#she wears suits with skirts and wraps her hair

[squirmydonnie]

I may be a bit gullible probably. But I can't help it.

Even if someone doesn't sound genuine I'll still answer anyway.

This guy sitting next to me asked me to fix his pen.

He's bothered me before.

But I still answered anyway. I don't know how to stand up for myself.

Instead of saying no I said " I don't even know what wrong with it". Because I genuinely want to understand what the point of this conversation is.

And he says.

JUST FIX IT!

?????

What.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ oh captain, my captain ] q. hughes

day 2 of kinktober (captain kink w/ quinn hughes)

➾ paring : Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

➾ summary : Quinn’s girlfriend calls him "Cap" after hearing the nickname come from his teammates, and Quinn reacts totally normally

➾ warning(s) : smut !! captain kink, light dom!quinn, nicknames during sex, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), very slight hair pulling (blink and you'll miss it)

➾ author’s note : i am Not gonna lie … this has been living in a word doc unfilnished for months so i thought that this would be the perfect time to finish it and let it out to see the light of day. enjoy :)))

kinktober schedule

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When her boyfriend asked her a few weeks ago to accompany him to an event that the Canucks were holding, she was not looking forward to it at all. It's a very private event that the Canucks hold at the start of every season for new Canucks to get to know their new teammates and for returning Canucks to catch up. She's managed to be busy on this day for the past two years of their relationship so she didn't have to go, but she can't dodge the event any longer. Especially now that Quinn is captain.

The dress she bought for this event is stunning and she couldn't wait to wear it to the event. It's a sparkly navy blue number that hugs her curves. The thin straps hold up a plunging v-neckline that shows off her cleavage in a way that Quinn loves. There's a high slit in the skirt that goes about halfway up her thigh.

She feels like she could've dressed a little more modestly when she walks into the ballroom and finds that a lot of the women dressed in more high cut and full length gowns. She crosses her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover her exposed cleavage.

A couple of Quinn's teammates greet their captain as soon as the two of them walk into the large room decorated in blue, green, and white. She hears the nickname "Cap" thrown around as a few of the veteran Canucks greet him. That's a new nickname that catches her attention immediately.

The significant others of the teammates that greet Quinn greet her. She does her best to hold a conversation with the group of women but her eyes continue to shift toward her boyfriend in his suit. He has on one of his game day suits from last season that doesn't really fit him anymore so it hugs his arms and thighs nicely.

"Your dress is beautiful, by the way," Lexie Demko compliments. She turns her attention to Thatcher's wife. "I mean it. It's stunning. I guess it's to be expected for the captain's girlfriend to sparkle." The group of women laugh and she forces a smile.

Sometimes she questions if she should be the one leading this group of women because she's only 23 and still kind of young. It's one thing for Quinn to lead the Canucks because he's a natural leader and knew he was probably going captain this team one day. He's had a lifetime of experience because he's the oldest of three brothers.

She was kind of thrust into the role of lead WAG with his captaincy appointment last season. Her version of being a leader means being the one that plans the parties and plans the playoff attire. Making sure all the other wives and girlfriends are okay, making sure they catch their flights to make it to whatever city they're following their boyfriend or husband to so she can watch him play. It's no NHL team, but it takes up a lot of her time. Especially party and playoff jacket planning.

Quinn looks over at her and her brain immediately goes blank. He's still surrounded by his teammates, but he's looking at her like that. It should be illegal to look like that.

She excuses herself from the group of wives and girlfriends to approach her boyfriend. She tries not to feel tiny among a group of hockey players, but she is.

"Cap," she teases with a smile. "I'm kinda hungry so can we go grab something to eat?" Quinn's cheeks turn bright red at the use of his new nickname. His teammates snicker around him at his reaction.

All he can do is nod in response to her and grab her hand. He guides her away without a single word, but his cheeks remain tomato red.

She's rendered him speechless. All by calling him "Cap." Maybe she'll have to start doing that more often if this is how he reacts.

They grab a plate of food and head to their table. No one else is sitting at the table but she knows that it's her, Quinn, JT, JT's wife, Brock, Thatcher, and Lexie at the table. Their tablemates are still mingling amongst the players and coaches in the room while they sit and eat.

Quinn leans over to her and says softly in her ear, "I'm going to need you to not call me 'Cap' again while we're here."

"Oh," she breathes out. "So your teammates can call you Cap, but I can't?"

He presses his lips in a line and meets her eyes. "It doesn't sound sexy coming out of their mouths like it does yours," he mumbles. "So, please don't call me Cap or Captain while we're here or you'll find yourself on your knees in the bathroom helping me with my little problem."

A small smirk forms on her lips as she takes a bite of pasta. "It's not a 'little' problem, Quinn," she tells him. "It's a pretty big problem."

Quinn groans and rubs his hands over his face. "You're killing me," he groans. "Oh my God."

She giggles and takes another bite of pasta like the conversation isn't ruining the panties she has on under the dress. Quinn follows suit and begins to eat his plate of food.

Their tablemates join them a few minutes later with their own plates. She converses with Lexie and Natalie Miller while their husbands talk with Quinn and Brock. She laughs with them, but the entire time, she thinks about the little conversation she and Quinn had about calling him Cap or Captain.

She's absolutely trying it when they get home to see what kind of reaction she gets out of him when he isn't surrounded by his friends.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

They leave the event once Quinn gives a little speech to hype up his teammates. Tocchet also gives a speech once Quinn was done, but he needed to stay until he was done talking. He orders an Uber back to their Vancouver apartment before Tocchet is even done his speech so they can leave as soon as he's done.

The Canucks applaud their head coach for his speech and they make a break for the door before anyone can stop them. Quinn has her hand in his as they make their way outside. Their Uber is waiting for them when they exit the building.

Quinn slides in first and she follows him. One of her hands rests on his knee and she leans over to say, "You looked good while you were giving your little speech." She pauses for a beat. "Captain Quinn."

His head snaps in her direction. "What did I tell you-"

"Just wanted to see something," she giggles as she glances down at the growing bulge in his already tight pants. "And I see what I wanted to see." Her voice drops a couple of octaves so only he can hear. "Do you like when I call you Captain, Quinn?"

He gnaws on his bottom lip. "You're playing a very dangerous game right now," he warns her. "I'm not trying to ruin these pants."

She leans into him and says against his ear, "Then maybe you shouldn't like to be called 'captain' by your girlfriend." Her lips touch the swell of his ear as she talks. Quinn shivers under her lips before she pulls back to meet his eyes. She finds his usually bright eyes dark with lust.

She's not sure she's going to make it into the apartment if she keeps playing this game with him.

"You are ..." Quinn trails off with a smile and a shake of his head. She grins while he tries to find the words to say. "Something else." His fingers trace the slit in her dress, leaving goosebumps behind where he touches her skin.

The Uber comes to a stop two minutes later. She doesn't risk saying another word until they're in the building. The elevator is probably not the best place to say anything either.

Still, it doesn't stop her from poking the bear though.

"Captain Quinn Hughes," she pretends to think out loud. "Even after a year, it still roles off the tongue. Don't you think, Cap?"

"Oh my fucking God," Quinn groans as he turns to face his girlfriend.

Before she can react, Quinn cups her cheeks and pulls her into a hot kiss. He steps so her back is pressed against the wall of the elevator. She grips his jacket as he presses his chest completely against hers. Quinn shoves a thigh between her legs, moving the dress to the side so his thigh presses against her already damp core.

This is a side of Quinn she's pretty sure she hasn't seen in their two and a half years together. He's very particular about his touches and his movements. Slightly rougher with them as well. She might like this side of Quinn.

The elevator dings once it arrives at their floor. Quinn pulls back and grabs her hand as the doors slide open. "Let's go, pretty girl," he says to her, voice soft. "You need to help me with my not-so-little problem before it ruins these pants."

She giggles as Quinn leads her out of the elevator and down the hall to their apartment. It's a moment before Quinn gets the door open but once he does, he pulls her inside and pins her against the door to shut it.

Quinn holds her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "I hope this dress didn't cost a lot," he says. "Because it might end up torn and on the floor tonight.”

“Quinn Hughes, you better not rip this dress because if you do, you’re buying me a new one,” she warns him. “I mean it too. You better not.”

He grins and hooks his fingers around the spaghetti straps that sits on her shoulders. “I guess I’ll be nice,” he sighs as he pulls the strap off her shoulders. Quinn's eyes fall to the fabric that he pulls down to expose her breasts.

There's about one second between when the fabric pools around her waist and when Quinn crashes his lips to hers in a heated kiss. Their lips mold against each other and his hands cup her breasts. She groans into the kiss and he takes full advantage to explore her mouth with his tongue.

She pulls his suit jacket off his body and it falls to the floor with a light thud. She pushes him toward their bedroom without breaking the kiss.

In the very short trip from their front door to their bedroom, she loses her heels and dress in the hallway while Quinn's tie ends up on the living room floor and his button up gets unbuttoned and untucked as they enter their bedroom. She jumps and wraps her legs around his waist. He kicks the door shut and walks toward their bed.

"What do you want me to do, Cap?" she questions between kisses.

"You know, every time one of my teammates calls me Cap, I'm going to think of you and it's going to end in endless teasing for me," Quinn points out as he sits on the mattress. He pulls back to look at her. "If my teammates mess with me because I get hard after one of them refers to me as Cap, it won't end well for you since it'll be your fault."

She feigns being hurt. "Ouch, Quinn," she says. "I guess I'll never call you Cap ever again."

"I didn't say that," Quinn very quickly replies. "Just letting you know what will happen."

“I’m so scared,” she teases.

“Shut up and get on your knees, pretty girl.”

His stern voice when he says that shoots straight down to her core. She bites her bottom lip as she slides off of Quinn’s lap and to her knees on the carpeted floor below her.

Her fingers work at unbuttoning his dress pants. She pulls them down along with his boxers. His hard dick stands up against his stomach when it’s free from the confines of his underwear. She takes him in her hand and looks up at him. She gnaws on her lip before she says, “Whatever you say, Cap.”

Quinn groans at the same time she wraps her lips around the fiery red tip. She tastes some precome that has leaked as she takes more of his dick in her mouth. His fingers curl in her wavy locks as she hollows her cheeks and sucks. She looks up at him as he throws his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck," Quinn breathes out. The reaction she gets out of him causes her to speed up her actions. Her hands are splayed over his thighs so she has something to hold on to. Not to mention that she just loves his thighs.

She manages to take all of him in her mouth without choking, and Quinn loves every second of it. He gnaws on his bottom lip and soft sounds rise from his throat. It's music to her ears as she takers him completely in her mouth and hums around him.

Quinn can't seem to get enough.

When her knees start screaming at her from being on the carpet for too long, she ignores it. What Quinn wants, Quinn gets. She's done this so many times that the pain doesn't get to her like it used to, but sometimes it .

She hollows out her cheeks and Quinn hums before he pulls her off his dick by her hair. She hums and looks up at her. His thumbs brush her probably swollen lips and she kisses the pads of his thumbs.

"Was that okay?" she questions like she always does after she sucks him off. Quinn raises his eyebrows at her and she grins. "Cap."

He nods and leans down to kiss her. His kiss is softer this time as he helps her back up so she's straddling his thighs. She runs her fingers through his styled hair and Quinn falls so he's lying on his back. His dick pokes her thigh and she wiggles her hips to tease him.

"These need to come off, pretty girl," he mumbles against her lips at the same time he taps the waistband of her panties. "I'm sure they're ruined at this point anyway."

She stands up to push the ruined fabric off her body. Quinn moves back so his head rests on the pillows. She presses her lips together in a line as she crawls back onto the mattress. She straddles his waist and leans over to press a long, deep kiss to his lips. Quinn hums and cups her jaw with his hands so she can't go anywhere.

Without breaking the kiss, she lifts her hips and rests the tip of his dick at her entrance. He slips right in because of how wet she is. A grin forms on her lips as she says, "Wanna ride you, Cap. Please."

"You don't need my permission, pretty girl," Quinn replies between hot kisses.

She hums as she lowers herself onto him. The familiar and welcomed stretch greets her. Quinn's hands land on her waist so she doesn't lose her balance. He bottoms out in her and she allows herself a few seconds to adjust before moving her hips.

The room is quickly filled with her soft moans as she rolls her hips. He helps her keep a steady pace that works for both of them. The kiss breaks but she doesn't go very far. Her forehead rests on his and her lips ghost his every time she moves.

Despite how they got here, she loves when she falls into bed with her boyfriend. No matter the reason, Quinn always focuses on both their pleasure. He makes sure that both of them feel good for however long they go.

Adding a little spice in the bedroom, like this captain thing that Quinn has going on right now, is one of her favorite things too. She's never against trying new things. She's not against this captain thing that he has going on.

Quinn starts moving his hips to match her pace. She groans and pushes herself up so she's sitting on his waist. She keeps her pace though. Her head is thrown back in pleasure and Quinn's hands roam her body.

"Fuck, baby," he breathes out. "You look so good riding my dick, pretty girl."

He moves one of his hands until he's rubbing her clit. She cries out his name and rests her hands on his torso. "Quinn," she gasps. "Oh my God." He stops. "Cap. Captain. Captain Quinn. Don't stop. Please." Those words pass her lips before her brain processes what she wants to say, but her end goal remained the same. Quinn continues rubbing her clit and she hums.

Her movements get frantic and inconsistent as she gets closer to her orgasm. Quinn wraps his arms around her waist and rolls them over so her head is on the pillow. He throws her legs over his shoulders and begins moving his hips.

The new angle has her legs shaking because his dick hits her favorite spot. She grabs his arms and cries out his name. "Oh my- fuck," she gasps. "Quinn, Quinn Quinn. Oh my God." He doesn't stop this time, but he slows down. "Cap, I'm so close. Please."

"Come for me, pretty girl," Quinn pants. "Want you to make a mess on my dick."

It's not very long after that when she comes. Her entire body clenches and she cries out Quinn's name so loud that their neighbors absolutely heard her. Her vision whitens and she's in cloud 9 from how hard she comes.

She's so out of it that she doesn't realize that Quinn pulls out and comes on her thighs. She has no idea that he cleans her up, only that he touches her sensitive core with a wet cloth. Her body melts into the mattress as she recovers.

When she comes to, Quinn is crawling back into bed. She musters up enough strength to turn her head and look at him.

"You okay?" he asks with a smile on his swollen lips. "Lost you for a moment."

She nods and rolls so she's curled up next to Quinn. "You really like when I call you Cap," she teases him. His cheeks turn red. "It's fine, Quinn. You don't need to get all flustered about it. If it's your thing, then it's my thing too. I wouldn't mind doing that again. It showed me a whole new side of you that I think I like."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"Then we might have to do that again," Quinn tells her. "But please. For the love of everything, do not call me Cap or Captain around the team. It's going to take me a second to get over tonight, or get used to those words leaving your mouth."

She giggles and throws her leg over his waist so she's laying on his chest. "You say the word and I'll start using your nickname," she tells him. "Cap."

Quinn rolls his eyes, but she knows he loves it.

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[scarletlizzard]

Only Angel

Music Series

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff × fem!Reader

Tags MDNI: smut, fingering, strap on use (R receiving), choking, praise/degradation, alcohol consumption, cheesy shit

Summary: You and your girlfriend Wanda go to a Halloween party at your friends new apartment and, unbeknownst to the two of you, find out her new roommate just so happens to be a familiar face.

Masterlist

A/N: I took this from a fic I wrote ages ago (that shall not be seeing the light of day) and thought it would fit well with this song!  Wanda and R live on Avengers Campus, Pietro is alive, everyone is happy, etc etc. Pietro and R are good friends and just want to karaoke! Yelena recently moved to town and found a roommate, and this is where R meets said roomie and sees the apartment for the first time.

I tried to edit it a bit, but I didn't delve too far into it! There may be some massive mistakes or inconsistencies, so if there is.... no, there isn't 🫶 As always, any comments are greatly appreciated 😄 Hope y'all enjoy! Happy Friday and Happy Summerween 🎃

****

You: There is no way I can wear this...

Yelena: You're finee! It's only one night! Hurry up!

You sigh at the texts from your friend and let your eyes travel your body through the mirror in front of you. The amount of skin showing had you beginning to feel self-conscious, had you wanting to take it off and stay home, had you wishing you hadn't given in to your friends idea for the costume.

On top of your head sat a feathered white halo, your hair underneath spilling down your shoulders. Your torso wore a white corset that shows a little more cleavage than you're used to, and strapped to your back were small white feathered wings to match the halo. On your legs, you wore a short white skirt that barely made it mid-thigh, and underneath, you had on white tights.

You were in the middle of debating on taking it all off and not going when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Wanda walks in, closing it shut behind her, mouth gaping as she looks at you. The desire burning in her eyes makes your cheeks flush, you bite your lips, and turn to her hesitantly.

"So.. what do you think?" You ask quietly, giving a little spin for her. Wanda still hadn't said a word. Instead, she just stared at you and shook her head. You blush harder, "No?"

"I-I'm sorry I just... wow..." Is all Wanda can say as she licks her lips and walks closer to you, standing directly in front of you. "You looking fucking amazing, Y/N.." She whispers against your lips, her hands finding their way on your body. "God, you look stunning... I'm not so sure you're an angel, though," she teases.

"Of course I am! I'll be an angel, just you wait and see," you giggle with a smile and rest your hands on hers, pecking her lips and turning away from her to grab something. She raises an eyebrow curiously.

When you turn back around, you're holding a headband with devil horns attached, and you place it on Wandas head, fixing her hair around it. She laughs, and you step back to take in her appearance. The devious look in her eyes seemingly matches her costume. She's wearing a red suit with a black blouse underneath, black stilettos on her feet. The suit fits to Wandas body perfectly, and it's your turn to drool at the sight of her. It didn't seem fair how gorgeous Wanda always is.

"Wands.." You start off and step forward, placing a hand on her chest.

"Hm?" She mumbles, staring down at you hungrily. Her emerald eyes darken.

"If we don't leave now, we're never going to make it out of this room," You swallow hard, and she chuckles lowly, wrapping an arm around your waist. Wanda can hear your thoughts loud and clear, and she nods, agreeing. She smirks and gives you a kiss on the cheek.

"After you.." Her voice is low, and she holds her arm out for you to walk in front of her. You take a deep breath and walk out into the hallway, feeling Wandas hand immediately on your lower back.

Seeing Wandas reaction definitely calmed you down. She always made you feel beautiful... part of you was still a little self-conscious, but you try to ignore the little voice nagging in the back of your mind and just enjoy the night. A loud whistle being blown brings you back to reality, and you look up to see Pietro and Natasha standing by the car.

"Holy shit!" Natasha says, watching you walk closer and laughing in disbelief. You blush hard and look up to see Wanda smirking.

"Okay, okay," you roll your eyes, a smile playing on your lips as you look to Pietro. "Nice costume," you eye him up and down playfully.

"I know, I look hot, don't I?" Pietro smirks back and flexes, showing off his muscles. He's wearing a white tanktop with the word 'LIFEGUARD' printed bold across his chest along with red shorts, a red whistle around his neck, and white paint that looks like sunscreen on his nose. Pietro puts on the sunglasses he held and blows the whistle that hangs around his chest again. You can't help but laugh.

"Where's your costume, Nat?" Wanda asks and raises an eyebrow at her. The four of you get into the car. You sit in the backseat with Pietro.

"I'm just the driver tonight.. Maria and I are going to take her nephew out around the neighborhood," she says, and Wanda nods, glancing at you in the mirror.

"That sounds really nice," Wanda smiles at her.

"Hey, do you think she grew those herself?" Pietro whispers to you, pointing to the horns sat atop Wandas head. The two of you burst out into a fit of laughter as you nod along.

"You're going to have your hands full tonight," Natasha smirks at Wanda as she drives and nods to the backseat.

"Yes, I am..." Wanda sighs with a smile and watches as you and Pietro crack jokes, making each other laugh. Her heart warms at the sight.

It's dark outside as Natasha walks the three of you to Yelenas building. People run around in the streets in their costumes, kids laughing and yelling as they drag their guardians from place to place. The streetlights send a warm glow on the streets.

"Alright, here it is," Natasha says after you had entered the building and walked up a few sets of stairs. You hear muffled music and chatter as you look back at Wanda. She gives you a smile and a playful wink before following you and Natasha inside.

The apartment was big and spacious, filled with people in costumes all around. Halloween decorations plastered the walls, and the lights were low, glowsticks and pumpkin lights lighting up the living room where you noticed a makeshift dance floor. You passed a few couples making out as you walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. There was only a handful of people in there, one of them being Yelena.

"Oh my god, finally, you guys made it!" She hugs Natasha, who says goodbye to Yelena, then to you, telling Wanda she would be back to pick them up later or whenever you needed. Pietro wastes no time in grabbing a red cup and filling it with liquor before heading to the living room. You laugh at his enthusiasm and grab Wandas hand, entwining your fingers with hers.

"Yelena, this is crazy! I love the apartment, though... from what I can see anyway," you laugh, and she hands you and Wanda a red cup filled with alcohol.

She nods and sips her own drink, in a tipsy state already. "Mm, thank you! The roommate went to grab some more ice, but she'll be back soon. You guys will love her! She's the best."

Wanda nods and sips her drink, drinking half of it in one gulp. You squeeze her hand once before letting go to grab some of the shot glasses you saw on the counter. After filling them up, the three of you take a shot, feeling yourself become looser. Yelena leans in to you as she sees someone talking to Wanda.

"Y/n, you guys look so good. Seriously, the way Wanda was looking at you? You're welcome," she smirks, not so subtlely, and cheers with you before taking another shot.

You take in Wandas appearance again and sigh, looking back to your friend. "God, thank you so much," you fake a prayer with your hands, getting a loud laugh from Yelena. Then, the two of you are taking another shot. You and Wanda fill your cups and follow Yelena to the crowd of people in the living room.

This was so different from the Stark parties you had been to on campus. For one, the crowd was a lot younger. You started to dance with Yelena, the music was loud and the bodies around you were drunk and sweaty.

Wanda stares at you with dark eyes from the side of the room as your body moves against Yelena. She stood there leaning against the wall, sipping the entirety of her drink as she watched carefully. You and Yelena laughed and spun each other around, jumping up and down and moving freely together. You felt the hour go by.

You had just finished your drink when you felt a pair of hands on your hips. Goosebumps appeared on your arms, and Yelena leaned in to you, "I think I saw my roomie! I'll be right back!" She yells in your ear, and you nod, feeling the hands grip tighter.

The body behind you begins to dance, and you put your hands on top of hers, moving up and down her body to grind against her. You hear Wanda groan, and you grin, turning to face her. Putting your arms around her neck, you pull her closer to you. "Got tired of watching?" You giggle, looking up to meet her hungry eyes.

"Mm, no, never. I could watch you all night, angel," Wanda speaks the last part against your ear. You bite your lip to hold in a moan as she bites your lobe. You lean up and press your lips to hers desperately, feeling her lips curve upwards into the kiss. Her hold is tight on you, and you feel her tongue slip onto your mouth, the strong taste of liquor swirling around. After a few moments, you take her bottom lip between your teeth, pulling away with a 'pop' and receiving another low groan from Wanda.

"I'm thirsty.." You pout, and Wanda chuckles, nodding.

"Dancing for an hour straight will do that to you. Come on, baby," she smiles and takes your hand, guiding you to the kitchen. Your lips were red and puffy, and you couldn't keep your hands off Wanda. You smacked her butt playfully as you walked into the kitchen, the two of you laughing drunkenly.

"Y/n?" You hear a familiar voice say, and you stop abruptly. Wanda wraps her arms around you from behind and kisses your cheek, not being able to resist keeping her hands off of you as well.

"Y/n!" Yelena says and holds up her cup. "This is my roomie, Kate Bishop!" She points to the girl in the all black suit with dark hair who is staring at you with a surprised expression.

Wanda chuckles and tilts her head, grabbing a drink from Yelena as she steps away from you. "Kate Bishop.. why does that name sound familiar?" She turns to you with a smile, but seeing the look on your face makes it quickly fade.

Your face was pale, cheeks red from the alcohol coursing through you as you stand there completely still.

"Wow, um, you look amazing." Kate says, eyes shamelessly taking you in. "It's been a while, though..." She clears her throat and sips her drink awkwardly.

"Oh my god, wait, you two know each other?" Yelena smiles as her and Wanda stare at you.

"Uh, yep..." Is all you can manage to get out, filling a red cup up with the nearest bottle of vodka. Wanda frowns and moves forward to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. "What's wrong, angel?" She whispers in your ear.

"We um.. dated for a while," Kate sighs, hand in her pocket as she sips her drink. You close your eyes and sigh, looking up to see Wandas eyes burn red. It suddenly clicked to her why the name sounded familiar. You had told Wanda previously about your past flings with Kate.

"Kate Bishop..." Wanda mumbles to herself and turns to face the girl.

Yelenas mouth drops. "No fucking way!" She starts to laugh hysterically as she looks between the three of you.

"Yep.." You say again, bringing the cup to your lips to taste the vodka.

"It was a long time ago," Kate shrugs and walks towards the two of you, boldly patting Wanda on the shoulder. "It's nice to see you again, Y/N. Really nice..." Kate says and looks you up and down with a wink before leaving the room. Wanda feels her shoulder burn where Kate had touched it, and you both look to Yelena.

"Well... I need to, uh..." Yelena says and puts her red cup up to her mouth before quickly ignoring yours and Wandas gaze, leaving the kitchen. There's a moment of silence between the two of you as you stand there.

"Wanda... I had n-" You start, but Wanda cuts you off by grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. She pulls you down the hallway, past the dance floor to the other side of the apartment where the bathroom was. When she closes the door behind you, you open your mouth to speak again.

This time, you're cut off by her lips on yours and your back hitting the bathroom door hard. Your hands are in her hair, and her arms are by your head, trapping you. Wanda presses her body firm against yours, and you let out a quiet moan when you feel her strap press on you through her pants.

"I am going to fuck you so hard that everyone out there is going to know my name," Wanda threatens agaisnt your lips before traveling to kiss your neck. Your hands tug at her hair and you feel yourself get wet at her words.

"W-Wanda, we shouldn't." You moan out, body betraying your words. She kisses down your chest, leaving a mark on the top of your breast.

Wanda chuckles lowly, "I'm sorry, did you think I was giving you a choice?" She takes your hands and pins them above you, smirking at the gasp that escapes your mouth. "So what's it going to be.." her lips ghost yours as you stare up at her with seemingly innocent eyes. "Are you going to be good, and take what you deserve?"

You can only nod in response, your words slipping from your mind. Her grip on your wrists tighten, green eyes peering into yours. "Y-yes..." You finally spit out, your thighs clenching together harder as you feel yourself even more turned on.

"That's right, angel.. You're gonna be my good girl and take my cock," she whispers in your ear and lets go of your hands. You nod your head again quickly, needing to feel her inside of you, needing any type of relief from the strong ache between your legs.

Wanda picks you up and lets you wrap your legs around her hips. You cup her face in your hands and kiss her passionately and sloppily as she brings you to the bathroom counter. You feel the coolness of the counter against the back of your thighs and the mirror on your back. Wanda continues to kiss you desperately, and she begins to roll her hips against you. Groaning into her lips, you pull away and move your hands to help her take off your skirt. You watch with an even stronger aching as she unbuckles her belt.

You can't help but pull her back to you, and she smirks at your eagerness. You unbutton her suit and untuck her blouse, rubbing your hands against her soft skin underneath. Wanda kisses you again, lips desperate for contact. You gasp into her mouth when you feel her hands rip your tights, pulling them off of you quickly.

"Tsk, Tsk... my little slut... you wanted this, didn't you, angel?" Wanda chuckles, fingers tracing your wet folds. She slides two digits in easily, groaning at how wet you were for her.  "Not wearing any panties... you knew I'd be fucking you tonight, didn't you?" She uses her other hand to pull harshly at your hair, forcing you to look up at her. "Answer me, slut."

"Y-Yes!" You whimper out, hands gripping onto her shirt. "I wanted you to fuck me," you confess, and she chuckles darkly as she pumps her fingers faster.

"I know you did, my perfect girl. My angel, hm?" Wanda praises, and you can't help but let your hands slide underneath her blouse again to scratch at the covered skin.

After a minute of listening to you moan for her, she takes out her fingers, ignoring your whines at the sudden empty feeling. Her hand grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open. "Taste yourself for me," Wanda sticks her two fingers in your mouth and watches as you suck them clean, feeling your tongue swirl around her digits as you taste yourself.

She practically growls at the sight and removes her fingers. Her hands leave you momentarily to slide down her pants enough to pull out her thick strap. Grabbing your hips in one hand and her cock in the other, she lines herself up at your entrance, moving the tip up and down your slit, circling it over your clit teasingly.

"Please, please, Wanda!" You beg, pulling her as close to you as you can. She smirks at your neediness, at your desperation.

"You're lucky we're short on time," she comments, "And you're lucky I can't control myself," Wanda adds, feeling the primal need to fuck you immediately. She was just as desperate for you. Before you could say anything you feel yourself being stretched out as she slides the plastic cock inside of you.

"Oh fuck!" You moan out loudly. Wandas arms move to wrap around you, her hands gripping your ass as you wrap your legs around her to pull her hips closer.

Your arms are wrapped around her neck as she starts to move, pumping herself in and out of you. Wanda groans at the sight of you, the noises you were making for her. Your breath is hot against her face before pulling her into a kiss. Wanda began thrusting harder at the feeling of your lips on hers and the sounds of your skin slapping together filled the small room.

"Thats it, take my fucking cock, angel.. I want everyone to know who this sweet cunt belongs to," Wanda chuckles lowly, her accent coming out thick. "Let me hear you, tell them who owns your perfect cunt,"

"Oh, god! Wanda! F-fuck you own me," you moan out and lean forward to put your head against her shoulder. Your lips attach to her neck, biting down on open skin. You can't help but smirk at the sound of Wanda moaning. The feeling of your wet lips kissing and nipping at her neck seemed to send her into a frenzy.

All too soon, Wanda is pulling out of you. She grabs you off of the counter and, in one quick motion, turns you around to face the mirror. Her hands make quick work in removing the now ruffled wings off of you, pulling your corset down just enough to see your breasts spill out from the top of it. When she's satisfied with the sight of your disheveled state, you feel her strap fill you up again. Her hands grip your hips as she begins pounding into you mercilessly.

"Wanda! Ohh feels so good, fuck.. stretching me out!" You manage to get out and she moans, moving one hand off of your hips to reach forward and grab your neck. She pulls you up roughly to have your back pressing against her front. Her fingers tighten around your neck as you feel her lips against your earlobe.

"I want you to watch..." She speaks lowly into your ear, staring into your eyes through the mirror. "I want you to watch as I fuck you and fill you up with my cum. You're going to watch as you fall apart, as you beg for me," Wanda moans in your ear and keeps her hand wrapped around your neck. Her other arm wraps around your chest, her fingers squeezing your sensitive nipples, hand groping your breasts that bounce with every thrust as she drills into you.

"Look at you, angel... Tits out, taking my cock in the bathroom while everyone can hear you being a slut for me. This is how it's supposed to be, isn't it? God, you are perfect. My only angel.. " Wanda never got tired of watching you like this, so needy and messy for her. Your lips parted as you tried to breath with her hand cutting off your air every couple seconds, tears running down your cheeks as she fucked you relentlessly, taking you closer and closer to an orgasm.

You can feel Wanda deep inside you, driving in and out of you at a steady pace. She's hitting that one spot that drives you crazy, and you know you won't last any longer. What really sends you over the edge is the look on Wandas face. Her dark green eyes stare intently at your body, looking into your eyes as she pants heavily and moans your name.

"Fuck angel. You're going to make me cum! I'm going to fucking cum, going to fill you up just like you deserve, baby. Fuck, fuck!" Wanda growls as her thrust become sloppy and you moan in response, nails digging into her arm as you grip onto her. 

"Me too, Wands! Please let me cum, please," you moan, vision becoming blurry with tears as you reach your climax.

"Cum with me, angel.. fucking cum all over my cock, let me hear you when you do. Tell them one more time who owns you," she pants out and latches her lips to your shoulder. "God, take it, take it!" Wanda moans against your skin, biting down hard as she cums.

"Wanda!" You scream her name loudly, both of your moans echoing off the walls as you finally get the relief you were looking for. Your knees go weak as you let go for her, pleasure shocking your core as you wet her cock just as she wanted. Wandas grip is tight on you as your body fails you, holding you in place as she fucks you through your orgasm. She slows to a stop, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly.

"That's it, that's it, I've got you.." She whispers in your ear, holding you tightly against her and kissing the side of your face and neck. "You did so good for me, angel, that's it.." 

After a moment, she pulls out slowly, smirking at the hiss that leaves your lips. You turn around, seeing the familiar devious glint in her eyes. "Get on your knees," she commands, and you can't help but obey. You go to your knees, there in the bathroom, face to face with her strap that was covered in your arousal. "Clean it up for me, angel," Wanda smiles softly, not matching the look behind her green eyes.

Her fingers weave into your hair as you take her cock in your mouth, tasting yourself, gagging as she slides it in further to the back of your throat. Wanda moans as she watches, drool dripping down your chin and onto your chest as you blink through those innocent eyes again. Although you and Wanda both knew, you were anything but. Wanda may have been wearing the horns, but she knew you were a devil in between the sheets. You were enjoying this just as much as she was.

"Just like that baby, every last drop," Wanda smirks down at you and lets you suck her strap for a few more moments. "Good job, you did so good for me," she praises you and removes her cock, tucking it back into her pants and buckling her belt back up.

Wanda wastes no time in helping you up and getting you cleaned up, praising you with more words of affirmations and plenty of kisses. The smile on your face as she did so made her chest warm all over again. She watches you slide up your skirt with shaky hands, chuckling at your the way your legs tremble slightly as she tucks her own shirt back in.

"Come here, my angel," Wanda smiles and takes off her suit jacket, wrapping it around you. You slide your arms inside the sleeves and breathe in deeply, feeling not only the fabric, but her comforting scent wrap around you. 

"Thank you," you giggle and rest your hands on her stomach, leaning up to kiss her.

****

You and Wanda were still in the bathroom, making out. You sat on the counter again, and she was standing between your legs. A knock at the door has you groaning as Wanda pulls away from your lips.

"I think we've held it up long enough. Let's go have some fun," she smiles and kisses your forehead, picking you up and lifting you off of the counter. Wanda had literally fucked you stupid. Your legs were still shaking when she set you down and even though she had done her best to clean you up, you still looked a mess in the mirror.

Wanda opens the door and holds your hand as you walk into the hallway. A few people standing there are staring at you with some wide eyes and giggles and a few of them smirking. One of those with wide eyes was Kate Bishop herself, unable to meet your own eyes. You smile to yourself, blushing deeply and wrapping yourself around Wandas arm. You didn't have to look up at her to know she had a crooked smile on her lips.

A couple hours later and an unknown amount of shots later, you were currently in front of everyone on the makeshift 'stage' with Pietro. Half of the crowd had left, but you and Pietro were still going strong. He stood next to you, shirt gone and wearing your wings and halo with a microphone in his hand. You had one arm wrapped around his shoulder to keep yourself from falling, now wearing his sunglasses and red whistle around your neck.

Bringing your microphone to your lips, you point at Wanda, who was stood in the back, still watching your every move. "This one -hiccup- goes out to my girlfriend! Shout out -hiccup- Wanda!" Your words slur together, and Pietro nods his head. Wanda can't help but laugh and smile at your drunken state, shaking her head.

"Yeah, and I dedicate it to that girl I made out with earlier," he points to a random brunette, and you hear a loud, "Whoo!" and "Yes!" From Yelena, who was, barely, standing in front of the two of you, recording on her phone.

You and Pietro wrap an arm around each other, both of you swaying back and forth as you belt into the microphones drunkenly.

"Baby, not a day goes by, that I'm not, into you!"  You're practically yelling into the microphone, but you still point to Wanda, serenading her beautifully, in your mind, at least. You and Pietro start to jump as the song picks up.

"I should be over all the butterflies, but I'm into, I'm into you..."

The two of you barely finish the song before Pietro is falling down, Yelena laughing hysterically and still recording.

"This is amazing!" She slurs and watches as you trip and fall right over Pietro. The three of you are in fits of laughter as Wanda walks over and nudges her brother, then picks you up.

"Alright, alright.. you guys got to do your karaoke.." Wanda is laughing and holding you up at your waist. You just stare at her, smiling and playing with her hair. "You're sooo pretty," you draw out your words with a giggle and bat your eyelashes, poking the horns on her head. She scrunches her nose playfully at you, "And you are so silly," she giggles back.

"Wait! Y/N, we didn't get to sin -" Pietro starts but is cut off by Natasha walking up.

"Nope! Get your asses in the car," she claps, pointing to the door. You and Pietro pout for a little bit but finally agree to leave. Yelena throws herself at you, hugging you tightly and telling you goodbye. Wanda finally pulls you away and wraps her shoulder around your waist to practically carry you down to Natashas car.

As you lay in the backseat with your head in Wandas lap, you feel her fingers running through your hair, playing with the soft strands. With your own hands, you gripped tightly onto her free hand. Pietro was still singing in the front seat next to Natasha, who was just laughing and shaking her head. Her and Wanda talked about the night, but you could only focus on Wanda, staring up at her. The streetlights shone through the window in flashes, lighting her face every once in a while. You watch as she talks, listening to her accent wrap around certain words. The way her fingers stroked your hair softly. Then suddenly she was staring down at you and you freeze as she smiles.

"You doing okay, angel?" She whispers, and you nod, watching her lips. Wanda leans down and gives you a sweet kiss, continuing to stroke your hair.

By the time Natasha pulled into the garage, you had passed out in the backseat. Pietro wanted to wake you to 'continue the party', but Wanda firmly told him no. She lifts you up in her arms, holding your body to her chest.

"She's an angel," Natasha teases and laughs at your sleepy state. "You got her?" Natasha asks, and Wanda nods, looking down at you in her arms. "I got her," she smiles and chuckles at your sleepy nature, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "My only angel," Wanda sighs quietly.

[vivwritesfics]

Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Two - Angel

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

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Series Masterlist

READ PLS: hello my lovelies!! So, if you're here from the first part, pls either reread or take note that I have removed all connection to the bianchi family -- the brother is called Louis and the last name is Dupont

Max returned to that spot time and time again. He drove past the café almost every day for his first week in Monaco. Sometimes his angel was there, sometimes she wasn't.

This time, though, when Max drove past, she was there. Sitting in the café with a fruity smoothie in front of her, wearing another sun dress. This time it was green, the skirt slightly shorter and little white flowers decorating it.

Max parked up around the corner. He straightened his tie and climbed out of his car. Always dressed in a suit just in case anybody needed him. Just in case his father called him back to work.

He walked past her, paying no mind as he stepped through the café doors. But then he stepped back, something between a smirk and a smile on his face as he walked towards her.

"Hi," he said, his hand on the back of the chair opposite her own. "Can I ask what you ordered? I'm hoping to get something sweet."

She knew not to talk to strangers. Even before the death of her brother, she had been taught how much danger she was in at all times. Normally Charles would be here to take care of it, to glare a the stranger until they moved away.

But Charles wasn't here. This is what she got for sneaking out.

Thank God this guy was cute. That shouldn't have been a reason to answer him, but she did. She held up her plastic cup and shook it slightly, answering him. "Strawberry banana," she said and put the straw to her lips. Max watched as the pink liquid moved up the straw. "It's incredibly sweet."

Max couldn't stop his smile from widening. He leaned against the chair in front of him now, not just resting his hands on it. "Is it as sweet as you?"

Oh, he was flirting with her.

She couldn't hide her embarrassment. Every time a mad had tried to flirt with her before, Charles had shut them down and scared them off.

But this man, well Charles wasn't there to scare him off. For the first time in her life a man was openly flirting with her. He was flirting with her and it was making het all bashful. And maybe a little bit shy.

He held his large hand out towards her. She couldn't help but take notice of the watch on his wrist. It was no doubt expensive, but that wasn't a surprise, considering where they were. "I'm Max," he said, keeping his hand stretched out.

She took it, but her grip was loose as she told him her name. "But everybody calls me Bunny."

"Bunny," he responded, listening to the way it rolled off of his tongue. He liked it, liked how it sounded. But, if everybody called her Bunny, Max needed something else. He looked at her, really looked at her. Looked at the way her hair fell around her shoulders, the way her fingers, nails painted to match her dress, wrapped around her plastic cups. Looked at the way her pink lips wrapped around her straw. "Angel. I think it's more fitting."

Before Max could say anything further, his phone beeped. Saving her, he couldn't help but think. "Well, Angel, I have to go," he said, standing up straight. "Can I see you again?" 

She smiled as she nodded. "You know where to find me," she said and sipped the rest of her drink.

Max looked at her once more and walked away, down the street and back to his car. For the last week Max had been waiting for his father to call him back to work and, now that he had, he didn't want to leave. 

Max disappeared and she was alone. She sipped her smoothie and returned to her small sketchbook, pencil moving against the page. 

Suddenly, somebody slipped into the seat opposite her. She looked up, hoping it was Max, returning to flirt with her some more. But she was met with disappointment.

"Oh, Arthur," she said when she looked at the youngest Leclerc brother. "Am I in trouble?"

Arthur let out a small laugh and furrowed her brows at her. "You sneak out too often to get into trouble, Bun," he replied as he looked around. 

"Not because I spoke to that guy?" She asked innocently. 

But Arthur's face dropped. He may have been younger than her, but he was still tasked with keeping her safe. "Do you remember what this guy looked like, Bunny?" He asked as he grabbed her sketchbook and pulled her from her chair. 

She nodded her head as Arthur led her down the street. "He was cute," she said and let out a little laugh. 

But Arthur wasn't laughing as he looked around the streets. "You know that's not what I meant," he replied as he led her into her apartment building. "You know you're not meant to talk to strangers."

He dragged her up the stairs and pulled her into her apartment. Arthur immediately sat her down and checked every crevice of the apartment. He grabbed the knife from the kitchen and checked inside of the bedroom. 

Nothing, her apartment was clear. 

"Fucking hell, Bunny," Arthur spat. "You had me terrified."

She pouted as she fiddled with her fingers. "He was flirting with me, 'thur. I think he really thought I was cute," she mumbled and laid herself down on the sofa, pulling her legs into her chest. 

Arthur released a breath from his nose as he looked down at her. "Of course he did, Bunny," he whispered and ran his fingers through her hair. "It's just... Charles and I don't know this person. We don't know if they can be trusted.”

She didn't reply.

Eventually Charles came to her apartment. When he let himself in, Arthur retreated to the kitchen. To 'make dinner', he had said. (But, something you should know about the Leclerc brothers is that neither of them could cook very well. Arthur stopped by his mothers every night for dinner and Charles wouldn't eat unless Bunny cooked for him).

The first thing Charles did was stride over to her. He sat on the end of the couch and looked down at her. "I'm not mad you snuck out," he said. Which, although it sounded like it, it wasn't a good sign. If it wasn't because of the sneaking out, he was mad about something else.

She didn't look at him, instead staring at her coffee table. There was a light layer on dust on it, and she made a mental note to clean it later. After this stupid conversation.

"But, Bunny, I need you to tell me who this guy is. Did he give you a name? Any indication of who she was?"

She'd made the mistake of telling Arthur something, she wasn't going to do it again. She tried her best to shrug her shoulders from the position she was sitting in, but it didn't much work. "He just asked what flavour my smoothie was," she said and sat up slightly.

She couldn't tell if Charles believed her or not. He simply let out a sigh and patted her leg. "Wanna get take out?" He asked softly. "We can kick Arthur out, share Chinese food and watch a movie. How does that sound, Bun?"

Her arms were folded over her chest as she sat up and looked at him. "Are you paying for it?" She asked through a pout.

"Yeah, Bun, I'll pay for it," he said and went to the kitchen to grab the menus. At the same time he kicked Arthur out of the apartment (grateful that he hadn't started cooking any sort of monstrosity yet).

Charles knew exactly what he was going to be ordering, but he still handed her the menu. She asked for the same thing every time, and this time was no different. He was on the phone, ordering food within minutes.

He couldn't concentrate on much through the movie. Charles watched her, but he couldn't help but think of some faceless stranger, snatching her in the middle of the night.

He'd let her get away with sneaking out, even if he hadn't meant to. But not again. There was no way Charles was going to let her out of his sight now.

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[coldfanbou]

Banding Together

Alright, everyone, here is the fic I was talking about. The first lady you see is Hyun-Jung of Rolling Quartz, while the second is Magenta of QWER. I love both bands and wanted to write them, so here we are with them. Also, yes, the title is a pun because they are both in a band. Please enjoy.

Length 3K

Magenta x Mreader X HyunJung

Sitting at an empty bar, you sip your drink while waiting for your friend. The small chime of the bell alerted you to her entrance. “What took you so long?” You ask, turning to face the door. You note someone else standing with her.

“I was bringing a friend,” she chides, giving you a slight wink. Hyun-Jung wore a simple white dress that suited her well, considering her blonde hair, which turned light blue. You look over and recognize the face. 

“And it’s someone I know.” You finish the last of your drink before ordering another, “Boss, serve the ladies whatever they’d like.” You tell the bartender before standing up. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Min-hee.” She greets you, bowing slightly. Min-hee wears a white button-up shirt, a low black vest, and a gray skirt.

“I know. You’re Magenta of Qwer. How do you know Hyun-Jung?” 

“We started talking a while ago. I really like her music, and I complimented her online. We started talking a little afterward, and we’ve gone out a few times.” 

“That’s great. It’s nice to know Hyun-Jung had friends.” Hyun-Jung slaps your shoulder before taking a seat next to you. 

“Boss, the most expensive drink you have,” she says, eyeing you. Shaking your head, you sit back down in your seat. Magenta sits next to Hyun-Jung. “Oh, make it two, Boss.” Hyun-Jung giggles as she puts one hand on Magenta’s shoulder. “We’re going to drink all night!” She says, happy as can be. Sighing in response, you down your drink. 

“Have you two ever played together? I mean, Hyun-Jung is a guitarist, and you're a bassist, Magenta.” 

Magenta shakes her head, “We haven’t played together at all. We mostly go to karaoke and sing our hearts out. Plus, I still stream…”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Magenta lets out a slight snort before giggling. “I just mean that you two could still play together for fun.”

Magenta waves you off, “I get it, I get it. You just said that so plainly.” She grabs her drink, wrapping her lips around the straw and taking a sip before continuing. “We just like to relax together, so we go out to sing.”

Hyun-Jung interrupts your conversation, leaning forward to block your line of sight of Magenta. “Am I just a third wheel on your guys' date?” She bangs her fist against the counter. “Don’t just ignore me.” Hyun-Jung’s anger makes you both laugh. 

“Oh, relax. We’re just chatting.” Hyun-Jung huffs and down the last of her drink. “Take your time drinking; you know how you can get.”

“I’ll be fine. You have to watch out for Min-hee. She’s the one that gets wild.” 

Magenta shakes her friend, “I’m not that bad!” She whines. Hyun-Jung laughs, knowing she’s getting to her friend. 

The three of you stay at the bar until late into the night. Both women were drunk after the many drinks they had at your expense. “I know I said today was on me, but couldn’t you two have taken it a little easy?” 

“No, free drinks are free drinks,” Hyun-Jung says, hiccups overtaking her as she stumbles out of the bar. Magenta wasn’t fairing much better, holding onto Hyun-Jung before falling to the ground. Her face was red, and she continued to pull on Hyun-Jung’s white dress from the ground. Hyun-Jung grabbed the end of her dress, pulling back on it. “You’re going to make everything spill out!” She yelled. What she said was true, though; Magenta’s pulling nearly made one of Hyun-Jung’s tits pop out of her dress. 

“I need help!” Magenta whined. Her previously pristine outfit was dirtied from the fall, and the wine she had spilled on herself earlier. As you looked down at the fallen woman, you glanced at her cleavage. Magenta had unbuttoned her shirt just a little in an attempt to dry her shirt. 

You squat down in front of the drunk woman, “Come on, I’ll carry you to the station.” Magenta sniffles before letting go of Hyun-Jung’s dress and climbing you. You grip her thighs tightly as you stand up, feeling her arms tighten their grip around you as she presses herself against you.  

“You live nearby; let’s stay at your house.” Hyun-Jung’s says as she wraps her arms around yours to support herself. 

“Are you sure? Magenta, what do you think?”

“I wouldn’t mind staying with you.” She says softly. 

“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” 

Along the way home, you feel Magenta rubbing against you. Hyun-Jung seemed completely unaware as Magenta planted her lips on your neck. “Thanks for the night out. Is there any way I could pay you back?” She whispered, adding extra emphasis to any. “I’m sure I could find a good way once we get to your home.” 

Magenta kissed your neck again, her soft lips lingering there. You felt her small tongue lick your neck; it sent a shiver down your spine. You stayed silent, not wanting to give her any attention. “Hey, are we there yet?” Hyun-Jung asked as if to remind you she was there, too. 

“Nearly there, Hyun-Jung.” You continue walking, your arms getting tired from carrying the flirty Magenta.

“I’m getting cold,” Hyun-Jung complained. 

“This is why I told you to bring a jacket,” you reply, nearing your apartment. “Just hold on a little longer. We’re nearly there.” Once you entered the main building, you let Magenta down. “You can walk the rest of the way. I’m getting a little tired.” 

Magenta rests against you, her arms wrapping themselves around your neck. You feel her rub her leg against yours as she brings it up. “What if you carried me like this?” She says in a low voice, jumping up and wrapping her legs around your waist. The sudden weight nearly brings you both down, forcing you to react. You place your hands on her ass as you take a step forward, attempting to balance yourself. Magenta takes the opportunity to shift her weight, smacking your face with her breasts. You’re getting aroused; Magenta was a beautiful woman throwing herself at you.

“Min-Hee! What are you doing?” Hyun-Jung says, trying to get her friend off you.

Magenta clings to you fiercely, “What?! I’m just holding on so he can carry me! Don’t be jealous!” Magenta shakes her head as Hyun-Jung tries to get her off you. After some struggles, Hyun-Jung was able to pry Magenta off you. Magenta pouts as she sits on the cold floor, “You just want him for yourself.”

“That’s not true. I don’t even want him.” The words sting a little, but you know it wasn’t meant as an insult. You grab Magenta’s hand and pull her to her feet before continuing to your apartment. 

You each slip your shoes off at the entrance before heading further inside your home. “I’m going to the bathroom,” Hyun-Jung says, leaving you and Magenta alone. You take a seat on your couch and shut your eyes for a moment, tired from carrying the drunk woman. Magenta stays rooted to where she’s standing, her hands behind her back as she spins from side to side. After the door to the bathroom shuts, she looks down, unbuttoning her vest before walking over to you. You only notice when you feel her straddle you; opening your eyes, you meet hers. Magenta presses her lips against yours; her delicate hands cup your cheeks before sliding down your neck and moving toward your hands. At your wrists, she brings your hands to her tiny waist. Magenta breaks the kiss, a small strand of saliva keeping you connected as she places her hands on your chest. 

“I’m going to repay you,” She says with a sly smile. She kisses you again as her hands move down to your pants, undoing your belt and pulling your dick out. Magenta’s hand moves slowly down your shaft, making you groan into her kiss. You snake your hands under her shirt, feeling her smooth skin as your hands move up her sides. Blocked by her black bra, your hands reach around her, unlatching it. “Naughty boy,” Magenta whispers as her grip tightens. Magenta uses her other hand to rub the head of your cock, her thumb moving across the tip, becoming covered in a layer of precum. 

You open up the rest of her shirt as she strokes your cock. You cup the underside of one of her tits, shaking it slightly and watching it jiggle as your other hand rubs her thigh. Magenta’s light moans turn you on. As she kisses you again, you pull her closer, feeling the heat coming from her core. Magenta pulls her shirt off and breaks the kiss. Pressing her tits against her chest, you lean forward, kissing her neck as she places her hands on your shoulders. “I can feel your cock twitching.” Magenta coos. She looks down at you, smiling as she pushes your head away. She reaches down, grabs it, and moves her hand along the shaft slowly, “I know you want to be inside me already, but you have to be patient.” She says, getting off you and kneeling. She spreads your legs apart slowly, sneaking in between them. 

Grabbing your cock again, she moves her hand up and down the shaft, smiling as she feels the warmth from it. Watching it leak precum, Magenta leans in and drags her tongue along the head. “Mmm, nice and salty.” She says before taking another lick; this time, Magenta wraps her lips around the head, her tongue swirling around it. You throw your head back and moan. Magetna’s small tongue teases you, going around the tip of your cock, only to stop midway and go in the other direction. Magenta slowly bobs her head, turning it slightly so your cock rubs the inside of her cheek. She pops you out of her mouth for a brief second, “Do you like it?” She says, continuing to stroke your cock.

“What are you two doing?!” Hyun-Jung yells, returning from the bathroom.

“What do you think?” Magenta says before she drags her tongue along the underside of your shaft. “I’m giving our host a nice treat.” Magenta stuffs her mouth with your cock, bobbing her head and turning her complete focus over to you. Hyun-Jung stands there in complete shock as Magenta continues to pleasure you, her tongue coating your cock in a layer of saliva. Feeling your orgasm coming, Magenta focuses on the head, running her tongue back and forth across the tip, making you squirm. Your hips start to move uncontrollably as you near your orgasm; Magenta’s gentle hand tries to keep you still as her tongue laps at your cock.

“Magneta, I’m cumming,” You groan as you buck your hips. Magenta sucks on the head, feeling your warm cum coat her tongue as she milks you by stroking your shaft. Hyun-Jung watches as Magenta’s throat flexes and relaxes as she drinks your cum. She feels a growing wetness in her panties as she watches the scene unfold. Her right-hand moves down her dress, rubbing her folds as she watches Magenta pull away and show you an empty mouth. 

Magenta glances over at Hyun-Jung; seeing her friend getting active, she draws attention to it. “I guess you want some, too, huh, Hyun-Jung,” She says, slapping her face with your limp cock. Hyun-Jung gulps, unable to say a word. “It’s okay; you don’t have to say anything. Just come over here. I’ll even make room for you.” Magenta scoots to the side and waves Hyun-Jung closer. She remains standing in place momentarily, considering her options before eventually moving toward you. She kneels before your, eyeing your cock. “I have just the thing to get this little guy hard again,” Magenta announces before pulling on Hyun-Jung’s dress, getting her tits out. Only now did you see Hyun-Jung hadn’t been wearing a bra. “There we go.” She says with a proud smile on her face. “Now we just do this,” Magenta presses her tits against your cock and pulls Hyun-Jung to do the same. Magenta presses her tits against Hyun-Jung’s, trapping your cock in the middle as they begin to move. You can feel their nipples rub against your cock. Hyun-Jung watches you carefully, listening to your moans. The women feel your cock come back, growing hard between their tits. 

“It’s back,” Magenta says to herself. Hyun-Jung, I’ll let you go first.” Hyun-Jung is taken aback by Magenta’s words. She hadn’t expected her friend to give her the first chance. The pair stand up, with Magenta getting behind Hyun-Jung. She raised the bottom of Hyun-Jung’s dress, revealing her white panties. “Aww, look at you trying to look pure, unnie.” The teasing makes Hyun-Jung blush, and the redness on her face gets stronger as Magenta moves her panties to the side. “Look at this little pussy. Aren’t you a lucky man?” Magenta says as she pushes Hyun-Jung onto you. Magenta helps you and Hyun-Jung along, aligning you with her cunt and pushing her friend onto your cock. 

“O-oh,” Hyu-Jung lets out a staggered moan as she feels your cock enter her. Magenta’s lips on the back of her neck arouse her further, and as you begin to move Hyun-Jung’s voice reigns free, filling the room as you stuff her with your cock. Magenta toys with her friend, squeezing her tits as Hyun-Jung bounces on your cock. You grip Hyun-Jung’s waist, your hands digging into her soft flesh as you pull her down. You nip at the other side of her neck, giving her more pleasure. With the mass of hands and lips touching her Hyun-Jung begins to lose herself to the pleasure, her warm walls squeeze down on your cock. 

“Unnie, it looks like you’re having a lot of fun. Do you like riding him that much?” 

“Mhmm, I-I love it.” Magenta plants her lips on Hyun-Jung’s while continuing to play with her tits. Her fingers trapping Hyun-Jung’s nipples and pulling them taut, making the older woman moan. 

“I love playing with you, unnie. Your tits are so soft.” Magenta whispers into Hyun-Jung’s ear. “You don’t mind if I get a taste, do you?” 

“What?” Hyun-Jung mumbles before feeling Magenta latch onto her tit. She looks down to see her friend suckling on her tit, feeling Magenta’s tongue swirl around her nipple. You do the same, getting her other nipple. Hyun-Jung holds you both to her chest, keeping you in place and becoming a moaning mess. Her cunt holds you tightly, clamping down around your head as she nears her climax. “Shit, I’m cumming.” You squeeze Hyun-Jung; her soft body is perfect for it. Your thrusts continue to speed up, your cock twitching wildly inside her. You bury your cock inside Hyun-Jung, holding her down as your cum paints her walls white. Hyun-Jung cries out as she feels the hot cum rush into her body; she grinds against you taking every drop. 

Magenta watches on happily, eagerly awaiting her turn. She rubs her clit through her panties, whimpering as she has to wait for Hyun-Jung to get off you. 

You kiss Hyun-Jung as you feel her walls squeeze the tip of your cock for more. She returns it, her tongue lazily tracing your lips as you help her off. Hyun-Jung falls back onto the floor, her legs too weak to hold her up. 

Seeing this, Magenta has a lightbulb moment. She crawls over the tired woman, coming face-to-face with Hyun-Jung. Magenta looks over her shoulder to you, raising her ass and arching her back. She shakes it from side to side, telling you to hurry up. You kneel down, holding her tiny waist with one hand while the other moves her panties to the side. Magenta was ready, her cunt slick with her nectar. You can push in with ease, sliding into the deepest parts. Magenta muffled her moans by kissing Hyun-Jung. The older woman could barely return the kiss and let Magenta explore her mouth. You gave Magenta hard thrusts, impaling her. You snuck your hands around her body, squeezing one of her tits and flicking her clit with the other hand. Magenta pushed her ass against you, loving how your cock was ruining her. She held Hyun-Jung’s hands, holding them by the older woman’s head as she forced her tongue into her mouth.  “You’re so tight, Magenta.” You groan. Magenta’s cunt felt like it was tightening around you with every thrust. As you played with her clit, you could feel her tight abs as your forearm rubbed against them. It seemed like she had trained her entire body.

You pull away slowly, holding her waist as you ram your cock into her cunt. Magenta’s moans slowly grow louder despite using Hyun-Jung to silence them. You raise one of your hands high into the air and bring it down on her ass, a deafening clap filling the room. Magenta felt the lingering sting on her ass. Her eyes began to roll into the back of her head as you delivered another strike. Magenta was forced to break her kiss with Hyun-Jung. She began to lap at the older woman’s neck hungrily. “Unnie, I’m going to cum. I’m gonna cum!” She cried out, her grip on Hyun-Jung tightening as her walls clamped down on your cock. Magenta pressed her ass against you, making your cock kiss her womb as she came. Your thrusts continued for another moment before you drove it deep into Magenta and filled her cunt with the first shot of cum. You pulled out and stroked your cock, painting her toned back with your cum before falling back.

You all lay on the floor, tired and wasted from the night. The next morning you woke up to the sight of the women holding each other, with Magenta suckling on Hyun-Jung’s tit as she slept. Magenta still had your cum on her back while Hyun-Jung lay in a pool of it.  Hyun-Jung’s dress would be ruined, while Magenta’s clothes were relatively untouched. You got up slowly and shook them both awake. Magenta smiled as she saw the near-naked  Hyun-Jung. “Unnie, last night was fun. We should do it again.” She said with a smile. Magenta looked at you and winked, telling you she wanted more times like last night. 

Hyun-Jung shook her head slowly, “Never again. This hangover is killing me.” She said, not realizing she was half-naked and filled with cum.

[tayraedoll]

My Compliments to the Chef

Part 2 of the series- You go on your date; Alastor gives you some unusual cooking lessons and the ovens aren't the only things getting hot.

Part 1

TW: Self-consciousness, mild sexual situations, sensory deprivation, flashbacks, hurt/comfort, swearing

You stared down at the dress on your bed. It had been neatly laid out when you returned to your room the night before with a message scrawled in the most elegant handwriting you had ever seen:

Don't be late Darling - A

The dress was gorgeous- all black with a halter top, knee-length pleated skirt, and a thin belt around the middle. The fabric felt sturdy, no doubt it was expensive. He even gifted you a pair of black stilettos to pair with it.

You bit your lip nervously, of course you were nervous about going on a date with Alastor, but what caused your heart rate to spike at the moment was the thought of wearing this dress. It was definitely considered modest-to Alastor's taste- but the halter top would show the entirety of your arms...there was no way to hide the scars that littered your skin. Could you wear a jacket? Would that be considered rude?

You sighed, if you didn't get changed soon then you would be late...and you did not want to find out what Alastor would do if you kept him waiting after he explicitly told you to be on time. You paired the dress with simple silver hoop earrings and a bracelet and dabbed on dark merlot-red lipstick. Overall you looked good...if you could ignore your arms. You swiftly left the bathroom, not wanting to look in the mirror more than necessary. Snatching a small clutch you made your way to the lobby.

You caught sight of Alastor as you descended the stairs- he had traded his normal red pinstriped suit for a black one with coattails. He wore a bright red bow tie and he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail that exposed his undercut. You were so preoccupied with ogling at him that you missed a step and had to catch yourself on the railing to save yourself from an embarrassing fall the rest of the way down the staircase.

When you safely reach the ground level Alastor turns with a cheerful grin and confidently strides up to you, "You look absolutely ravishing Darling!" His hand reached for yours and gently brought it to his lips. "Give us a twirl!", he raised your hand above your head and you slowly rotated on the toe of one heel for him, a happy smile curling across your own face at his antics. "Tu es magnifique."

You blush at the barrage of compliments and nervously cough,"Shall we go then?", you start towards the door only for for the demon deer to wrap an arm around your waist.

"Nuh-uh-uh! Not that way My Dear! I would not subject you to walking in those shoes all the way across the Pride Ring. No, we shall be traveling in style!", he adjusted his bow tie and puffed out his chest. He pulled you flush against him and leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Hold on tight Darling."

You gasp as your vision suddenly went black and your feet were no longer on solid ground. Your grip on Alastor's coat was iron-clad as you reacted to the sudden weightlessness of your body. Then, just as soon as it began it was over, but instead of being in the hotel lobby you found yourself on the sidewalk outside a beautiful white-brick building. You were so busy taking in your new surroundings you didn't notice that you never let go of Alastor until he chuckled at you, "Oh! Sorry!", you jumped away from him and hid your blush by smoothing your dress down.

Alastor approached the little mouse demon hostess, she looked up at the much taller demon with a friendly smile, "Good evening Mr. Alastor sir! We have your table ready!" She hopped off her stool, barely coming up to The Radio Demon's knees, to lead the way to your dinner table.

The inside of the restaurant was just as stunning as the outside. It was all polished birch wood with black and gold accents and was dimly lit except for a small stage with a live pianist playing a relaxing tune. The chairs were dark with gold cushions, the tables adorned with white tablecloths, gold napkins, and black roses served as the centerpieces.

The hostess deftly placed the menus on the table and filled the water glasses, "Your server will be right with you!" Alastor held your chair out and motioned for you to take a seat before pushing it in.

"Oh Al, this place is breathtaking!", you take one last awed look around before unfolding your menu.

"Hmm yes, this place is certainly a bit of a hidden gem. There are certain types that won't give it a fair chance due to the staff actually."

"What do you mean?", you give him a perplexed look.

Just then, another cheerful mouse demoness approached your table, but she was significantly taller than the hostess. No, not a mouse...a rat. "Ah Alastor! I thought I heard your voice!", she chirped. "And who is it you've brought with you? She sounds lovely!", the rat turned to you then, her eyes were completely white and foggy as if she had milk on her lenses. It took you a second to understand- she was completely blind.

"Tilly, my dear friend! This is Y/N, she is a chef as well and I thought I'd bring her here tonight to experience all La Rodere has to offer", Alastor smiled kindly between you and Tilly despite her not being able to see it. "I'll just have my usual Tilly, if you don't mind. Although, perhaps a bottle of champagne instead of whiskey tonight."

"Of course! And what can I get you Sweetheart?", she faced you expectantly.

You quickly glance at the menu again,"Could I get the Poulet a la Moutard Francaise please?"

"Yes ma'am! It's a pleasure to meet you Y/N, I do hope you enjoy yourself this evening!", with that Tilly scampered off to fetch the champagne and turn in your order.

"You have impeccable taste My Dear", Alastor eyed you slyly.

"I take it that is your usual order?", you smiled over your glass of water at him.

"Correct! Now come along, or we will miss the show!", he grabbed your hand and pulled you along to the swinging doors that hid the kitchen from the dining area.

"Alastor! I don't think they would want us back there!", you admonished the chaotic demon.

"Nonsense! I join the kitchen all the time Darling! HAHAHA", he laughed at your bewildered face. "I assure you, you are in for quite a treat."

Upon entering the kitchen you were met with a small kitchen that was neatly kept. The smells of all the French cuisine hit your nose warmly causing you to take a deep breath in. Cozy- that was how you would describe this kitchen. There were three other rat demons similar to Tilly working at the space's center. Two more with the milky eyes and one with jet black eyes.

"Y/N, meet Tilly's siblings- Lilly, Billie, and Stew. They will be preparing our meals tonight!", Alastor introduced you, though none of the three chefs reacted to your presence at all. There was something that just seemed...off, but you couldn't decide what it was.

Just then, Tilly came in and joined her siblings at the center of the kitchen. A copy of the restaurants menu was laid out on the counter, she skimmed over the menu with with her fingers until she found the dish that you and Alastor chose. The rat with the beady, black eyes glanced at the item Tilly pointed to and began preparing the chicken and the mustard sauce. Once you began to get your first whiffs of the food, the third rat started blending various spices together, not using any measuring tools at all and continuously taking large sniffs at the mixture.

"What's happening Al?"

"You may be familiar with the three blind mice, but what about the four rats with only one sense each?", Alastor chuckled at you.

"One sense? What do you mean?", you ask as the rodent with the spices let out a hum of approval and mixed the blend into the dish. The beady-eyed rat then placed it in the oven to finish cooking.

"Tilly is the only one that can hear, hence the reason she takes the orders. Her sister Lilly is the only one that can see, so she begins the dish preparations and does the plating. Billie, being both blind and deaf, has a peculiar sense of smell. She does all the spice blends and knows when the dish is ready to plate and serve", Alastor explained as you watched on completely mesmerized. Just like he said, Billie clasped Lilly on the arm, which Lilly responded to by immediately pulling the food out not even bothering to temp it.

"So what does Stew do?", you nod to the last rat in the group.

"Oh, Stew has the most important job of all! Not a dish goes out that he does not taste test first!"

Lilly placed a spoon in the mustard sauce and lifted it to Stew's lips; he paused momentarily as the sauce caressed his taste buds. He reached out and felt around various spices with different tops in front of him until he found the salt which he sprinkled over the top of the dish before nodding his approval. Lilly divided the food between two plates and handed them to Tilly.

"Your dinner is ready!", she cheerfully called to the two of you. Alastor placed your arm through his and led you back to your table where your champagne was already waiting. He once again pulled your chair out for you and tucked you under the table before taking his seat.

The food was positively divine, possibly the best you had ever eaten. You chewed slowly, savoring each bite; thinking of how each individual leaned into their strengths to pull the meal together flawlessly.

"Penny for your thoughts my Dear?", Alastor broke you from your reverie.

You smirked back at him, "Are my thoughts worth so little?" Your smile softens as he laughs, but then you frown. "I feel sorry for them...I can't imagine only having one sense. Not only in everyday life but in the kitchen especially; part of what makes being a chef so fun is getting to use all the senses to create a masterpiece."

Alastor hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose, but they all get to enjoy it in their own way. The unique artistry of their preparations is a large part of why I am so fond of this place."

You reached a hand out to his slowly, allowing him time to pull away if he wanted, but he didn't as your fingers tentatively caressed the back of his hand, "Thank you for bringing me here, I feel honored that you have entrusted me with one of your secret indulgences."

His other hand came up to run his claws over your hand, you flinch back slightly when they run over the exposed, red skin of your arm. It did not hurt, but you were afraid it would repulse him. You bring your hand back to yourself and shift uncomfortably for a second, skin tingling slightly. You don't notice the crimson eyes studying your reaction.

"There's a reason I brought you here specifically, your training begins tomorrow."

Your head snaps back up to him,"What training?"

You stand there in the kitchen nervously, wondering what Alastor was going to have you make. The prospect of cooking for The Radio Demon thrilled you, there was so much that you could learn from someone with his experience. But the anxiety gnawed at you, he made it clear he was not a fan of your cooking, what were you supposed to make to impress him?

"Ah good evening My Dear!", speak of the demon himself..."What are we making today?"

Oh? He was planning on cooking WITH you?! This was an unexpected but exciting turn of events; there were so many advanced dishes he could help you with!

"OOO maybe a turducken?! I have always wanted to try making one! We could start with- OW!!", Alastor had flicked you right between the eyes rather hard, your hand flying up to rub the sore spot on your forehead.

"No, we are not teaming up to make some ridiculous frankendish monstrosity. We are here so that you can learn how to speak through your dishes. Put yourself on a plate! Now, what is something you enjoy cooking? What's a dish that you enjoy eating? Not for how pretty it is or how well you have mastered it, but something that you feel genuine emotion for? Preferably something simple."

You frowned at him, a dish you were emotional about? You had to think, most dishes that evoked any emotion in you conjured negative feelings due to failing at them. You highly doubted that's what he had in mind. After a moment, an idea finally popped into your head, "What about tuna melts? I used to make them all the time when I was in culinary school, they were fast and easy to make between classes."

"Excellent! Tell me, what are the ingredients?"

As you listed your ingredients off they suddenly appeared on the table one-by-one. After all ingredients were gathered you set out to start your prep when Alastor grabbed your arm, "Not so fast Dear, there is one more thing I did not tell you." With a snap of his fingers, your vision was suddenly non-existent. You gabbed onto the counter to ground yourself as your world suddenly plunged into darkness.

"Alastor! What the fuck are you doing?! I can't cook if I can't see!"

"Oh, but you can Darling! You just witnessed two blind rats cook yesterday!"

"Lilly did the cooking and she had sight!"

"Well, then it is a good thing I am here! I shall be your eyes today", he leaned in close, his chest just centimeters from your back. An expected shiver traveled up your spine as if his static was prickling directly at your skin. "You worry too much about aesthetic perfection, hone in on your other senses for a bit. Learn to let go."

You bit your lip in contemplation, "You won't let me hurt myself right?"

You felt more than heard his low chuckle vibrate across your shoulders, giving you another involuntary shiver. His fingers trailed down your sleeve-covered arms to where your hands still gripped the counter, "I promise no blood will be spilled this day."

Your breath hitched slightly as he dislodged your fingers from the counter, as your posture straightened you back became flush with his chest. Was he always this much taller than you? It felt like he was towering over you, his breath caressing your scalp and blowing your hair slightly. He leaned impossibly closer to you, "Now, walk me through how to make this dish."

His hands guided yours through cutting your french loaves. You focused intently on your sense of smell, trying to gauge when just the right amount of garlic was added to your butter when it became fragrant. It was hard to concentrate on the food though, with Alastor's cologne filling your nostrils with every inhale. You felt the demon flinch back slightly when you opened the cans of tuna.

"You sustained yourself by consuming cat food?", he asked incredulously.

"Hey! It's actually really good! Besides, you don't get to complain when you are a broke college student. These cans were less than a dollar each!", you laugh, reminiscing about your college days scraping together pennies just to fill your fridge.

"Hmm, perhaps you should have contemplated eating your teachers instead. The ones you didn't care for anyways."

He helped you mix and spread the tuna across the bread loaves, topping them with cheddar slices before popping them in the oven. Even when you weren't using your hands his touch lingered, as if he didn't want to let you go.

You pulled the melts out of the oven when you heard the cheese bubbling, the bread gave a satisfying crunch when you cut the sandwiches in half. Your first bite transported you back to culinary school, you could picture yourself scarfing your sandwich down before your next class began. A mixture of anxiety, determination, and exhaustion consumed you, an emotional cocktail that you were intimately familiar with during that time in your life.

"Hm! I suppose the cat food is edible", Alastor snarked from behind you as he ate his own sandwich. "It reminds me of a seafood dish we ate mixed with peas during The Great Depression, however, this is more elevated. I can imagine you struggling to get by financially and turning to this dish to satiate your hunger. I can finally taste you in this meal...good job Y/N."

You smiled at the long-awaited compliment, with another snap of his fingers your sight was restored. Sadly, that meant that Alastor stepped away from you and you lamented the loss of contact.

"Now, just two more senses to vanquish! Make sure to think of two more meals that hold a special place in your heart. Good work today my dear!", a surprised yelp ripped out your throat as his cane gently smacked your ass on his way to the door. Did he seriously just-?! But before you could confront him about it he was gone, leaving nothing but a manic chuckle behind.

The next evening you waited for the deer demon impatiently, your thumb tapping against the the opposite bicep. What was that yesterday? The memory of how close Alastor was to you played over and over in your mind. How the heat of his chest seeped into the flesh of your back, how his claws tingled as they traced down your arms. But mostly you thought of how his hands felt holding yours; how the muscles and tendons flexed as he moved you around...how the strength of them left little doubt about what others things he could make you do with so little resistance...

"My, my- someone's a bit jittery today!"

Alastor's voice made you jump, your mind scrambling to abandon the train of thought you were on.

"A-Alastor! Hi! Er-yes, just excited for our next lesson is all!", you laugh nervously. "Today I was thinking of making salmon and risotto bowls. It was what I cooked to win that scholarship to culinary school."

"Excellent choice My Dear! I must say I quite like your affinity for seafood. Now, lets begin", he snapped and your world, once again, fell dark.

"Uh Alastor? Weren't you supposed to take a different sense away? I worked blindly yesterday already!"

"Hmm yes you did, but you will find that I did take another sense away. As for your sight well...", he leaned in close, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear "...perhaps I just like you this way."

You exhale shakily, the air around you feeling thick, the tension weighing on your shoulders. You took a few deep breaths to calm your heart rate; as if sensing your distress, Alastor straightened up to put some distance between you but maintained the looming presence behind you as he took your hands and helped you through making your dish. You leaned in to smell the fish to check the seasoning when you realized you couldn't smell a thing. You were completely dependent on your hearing alone to cook. Your mind raced as you struggled to figure out a plan of action to continue.

Alastor leaned into you once again, whispering into your ear "Surrender completely, my dear listener, let the food sing you a melody. And trust me as your host of this experience, I promise I won't steer you wrong." He gently carded a claw through your hair, pulling a stand back behind your ear and leaving goosebumps along the flesh of your scalp and causing the little hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

You lean back against him, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest ground you as you match your breathing to his. As you concentrate on inhaling, the sounds of the kitchen begin to register. You could hear the risotto gently bubbling in the pan, the popping getting closer together as the liquid reduced- telling you it was time to add a bit more stock.

"Help me add more stock to the rice and test the heat of the pan", your voice was barely above a whisper. The demon behind you responded immediately, hands gently holding your wrists leading you through the motions. The water evaporated from the pan immediately, the sharp sizzle telling you it was time to add the oil and fish.

True to his word, Alastor kept hold of you through the whole process, as soon as you told him what you needed to do based on what you heard he immediately complied. You moved through the kitchen together locked in a strange dance; the food cooking, your small whispers, and his radio static the only sounds in the small space.

You choked on your first bite, your mind immediately going back to 18-year-old you. You remembered exactly how you felt when you were announced the winner of that scholarship, the day your entire life turned around...right before it all went up in flames. You weren't even aware of the tears rolling down your cheeks until you suddenly regained vision and Alastor was right in front of you. His hands tenderly held your face as he gently used his thumbs to wipe away your tears. He stared down at you intently but with a tenderness in his eyes you had never seen before. The next thing you knew you had your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as you sobbed into his coat. Years of trauma and repressed emotions finally letting loose, you sobbed until you had nothing else left in you. All the while Alastor just held you, never saying a word and never casting any judgement.

When your tears dried and your sobs completely quieted, The Radio Demon pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted your head back to look at him, "Our final lesson is tomorrow. Think of one more meal Mon Cher."

Your hands kept running through your hair, you almost felt sick with anxiety about today's lesson. When was the last time you cried? Probably when Grandma died, and even then you hid away in the bathroom, cleaning your face at the vanity before exiting so you could be the strong, older sister that your siblings needed. And then you just fell to pieces in front of Alastor, full-on ugly cried into The Radio Demon's coat! Your face flushed in embarrassment, you'd have to apologize to him.

Time kept ticking...he always arrived right on time, but today he was officially late. Great, your emotional outburst scared him off. Your hands fisted in your hair as you clenched your teeth to swallow the frustrated growl that threatened to rip out of your throat.

Just as you were about to run out of the kitchen (again) the Overlord finally walked through the door, he was practically running at the pace he moved at. He looked a bit disheveled himself, like he was in a hurry. He's probably in a hurry to get this over with and get away from you. You shook your head, you didn't want to entertain that thought. You opened your mouth to apologize for your breakdown but he beat you to it "What is the meal today?"

"Ummm...lamb chops with garlic smashed potatoes. It was Grandma's favorite, she normally paired it with Merlot. Look Al, I'm really sorry-", you were suddenly cut off when Alastor gripped your biceps, his hold was firm but not painful. His eyes held the same intensity they did the other day.

"Do you trust me?", his eyes bored into yours, reading every micro-expression your face made as you thought of the answer.

"With my life", you murmured softly, feeling the tears spring into your eyes again. His hand came up to cup your face once more.

"Good, please remember that I will never put you in harms way. Just...trust me", you heard his fingers snap and your world entered the now-familiar darkness. It was different this time though, you stood frozen for a few seconds before you realized what was off. Your hearing also left with your vision, this is how it felt to be Billie and Stew- deaf and blind.

Alastor? Your own voice did not register in your ears; there was no way to know if you had said his name out loud at all. The only thing your ears picked up was the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins. You heard your heart rate spike as panic started to creep into your mind. Alastor!

You felt the comforting pressure of hands on your shoulders, you were so used to these hands being on you now that you were sure you'd recognize his touch in a line-up at this point. He gently pushed you down to take a seat which confused you- weren't you supposed to be cooking?

Then you felt something touch your lips, you flinched back, causing liquid to spill down your chin from the whatever it was. Long, clawed fingers gripped your jaw to force you to stay still as the liquid met your lips once more. Red wine...Merlot, just like Grandma taught you to pair with red meat. Realization finally dawned on you, your sensory assignment today was taste...and you weren't cooking but being FED.

A claw gently dipped your bottom lip, a thumb brushing over your tongue to coat it in the spice mix for the lamb. You stopped breathing completely, your mind short-circuiting at the thought of Alastor sticking his thumb into your mouth. In an act of bravery you slowly slid your tongue over the digit letting out a hum of approval at the spices that coated your palate.

A glass was slowly transferred into your hand, the Merlot serving to keep your mind occupied as he cooked. You took the time to pick each component of the wine apart- cherry, chocolate, and plum notes. A hint of blackberry and tobacco in the aroma.

Even though you were temporarily blind and deaf, you sensed when he returned to you; it was as if his static aura seeped into your skin, alerting your body to his presence even when there was no way of noticing his approach. A hand cupped your jaw and pushed on your cheeks, gently prying your mouth open. The lamb was warm, definitely medium rare based on the texture, the musky taste of the lamb paired perfectly with the garlic, salt, and pepper seasonings it was coated in. The potatoes were crispy with a warm butter flavor, sour cream and cheese used to top them. The meal felt like home- familiar and warm; memories of cooking with Grandma flashed in your head. You felt the smile that split your face, your chest vibrated with laughter that you couldn't hear.

A hand gripped yours and pulled gently, you carefully stood up and let him lead you a short distance before pulling you down again...this time onto his lap. Your heart skipped a beat, you were sitting on The Radio Demon's lap...how? why?...what was happening?

You felt your eyes dance around frantically, trying to find him in the dark, asking for him to restore your sight so you could gauge his reactions and body language to try to make some sense of what he was thinking. Then you felt them, a barely-there brush of lips against yours but definitely lips pressing to yours in a tender kiss. As quickly as they appeared they were gone; your hands traveled up along his jacket and shirt buttons before coming to a rest on his collarbones.

Suddenly, his fingers tangled into your hair and pulled your head back so that he could meet your lips more head-on. Alastor sealed this kiss with more force, holding your head so that you couldn't put any space between you two. You melted into him, parting your lips to give him access when you were caught by surprise; instead of his tongue entering your mouth a warm, full-bodied liquid tasting of cherry and chocolate poured from his mouth into yours- the Merlot. He had taken a sip of the wine and was pouring it directly into you. Your throat vibrated in a moan, his tongue quickly sweeping into your mouth once you swallowed the wine he fed you. Never had a wine tasted so good as when it came from Alastor's lips.

This dance continued a few more times, each kiss becoming more frantic and desperate with teeth gnashing together and tongues exploring every crevice of the other's mouth. You moved so you were straddling his hips, hands holding onto his lapels so he couldn't disappear on you.

The sensation of weightlessness whirled around you- his shadow magic you quickly realized. When you were grounded again your sight and hearing were restored but you didn't recognize your surroundings. You found yourself in a room of different red tones, with a large fireplace and armchairs in front of it and a desk off to the side. Beyond the typical room furnishings was a forest, the whole scene looked peculiar and distorted. How fitting for his room to resemble himself so much. You turned back to the demon whose room your inexplicably found yourself in...and he was looking back at you like you were the first meal he's seen in weeks.

Part 3 coming soon...there will be smut.

@voxslays

@ladyadrasteia666

@angeldustharmony

@milkissesx

[hy6erion]

Hii!! I love your writing, esp the last Mel one!! Also, the actual aesthetic of your profile is so cute

If it's alright to request, I'd love one with Mel x fem!reader where the reader is very femme but, maybe a bit insecure about clothes and such

Doesn't have to be a really big thing, but a little bit of comfort would be cute!!

Thank youu (　＾▽＾)!!

𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 - 𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮-𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

⇢𝐧𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ), 𝐰𝐥𝐰

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮!!! (≧◡≦) 𝐢 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!!

The dress was undeniably beautiful. Soft pink silk, delicate straps, a bodice adorned with tiny pearls that caught the light like dewdrops. The skirt flowed in gentle waves, airy and romantic, the kind of thing that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. It was the exact kind of dress you should love—because you did love dresses like this. You loved the dreamy aesthetic, the soft fabrics, the lace, the bows. You had always gravitated toward pastels, florals, frills, and anything delicate and beautiful.

And yet, standing in front of the mirror, wrapped in all that softness, you hesitated.

The fit was perfect, sculpted to your figure in a way that should have made you feel graceful and poised. But instead, there was an uneasy twist in your stomach, an irrational voice whispering that maybe you were trying too hard. That maybe, next to Mel, with her effortless elegance and commanding presence, you just looked… childish. Frivolous.

You traced the lace-trimmed neckline with your fingertips, staring at your reflection. The ribbons in your hair, the dainty heels on your feet, even the soft pink gloss on your lips—it was all exactly how you liked to present yourself. But somehow, you felt like you were playing dress-up in a way that wasn’t quite right.

A sigh, warm and amused, ghosted over your shoulder.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Mel murmured.

Before you could protest, she was there, standing behind you, her presence grounding. She was already dressed—gold jewelry glittering against her deep brown skin, a satin slip dress draped elegantly over her figure, the rich, warm hue complementing her in a way that looked completely effortless. She was regal, as always. The kind of woman who could walk into any room and own it without saying a word.

Meanwhile, you felt like a porcelain doll, pretty but fragile, overly styled and unsure.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted to wear this, but now it just feels… silly.”

Mel arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Silly?”

You shifted, struggling to put words to the unease creeping up your spine. “Like I’m trying too hard,” you confessed. “Like it looks good on the hanger, but on me, it just… I don’t know. It feels like I’m playing pretend.”

Mel studied you for a long moment, her golden gaze sharp but unreadable. Then, without a word, she reached for your hand, guiding you gently away from the mirror and toward the velvet chaise in the corner of the room.

“Sit,” she said, and you obeyed.

She knelt in front of you—an unfamiliar sight, given that Mel Medarda did not kneel for anyone—but there was nothing submissive about the way she held herself. She was deliberate, assured, in complete control. And when her fingers found your ankle, carefully undoing the strap of your delicate heel, you didn’t stop her.

“Mel—”

“Shh,” she chided, slipping the shoe off before moving to the other. “I want you to listen to me.”

You swallowed, watching as she set the heels aside, then ran her hands up your calves, tracing slow, deliberate lines up your bare legs. Not seductive, just… steadying.

“You don’t feel out of place in this because it doesn’t suit you,” she said. “You feel out of place because you think you need to be something else.” Her hands skimmed over the ruffled hem of your dress. “But you don’t.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but she silenced you with a knowing look.

“I mean it,” she continued, voice softer now. “You wear bows and pearls and lace like they were made for you. And they were.” Her hands slid up to your waist, gathering the silk in her fingers as she leaned in, brushing a kiss against your bare shoulder. “You look like a dream. And I don’t want you second-guessing that just because you think there’s a ‘better’ way to exist next to me.”

You exhaled, shoulders slumping. “It just feels like… I don’t know. You always look so effortlessly powerful, and next to you, I feel so soft. Too soft.”

Mel chuckled, warm and indulgent. “Darling, softness is not weakness.” She cupped your face then, tilting it up so you had no choice but to meet her gaze. “You command attention without saying a word, just like I do. You just do it differently.”

Your fingers curled against the silk of your skirt. “…Do you really think so?”

Mel sighed, exasperated but affectionate. “You are the most stunning woman in any room you enter, and I should not have to keep reminding you of that.”

You bit your lip, a reluctant smile forming. “I just like hearing you say it.”

Mel’s lips curled. “Of course you do.”

She rose then, extending her hand, and when you took it, she pulled you smoothly to your feet. Then, with a slow, deliberate touch, she reached up to adjust the tiny pink bow in your hair, smoothing her fingers over it with something almost reverent.

“Wear the dress,” she said simply. “And wear it because you love it. Not because you think you have to prove something.”

You studied her for a moment, the way she was looking at you—like there was no one else in the world worth looking at. Like every ruffle, every ribbon, every pearl was exactly where it should be.

And maybe, just maybe, you started to believe her.

[allur1ngs]

✮ the glasses stay on✮

tw: unedited, smut, oral--r!receiving, possessive!bada, a bit of jealous!bada, bada's a teeny bit mean (not rlly she says sorry right after), bada wears her glasses while she eats you out, bada eats it through your panties and uses your panties to get you off, pussy slapping...., panty stealing, sex in bada's office & on her desk, ass grabbing, risky sex--possibility of getting caught

a/n: ib this and this ask, this one has a bit of an intro before going straight into the smut, and once again i'm telling everyone to say ty to my wife @bebeyue bcs without her motivation i would not be writing this😚🩷

Tick tick ticking, every second that passes by winds into an endless staircase of lost time. Bada stares down at her Cartier wristwatch with a mix of distain and guilt.

The hour hand on the clock reminds her that it's five in the afternoon, and she's completed little-to-none of the high-stacking papers in front of her. Truly, it's not Bada's fault. Although she can usually sit in her office and read documents for hours on end with little difficulty--beyond the annoyance that settles in after the third or fourth hour--for some reason, today she simply can't will herself to pick up her black and gold fountain pen, and read or sign any paperwork.

"Something's off." She thinks to herself, slowly picking her gaze up from her watch and staring at the blotted black words in front of her. "There's something I can't seem to get my mind off of, but at the same time I don't know what I'm thinking about--"

Like divine and heavenly intervention, the answer comes to her in the form of a beautiful woman entering her office...you.

"Hope I'm not interrupting you." You quietly creep into Bada's office, with a smile. Your eyes, which had only swept over her quickly when you entered, now take in her full figure, which surprises you.

Rather than wearing her normal black suit jacket and tie, she's wearing a light blue button-up shirt with red and blue stripes running across it, and her hair is tied up into a ponytail braid, wisps of her long side bangs frame her face, making her face shape look sharper.

"You're looking extra good today." You comment, walking up to Bada's desk with your hands behind your back.

"Oh," your fiancée breathes, suddenly finding it hard to concentrate, Her eyes are fixated on your outfit, which is a cute blouse and a short skirt. The lack of fabric allows her to eye the creamy skin of your legs with a hungry gaze. "Thank you. I noticed it was hot in the morning so I decided to wear a looser shirt."

"Well I love it." You say cheekily. Walking around Bada's desk, she immediately scoots her chair back, making space for you to stand in front of her. "I brought you something, by the way."

Your words make Bada look up at you, to which you take your hands from behind your back and open your palm, revealing a pair of silver-framed aviator glasses.

"I couldn't find your usual glasses--"

"I broke them while out on a mission." Bada gives you a sheepish look.

"That explains it then." You laugh. "But that doesn't give you an excuse to not wear your glasses."

"I'm sorry." Bada pouts. She takes her spare glasses from the palm of your hand and puts them on, then suddenly wraps her arms around waist and pulls you into her, pushing her head into your midsection.

You let out an instinctive gasp, but place your hands on top of her head nevertheless.

"Let me make it up to you?" She mumbles into your shirt, dragging her hands from your waist to your ass, grabbing them roughly before she gives them a squeeze.

"Bada--" You exclaim, surprised at her lustful behavior. "Where is this coming from--?"

"I can't focus on my work." Your fiancée huffs. She starts to grope at your ass more, pressing her head against your stomach even more. "Especially not now that you've walked in with this short skirt."

Bada suddenly pulls her head from your midsection, but moves her hands back to your hips to keep you at an arm's length distance. She bunches up the fabric of your skirt, slowly raising it farther and farther up your thigh, until the bottom of your skirt just barely covers your panty-covered pussy.

You take in a sharp breath, your body reacting to her touch by shivering.

"Did you wear this on purpose?" Bada hums, toying with your skirt but never completely flipping it upward...yet.

"Like you said, it's hot." You whisper, placing your hands on her shoulders. "I wanted to wear something fresher."

"But did you have to wear such a short skirt?" Bada looks up at you, smirking as she finally flips up the fabric of your skirt, revealing your panties, which are noticeably damp. "Oh, what's this?" She says, her voice low and cocky. She drags her finger up and down your slit, making more slick pool against the lace of your panties.

"Bada...we shouldn't." You whisper, but your body and heart betrays you. You start to roll your hips against your fiancée's fingers, hoping to get more pressure against your pussy.

"I don't know, it looks like you want it." Bada cocks her head to the side, hearing the way your breath hitches when she moves her fingers along your panties. "Do you want it? Do you want me to fuck you here, in my office, when any of the girls could walk in and see us?"

You gasp at her words, glancing at the door instinctively...but you don't stop grinding your hips against her digits.

Bada watches you with amused dark brown eyes. She huffs a laugh, "Do you like that idea? You want to get caught by the girls and let them see how promiscuous you are?"

You hesitate to answer, far too embarrassed to speak your mind--

"Say something." Bada pulls her fingers away from pussy, staring up at you with domineering look.

"...I--I don't want to get caught." You breathe, lies staining your tongue.

"Really?" Bada's voice pitches upwards in doubt. "Are you lying to me?"

You look away from your fiancée in shame. "N--"

"You know I don't like it when you lie." Bada suddenly uses her strength to push you down on her spread legs, making you let out a surprised noise. "But either way, it doesn't matter. I won't let anyone see you like this, whether you want them to or not."

She takes ahold of your legs and makes sure they're wound tightly around her waist. She starts to drag her chair closer to her desk until your ass is against it, then she pushes you down until your back lays on the desk.

Bada looks down at you, splayed across her desk like an angel--a sinful, debauched angel--but an angel no less. Her mind, which had once been foggy immediately clears into one single, concise thought. "I need her."

Bada leans down to capture your lips in a heated, and passionate dance. It's all tongue--your teeth clash against each other as your fiancée swirls her tongue against yours. At the same time, she pulls at your shirt, only breaking away from your lips to rasp out, "Take it off," in a demanding tone.

You stare into her eyes for a split second before you sit up, taking the ends of your shirt, lifting it upward, and off of you. You're left in only a bra, which makes Bada hiss in satisfaction.

She presses another kiss on your lips, laying you back down on the desk once again, before she begins her descent downwards.

Bada moves under your skirt, and hoping to give her more access you try to remove it, but she immediately stops you.

"Don't." She says, using one of her hands to pin down both of yours. "I like it." She smiles, taking the fabric between her fingers and rubbing it. "You look so pretty in it."

You don't fight against your fiancée, you allow her to touch you through your panties, cruelly giving you the mildest amount of pleasure so that you release slick, but aren't satisfied.

"Bada, you're being mean." You huff, wrapping your legs around her head in hopes of pushing her head closer to your cunt.

"I know." She says cheekily. "But you lied to me, so I think I'm going to have some fun with you."

And have fun she does.

Bada latches her mouth onto your panty-covered pussy in a sudden surge forward. She laps her tongue up and down your slit, just barely rubbing against your clit which makes you let out a loud, blissful sigh and half moan.

She rubs her nose against your folds--the combination of glass and silver frames of her aviators are cold--the temperature difference in comparison to your hot pussy makes it clench around nothing. Bada quickly flattens her tongue as she continues to practically slobber all over your panties. Your juices and her saliva ruin the lace, making them a sopping wet mess.

You start to let out increasingly loud moans, even the simplest of Bada's touches making you cry out for more.

"You're being so loud." She mumbles into your pussy. The words rumble against your skin, which gives you muffled pleasure. "I'm starting to think you really do want us to get caught."

You toss your head to the side, looking away from her. "I-I don't."

"There you go again." Bada tuts. She pulls away from your pussy and grabs the edges of your panties. She brings both sides together, creating a thin line of lace that she uses to rub against your clit. The action gives you a delicious amount of pleasure, your mouth falling open as a loud moan leaves your lips. "Do you enjoy lying to me?"

Up and down she moves the lace, using her fingers to separate your folds so she can properly see the way your pussy clenches, pulses, and releases endless amounts of slick.

"Should I make you cum like this? Make you fucking cum all over your panties as punishment?" Her tone takes a stern pitch, the sound of it making you wetter, but at the same time nervous.

"No." You protest, shaking your head side to side. "Please--"

Bada's strong composure shatters at your whines. She can't help but wear a fond smile as she looks down at you, small tears of frustration building in the corner of your eyes. "Don't cry, honey." She cooes, placing her thumb under your eyes to wipe away to clear droplets. "I'm sorry baby, I'm not mad at you. I'll make you feel good--always."

You sniffle a bit, but start to steady your breathing--wide eyes blown as you turn your head to place a kiss on the palm of her hand, silently saying, "I know."

Bada gives you one last fond look before she drags her nose down your stomach, until she reaches that sweet spot between your legs. Mesmerized, she leans down to collect your juices, moving your panties completely to the side to give her unencumbered access to your cunt. She presses her mouth up against it, her glasses bumping into the hood pussy. You watch with bated breath as she once again flattens her hot tongue, giving you one long lick before she dives right in.

Bada moves her head side to side along with her tongue, rubbing your clit deliciously. She catches the skin of your lips and sensually pulls them, then sucks hard on your pussy like it's a lollipop.

"Bada," you somehow manage to choke through your heaving breaths.

She hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure up your spine and throughout your entire body.

"Your glasses."

"What about them?" She says, briefly breaking away from your pussy.

"You're going to break them--" looking downward, you would have been able to see your fiancée is staring at you through the hoods of her eyes--her gaze is unwavering, confident, and hypnotic.

But you can't see her eyes because her silver aviator glasses are foggy. They're entirely marked with perspiration, Bada's hot breaths catching against the sticky glass and clinging to it like a lifeline.

Still, as alluring and sensual that image is, the nail in the coffin is the globs of your juices dripping from the edge of Bada's glasses. They come together around the middle of the frames until they make a large dot, then drop down onto your fiancée's pink lips, where she quickly darts her tongue out to lick your saccharine slick into her mouth.

"The glasses stay on." She asserts, giving you one last, unseeable look before she attaches her lips onto your pussy again.

It's ridiculous, really. If you're unable to see Bada's eyes through her glasses, then they were entirely useless sitting on the bridge of her nose--she most likely couldn't even see through them.

But nevertheless, she fucks her tongue into you, drives it in and out of your hole, licks and swirls your clit into her mouth until you're screaming in pleasure, her glasses foggy dripping with your essence as she makes you cum.

Sucking on you one last time, Bada finally pulls away at the sound of your broken whines. She lets out a long breath, a smile instantly forming on her lips as she uses the back of her hand to wipe away the remnants of your orgasm from her lips. She licks it all up like it's a valuable liquid--the elixir of life.

Only then does she take her glasses off--well, she hangs them from the unbuttoned collar of her shirt--as she leans forward, giving your cunt an affectionate slap.

You let out a cute "ouch!" then glare at your fiancée, who only laughs in response.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." She says sweetly.

"I think you could have." You huff, moving to sit up from Bada's desk.

She chuckles under her breath, before quickly taking ahold of your panties and slipping them off your legs. "Thank you for that." She grins. "I think I can finally focus."

You can't help but laugh as well, "Okay, I'll get going then." You hold out your hand and give Bada an expectant look.

She only stares at you with a cheeky smile. "What?"

You furrow your eyebrows and push out your hand further. "My panties?"

"Oh, these?" Bada holds up your lace panties, her saliva and a mixture of your cum making it wad together into a dripping mess. "I think I'll keep them." She suddenly shoves them into her pocket, completely unbothered by the fact that they'll surely dampen the fabric.

"Bada!" You exclaim, your mouth falling open in shock.

"What, you wanted to wear them?" She smirks. "They're ruined." Taking a step forward, she looms over your figure still perched on her desk, and leans in to speak right into the shell of your ear. "Come find me in a few hours after I've finished my work, and maybe I'll think about giving them back."

taglist:

@aericrys, @somerandomtinyperson, @bluebada, @dallaji, @luvjanexx, @hyejuwu, @diana-rose-25, @jjlovesbada, @prilux, @youknow1234, @fae-the-wanderer, @mightymyo, @aein-tings, @badasgirlfriend, @onlyyou-metanoia, @wiselight, @badasoneandonly @multiliker, @badabonita, @randomhoex, @justaharmlesspotat0, @sporadicfacebasement, @4bada, @seungxstar, @urlovebot, @neuftaeng, @hyunsllvr, @aixicl, @itzmy, @badasgff, @mikaleialt, @tthe-dark-ssoul, @m0r0s1111, @phoxey, @taruusmoon, @lovebtsforever24, @moonsvrse

(if your name is crossed out i wasn't able to to tag you)

want to join the taglist? send me a message or comment saying you'd like to be on it (or be removed from it), and i'll do so immediately!

[bunny-hwa]

Popular, Boy

☆05: The first fracture.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 10,5k

(sorry, lot of important things)

Summary: Mike's return brings back old wounds, family cruelty, and impossible expectations. Amidst it all, you find solance on Hongjoong.

But alliances form, and the game shifts... you have no idea what's coming.

Warnings: Verbal abuse, family being mean, manipulation, power dynamics, fluff, suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆04 ☆06:

The living room of the Clarke residence gleams with quiet opulence. Everything is meticulously arranged—vases of freshly cut lilies, trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres, and glasses of sparkling champagne.

Your mother flutters around, checking every last detail, while your father adjusts his tie for the third time.

You sit stiffly on the cream leather sofa, arms crossed. Your outfit—an expertly styled designer ensemble of a short skirt, matching crop top, cropped jacket, and high boots—screams confidence, but your body language betrays your discomfort.

Dann lingers near the edge of the room, notebook in hand, trying to blend in with the staff. She glances between you and your parents, who seem almost giddy with anticipation.

“He’ll be here any moment.” The elegant woman says, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on her skirt.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway cuts through the room. The staff lined up near the entrance, their postures straight and practiced. But you, you don't move.

The front door opens, and Mike strides in, flanked by a crisp breeze. He’s tall and impeccably dressed, his tailored suit hugging his broad shoulders perfectly. His dark hair is slicked back, and his smile is radiant.

“Mike!” Your mother exclaims, rushing to embrace him.

“Mom,” Mike says warmly, wrapping her in a hug “It’s good to be home.”

Your father steps forward, shaking Mike’s hand firmly “Welcome back, son. You’ve been missed.”

Mike turns his charm on the staff next, shaking hands and thanking them for keeping the house in order. He’s polite, almost disarmingly so, his every word and gesture oozing charisma.

Dann watches in awe. She’s heard about Mike because of Seonghwa—YN’s perfect older brother—but seeing him in person is something else entirely. He’s like a prince stepping out of a storybook, all confidence and charm.

“YN,” He says, his tone casual but pointed “You’re quiet.”

Your jaw tightens, but you force a smile “Welcome back.”

There’s no embrace, no handshake. Just those two words, cold and clipped. The air between you hums with unspoken tension, and Dann notices the flicker of amusement in Mike’s eyes.

“Thank you, little sister,” Mike says, his tone condescending despite the warm words “It’s good to see you.” His gaze flicks over your outfit, and his smile tilts “You’ve certainly… embraced your personal style. Very bold, YN.”

“Speaking of outfits,” Your mother interjects, her tone brisk, “Sweetie, I expect you to wear the dress I picked out for you tonight. This isn’t just any dinner, it’s a celebration for Mike’s return, and you need to look the part.”

You scoff, crossing your legs “I think I’m dressed just fine.”

Mike’s gaze lingers on your short skirt and boots, his smirk widening “Oh, you’re definitely making a statement. Not sure it’s the one family would approve of, though.”

You shoot him a glare “Thanks for the unsolicited advice, brother.”

The tension between you two is palpable, and Dann feels caught in the crossfire. To her, Mike seems perfect—charming, kind, and everything you aren't. But the sharpness in your voice and the smugness in Mike’s eyes tell a different story.

“Let’s not bicker,” Your father says quickly, trying to diffuse the moment “Tonight is a family celebration. Son, go get some rest before dinner. Darling, you’ll change, won’t you?”

You don't answer, your lips pressing into a thin line.

“Of course she will,” The tallest says, his tone dripping with condescension “YN always knows how to make an impression.”

As your parents and staff begin leaving the room, Mike lags behind for a moment, catching your eye.

“Still bratty, I see,” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Still idiot, I see.” You snap back under your breath.

Dann catches the exchange, her stomach twisting. There’s more to this ‘perfect brother’ than meets the eye, she realizes, but for now, she pushes the thought aside and trails after the staff, notebook in hand.

Something feels… off.

✮ ⋆

The grand dining room sparkles under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. Every corner of Clarke’s mansion is dressed to perfection, as though the house itself is eager to impress Mike upon his long-awaited return.

The scent of roasted lamb and decadent desserts fills the air, mingling with the low hum of polite conversation.

You sit at the far end of the polished mahogany table, fingers tapping against your wine glass. You're dressed immaculately in a tailored navy dress that your mother picked out for the occasion. Everyone around you gushes over Mike’s accomplishments—the glowing pride of the family.

“Three years, and you’ve outdone yourself, Mike,” Your grandfather says, beaming “A master’s degree from Germany, and already planning your next move. We couldn’t be prouder.”

Mike, seated comfortably at the head of the table like a king, offers a modest shrug, though the grin on his face betrays his satisfaction.

“It’s been a long journey, but worth it. I just want to make sure I uphold the family name.” He gives you a look before he smiles.

Your jaw tightens. You know what’s coming next.

“YN.” Your aunt, Silvia, chimes in, turning to you with a saccharine smile “You’re still in school, right? How’s the business program treating you?”

Fucking business program, you hate it.

You force a smile, your heart racing “It’s… going well. Challenging, but rewarding.”

Mike chuckles, drawing all eyes back to him “Challenging? Business? Come on, YN. You’ve been in undergrad for what, three years now? I could teach you the basics in a week.”

The table erupts into polite laughter, but your cheeks burn. You know the jab isn’t just playful—it’s calculated, meant to belittle you.

“Everyone can go at their own pace and that's okay.” You say, voice sharp enough to make your mother glance at you warningly.

Mike leans back in his chair, swirling his wine “It’s not about pace, YN. It’s about discipline. Focus. Something you’ve always struggled with.”

“That's true, Mikey!” One of the younger cousins laughs “I'm just in my first year of college and it's all too easy, it's not ‘challenging’ as YN says.”

“Maybe the career is only made for men, we are the ones who dominate business in companies.” Your father's brother, William, comments by drinking his wine elegantly.

Everyone laughs at his sexist comment.

"Don't say that, honey!" His wife slaps his arm with a giggle "Your daughter studies the same thing."

"But my daughter is smart and focused." He blurts out with mockery as he gives you a look, and you save yourself the urge to roll your eyes.

"YN is also focused, she has good grades." Your mother says sweetly, defending you.

"But 'good' is not enough, you always have to strive for perfection and not settle for mediocre grades." Mike adds with a shrug.

And the whole table laughs like it's the funniest joke they've ever heard. Your mother shakes her head disapprovingly but says nothing.

Your father clears his throat, trying to shift the conversation, but the damage is done. Mike’s words hang in the air.

Your hands curl into fists under the table. You’ve had enough.

“You always know how to make someone feel bad.” You mutter, just loud enough for Mike to hear.

“What did you say?” He asks, his tone faux-innocent, leaning forward slightly.

“Enough, kids.” Your mother says with an awkward smile.

But Mike isn’t done. He leans closer, his voice low and cutting “You’re a disappointment, YN. You always have been. Pretending to study business when you’re off chasing some frivolous dream.”

You hold your breath when you hear that, that fucking idiot "You don't know anything."

“Fashion design, really? What are you going to do with that, sew costumes for kids’ plays?”

Your parents look at Mike in terror. The topic of your study preferences was always private, so that the rest of the family wouldn't gossip and intrude.

Yes, your parents knew and know about your passion for fashion, since you were a child your dream was to be a designer and create your own brand, but due to the family business they forced you to study business management, and you had to accept without being able to reproach.

Mike knew it too, and still decided to talk.

The table falls silent, and your chest tightens when everyone looks at you with surprise and mockery.

Without noticing, your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I—excuse me.” You stammer, pushing your chair back abruptly.

Your mother calls after you, but you are already halfway to the door. Heels click against the marble floor as you grab your car keys and storm out of the house.

You don't know where you’re going until you’re halfway across town, your phone clutched in your trembling hand. The only person who crosses your mind is Hongjoong, you need Hongjoong right now.

You don't text or call him, you don't need to. You know he’ll be home.

When you reach his house, you knock on the door, heart pounding as you wait.

Hongjoong answers, his hair disheveled and his face scrunched in confusion.

“YN?”

“Can I come in?” You ask, your voice breaking.

Hongjoong watches as you step inside, the soft click of your heels on the polished floor breaking the quiet of the hallway.

Your dress gleams faintly under the light, the kind of fabric and craftsmanship that scream exclusivity. The subtle sheen of your makeup and the designer heels complete the look, making you seem almost out of place in the cozy, modest home.

His heart clenches. He doesn’t ask questions, not yet. Instead, he offers a small, reassuring smile.

“Come in, pretty.” From the dining room, the clinking of cutlery and quiet conversation filters through. Hongjoong glances toward it, hesitating “Uh… we’re having dinner. My parents are home.”

You straighten, brushing your hair away as if steeling yourself “Okay”

He nods and leads you to the dining room. His parents, mid-conversation, look up as you enter.

“Oh.. who’s this beautiful lady?”

You smile shyly at her, and Hongjoong puts his hand on your bare shoulder.

“Mom, Dad,” He says, clearing his throat “This is YN.”

His parents exchange a look, surprise flashing in their eyes. Hongjoong’s mother, a petite woman with a kind face, recovers first.

“YN, it’s nice to meet you. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

You smile politely, your usual sharpness softened “If it’s not too much trouble, thank you.”

“No trouble at all.” His father says, though his gaze lingers briefly on your dress, shoes, even your watch—items that likely cost more than their monthly mortgage.

You glide into the chair with practiced elegance, every movement drawing attention. The table is set simply—a far cry from the elaborate spreads you’re used to—but something about the simplicity feels oddly grounding.

Hongjoong pulls out the chair next to yours, sitting close but not too close. His parents exchange another glance before his mother breaks the silence.

“So, YN, how do you and Hongjoong know each other?”

Your posture stiffens slightly, and Hongjoong tenses, too. If only they knew how you met and the things that Hongjoong has done under your orders and all those humiliations, they would surely kick you out.

You both share a fleeting glance, silently agreeing to tread carefully.

“We’re in the same business program.” Hongjoong says, his voice steady.

You nod, your hands resting lightly on the table “Yes, we’ve worked on a few projects together. Joong’s very… dedicated.”

Hongjoong’s parents smile, though his father’s expression is tinged with curiosity at the way you call his son.

“That’s wonderful,” He says “It’s good to see you making connections, Hongjoong. Your school’s not an easy one to get into.”

You smile faintly, but there’s an underlying tension “It’s very competitive.” You add.

The pretty woman serves the meal—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a crisp salad. The aroma is inviting, but you hesitate for a moment, the simple fare so unlike the complex, perfectly plated dishes you’re accustomed to.

As you eat, Hongjoong’s father can’t help but notice the way you hold the fork, the delicate way you cut the food.

Very elegant and sophisticated.

“So, YN,” He says, his tone conversational but probing “You must be quite driven to be studying at such a prestigious school.”

You pause, your fork halting mid-air “I suppose so. It’s… a good school.”

Again, Hongjoong’s parents share a glance, clearly trying to reconcile the poised, elegant girl in front of them with their down-to-earth son.

“Did you always want to study business?” The female asks gently.

Your hand tightens on the fork, but your smile remains “It's the common choice in my family.”

You say vaguely, your voice betraying none of the resentment you feel. Hongjoong, noticing the slight tension in your posture, jumps in.

“YN’s really good at presentations.” He tries to shift the conversation “She knows how to keep everyone attentive.”

The praise makes you glance at him, your expression softening “And he’s increrible in everythig.” You add a rare note of warmth in your voice.

As the meal winds down, you find yourself surprisingly at ease. The food, while simple, is filling and comforting. The warmth of the room, the unpretentious conversation—it feels like a stark contrast to the cold, high-stakes environment you’re used to.

“You’re welcome here anytime.” Hongjoong’s mother says as they finish, her smile is genuine.

You look at her, and for the first time in a long while, you feel the ache in your chest ease just a little.

“Thank you… that means a lot.”

As Hongjoonng leads you to the living room, you sink into the sofa, the tension in your shoulders finally dissipating.

“Thank you.”

Hongjoong sits beside you, close but respectful “Anytime, pretty.”

After a quiet moment, Hongjoong decides to speak again.

“YN, you don’t have to tell me everything, but… something’s bothering you. Was it your brother? The dinner?”

Your head tilts back, staring at the ceiling as if trying to collect yourself before responding. Your thoughts race, but you don't know how to express them.

You've always been the type of person who keeps your concerns and problems to yourself, not wanting to be a nuisance to others with your stuff. But Hongjoong gives you enough peace of mind to want to tell him a thousand things.

Finally, you sigh, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders.

“It was just… the same thing.” You sigh again “My family acting like Mike is perfect. It’s like nothing I do is ever good enough for them. It’s always ‘Mike this, Mike that,’ and I…” You trail off, your throat tightening “I hate it.”

Hongjoong’s heart twinges with sympathy, and he shifts closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to prove anything to them, YN. You’re incredible the way you are. You don’t need to be him. You’re your own person.”

You smile faintly but it doesn’t reach your eyes “I don’t even know who I am sometimes,” You admit softly “I pretend to be what they want me to be, but I hate it. I hate pretending.”

He leans in slightly, his hand moving from your shoulder to gently cup your face, lifting it so you meet his gaze. His voice is tender, but firm.

“Pretty, you don’t have to pretend. You’re not alone in this, okay? You don’t have to carry this burden by yourself. I’m here for you. I promised you I'd do anything for you, remember?”

You laugh a little knowing what he means, but you know that he didn't promise to do anything just because it's you. He did it because he wanted to come out of the shadows, to be popular.

Your eyes shimmer with unspoken emotion as you watch him, lips parting slightly as if to speak but then closing again. The vulnerability in your gaze makes his heart ache, and without thinking, he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

The moment is warm, comforting, and safe. It’s like nothing else in the world matters right now.

Just then, in the kitchen, Hongjoong’s mother steps back into the shadows, her heart aching for you. She had heard everything—the quiet, broken words, the tenderness between the two. And in that moment, she sees beyond the image you project.

Beneath the designer clothes, the perfect façade, you’re just a girl, trying to navigate the weight of your family’s expectations.

Her heart aches with a kind of pity for you who has everything and yet, nothing at all. She quietly wipes a stray tear from her cheek, then retreats further into the kitchen, giving you the space you need.

Your voice is almost lost in the soft quiet of the room as you look at him once more, a gentle smile beginning to form.

“Thank you, Joongie.” You whisper, eyes reflecting the depth of your unspoken gratitude.

Hongjoong smiles back, his heart full “Always, pretty. Always.”

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

✮ ⋆

The quiet of the house wraps around you as you step inside, the weight of the night still lingering in your bones. It’s late—almost twelve PM—and the house is eerily silent. No one is waiting for you in the hallway.

The fancy dinner is long over, and you haven't bothered to text them to let them know where you were, knowing they wouldn’t care.

You take off your heels, the cool hardwood of the floor brushing against your feet, and walk slowly into the living room.

There, sitting on the couch with his back straight and arms crossed, is Mike.

“Look who finally decided to come back,” He says, his tone as sharp as a knife “Having a little fun, were we? How nice of you to finally come home.”

Your chest tightens as you stop in the doorway. You haven't seen him like this in a while—his arrogance and superiority seem to grow with every moment he’s home. His sharp gaze cuts through you like a blade, but you stand tall, trying to control the fluttering in your stomach.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He sneers, his eyes narrowing as he stands “You think you can just walk in late after disappearing for hours? You’re pathetic.”

Your heart sinks, but you keep a neutral expression “I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“Wait?” Mike scoffs, pacing in front of you “You think I care about waiting? I care about you making a fool of yourself in front of the family. You’ve always been a brat, and you still haven’t learned. You’re not a child anymore, YN. You need to grow up.”

Every word he spits feels like venom, but you know better than to show weakness. You know what he’s doing—tearing you down, making you feel small.

This isn’t new. This is just who he is.

“I’m just trying to live my life, Mike.”

Mike pauses, his smirk widening as he leans closer “Live your life? You’ve been living in a fantasy, little one. You think you can just pretend everything’s fine? Everyone thinks you’re studying business because you'll be part of Dad's company, but you never really think about doing it. You’ve been a joke this whole time. You’re nothing like me. You’ll never be good enough.”

You take the words in, letting them sink in as you have done for so many years. It’s painful, but you know how to endure it. You know how to ignore the voice inside telling you you’re not worthless, that you’re more than what he says.

But tonight, it feels heavier.

“I don’t know why Mom and Dad think you’re this perfect little angel.” You say with mockery, looking him up and down.

He laughs bitterly “Because I am perfect. I’ve done everything right. I’m successful. I’m smart. And unlike you, I know how to get what I want. They should be proud of me. But you, YN? You’re just a spoiled child who’s going to get everything handed to her. And still, you fail. You’ll never be me.”

Your fists clench at your sides, but you don't respond. Instead, you bite your lip, trying to keep your composure. The words are harsh, but you’ve heard them all before. He’s always been the same—deceptively charming and cruel when it matters most.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you,” You say quietly, Hongjoong's sweet words resonate in your mind “It's just… I don't want to be like you.”

Mike looks down at you with disdain, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighs.

“Not even in your dreams could you be like me, pathetic thing.”

You can’t help the flare of anger that rises in your chest at his words, but you suppress it quickly.

Without saying another word, you turn and walk toward the stairs.

From the shadows of the hallway, Dann, who had been listening from the hallway leading to the staff rooms, feels a tightness in her chest. She’s overheard everything, and the way Mike speaks to you… it makes her happy.

Finally someone is taming you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next few days feel like a strange game of charades to you, your home transformed by the presence of your brother. It’s almost like he’s a perfect guest who’s come to stay indefinitely—charming, polite, and always acting like he’s the model son.

He plays the part well, and even the staff, including Dann, are entranced by his manners and wealth. You watch it all from the sidelines, a bitter knot tightening in your chest every time her brother flashes that smile, every time your parents look at him with eyes full of admiration.

And then there’s Dann. She continues her errands around the house, doing what you ask, but now there's an air of something different. She’s captivated by Mike’s presence, stealing glances at him whenever he’s nearby.

She doesn’t know much about him, but the way he carries himself—with that effortless confidence and charm—makes her heart skip.

One afternoon, Dann is walking through the hallway, balancing a tray of snacks for you. As she turns a corner, she almost runs straight into Mike.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Dann stammers, gripping the tray tightly to steady it.

Mike catches the edge of the tray, steadying it with ease “No harm done,” He says with a kind smile. His eyes flick to the contents “For me?”

Dann blinks, flustered “Uh… no, for—uh—someone else.”

“Pity,” Mike teases lightly “But still, it’s impressive. Not everyone takes the time to look after others like this. What’s your name?”

“Dann,” She manages, her cheeks heating.

“Dann,” He repeats, his tone smooth, as if committing it to memory “A beautiful name for a beautiful soul.”

Her breath catches “I-I should go. This is for—”

He raises a hand, cutting her off gently “No need to rush. Take a moment to breathe. You deserve it.”

His smile deepens, and for a moment, Dann feels like she’s the only person in the room. She mutters a shy thank-you and hurries past him, her heart pounding.

Mike watches her go, his expression unreadable. Then, as he turns back toward the study, he chuckles to himself, amused by how easily people fall for a kind word and a smile.

Later, when Dann brings you the tray, Dann’s unusually quiet, and you notice her flushed cheeks and the faint smile she tries to hide.

“What’s with you?” You ask sharply, taking the tray.

“Nothing,” Dann says quickly, shaking her head.

You narrow your eyes “Let me guess—my brother said something to you?” Dann’s face goes red, betraying her “Unbelievable,” You mutter under your breath, setting the tray down “He’s not what you think, Dann.”

Dann hesitates, confused “He’s… he’s nice.”

You let out a bitter laugh “Sure, he’s nice. Keep believing that.”

Dann doesn’t respond, her mind too wrapped up in replaying Mike’s words. To her, he was kind and genuine, a stark contrast to your sharp edges.

You, watching her, feel your frustration boil over. You know your brother’s game too well, and know exactly what he’s doing. But you also know trying to warn someone like Dann would be pointless.

For now, you let it go, biting your tongue as the tension simmers beneath the surface.

✮ ⋆

The next few days, Mike couldn’t help but notice Dann more often. She moved through the house quietly, always carrying something or running an errand.

At first, he assumed she was just part of the household staff, but something about her demeanor didn’t quite fit. She seemed too young, too out of place among the polished, uniformed employees.

One afternoon, as he lounged in the garden sipping coffee, he spotted Dann hurrying across the lawn with a pile of books. He called out to her.

“Hey, Dann!”

She froze mid-step, the books wobbling precariously in her arms. Turning slowly, she offers a hesitant smile.

“Yes, sir?”

Mike winces at the formality. “No need for that. Just Mike is fine.” He gestures to a nearby chair “Come, sit for a moment. Those books won’t run away.”

Dann hesitates, glancing back toward the house “I… I really should get these to—”

“Sit,” Mike insists gently, flashing the same disarming smile he used with everyone “I’m curious about you.”

She reluctantly obeys, setting the books down on a nearby table before perching nervously on the edge of the chair.

“So, Dann,” He begins, leaning forward slightly “I’ve noticed you’re always running around doing things. Are you part of the staff here?”

Dann’s eyes widen “No! I mean—” She fidgeted with her hands “I’m not a staff. I’m… I’m the maid’s daughter.”

“The maid’s daughter?” He echoes, raising a brow. He studies her closely, sensing there is more to the story “Then why are you always doing errands?”

Dann hesitates, clearly uncomfortable. Finally, she sighs, her shoulders slumping. She doesn't think anything will happen if she tells him, he is very kind and understanding.

“It’s because of miss YN.”

“Miss YN?” He repeats with mock.

“She… she ordered me to work for her,” Dann admits, her voice dropping to a whisper. “At a party I accidentally spilled my drink on her dress...”

Mike tilts his head, his smile fading slightly “She ordered you to work for her? What dress?”

“It's a pretty expensive one… I heard her mention something like Chanel.” She explains quickly “She told me to choose between paying for the cost of the dress with money or with small tasks. I don't have the money to pay for the dress, so I’ve been helping her out with errands.”

Mike leans back in his chair, processing this information. A slow smile spread across his face, though there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes.

“So, let me get this straight. YN, my little sister, is making you work off the cost of a dress?” Dann nods, glancing down at her hands. Mike lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head “How long have you worked for her?”

“Maybe, a month ago.”

“Well, Dann, you’ve given me a lot to think about.” Before she can respond, he stands, brushing invisible lint from his pants “Better get back to your books. Wouldn’t want YN to get upset.”

Dann nods quickly, standing to retrieve the books. As she hurries away, Mike watches her go, his expression unreadable.

“Interesting,” He murmurs to himself, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The grand dining room gleamed with elegance, the long table lined with intricate floral arrangements and flickering candlelight. You sit at one end, your mother to your left, and Mike across from you. Your father presides at the head of the table, quietly savoring his wine.

In the shadows of the kitchen doorway, part of the chef’s staff, is there observing the scene as the family begin their meal.

“Sweetie, When will Hongjoong come? It's been more than a week since I saw him.” She smiles kindly while sipping from her cup “Such a lovely boy.”

You smile at the mention of the guy who has been occupying your thoughts lately.

"Tomorrow we have to do an essay for business management class, so he is coming."

Your mom claps her hands with enthusiasm "Amazing! I would love to say hello."

You laugh a little at her sigh, it seems that she likes it more than you would like to admit.

Mike raises an eyebrow in confusion, who the fuck are they talking about?

“Who’s Hongjoong?”

“YN’s close friend. He’s been here many times.” Your mom responds right away “He’s polite, respectful, and always so helpful. And he’s clever, too. I remember when they were working on that literature project. He explained everything to me when I asked.”

Mike smiles mockingly, doing a project together? You, working with someone... It's silly, to Mike this sounds like you taking advantage of a nerd. But his mother is a ray of light, she has no idea.

“I'm sure it's your personal nerd, doing your homework and that, right?”

And he's all right, but that was before everything you went through together during this time.

“Of course not.”

Mike leans back, grinning “No? So why does he always do work with you? Don't you have more friends who want to do projects with you?”

Your mother gets a little upset hearing that “That’s enough, Mike. Hongjoong is a good influence on YN. You could stand to meet him before passing judgment.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s delightful. Just the kind of guy to fit right in at the nerd club.”

“Son, that’s enough. You haven’t even met the boy. Give him a chance before making assumptions.” This time your father says.

“Whatever. But I’m curious… What is his last name? Is his family part of a company or why are you defending him so much?" He asks with mockery.

You glare at him, your jaw clenches “That doesn't matter Mike, don't meddle in my business.”

“Mike, that's enough. I'm not going to allow you to talk like that about a boy as cute as Hongjoong." For the first time your mother speaks seriously to him.

“Sure…”

“Let's change the subject. Mike, you have to prepare your speech when you take your position at the company. The party will take place next week.” Then he looks at you, "You can invite Hongjoong and your other friends, my dear."

You nod while your mother applauds happily again, but Mike only rolls his eyes.

“Instead of focusing on your ‘friends’, you should catch up with college.”

“Mike.” Your father warns him.

“Also, what about that girl running up and down like her personal servant?” He asks with false curiosity.

Your father clears his throat, his gaze landing on Mike “Dann working for YN was agreed upon by us. She’s working for her to settle her debt. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

“Agreed upon by you, maybe,” Your mother interjects, her voice softer but laced with unease. She doesn’t look up, carefully slicing her steak as if her plate demands all her attention “I still think it’s a bit... unorthodox, forcing a young girl into such an arrangement. Just an apology and letting it go would’ve been more appropriate.”

Your father frowns “And what about the consequences of such acts, my love? This way, everyone benefits. Dann gets experience, YN gets help, and the debt is paid.”

Mike’s smirk widens as he watches the exchange, clearly enjoying the tension.

“Experience, huh? Interesting choice of words for running errands and taking verbal beatings.”

“Mike, don’t say that!” Your mother snaps, finally looking up “The staff could misunderstand it.” She murmurs with panic.

“What?” He holds up his hands, feigning innocence “I’m just saying, let’s not sugarcoat it. We all know YN isn’t exactly... sweet.”

You grip your fork tightly, the metal digging into your palm “Just shut your mouth and eat, Mike. Nobody asked for your opinion.”

“YN,” Your father warns, his tone sharp.

Mike chuckles, ignoring him “See, little Dann must be so scared of her.”

Your mother sighs heavily, setting down her knife and fork “Enough of this. We’re not discussing Dann or her situation any further. It’s settled.”

But the older son isn’t done. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze locking with yours.

“You should be careful, YN. People like Dann have limits. Push her too far, and she might push back. Harder than you expect.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, the table falls silent. Your father glares at Mike, but he doesn’t say anything. Your mother busies herself with her glass of wine, avoiding your gaze.

You stand abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor “If we’re done with this delightful family bonding session, I’ll be going now.”

As you leave the dining room, your mother’s voice follows you, tired and resigned “Sweetie, wait—”

But you don’t stop. Mike’s words echo in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if there’s truth in them.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Hongjoong!”

Your mother’s enthusiastic voice fills the grand hallway as the front door swings open to reveal Homgjoong, standing there with his usual boyish grin.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Clarke!” He says, matching her energy. His warm tone makes her giggle in delight.

“She’s upstairs,” Your mother replies, stepping aside to let him in “She mentioned something about working on an essay. You two have been quite busy with school, haven’t you?”

He nods, the picture of politeness “Yes, ma’am. Lots of group projects lately.”

From the top of the grand staircase, Mike’s deep voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“Is this him?” His gaze analyze Hongjoong up and down. His outfit was very different from what Mike expected from a nerd.

Of course the glasses scream ‘nerd’ in all the letters, but the denim jacket over a gray turtleneck shirt with an abstract print, black cargo pants, a gray beanie on his head, and a black crossbody bag complete the look…

Mike didn't know that nerds had evolved during these three years, that now they can mix with others and you wouldn't know they’re a freak..

Hongjoong’s gaze snaps upward, and your brother appears, descending the staircase with a calm but predatory aura. His tailored suit and sharp features radiate authority, the kind that seems designed to make people feel small.

“Yes, this is Hongjoong,” Your mother chimes in, her cheerful tone unwavering.

Hongjoong extends a hand, smiling “Nice to meet you.”

Mike eyes the hand for a moment before taking it. His grip is firm—calculated, even.

“So, you’re the charity case,” He says smoothly, his words laced with a thinly veiled insult.

Hongjoong’s smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers “I guess you could say I’m lucky to have YN as a friend.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk “Friend?”

The tension is palpable, but before it can escalate, your mother interjects “Mike, be nice. Hongjoong is here to help your sister with schoolwork. Don’t scare him off.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mike replies, though the gleam in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Just then, you appear at the top of the staircase, dressed casually but impeccably as always.

“Joong,” You call, your voice warm, though your eyes flick to Mike in a silent warning.

Hongjoong visibly relaxes at the sight of you “Hey, YN.”

You make your way down, shooting a quick glare at your brother before slipping your arm through Hongjoong’s.

“We’ll be in the study room.” You say pointedly, guiding him away.

Mike watches the two of you go, a bemused expression on his face.

✮ ⋆

The study is bathed in the soft afternoon light streaming through the large windows. Papers and books are spread across the table, though most of it remains untouched.

Hongjoong sits comfortably in the large red sofa, pen twirling absentmindedly between his fingers as he watches you pace the room, clearly distracted.

“Are we actually going to work on this essay,” He teases lightly, “Or are you going to wear a hole in the floor?”

You pause mid-step, shooting him a mock glare “Excuse me for needing to think while I walk.”

Hongjoong chuckles, setting his pen down “Thinking about the essay, or something else?”

You sigh and drop into the seat opposite him “Both, maybe.”

For a moment, there’s silence as you both glance at the notes in front of you. Hongjoong flips through the pages absentmindedly before he leans back and studies you.

“You know,” He starts “This is kind of funny.”

“Uh?”

He smirks “The fact that we’re doing an essay on entrepreneurship, and I remember you telling my parents you’re studying business just because it’s a common choice in your family.”

You blink, caught off guard “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” He says, his tone softening “It was hard to miss how uncomfortable you looked when they asked about it.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” You lie, crossing your arms.

Hongjoong tilts his head, giving you a knowing look “Pretty…”

You sigh, dropping the act “Fine. I was uncomfortable. Happy?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table “Not really. I mean, it’s not every day you see Miss pretty YN Clarke—queen bee of the school—looking out of her element. What was that about, anyway?”

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to the notebook in front of you. After a long pause, you speak, your voice quieter than usual.

“I didn’t choose to study business. My parents chose for me.”

He blinks, taken aback “Seriously? But I thought you—”

“Thought I was passionate about business?” You interrupt with a bitter laugh “No. I wanted to study fashion design.”

“Fashion design?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows shot up, his curiosity piqued “You? The future CEO of Clarke Enterprises wanted to design clothes?”

And he can see your potential. You have impeccable taste in fashion, not just in the way you always dress, but also in how you can identify others' styles just by looking at them. And he’s a witness to it—whenever he went shopping with you, you always picked things that matched the style he chose after his research on the subject. Your sense of fashion was enviable.

“Laugh it up,” You mutter, though there’s no heat in your tone.

“I’m not laughing,” Hongjoong assures you. “I’m just surprised. You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“Why would I?” You snap, but your irritation isn’t directed at him “It’s not like it matters. My parents made it clear that ‘passion projects’ don’t pay the bills. Clarke family members study business. That’s just how it is.”

Hongjoong frowns, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by concern. “That doesn’t sound fair.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalant tone. “Life isn’t fair, Joong. Besides, it’s not like I had a choice. My father practically enrolled me himself. My mother didn’t say much, but she didn’t exactly fight for me, either.”

He watches you carefully, his brows furrowed “Do you... regret it?”

“Every day,” You admit quietly “But regret doesn’t change anything. My life’s been mapped out for me since the day I was born. I just… deal with it.”

The silence that follows feels heavy, and for a moment, neither of you knows what to say. Finally, Hongjoong breaks it.

“YN… you don’t have to be what they want you to be.”

You scoff, though his sincerity tugs at something deep inside you “You don’t get it, my family isn’t like yours. I can’t just decide to go against them and do what I want. It’s not that simple.”

Hongjoong leans forward, his voice steady and kind “Maybe it’s not simple. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

You look at him, surprised by the determination in his eyes “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“Because I hate seeing you like this,” He admits “You’re always so confident, so in control. But when you talk about this, it’s like… you’re not yourself.”

You swallow hard, his words hitting closer to home than you’d like to admit.

“I’m just saying,” He continues, his tone gentler now “if you ever want to talk about it, or, you know, vent or anything, I’m here.”

A small, genuine smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks, Joongie.”

“Anytime,” He says with a grin. Then, with a playful tone, he adds “Now, can we actually write this essay? Because I’m not about to fail this class just because my partner has a secret dream of designing couture.”

You roll your eyes, but for the first time that day, you feel a little lighter “Fine. Let’s get to work.”

As the two of you finally turn your attention to the assignment, you can’t help but glance at Hongjoong. For all his flaws, he has a way of making you feel like, just maybe, you don’t have to be alone in this.

And that makes you feel happy and secure.

A couple of minutes later—ten minutes to be exact— starting the draft of your essays, you and Hongjoong are supposedly working, but your proximity makes it clear that focus is not the priority. Papers and pens are scattered across the desk, completely forgotten.

You start talking about other stuff until you settle yourself on his lap, and his hands resting on your thighs as he gazes up at you, clearly captivated.

“You really shouldn’t let him get to you.” Hongjoong says softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Once again the topic of your annoying brother.

You smirk, trailing a finger along his jawline “Mike gets to everyone. It’s his specialty.”

Hongjoong’s hand tightens slightly on your leg “Well, not to me.”

You lean closer, your faces mere inches apart “Good.” You whisper before kissing him.

The moment is charged, but neither of you notices the shadow just outside the door.

Dann stands there, hidden in the hallway, her heart sinking as she watches the scene unfold. Your laughter, Hongjoong’s rapt attention—every detail feels like a dagger to her chest.

Her grip on the doorframe tightens as she fights back tears, her mind racing with anger and jealousy.

As you pull back slightly, your fingers lingering on Hongjoong’s jawline, he gazes up at you with a rare softness. The silence stretches between you, not awkward but charged with unspoken words.

“Pretty,” He begins, his voice a little hoarse as if gathering courage.

You tilt your head, teasingly brushing a strand of his hair back “What is it, nerd?”

Hongjoong chuckles softly, but the sound is nervous. He looks away for a moment, his thumb absently tracing small circles on your thigh.

“I was thinking... Maybe we could go out this weekend. Like, just us. A real date.”

Your breath hitches, though you manage to keep your expression neutral. A date. The word sets off a flutter in your chest that you quickly smother. You can’t let yourself feel this way—not for him.

He’s sweet, in a way that disarms you. And yes, there’s something undeniably magnetic about the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

But there’s also a voice in the back of your mind, sharp and cynical, whispering warnings.

What if he’s just like everyone else? What if he’s only here because being with you makes him feel important?

You’ve seen it before—the fake smiles, the shallow affections of people who only want something from you. It’s always been easier to keep your guard up, to let the world think you’re untouchable.

Still, as you look at him now, with his nervous grin and earnest eyes, a part of you wonders if Hongjoong is different.

“A date, huh?” You echo, a playful smirk tugging at your lips “Are you asking me out, Joongie?”

His grip on your leg tightens ever so slightly as he nods “Yeah, I guess I am.”

You tilt your head, studying him, trying to find some crack in his sincerity. But there’s none. He’s genuine—almost painfully so.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a date.” Your tone is flippant, casual, as if it doesn’t matter. But the faint blush creeping up your cheeks betrays you.

Outside the door, Dann halts mid-step. She had intended to leave, to distance herself from the painful scene, but Hongjoong’s words froze her in place.

A date.

Her breathing stops, and her mind reels, repeating every look, every silly smile he used to give you every time you passed by his friends' table, even before he sat down with your ridiculous social group, and she can't deny how much Hongjoong likes you, even now.

Dann had told herself that he didn’t really mean it, that he was just infatuated, that you didn’t deserve him. But hearing him now, so sincere, so devoted—it feels like a knife twisting deeper into her chest.

She takes a shaky step back, her vision blurring with tears. Her mind is a storm of anger, heartbreak, and self-loathing.

Why her? Why not me?

Dann quietly slips away, her steps quick and silent. But her expression hardens with every step she takes. If there was any doubt before, it’s gone now—she won’t let you keep humiliating her.

Dann rushes down the hallway, her chest tight and her mind swirling with emotion. She doesn’t even notice Mike leaning against the wall near the corner, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, well,” He drawls, his smooth voice stopping her in her tracks “What’s got you running off in tears, Cinderella?”

Dann stiffens, quickly wiping at her eyes and turning to face him “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, his sharp gaze flicking to the study door she just fled from. His curiosity piqued, he steps past her without another word.

Dann doesn’t try to stop him, her head hanging as shame and frustration bubble within her.

Quietly, Mike approaches the slightly ajar study door. His keen eyes take in the scene inside:

YN, sitting on the nerd's lap, whose hands rest possessively on her thighs as they kiss.

Your closeness, the intimate way your fingers trail along Hongjoong’s hair, makes Mike’s smirk widen.

He glances back at Dann, who’s standing frozen in the hallway, her shoulders tense. His mind pieces the puzzle together.

Dann’s crushed expression, your little display with the nerd in his designer clothes, that obviously, Mike knows that you bought for him, and the underlying tension he’s noticed between the two girls.

A cruel but amused thought settles in his mind. Of course, you're using that poor guy to hurt Dann. Classic YN. It’s vicious, but… beautifully done.

Pushing the door slightly closed so you and Hongjoong remain unaware, Mike strides back to Dann. He tilts his head, studying her, his tone feigning concern.

“Looks like my sister is having quite the fun time in there, doesn’t it?” He says casually.

Dann’s head snaps up, her wide eyes filled with panic. “You—you saw?”

Mike shrugs, his smirk softening into something almost comforting.

“It’s hard to miss, really. She does know how to put on a show.” He pauses, letting his words sink in before stepping closer “You like him, don’t you?”

Dann’s face burns, and she quickly shakes her head “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Dann. Don’t insult me by lying,” He says smoothly, his voice low and persuasive. “You like that nerd, it’s written all over your face. You’re smitten, and YN? Well, she knows it. And judging by what I just saw, she’s enjoying rubbing it in.”

Dann’s lips tremble, but she says nothing. The truth in his words stings too much to deny.

Mike’s expression shifts, his voice softening. “It’s cruel, isn’t it? After everything you’ve done for her, she still treats you like this. Like a pawn in her little games.”

Dann bites her lip, her anger and hurt bubbling to the surface “Why are you telling me this? What do you want?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “What I want is irrelevant. What you want, though… That’s what matters, doesn’t it?” He steps even closer, his tone conspiratorial “You want to stop her, don’t you? Make her see what it’s like to be humiliated, to lose everything she holds dear.”

Dann looks at him, her eyes narrowing “Why would you care? She’s your sister.”

Mike smirks again, his gaze hard. “Oh, I care, Dann. But not in the way you think. YN’s gotten away with far too much for far too long. It’s time she learns that actions have consequences. And I think you and I? We can make that happen.”

Dann hesitates, her emotions warring within her. Mike leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Think about it, Dann. Do you really want to keep being her servant, watching her parade around with him, knowing she’s using you? Or do you want to take back some control?” He pulls back, straightening his tie as if the conversation is no more than business.

“The choice is yours. But if you’re tired of being her shadow… You know where to find me.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving Dann standing there, her heart pounding and her thoughts racing.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Dann sits at the back of the school library, nervously twisting the strap of her bag. The place is nearly deserted, the only sounds are the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of a page turning.

She checks her phone for the third time, anxiously glancing at the clock.

Finally, Seonghwa strides in, his usual air of confidence intact. Spotting her, he saunters over, dropping into the chair across from her.

“You’re lucky I don’t hate this place,” He mutters, propping his chin on his hand “Now, what’s so urgent?”

Dann hesitates, her gaze darting around to ensure no one’s within earshot “It’s about Mike.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrows slightly, but he maintains his calm demeanor.

“What about him?”

Dann leans closer, lowering her voice. “He… approached me yesterday. After YN and Hongjoong—” Her voice falters, and she shakes her head, willing herself to stay focused “He saw me upset and, um, he offered me a deal.”

Hwa’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, there’s an unreadable flicker in his expression.

“A deal?”

Dann nods quickly “He said he knows YN’s been using Hongjoong to hurt me, and he wants to help me… to bring her down.”

A smirk slowly spreads across Hwa’s face, but there’s a calculating glint in his eyes.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Dann admits, her voice shaking slightly. “I mean, I hate YN for everything she’s done, and he’s kind. I trust him, but I don’t know…”

“Well, you shouldn’t trust him,” Seonghwa says bluntly “Mike’s not the kind of guy who does anything out of the goodness of his heart. He’ll want something in return, probably something you’re not ready to give.”

Dann bites her lip, her uncertainty clear. His words sound similar to what you told her days ago.

'He's not what you think, Dann.'

“Then what do I do? If I say no, he’ll probably find another way to mess with her. But if I say yes…”

Hwa leans back in his chair, his smirk growing. “You'll say yes.”

“What?” Dann looks at him in shock.

“Think about it,” Hwa says smoothly. “This is an opportunity. Mike’s already got a grudge against YN, and he’s offering you a chance to take her down. Why waste that?”

“But…” Dann hesitates. “He’ll know I’m working with him. He might use me, too.”

Hwa leans forward, his voice low and firm. “That’s where I come in. You agree to his deal, play along with whatever he asks, but you don’t let him know about me. I’ll guide you from the sidelines, help you navigate whatever mess he pulls you into.”

Dann looks at him uncertainty “Why do you want to stay hidden? You and Mike… You know each other, don’t you?”

Hwa’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a more serious expression.

“Our families are close. Too close. If he knows I’m involved, it’ll complicate things. And trust me, you don’t want him digging into your allies.”

Dann frowns, still unsure “So, I’m supposed to be his pawn, but secretly working for you?”

Seonghwa nods “Exactly. Let him think he’s in control, but we’ll be the ones pulling the strings.” He leans back again, his smirk returning. “And when the time comes, we’ll let the golden boy deal with his sister, then make sure he doesn’t come out unscathed, either.”

Dann hesitates for a moment longer before finally nodding.

“Okay… I’ll do it.”

“Good girl,” Hwa says with a grin “Just remember, no matter what Mike says or does, you keep me out of it. Understood?”

“Understood,” Dann says quietly, her resolve hardening.

As Seonghwa gets up to leave, he gives her a final glance.

“Don’t let him intimidate you, Dann. You’re stronger than you think. And with me in your corner, YN won’t stand a chance.”

Dann watches him walk away, her heart pounding. She feels a flicker of hope, but it’s laced with fear.

She’s stepping into dangerous territory, and she knows there’s no turning back now.

✮ ⋆

The evening air feels heavier as Dann makes her way to the agreed meeting spot. Seonghwa’s proposition lingers in her mind, but now, standing face-to-face with Mike, your seemingly perfect older brother, she feels a renewed sense of purpose.

“You’re late.” He remarks, his tone sharp and businesslike.

His piercing gaze studies her, assessing her worth as an ally. Dann crosses her arms defensively.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Mike smirks faintly, leaning back against the wall “Fair enough. So, you’ve decided to take me up on my offer. Good. Let’s not waste time—tell me everything you know about YN and this… Hongjoong guy.”

Dann hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. Is she really doing this? Betraying her values?

But then she recalls the laughter, the dismissive looks, and the countless times you made her feel small.

Her jaw tightens “Hongjoong used to be normal,” She begins, her voice steady but bitter “He had his own friends. He was part of that freak crowd. Good grades, nothing special. Just a regular guy trying to get by.”

Mike arches an eyebrow, intrigued “And now?”

“Now?” Dann scoffs, bitterness seeping into her tone “Now, he’s your sister’s lapdog. But before that, he was part of the ‘slaves’—as your sister and her friends called them. The kids who did their homework, their projects, whatever they didn’t feel like doing themselves.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Mike’s face, though he quickly masks it.

“Go on.”

“YN and her crew, they humiliated him. Constantly. He was a joke to them. They used him, mocked him, and then, one day, out of nowhere, YN decides he’s worthy of her attention. He just… sat with her at lunch one day, like it was the most normal thing in the world. After that, he started hanging out with them, ditching his old friends. Forgot about them completely.”

Mike’s expression hardens as he listens. He processes the information quickly, the gears in his mind already turning.

“So, you’re saying she picked him up like a… project?”

Dann nods “That’s exactly what it looks like. But the weird part is… he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s completely loyal to her. It’s like she has him wrapped around her finger.”

The older man chuckles darkly, his smile cold “That sounds like my little sister, all right. Always taking what she wants without a second thought.”

Dann swallows hard, her hands clenching into fists “She doesn’t deserve him. And he doesn’t deserve to just… get away with forgetting where he came from.”

Mike leans forward, his voice low and commanding “You’re absolutely right. That’s why we’re going to remind him—and her—that actions have consequences. But I need more. Details, patterns, vulnerabilities. I want to know everything she’s hiding.”

Dann hesitates, her mind flicking briefly to Seonghwa’s warning not to involve him. She decides to steer clear of mentioning her.

“The others, Mindy, Mingi, San, and Wooyoung, they’re all in her circle, part of the same game. They cover for her, laugh at her jokes, make sure no one crosses her. They’re as bad as she is, if not worse.”

Mike nods slowly. He knows all of your friends, but where is little Park Seonghwa? You used to be inseparable.

His expression is one of calculated determination “Good. That’s a start. Keep watching, keep listening. I want updates on every little thing. The more I know, the easier it’ll be to tear her down.”

Dann feels a chill run through her as she realizes just how serious Mike is. But she doesn’t back down. Dann bites her lip, glancing at him.

“There’s something else—something about Hongjoong.” His eyebrows lift slightly, urging her to continue “He… he always feels like he has to stay on YN’s good side,” She says slowly, her voice tinged with both resentment and a hint of sadness “Even when she’s wrong, even when she’s downright cruel.”

Mike narrows his eyes “What do you mean?”

Dann looks away, the memory of that day in the cafeteria flooding back “There was this one time. It wasn’t long after he started sitting with her, maybe a couple of weeks. YN was in one of her moods, and she was picking on me—making me carry her bag, fetch her coffee, stupid stuff like that.” Her voice trembles slightly, but she forces herself to keep going. “Hongjoong... He didn’t say a word.”

“Typical YN. But Hongjoong? That doesn’t sound like the hero type you’re making him out to be.”

“That’s the thing,” Dann says bitterly. “He’s not. Not really. He just… stood there, watching, like he didn’t want to risk making her angry.” She pauses, swallowing the lump in her throat. “But one day in the cafeteria, something happened. YN took it too far.”

“What did she do?” He asks, his tone colder now.

“I dropped her drink over her purse, Mindy made me get on my knees and beg YN's forgiveness...” Dann says quietly, her cheeks flushing with humiliation even at the memory. “And when I refused, YN stepped on my hand mercilessly. Everyone was laughing, pointing, but Hongjoong defended me… he told her to stop, and after he went after me.”

Mike tilts his head, intrigued “He stood up to her?”

“For a moment,” Dann says with a dry laugh “But you know what happened after that? She ignored him. For days. Didn’t talk to him, didn’t look at him. And Hongjoong? He couldn’t handle it. After a few days…. He apologized to her. For defending me that day in the cafeteria.” Dann says softly, bitterness slipping into her tone.

He arches an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued “And how do you know that?”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, remembering the explicit scene she saw that night, debating whether to answer.

“Because… I saw them.” She mutters.

“Saw them?” He presses, leaning forward slightly.

“At Wooyoung’s party,” Dann explains, her voice shaking, “They went upstairs together. I—I didn’t see everything, but when they came back, YN looked… satisfied. And Hongjoong looked…”

Her voice trails off, the implications hanging in the air. Mike’s lips twitch into a smirk, the pieces clicking together in his mind.

“Ah,” He drawls, a hint of amusement in his tone “So that’s how he managed to crawl his way into her good graces again.”

Dann bites her lip but says nothing, her face burning with a mix of shame and jealousy.

Mike chuckles, crossing his arms “Poor little Hongjoong. He’s so desperate to stay on YN’s good side, he’ll do whatever it takes, won’t he?” His smirk grows wider, more cruel “I’m almost impressed. Almost.” Dann looks down at her hands, refusing to meet his gaze “Sounds like he’s more afraid of being cast out than he is of losing his integrity. That’s good to know.”

Dann looks at him, frowning slightly “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that we can use that. If Hongjoong’s loyalty to YN is built on fear of losing her approval, it’s only a matter of time before he breaks.” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper “People like that are easy to manipulate. You just have to know where to push.”

Dann hesitates, her gaze darting to the floor before meeting Mike’s calculating eyes.

“There’s one more thing,” She says cautiously.

“Go on.”

“Hongjoong… he asked YN out on a date,” Dann reveals, bitterness lacing her tone “I don’t know when or where, but he did.”

Mike’s expression darkens, a smirk curling at his lips.

“Now he’s inviting her on dates, playing the doting ‘boyfriend’ while she pulls the strings. It’s almost… poetic.” He leans forward again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper “You know this fairytale won’t last, right? Once the thrill of the game wears off, they’ll both be exactly where they belong—crumbling.”

Unknown to Dann or Mike, you have just rounded the corner, your footsteps halting as you overhears your brother’s mocking voice. You step back into the shadows, your breath catching in your throat.

How does he know about the date?

Your stomach churns. You are drawn to Hongjoong—his warmth, his loyalty, the way he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe—but you can’t bring yourself to admit it.

Pride keeps your walls up, but fear builds them higher.

Fear that Hongjoong’s interest is just another way to climb to the top, that he’s using you like everyone else in your life seems to.

You clench your fists, forcing yourself to keep listening as Mike chuckles darkly.

“Well,” He continues, leaning back against the wall “Let them have their little fairytale moment. Let them hold hands, kiss under the stars, and pretend it’s all perfect.” He pauses, his smirk turning cruel “Because once it ends—and it will end—it’s going to crash down so hard they won’t know what hit them.”

You feel your chest tighten, your brother’s words hitting a nerve you didn’t even realize was raw. You press your back against the wall, your breathing shallow as you fight the urge to burst in and confront them.

Instead, you slip away quietly, mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Hongjoong asked you out…

But what if Mike’s right? What if it’s all just a game to him?

The idea sends a pang of vulnerability through your chest, one of you quickly smothering with anger.

No one uses you, you think fiercely, even as your heart betrays you with the smallest flicker of hope.

As you leave, Dann and Mike have done their chant. As Dann turns to leave, Mike’s voice stops her.

“Oh, and Dann,” He says, his tone almost casual but laced with menace “If you try to cross me or withhold anything… you’ll regret it.”

Dann doesn’t respond. She just walks away, her heart pounding in her chest.

She’s in too deep now, and there’s no turning back.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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[arc-misadventures]

His Prom Date

Jaune Arc was standing by the side of the dance hall, dressed in a finely tailored suit with a cup of punch in his hands silently waiting as he watched everyone gather for schools prom dance. He was enjoying his silent musing as he waited, until an unexpected guest arrived.

: Hey there, Jauney boy, having fun~?

Jaune looked to the side to see the school joke with muscles for brains staring at him, with a mocking cocky smile plaster all over his face smug face.

Jaune: No, but the night is still young so it remains to be seen.

Cardin: Pff, whatever… Hey, let me introduce you to my date, Say hello to, Kathy. Kathy Faltrini. The head cheerleader.

Kathy: Hello, Jaune was it?

Jaune was surprised to see such a beautiful woman next to, Cardin. She was a blonde wearing a shimmering violet satin dress that hugged her frame perfectly. His eyes giving her dress the once over, he was impressed at the beautiful lace pattern that highlighted her upper body, leaving a sizeable impressive upon the mind to what was her actual bust. size. But, as his eyes were drawn down to the billowing skirt that surrounded her legs. Before his eyes returned to those striking green eyes of hers.

She was a beautiful woman, a rose among weeds, particularly the one she had her arm wrapped around.

Jaune: Jaune, Jaune Arc. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Kathy Faltrini

Jaune took her out stretched hand, gently placed a kiss upon hers. A faint blush, and a smile appeared on her face before, Cardin grunted like a pig, and pulled her away.

Cardin: So, where’s your date, Jauney, or are the rumours true?

Jaune: And, pray tell what rumours would that be?

Cardin: That you couldn’t get a date, so you took your mom to the prom!

Cardin let loose a laugh that, Jaune would swear sounded like a pig. A sound so guttural, and vile that, Jaune was concerned that, Cardin was choking on his own stupidity. His date seemed pull away in shock at the rancid sound he made.

Jaune however took his insult upon his chin, and laughed it away.

Jaune: No, Cardin I did not take my mother to the prom. That rumour is only a half true.

Cardin: Half truth?

Jaune: You see, I did take a mom to the prom as my date for the night, just nobody told you that my date is with your mom.

As he said those words, a woman with long red brown hair that cascaded down her back captured, Jaune’s arm between the sizable valley of her cleavage. She war a golden brown dress withe a v-neck that showed a tantalizing amount of skin, but no where near as an intoxicating sight as her leg that appeared underneath the most appeasing of thigh gaps in her dress.

Carla Winchester smiled a dazzling pearly white smile as her emerald eyes gazed lovingly upon her date before looking at her son.

Carla: Oh, hello, Cardin~!

Cardin: M-Mom…?

Carla: I would love to chat, but I have a dance lined up with this darling young man here, and I do so hate to miss it. Bye~!

With that, Carla pulled, Jaune away, but the pair didn’t get far enough away to hear his mother whisper something in, Jaune’s ear that made his blood run cold.

Carla: play your cards right sweetheart, and we’ll be doing more dancing back at my place tonight~!

Cardin just stood there, his mouth hanging as the blood fled from his face. Aa breathless cry escaping his lips until the silence was finally broken by his date.

Kathy: Mmmh~! Now there goes a real man~!

Cardin: What the fuck?!

[vryfmi]

book!l&co character lineup

finally finished extended version of my L&Co designs, based on their book descriptions! it took months, but im happy with the results

ID of designs + thumbnail-sketch under the cut

[image ID: two digital drawings of characters from Lockwood and Co books, done in semi-realistic style, black lineart and plain colour against grey background.

image 1: from left to right there are full body drawings of George Cubbins, Anthony Lockwood and Lucy Carlyle. George is standing facing left, slouching, he's looking at the viewer with indifferent expression. he's fat, light-skinned and has medium length fair hair. George's wearing round glasses, red t-shirt, baggy jeans, unzipped grey hoodie and sneakers. he has a grey sport bag in right hand and a black messenger bag across left shoulder. next to him there's Lockwood, he's standing half turned to right, he's facing the viewer with a gentle smile. Lockwood is paler than George, almost a head taller and slim with short, slightly wavy, black hair. he's wearing a grey three piece suit with white shirt underneath, as well as smart black shoes and a purple tie. on top of it is a black greatcoat. Lockwood stands with one hand in pocket and another resting on rapier's grip. the sword is in its scabbard attached to Lockwood's belt. furthest on the right is Lucy, she's standing half turned to right, head facing left with a curious look directed at the viewer. her skin is light and her hair is warm brown, slightly uneven and spiky with middle parting. she has a wide frame and is the same height as George. Lucy's wearing a baggy orange sweater, plaid grey skirt, black leggings and tall dark-brown work boots with iron patches. she's holding onto a strap of her rucksack that is on her right shoulder. there's also a belt on top of the sweater which holds her rapier.

image 2: from left to right there are full body drawings of Flo Bones, human version of the skull, Quill Kipps and Holly Munro. Flo is standing half turned to left, facing towards the viewer with a smirk. she's light-skinned with long dirty-blonde hair, and her face has smudges of mud all over. compared to previous pictures, she's almost as tall as Lockwood, but not quite. Flo is wearing long blue puffer jacket on top of her darker clothes that resemble one of fisherman's with mudded thigh-high rainboots. she stands with one hand in jacket pocket, one raising a brim of straw hat with a knife. said hat has a fishing hook stuck on its brim and two lavender stems attached to hat band. next to her is the skull in his human form. he stands half turned to right, slouching, hands in pockets, with head thrown back with a wide smirk across his face. skull is very thin and not really tall, he is tanned and freckled with spiky dark hair. skull is wearing ill-fitting clothes: a white old-timey shirt that is slightly too big and grey trousers that are too small and short. he stands barefoot. third from the left is Quill Kipps, he stand half turned to right, crossing his arms, head facing left with a look of annoyance. Kipps is short and slim, he has ruddy and freckled skin and short ginger hair. Kipps is wearing a grey leather jacket with Fittes logo on it as well as two medals, tight black jeans and chelsea boots. his rapier scabbard has a baldric type of belt. rapier itself has green gems on a hilt. finally, there's Holly Munro, she's standing half turned to left, head facing right with a gentle smile. she's pretty tall and slim with deep rich black skin tone and black shoulder length curls. Holly's wearing a white short lantern sleeve shirt with a blue dress with a cloth belt wrapped around and tied into a bow at the back, as well as low heel shoes. she has a light-blue scarf wrapped around her head. Holly also has white small earrings and beige nail paint. all of the characters have artist’s watermark at the lower right side of them./end ID]

bonus sketch

[vivwritesfics]

sorry if this is a bother, but can i request carlos or lando who have a so with big thighs? like a love and hate kind of relationship with the thighs, but the driver is absoloutely shooketh because he loves her thighs? so sorry if this doesn't spark up anything

Carlos or lando? I say both

Also I myself am i girl with thick af thighs that she loves and hates so this spoke to me

The weather was... hot. Unbearably so, actually. For a thick thighed girl, this was hell. In jeans she would have been sweating. But in shorts or a skirt. Her thighs already hurt from the thought of it alone.

"You're gonna die in those," said Lando as he walked past her.

She groaned as she flopped back on the bed, still in her underwear and a shirt. "I know," she said, dragging out the oooooo. "But what am I meant to do? I wear shorts? Chafing. I wear a skirt? Chafing. Either way I'm suffering."

It was Carlos who ran his fingers through her hair. "Wear the shorts," he said. "If you thighs start to rub, I'll carry you."

"You promise?"

"I promise," he said as he leaned down to kiss her.

She went with the shorts, pulling them up over her thighs. As quickly as she could she got dressed, and the three of them headed to the track.

She lasted maybe an hour before her thighs started chafing. It was all of the walking around, following her boyfriends from garage to garage. Of course, the moment her thighs started hurting was the moment that she was alone.

Lando and Carlos were doing media things or in meeting with their teams, she didn't know. All she knew was that her thighs were rubbed raw and killing her. She couldn't take another step.

But she got up from her seat in the McLaren hospitality suite and went off to find her Spanish boyfriend.

She walked into his drivers room and threw herself down onto the sofa. As soon as she did, she put her hands between her thighs, holding them apart. Fuck, it hurt so much.

A few minutes later her Spanish boyfriend walked into his drivers room. "Cariño," he said as he grabbed her hand and helped her up. "Are you ready to go back to the hotel?"

Somewhat pathetically, she nodded. "Carry me there?"

Carlos helped her to stand on the sofa. After that he put his back to her and she jumped onto it, wrapping her legs around his midsection and her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek.

"Lets go and get our muppet," he said and carried her to the McLaren hospitality suite.

[alexiapp]

𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐘

𝖠𝗅𝖾𝗑𝗂𝖺 𝖯𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗌 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐭. (𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠)

Summary: you and Ale have a little fun at the beach !!

You and Ale decide to go on a walk to get some fresh air, what seemed to be a a harmless activity turned into 𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐲. Today was a hot day in Barcelona not used to such hot weather made the whole walk a struggle, for you in particular

and a whole lot of 𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 came from you.

“𝐀𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐭, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮“ you said fanning your face as you continued your whining. One thing you couldn’t stand is hot weather. You just weren’t used to this kind of environment, you’re used to the cold of England. Alexia chuckled and playfully rolled her eyes “𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐚 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥“ she did as she continued her teasing. You rolled your eyes, you were far from annoyed you were starting to get pissy that was always a given for you when your in such weather conditions, you were 𝐍𝐎𝐓 fond of this heat at 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

You spoke up, “𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐚, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞“ you said as you started dragging your feet on the concrete of the Barcelona side walks. Ale’s walking came to a halt “𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫“ she said trying to reason with you. You turned around and asked “𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐀𝐥𝐞“ you replied the blonde haired woman raised a her eyebrows and smiled with a ‘𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞’ look on her face and said “𝐋𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐟𝐟“ with a rush of your feet you grabbed Alexia by her wrist and urged her to quicken the tan women’s pace adamant to get back to there shared flat.

Fast forward you guys arrived to your flat. You went into your drawer looking for a bathing suit wise Alexia gathered things we may need in our beach bag. You settled on a black bikini thong for the bottoms and a basic black bikini top. you put it on, and decided to wear a sheer black skirt to cover up a little. As you stared in the mirror trying to fix anything out of place the door opened and Alexia walked in. She snuck up behind you wrapped her arms around your body and whispered in your ear “𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐦𝐢 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐚“ she muttered as she picked her head up to start kissing your neck.

You started to giggle from the pecks she gave you on your neck and you said “𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐭 ?“ she nodded and said “𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬“ she said with a smile. you guys checked around to make sure you had everything you needed in case of a emergency and after you decided you did you picked up your stuff and headed to the car. Wise driving on the way to the beach Alexia put her hands on your thigh and rubbed her thumb and kept looking between you and the road smiling to herself. “𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞?“ you said as you saw her constant eyes on you. “𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐦𝐢 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫?“ she said laughing shaking her head as she pulled in close to the beach, you slapped her hand away from your thigh in a playfully manner and shook your head at her antics.

Ale quickly got out of the car and jogged around to open your door to help you out of her cupra “𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮“ you said to her thanking her for her gentlewoman like behavior she nodded and smiled and opened the back door to get you guys beach bag. she shut the door and locked her car and grabbed your hand as you guys walked down to shore. You were excited to finally feel cool after this hot day.

As Ale set our things down she started to take off her shirt and shorts revealing a white and black zebra print, bikini you admired everything about her from head to toe. her strong arms, her chiseled abs ,strong legs and lastly her beautiful face, being caught in your day dream Alexia decided to play with you for a little bit. you felt your body lift into the air as your instinct told you to wrap your legs around Alexia’s waist to your surprise you let out a squeal as she started to run and bring you closer to shore.

You looked at alexia with a warning look “𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 ��𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐲𝐞𝐭“ you said with a knowing looking. Ale gave a mischievous smile in response and said okay, using one hand to hold you up and the other to untie the knot of the mesh skirt and threw it somewhere on the sand and quickly ran you guys deeper into the water out of nowhere.

“𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮“ you said after you were thrown in the water you jumped up water trying to catch you breath. Alexia thought it was the funniest thing ever and let out a long chuckle, you began to show a face with disapproval crossing your arm. Ale laughed and said “𝐜𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫?“ she said as she slowly glided her way through the water towards you as the taller tanned women wrapped her arms around your waist trying to hug you.

You pushed her hands in protest “𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞“ you said in a playful tone trying to act annoyed. “𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫“ she said as she reached down to pull you into a passionate kiss even making the effort to move her kisses down to your neck, sucking a little. you guys decided to swim close around the shore moving around trying to cool off. You finally felt relaxed in the cool water, as the sun began to set. After you started to get a little chilly you guys decided to dry off and set a towel down from the beach bag onto the sand to relax.

You grabbed a random book Alexia brought for you and she decided to go on her phone scrolling through social media and replying back to messages. After you guys laid down, the tanned women had other thoughts. she slowly scooted towards you pushing the book down as she started to kiss your neck “𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠“ you said in a whining protest, as she continued and even gotten to the point where she reached her hands down into your bikini bottoms until you pulled her hands out to stop her, she frowned at you. “𝐖𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞“ you said as you looked her in the eyes.

She groaned in annoyance as she tried to protest “𝐜𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐢 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐚“ she said in a whining tone. “𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞“ you said in a lecturing tone. Alexia laughed at the comment and as you also laughed at her in amusement and surprise. You guys laughter died down as you two just stared at each other. Her pupils dilated looking into your eyes as she said opened her mouth and said “𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮“ she said to you wise cupping your face. you leaned into her touched and looked back up at her and said “𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐨“ she replied back “𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨“ she said in a love dazed tone.

[siri-ike]

DP X DC: empty

Chapter 8

Chapter 1 chapter 7

"I think she's me." He said after a long silence.

"She can't be you. You're you." Johnny responded slowly.

He stalled a moment, "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. of course, you're right. That would be impossible. " There's no way. She can't be him, and he can't be her. But there's something about her. Something so familiar they can't possibly be separate. "I need to see her again."

Having a spirit around that can punch your father's lights out seemed like a sweet deal at first. But just like Scrooge, Johnny was quickly learning how persuasive ghosts can be. And by the time their lease was up, his bags had mysteriously been packed already.

Dani's house was pretty normal looking. She had cleared some hangers for his outdoor clothes, and there was a bedroom ready for him, too. Although it was decorated like an observatory. Does she think he's an alien or something? The ghost seems to like it.

Did he glow like that before?

"Johnny!" Dani shouted from the kitchen. "I got some takeaways from West End Burgers. Yours is on the table, I'll be in my office.

She is the weirdest woman John has ever met. For starters, she's a detective, so she carries a gun. She wears pants instead of a skirt. She doesn't even curl her hair. Or cook dinner, apparently. Then there was the whole violence thing.

When he got to the kitchen, he was surprised to see three hamburgers on a plate, still wrapped in foil. He checked the receipt to see if she actually bought 6 hamburgers for the two of them.

"You seem distraught."

"I'm perfectly traught." Johnny insisted. "I'm probably just supposed to take one, right?"

"They're on a plate together."

Johnny picked one up. "I can't eat 3 burgers." He paused for a moment, then offered it to the other boy.

He hesitated to reach forward. Concentrate, be tangible. He carefully held it with both hands. He watched as Johnny took a bite and followed suit.

"You're supposed to take the wrapper off."

"Huh?" He chewed through the third of a hamburger he had stuffed in his mouth. And without a thought, swallowed it, wrapper and all.

"Never mind, here." Johnny handed the third one over as the first disappeared into a snake like jaw while taking a normal sized bite out of his own food. The sight alone was enough to give him a stomach ache. But not enough to make him not eat.

Come to think of it. Johnny had never seen the, ghost? Eat before. Maybe that's why he's so spaced out all the time. Johnny sure wouldn't like to skip months' worth of meals. "Are you still hungry?"

"I don't understand." His voice was less of a whisper than it was, this clearer version sounded, lively. He sounded like someone. It was a voice Johnny had heard before.

Just then, the door behind them opened, and detective Dani walked in with three empty hamburger wrappers on her plate. She really eats like this!? She threw them in the trash under the sink and got three large glasses from an upper cabinet. "Compleatly forgot water." She smiled at him, filled her's with water, and went back to wence she came.

"You two freaks are cut from the same cloth." Johnny addressed the air beside him.

"Yes... we are, " a nearby whisper follows her.

The room was an office. She sat at a desk covered in Manila folders and paper. The moment he stepped through the wall, she looked up. Directly at him.

She can't see him. No one can see him! How can she see him?

She exhaled a small fog of white breath. "Are you here?" She asked, looking around the room. She can't see him. But she knows.

"I've been looking for you." She paused longingly. "That's OK. You don't have to say anything. Clockwork said you might forget some things." Her smile lacked any emotion. It was like she wanted to be happy but couldn't overcome the hollowness. "I met some of our friends. Walker's still alive... Sydney isn't. I've been working on a way back to the ghost zone, but it's proven difficult without hurting the timeline." She looked so worn out. She looked wrong. This wasn't the person he had recognized. It's someone else. "Danny, please. Just show yourself, let me know you're alright."

He stepped back out. Johnny had left, probably went back to his room. He started in the direction, pretending not to hear the quiet whimpers from the office.

~~~~~~~

"Is it true you're taking the Crane boy?" Asked Commissioner Reynolds.

"Yes, sir. Picking him up after work." Dani glanced at the clock on the wall. One more hour.

"It's a big commitment, Nightingale. Are you sure you're up for it." It was less a question and more of an accusation.

"That's the beauty of teenagers, commissioner, they don't need 24-hour surveillance, just food and guidelines. And, you know, attention obviously."

"That's not what I meant. Are you ready for this?"

The air went stale.

"I read your transfer reports. I know about Pointdexter."

"Sydney was a good boy" Dani defended.

Dani didn't answer. She couldn't.

"Doesn't mean he was good for you."

One more hour.

[blossomarlia]

heyyyy hope ur having a good day, just requesting a drabble (if ur up to it) w maybe like James and a reader who feels like she has bad fashion taste, kind of niche so don't worry if u don't want to write it!

hii tysm for this request, it was so fun to write! hope your day is wonderful too <3

summary: james finds you stressing over your fashion sense

james potter x fem!reader

warnings: mild sexual implications

“Hey, sweetheart?” James calls as he comes out of the shower. You look up from your spot on the bedroom floor glumly, barely even able to make the most of this opportunity to look at your boyfriend with his shirt off. Perhaps if you ask him later on he’ll take it off again, just to make up for lost time. 

“Hi,” You say, unsuccessfully attempting to insert some cheer into your voice. “Sorry, not dressed yet.”

“We’ve ages before we need to leave- you can go like that, if you want to.” He shrugs, eyebrows knitting together as he takes in your expression. You look down at your outfit; track-pants and a t-shirt out of James’ drawer. Definitely not appropriate attire for meeting friends for dinner and drinks. “Everything alright?”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” You sigh, sounding pathetic even to your own ears. The countless skirts, pants and tops strewn across your bedroom floor are evidence to the opposite, and you know you have nice clothing. Supply isn’t the issue, it’s your apparent lack of ability to select the right combination. “I can’t put together a nice outfit.”

“Sure you can,” James says easily, pulling on boxers and a t-shirt before joining you on the floor, his knee pressing against your thigh. “What about that lovely wrap skirt you wore to my parents’ house for lunch?”

“I don’t know what to wear it with.” You stare dejectedly at the offending item of clothing, which you’ve tried on with about six tops- including the one from last weekend- and taken off again. Nothing looks right, nothing feels like something you’d want to show up to dinner in. Shamefully, you’re struck with jealousy towards your other friends; Lily, with her grown-up outfits that might as well live in a fashion catalogue; Marlene always so effortless and cool; Mary in figure-hugging fabrics that make her look like a goddess. You don’t have the same ability, it seems, instead left totally incapable of even pairing jeans with a top that won’t make you feel as if you’re doing an impression of someone with taste vastly different to yours. 

You sigh, growing more frustrated by the second. James, noticing, shuffles closer and wraps a strong arm around you. His wet hair sprinkles you as he turns to press a kind kiss to your cheek.

“Don’t stress over it, honey-girl. What’s got you so upset?”

“I don’t know.” You press your face to your knees where they’re pulled up, feeling stupid. “I don’t feel very… good, at this. Picking outfits. It’s silly.”

“It isn’t,” James is quick to correct. “But it’s not true, either- you have fantastic outfits, sweetheart. Did someone say otherwise?”

The truth is, nobody’s mentioned your fashion taste at all, really. That’s the problem- silly as it seems. In groups of friends, you’re nobody’s first choice for outfit advice, never the receiver of compliments on your clothing choices. You try really hard to wear clothing that’ll suit you, mimic outfits you see online or from the various stylish people in your life, but none of it feels or looks right. You always look so awkward, you think. Never quite correctly proportioned, never cohesively coloured or textured. You don’t know what you’re doing wrong, you only see the result of it in the mirror each morning. 

“No,” You shake your head. “I just… feel as if none of my clothes look right, when I put them together. I haven’t got good style.” 

It feels like such a shameful thing to admit, both for the childishness of the confession and the truth of it. You can hardly look at James- not for lack of trying on his part, as he squeezes you and presses a kiss to your cotton-clothed shoulder.

“That’s not the case at all!” 

“It is a bit. It’s alright, Jamie, I’m being dramatic. It’s only frustrating me right now because I can’t find something good to wear tonight,” You assure him, voice muffled against your legs. You’re not trying to sound quite as sad as you do. “Sorry.”

He cups your cheek in one hand, so gently that you don’t realise he’s bringing your face up to his level until he’s done it. You blink quickly. “No sorries, my darling. C’mere.”

You’ll go crazy before you reject a cuddle from your boyfriend, so it’s with little resistance that you let him pull you halfway onto his lap and wrap you in his fresh shower smell and warmth. You’re almost lying down, head nestled under his chin and arms around his middle as he rubs gentle lines down your back. 

“You,” He says thoughtfully, “Have really lovely taste in clothing. I know it’s true because I think it each time you come home from the shops and show me what you’ve bought, or try on things before we go out. I particularly love your taste in things during the winter time- not just because you use several of my jumpers- really, because you do such a wonderful job of choosing things that are lovely and interesting. I also love it when you mix colours, especially in the summer, because I know that I’ll have a much greater chance of matching flowers to your outfit when I buy them for you.” 

You laugh despite yourself, sitting up a little and accepting the sweet kiss he offers you. James’ thumb draws soft circles on the skin on front of your ear, his fingers comforting in your hair. 

“I’ve been the sillier of the two of us, really,” He goes on. “Not telling you how much I like all the things you wear. I didn’t realise you weren’t feeling pleased about your clothes, baby, I’ll be sure to let you know from now on.”

“It’s not something you’ve done wrong,” You frown, not wanting to fish for compliments. James gives you plenty of them; it’s not his fault if your specific fashion choices haven’t caught his attention, and you don’t want him to feel bad about it.

He considers this. “S’pose not, but it’s hardly going to be an issue for me to externalise a few more of my thoughts. Do it plenty already, don’t I?”

You breathe out another giggle. “Maybe.”

“‘Maybe’, she says,” James teases, digging his fingers into your ribs and laughing when you squirm away. “I mean it, though. I’ll only be being honest, and I hear that’s rather healthy for relationships.”

“Crazy,” You say sarcastically. There’s a brief lull, and you’re perfectly happy to stay in his arms like this as long as he’ll have you. “You really think it’s not so bad? My style?” “Not in the slightest, sweetheart. I love your style, I love all your clothes.” He confirms. You search his handsome face, his dimples, his kind eyes, and find only patient assurance. “Still, it matters quite a lot less what I think; if you’re unhappy, we can go shopping and find some new outfits for you to wear.”

You sigh. “I’m not sure that’ll help. I’m worried that I don’t have the ability to pick the right stuff, I… I don’t even think I really know what my style is.”

“Well, we could ask for help if you’d like it. I’m sure our friends would be happy to lend a hand- or if you’re not keen on it, we could spend a little while trying out different styles to find what suits you the best. Whatever would make you happy, angel.”

You’re a little overwhelmed with how much you like and love your boyfriend, so instead of attempting to express it you press your lips to his, pleased as ever when he moves his hands to your waist and pulls you closer to his chest. You’re sure you could stay like this forever, happy and together on the floor of your bedroom, but your phone’s alarm reminds you that it’s time to get ready. You pull yourself reluctantly off James, who’s looking a little dazed himself, and let out a long breath. 

“You’re very kind, Jamie,” You say. He grins. 

“Could show you how kind, if you-” “Mm-mm.” You shake your head before you can be too tempted by the tickle of his calloused fingertips under the edge of your t-shirt. “We have to leave in half an hour, and I do have to decide on something to wear tonight.”

He groans as if you’re telling him you’ll never kiss him again, sitting up properly and letting you climb off his lap. “You’re far too responsible, sweetheart. It’s your sole flaw.”

You pat his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you later. For now-” You survey the piles of clothing around you- “I suppose I’d better just choose something I’ve worn before.”

James gets to his feet, looking at the sum of your side of the wardrobe and humming contemplatively. “Well, nothing wrong with that.” 

“Mm,” You half-agree.

He bends down and grabs a black longsleeve in one hand, your jeans in the other. “This always looks good, don’t you think? I could lend you one of my jackets to go with it.”

You nod without giving yourself time to stress about all the other times you’ve worn something similar, smiling fondly up at James’ hopeful expression. “That’s a good idea. Thank you.” “It’s no hardship, angel,” He says lightly, handing you the clothes. “Just don’t overthink it, yeah? You’re so pretty.” You look away to hide your blush, still shy when he compliments you so earnestly, and James makes a happy sort of sound. “And cute, I mean-”

“Okay, enough!” You laugh, taking the clothing just to shut him up.

[mattyriddlegf]

Bonnie and Clyde - MR

Happy Halloween everyone! In honor of it being my favorite holiday, I decided to give you guys a cute little oneshot :)

Summary: you and Mattheo dress up for the Halloween party

Warnings: suggestive content

word count: ~1.4k

-----------

You move around your dorm in the Slytherin house, getting your costume for tonight’s Halloween party together. Every year, without the knowledge of the professors or headmaster, the students at Hogwarts hosted a large Halloween party. It was Hogwarts’ best kept secret.

This year, you and Pansy decided that you wanted to dress, eventually convincing the rest of the friend group to go along with it.

“It’ll be fun you guys. You can go as whatever you want?” you try to make your case to Blaise, Draco, and Theo.

“Is anyone else even dressing up this year? I am not going to be the only one.” Theo retorts.

“Dude, what does it matter? I have the perfect idea, we would look so badass” Blaise responds. You knew you could trust him to say yes, he tended to be the most…persuasive of the guys.

“I’ll jinx all of you if I look ridiculous.” Draco squints his eyes, threatening the entire group as Mattheo walks up. You and Mattheo started dating last spring so you had not experienced halloween as a couple yet.

“You always do Malfoy” Mattheo smirks as Draco flips him off and walks away, “what’re we talking about?” He sits down on the couch where Draco was sitting, across from you in the chair.

“We’re going in costumes to the Halloween party” Pansy excitedly explains. Mattheo shifts his eyes onto you, waiting for you to add on. Mattheo wasn’t one to even like parties, let alone dress up for one.

“I was thinking we could do a matching couples costume” you add, maintaining eye contact with him as Pansy gasps.

“That would be adorable, you have to! It would-”

“No. Absolutely fucking not.” Mattheo interrupts glancing over to her and then back to you.

“Why not?” you ask.

“I usually don’t even stay that long at the Halloween party, it would be a waste” he explains his reasoning.

You stand up and walk over to him, sitting on his lap, “Please? For me?” you bat your eyelashes with your big brown doe eyes, “It is my favorite holiday after all”

He stares at you, the eye contact leaving you breathless for a moment.

“We don’t even have to stay the entire night” you whisper in his ear. You knew that if you promised something in particular, he would give in, “I promise I’ll look really hot just…for…you.”

You back away to watch his reaction. He tilts his head and smirks, “Fine. I’ll do it but only because I’d be the only one not dressed up” That was so not the reason but he couldn’t say the real one in front of Pansy, Blaise, and Theo.

“This is going to be so fun” Pansy smiles.

You apply your makeup before getting dressed in your costume, Mattheo was meeting you in your dorm in a little bit and you wanted to surprise him and be completely ready before he arrived.

You were wearing a black pencil skirt, white button up top showing your cleavage a bit and a black beret with blood splattered on the outfit.

You start to curl your hair as Pansy finishes up, “I’m going to go check on the guys and make sure they’re actually dressing up”

“Okay” you smile, looking back at the mirror as she closes the door behind her, leaving you alone in the room.

After you finish curling, you go to apply the finishing touch, the red lipstick. 

“Damn you look good” you hear Mattheo’s voice chime behind you. 

You turn around and he’s standing in the doorframe, leaning against it.

“You don’t look bad yourself” you respond as you stand up. He closes the door and walks in before you walk up to him. He was wearing a simple black suit but for some reason, the blood he had splattered on it made it look one hundred times better.

He wraps his arms around you, his hands ending up on your ass as you weave your arms around his shoulders.

“You know…I’ve seen enough of the costume, we could just stay here and I can get it off of you so much quicker” he purrs.

“What, you don’t like my take on Bonnie?” You ask, “besides…that wasn’t the deal Mister.” You had dressed up as Bonnie and Clyde, his choice. As long as you let him choose the costume, he had to promise to actually try to enjoy the party for a bit before wanting to leave.

“Oh I definitely do, that’s the problem.” He leans in and connects your lips with his, the kiss starting slow and sensual but heating up quickly.

You back away to come up for air, “You are not getting off that easy, let’s go” you smirk before you back away.

Mattheo follows you like a lovesick puppy all the way to the party in the room of requirement. You head straight to the liquor table, Mattheo making you both a drink. He was secretly the best bartender, his drinks were perfect. 

“Thank you” you coo as he hands you the cup. 

“Okay you guys look good” Blaise walks up, “especially you” you grabs your hand and twirls you around.

“Why, thank you” you smile at him, kissing him on the cheek, leaving a lip stain mark.

“Hey tell your boyfriend to loosen up” he says to you. You turn to Mattheo to see him watching the party with his dead eyes.

Blaise walks away back to the party, “Matty why don’t we go dance?” you ask.

He breaks his stare to look back at you, “yeah, sure”

You guide him over to the dance floor area, throwing your arms around his shoulders. Your bodies touch as he places his hands on your back, making you shiver at contact.

“You look so sexy tonight” you say to him, just inches away.

“I think you win there” he smirks, “You make for the hottest bloody Bonnie”

“Hmm” you coo as you rest your head on his chest, still moving back and forth with him, “thank you for dressing up with me.”

“I mean, it’s no big deal-”

“Matty, seriously. You know how much it means to me” you say and you lift your head to look at him and smile lightly, “I love you.”

“I love you” he whispers back, almost like he’s breathless.

You continue to dance with him for a bit before you grab another drink and hang around the rest of the friend group. Theo, Blaise, and Draco dressed as skeletons. They wore suits with black and white skull makeup on their faces.

Mattheo stands behind you, his arms wrapped around you. Your arms lay on top of his as your back is pressed up against him.

“Didn’t Bonnie and Clyde die?” Theo asks, sipping his drink.

“Fuck off Theo” Mattheo responds immediately, “you know they did.”

You laugh before you add, “except we make it look a whole lot better.”

“The blood was a nice touch” Draco nonchalantly adds, Pansy hanging by right next to him. Pansy was dressed as a witch and had been hanging around Draco all night, go figure.

By this point, your heels were uncomfortable, forcing you to consistently shift the weight of you standing back and forth.

With every shift, Mattheo’s grip tightened until eventually, he stopped your movement whispering in your ear, “stop moving, you’re killing me”

You freeze before you turn around, your bodies still touching, “would you like to leave?”

“I was waiting for you to ask that, let’s get out of here” he smirks.

You back away from him, “guys we’re gonna go” you address the group.

Pansy smirks at you and Blaise says bye before Mattheo leads you out of the party and back to the Slytherin house, guiding you with a hand on your back.

When you reach his dorm, he shuts and locks the door behind you.

“I promised you this as long as you stayed at the party with me and you delivered your part…so let me deliver mine” you smirk as you take your top off, undoing the buttons one at a time.

“You’re such a tease” he says as he rips his tie off, “get over here” he says, sitting on the end of the bed.