, “it worked.”

               Michael watched with barely contained rage as Swindell seized his chance and made his way to Alex before anybody else could. Alex seemed to come back to himself as Swindell made his introduction. His shoulders straightened and he plastered on a smile that might’ve looked real to anyone who didn’t know him.

               Michael hummed. Isobel nudged his arm with hers.

               “So,” she said, “you let him go a lot more easily than I thought you would.”

               He scoffed bitterly, counting down the seconds as Alex played out his part with all the precision and calculation of the hacker he was.

               “I’m coming back for him,” he said, a promise to himself as Alex’s dark eyes glanced at him. “No one is taking him away from me again.”

***

Just a small, fun fic based on the recent jeanine and malex photo 💕

I made a twitter and IG, by the way, if anyone’s interested in following ❤