#and I wanted the main focus to be on the black and brown boys since y’all always do them dirty 🙃

[starlooove]

My batfam gender sexuality hcs 🥰🥰🥰🥰:

Bruce: cishet he/him

Dick: cishet he/him

Jason: cishet he/him

Tim: cishet he/him

Steph: butch lesbian to ME! She/her but she’s trying out she/they and doesn’t know how to feel. Might fuck with neos but she’s not ready to take that step yet.

Cass: think early on in accepting that she’s a human being she’d psychoanalyze the fuck outta herself to see where she fits in and be super super super pressed about the entire thing to a detrimental point but as she progresses she’ll be fine. Lesbian, and she’s pretty sure she’s a girl most of the time sure 😄.

Duke: I think he knew he was not straight since he was young (moonlight opened his eyes and broke his heart) but he never really questioned his sexuality at all. The problem is that he doesn’t question it because the idea of gender roles (girls do this. Boys do that.) is so engrained in his mind that it’s not even something he thinks can be changed, if that makes sense? Anyways I don’t think he’s the type to get dysphoria he moreso experiences euphoria when exploring his gender identity. I think he would realize he has different views on his own gender when he sees other people expressing their own differently. Like genuinely he goes to school and sees another boy wearing lipstick and his brain blows up. As of this very moment he’s “exploring” but he’s actually a lil scared to genuinely confront himself about this and uses “there’s bigger problems in the world” to get out of it. End goal is non-binary but for now he’s at the veeeeeeery tail end of questioning.

Damian: I think at the moment Damian’s just not thinking about any of that but it’s in the opposite of duke; he knows he’s probably some kind of queer, both in sexuality and gender, but it’s just. Not top priority for him at the moment. I wanna bring up clothes rq bc, extra hc time, in MY mind Damian does express himself a lot through his clothing and getting to the manor made him a bit shy when it came to skirts and dresses. Seeing the way boys, and especially black and brown boys, who explore their femininity are treated, he just doesn’t mention it at all and the scenario never comes up. He gets more comfortable as time goes on though and later on gets bold enough to wear a dress to an event. He’s stonefaced but slightly regretting it till some younger kid sees him and is awe stricken, like stars in his eyes and asking if he can do that too. Damian feels better about it and resolves to wear whatever he wants more often. I don’t think he ever comes out in big big way (he’d tell the people closest to him but everyone else can just figure it out) but he genuinely doesn’t feel the need to label himself at all.

#the way y’all do Duke and Damián in these hc posts…. #Steph I wanted more for you truly but sorry ur unfortunately white #u get more than the boys but today ain’t about you 💔 #I WILL say buzzcut steph true #and she’s black in MY mind so in MY mind stud steph true #Cass I have a lot of thoughts about #like for me early on in her lil suicidal era I think she’d find the whole labelling thing complicated and stupid #but surface level deep inside she likes that idea of community but she doesn’t think she deserves it and it burns her #post trying to kill herself with Bruce’s full support #she throws herself into the idea of this community but she kinda like. wants a good grade in being queer as opposed to truly exploring- #-herself. comes to head when she just breaks like crying screaming throwing up and Steph is like ‘why do you even wanna do ts anyways’ #and cass doesn’t have an answer #she starts looking inwards and kinda. sets it up as a yes/no question tree for herself and lands with knowing she’s a lesbian but nothing #really concrete about her gender and she’s actually ok with that #imo she ends up with mirror pronouns #as in whatever you call yourself you can call her #I want it to be that earlier she was suffocating herself for others approval but now she’s allowing for vulnerability in a way that serves #her and her alone. this is in the tags and not the post bc y’all are actually pretty ok when it comes to cass in them hcs. #and I wanted the main focus to be on the black and brown boys since y’all always do them dirty 🙃 #and just to be mean #Bruce wayne #tim Drake #dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Duke Thomas #damian wayne #cassandra cain #Stephanie brown #btw bringing back my Joey soft adopting damian agenda: damian absolutely made sure Damian knew he could do whatever he wants. Damian’s not- #-used to feeling hesitant about this kinda thing but he’s double embarrassed and joey says he’ll wear the damn thing with him. he does

[onsunnyside]

🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands. 

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact. 

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks. 

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you. 

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying. 

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle. 

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage. 

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him. 

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed. 

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door. 

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes. 

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.” 

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool. 

"Wait! What are you doing!" 

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.  

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears. 

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?" 

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink. 

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?” 

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm. 

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch. 

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink. 

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts. 

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes. 

“Oh… It got dirty.” 

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.” 

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete. 

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon. 

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see.  A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be. 

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city. 

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note. 

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his. 

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.” 

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead. 

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery. 

“You liked the attention.” 

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.” 

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books. 

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money. 

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with. 

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.” 

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago. 

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so. 

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise. 

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you. 

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle. 

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window. 

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’  bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business. 

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson au #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x female reader #mafia ​ari levinson #mafia au #mafia!​ari levinson #ari levinson x you #reader insert #melting au #ari levinson x lovesick!reader #lovesick!reader #sonny’s stories #chris evans #Chris evans fanfic #Chris evans fanfiction #Chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #ari levinson fluff #lovesick reader #tw mafia #ari levinson x Stripper!reader #sweet!reader #ari levinson one shot #red sea diving resort

[wndaswife]

two slow dancers

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

tags: smut, fluff, angst, unspecified age gap, jealousy, strap-ons, cnc, manipulation, breast slapping, cunnilingus, hair pulling, slight spanking, belly bulges, degradation, praise, dumbification, mommy kink, breeding kink, piss kink, impact play, breast play, mentions of somnophilia, dom!wanda maximoff, sub!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 6996

summary: Your coworker invites you and a few others to celebrate New Year's Eve at her place, but all she wants to do is get you alone.

gif credit to creator.

Through your window, stray fireworks shoot up in the dusked horizon.

A week ago, your coworker, Wanda, invited you over for a New Year’s Eve gathering at her house. She started at the job no longer than a month ago, and you believe you’ve gotten relatively close with her since then.

Wanda Maximoff is thirty-four with an ex-husband and two twin boys you’ve never met. You’ve seen her ex once when he was dropping some things off for her at work. The exchange you observed could only be described as one between two vaguely similar creatures at best, interacting only out of necessity. They shared children and nothing more.

She took a liking to you in particular, and you were grateful for having her company for the last month.

She had a knack for offering comfort, and you often found yourself revealing to her some of your most intimate feelings and worries when you hadn’t even intended to. Wanda would always be so kindhearted, running a hand down your arm or squeezing your thigh gently while responding to you with supportive coos.

Now that the day of the party has come around, you’re standing in front of a mirror, holding up a pair of earrings to each side of your face. You survey the glistening faux emeralds, turning them around and observing them with great focus in the mirror before opting for a different pair.

“Are you ready?” a voice chimes from the hallway. 

Looking into the mirror, you see Monica step into your bedroom in a pair of black jeans and a warm blue-green long sleeve. 

“Just about…” you mutter, putting on a pair of pearl earrings. Turning around to face your friend, you ask, “Does it match?”

After a moment of deliberation, Monica nods. “Yeah, it matches,” she confirms and heads over to your bed to get your purse. “Who are you dressing up for, huh?” she inquires, a grin forming on her face as she looks over at you getting your jacket on. “Wanda?”

Your eyes snap over to her too quickly to hide your peaked interest at your coworker’s name. “What?” you chuckle out nervously. You lean down to pick up a pair of flats from your closet, thankful for the way your hair shrouded your suddenly-flushed face.

With crossed arms, Monica approaches your bedroom door as she looks down at you, amused.

“N-No,” you finally answer. “I just want to look good. It’s New Year’s Eve.”

“Sure,” Monica says simply, nodding. She hooks her arm around yours and leaves the bedroom with you.

You carpool to Wanda’s house together, as plans were to meet everyone there at a certain time. Despite having left early, Monica takes a wrong turn and you end up getting caught in traffic as the car takes the main roads to Wanda’s place.

Finally, you arrive at your destination about half an hour late.

With her homemade mango float and your bottle of champagne, Monica hopes the both of you can apologise to Wanda for the late arrival. She makes a joke that Wanda wouldn’t mind in the slightest if the two of you came even two hours late so long as you were arriving with her. 

The front door to Wanda’s house opens, revealing your coworker with her brown hair let down, and you notice for the first time how long it is. Today, she is wearing a bit of blush and a darker red lip than she normally wears for work.

Her eyes flicker between you and Monica before Monica lifts up a covered dish of mango float, breaking the brief silence.

“We’re sorry for how late we are. Traffic,” she says, a sheepish smile forming on her face.

As if returning to the present, Wanda blinks and smiles. “It's quite alright,” she reassures.

Just then, Darcy pops up behind Wanda and reaches her arms out to take the mango float from Monica’s hands. “Thank you,” she says graciously, eyeing the tinfoiled dish as if she would take a whole bite out of it then and there, tinfoil and ceramic material included. 

“Hey, Y/N. Happy New Year’s Eve,” she greets with a grin.

“Hi, Darcy,” you reply with a smile and a little wave.

Monica steps into the house and takes her boots and jacket off. Darcy leads her into the house.

Then, it’s only you and Wanda standing at the front door.

“Oh dear, how rude of me,” your coworker says. “Please, sweetheart, come in.” She ushers you into her house and tucks a hand under your jacket, making your back straighten. If she notices your sudden jerk of tension, she says nothing of it. Her hand loops around your waist to your furthest hip so her arm embraces you under your jacket.

Her hand reaches down below your eyeline while you’re looking up at her. You’re hugged against her side, swallowing your nerves but trembling all the same.

“Is this for me?” she whispers, grinning as if amused.

All you can manage in response is an idiotic, “Wh-What?”

A bottle of champagne is lifted up so you can see it and, with her eyes, Wanda gestures to it.

“Oh,” you say, then clear your throat. “Yeah, that’s for you. For everyone, kind of.”

Wanda hums and examines the bottle. Her eyes return to you and she smiles again. “We can say it’s for everyone to appease the guests,” she suggests and removes her arm from around your body. She begins to take off your jacket with her free hand and you slip your other arm out of the sleeve. She hangs your jacket up for you, and with her hand against your lower back, leads you out of the front foyer and into the living room.

Familiar happy faces greet you once you enter the living room with some women lounging on the couches and some standing around.

Jen, Darcy, Natasha and her younger sister Yelena, an unfamiliar girl who you would later find is named Kate, and Carol all exchange greetings with you.

Wanda’s hand leaves your lower back and you turn to watch her place your champagne on the kitchen counter with a few other bottles of wine and a cooler of what you suppose is filled with sparklers and beer.

Monica pulls you down onto the couch and you take a seat between her and Darcy. 

You think you see a flash of Wanda eyeing you from across the living room from beyond the passthrough window that connects the living room and the kitchen, but when you look over to her, she’s already starting a conversation with Jennifer. 

You tell yourself that you’ll talk with Wanda later.

A body suddenly sprawls itself out across the laps of you and the two other women on either side of you, thus taking your attention away from Wanda.

Carol stretches herself out in front of the three of you.

“Happy New Year’s Eve, Y/N,” she says with a grin that reminds you all too well of a golden retriever. 

You respond with an equally large smile, “Happy New Year’s Eve, Carol.”

The afternoon passes swiftly, especially with Wanda hosting. Not a moment passes when there aren’t drinks nor fresh snacks and food available along the kitchen counter. She’s an extremely attentive host, engaging herself in conversation and ensuring everyone is well taken care of.

Wanda also gave everyone a tour of her house during which she got endless compliments on nearly every room she introduced. 

Eventually, all of you gather around the dining room table playing a board game Kate brought and are divided into two teams. You have no idea how to play.

At the sight of your confused expression, Wanda places a hand dangerously close to your ass and pulls you close to her under the table. 

“Do you know how to play, darling?” she inquires with a curious tip of her head.

When you tell her you don’t, she invites you to sit beside her and stay on her team. She tells you she’s played it with her twins and ex-husband a handful of times and that she’ll help you through it.

You settle in the chair beside Wanda and move yourself closer to the table.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here!” Monica announces and rushes over from the washroom. “What team should I join?”

“Join Y/N’s,” Wanda suggests. “I do believe couples should avoid all competition if possible.”

A few laughs and confused expressions are exchanged around the table.

“Cou…” you trail off and look up at Monica, who looks equally as confused as you. “What?”

“We’re not together,” Monica corrects with an awkward smile and a chuckle.

“Oh, you aren’t?” she repeats, looking between the two of you. You recall the way she looked at the two of you when you arrived together and when you took a seat beside Monica on the couch before. Though it was true that you and Monica were close, one would truly have to reach to come to the conclusion that you were dating each other.

Then, Wanda laughs. “I was under the impression that you were. My apologies,” she says.

The misunderstanding is easily forgotten because Wanda only started working with all of you about a month ago. Anyone could understand the mistake. But even so, your face remains flushed as you think back to the curious stares you got from her, and you were caught up in the momentary glint of envy behind each one.

Monica takes a seat beside Darcy, on the other team across the table.

Kate sets up the game and Wanda pours everyone a glass of the champagne you brought and leaves the bottle in the middle of the table for anyone to refill their glasses.

“Come closer, Y/N,” Wanda whispers once Yelena and Kate begin explaining the rules of the game. She wraps her fingers under your chair and moves your chair closer to her. 

Wanda’s arm remains comfortably wrapped around your waist despite your occasional movements. You watch her concentrated face, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she listens to the rest of the game instructions all while her hand is running up and down your side as if you were an idle pet.

A pressure forms between your thighs and you adjust your position on your chair.

The game becomes increasingly amusing the more all of you sip at glasses of champagne and some on their bottles of beer, steadily growing more tipsy.

At some point during the game, Wanda’s arm leaves from around your waist, after which her hand ends up finding your thigh instead. Absentmindedly, her hand moves up and down your thigh, her fingers sometimes rounding your leg and squeezing.

Now that you were tipsy, you’d become significantly sensitive, shuddering under her touch and having difficulty playing your part of the game. Your face feels warm, which doesn’t help the blush that you know is there.

After the other team gains an advantage of six points against yours, they’re deemed the winners and everyone helps clean up. They decide to watch a movie and Wanda leaves the dining room momentarily to show them how to work the remote and the television.

There are plans to play a different game afterwards and you hear Wanda say she has it upstairs and will fetch it so it’s ready once the movie starts.

“Come help me, Y/N,” she says as she passes through the dining room to the staircase. Wanda stops at the base of the stairs and lets you catch up with her before you ascend together.

You follow beside her quietly, looking around curiously at the second floor. You’d seen it before when Wanda gave the tour of the house, but it was different now that it was empty other than for you and her. 

With the silence, you could envision Wanda living here on her own, heading upstairs in the evening and descending in the mornings. For the first time, you feel a sort of pity for Wanda’s living circumstances. It’s a quiet house, and rather large. It’s New Year’s Eve and you haven't seen Tommy, Billy, or even her ex-husband. 

You follow behind Wanda when she unlocks her bedroom door and steps in. 

“How are you enjoying the evening so far, sweet girl?” she asks. It’s only when Wanda looks over her shoulder at you that you redirect your attention from her bedroom. 

“Oh,” you answer idly then clear your throat. “I’m enjoying myself. It’s been really fun.”

When Wanda reaches her closet, she opens it and leans down to dig through a pile of boxes. Your eyes instinctively move to the curve of her ass, but you force yourself to look away and at the dresses and coats hanging in the closet. 

“What are you enjoying about it, sweetheart?” Wanda asks once she straightens and closes the closet with her free hand. In her other hand, a few stacked boxes of board games. She approaches you and you struggle to answer her.

It’s incredible what a fool you become around her.

Wanda smiles and sets the board games atop the corner of her bed. She raises her hand to your face and strokes your cheek with her knuckles. “You’re so young,” she whispers. The words themselves didn’t sound entirely like a compliment nor insult, but her eyes that are softened in gentle admiration tells you otherwise. 

You swallow and make a noise that was supposed to sound like a ‘thank you,’ or at least an acknowledgement of her commendation.

“Come here,” Wanda says, her hand dropping to your own. She takes it and leads you towards her vanity. She lifts your arm and with her other hand on your hip, moves you forward to round the seat that’s in front of vanity. Then, two hands are placed on your hips from behind and Wanda guides you into sitting down.

In the mirror, you can see her looming above you from behind. But Wanda isn’t looking in the mirror. She’s looking down at you from above. Her hands move upwards, up your sides and up the sides of your breasts, then to your shoulders. Finally, her hands find each side of your head where Wanda finally does look up at the mirror.

Careful fingers brush your hair back behind your ears.

“These are pretty, Y/N,” she tells you. Her thumbs flick at your pearl earrings.

You blush and utter a quiet, “Thank you.”

Wanda smiles at your graciousness and runs the backs of her fingers down the sides of your face. She continues to do this for the next few moments, alternating between the tips of her fingers to her thumbs to the backs of her fingers, exploring your face gently. With a featherweight pressure, she runs her fingers across your bottom lip, your brow bone, your forehead and your temples.

You watch in silence as she does so.

Green eyes flicker up from your face and into your eyes through the mirror. They wrinkle at the edges when she smiles slightly.

“Turn to me,” she instructs and you do while she leans forward and digs through a box on top of her vanity.

When Wanda straightens, you’re looking right up at her. Your legs are dangling off the other side of the chair and your face is in front of her stomach. Her hand cups your cheek and she positions a mascara wand in front of your face.

“Look up,” she says. When you look up at the bedroom ceiling, Wanda moves the wand forward. She brushes your eyelashes gently, retouching your makeup, and you’re tempted to look down at her but do not lest you get mascara on your eyebrow.

Her thumb strokes at the corner of your mouth.

Then, suddenly, Wanda whispers, “My boys didn’t want to spend New Year’s with me.”

At her words, you look down at her immediately. She clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth in forewarning and you look back up to the ceiling,

You question, “Why?”

“Perhaps… their father is more attuned to celebration and I am not,” she supposes. 

“Why didn’t you celebrate together?” you ask and instantly bite your tongue for asking too much. But Wanda’s thumb continues to stroke the corner of your mouth and she shows no sign of irritation.

“They didn’t want to,” she answers. Wanda moves to your other eye. “Almost done.”

There’s a momentary silence between the two of you until you ask, “When will you see them next?”

“I presume the first week of January,” she thinks aloud. “Some time then.”

Wanda inhales softly but you hear the long drag of her breath. 

“Are your parents together, Y/N?” she asks.

“No, they divorced when I was younger.”

With a nod, Wanda says, “I see.” 

Then after a moment, she speaks again, “Was there ever any partiality?”

“It was hard sometimes, from what I remember,” you answer. Wanda nods. “But I really loved both of them the same. They were my parents. They did love me, I always knew that.”

Wanda’s hand leaves your cheek and she reaches back to twist it back into its bottle. “Finished,” she states and lifts a handheld mirror to your face. She tucks your hair back behind your ears. “Look how pretty you are.”

“Wanda,” you whisper.

She looks from the mirror and over to you, lips parted. “What is it?” 

“There isn’t a moment your boys don’t know how much you love them. How could they?” you uttered quietly. “And they love you because of it. Loving them is, essentially, one of the greatest things you can do for a kid. Any child would be extremely lucky to have you as their mother. You mustn't think they don’t know that. They’ll come back to you. I promise you they will.”

Wanda only stares down at you, her eyebrows still slightly pushed together. Her lips twitch in a miniscule, hardly noticeable way, and you wouldn’t have noticed it had you not been staring at them- the soft curves and the full faded-red shade of them.

Her finger hooks under your chin and she sets the mirror down on the edge of the vanity seat. She tugs her finger up carefully and you stand from your seat, but Wanda leans down quick enough to kiss your lips and you stumble back down onto it. Her hands find your hips then round them to your ass, squeezing harshly and pulling you up.

Clumsily, you trip forward against her, but Wanda steadies you. She turns you and makes you walk backwards into her bed.

The back of your knees meet with the edge of her bed and you sit back. Her wrists escape your hold and she slips her cardigan off, then her shirt. You lean forward and kiss her stomach, peppering kisses upwards while you unbutton her jeans and pull them down to her ankles.

Wanda reaches down and unzips your dress. She pushes its sleeves from your shoulders and eagerly pulls it down to your waist. With a hand on your shoulder, she pushes you back onto the bed and you move backwards atop of it so Wanda can pull your dress from your hips. She tosses it onto the foot of her bed and runs her hands up your thighs as she straightens.

She delivers a spank to the side of your ass and with a swift wave of her hand, pushes the board games from her bed, sending them toppling down to the floor.

You move further backwards onto her bed and Wanda gets on. She starts at your knees, parting your thighs slowly as she moves up your body. 

Wanda nips at your inner thighs, sucking at your skin and running her tongue up anywhere she could. Her hands find your ass again and she lifts you up from the bed momentarily so she could nudge her nose against your clothed clit. She grins at your muffled whimper and nips at your hip teasingly. She peppers wet kisses up your stomach and up to the valley of your breasts.

Her hands on your ass move up your body and find the clasp of your bra, taking it off and tossing it somewhere behind her. She gropes your breasts with both hands and moans appreciatively. She pinches your nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

Her grin widens. “Look how cute you are, huh?” she muses and plays with your tits in her hands, massaging them thoroughly and tugging at your nipples.

Straddling your hips and rolling them forward slightly to rub her clothed pussy against your thigh, Wanda pushes your breasts together and leans down to flick her tongue across each of your nipples. She kisses your breasts and then your painfully erect nipples, making you shudder. Her lips wrap around one of your buds, suckling at you and raking her teeth against you.

Your back lifts from the bed, pushing your breasts further against Wanda’s face as you moan out. Her free hand gropes your tit, her thumb having a particularly enjoyable time playing with your nipple.

“Feels good, baby?” she asks, looking up at you.

You hum out in response because you can’t manage any real words.

Wanda grins at your incapacity and switches breasts. Her saliva cools your other nipple in her mouth’s wake. Her other hand takes hold of one of yours and brings it up to your breast, making you fondle yourself.

The speed of her hips quicken and Wanda’s lips release from your nipple to moan out, her exhale warm against your skin. She straightens herself and moves to sit on your lower stomach, detaching her cunt from your thigh. You can see a darkened patch of her slick against her red panties.

She reaches back and unclips her bra.

Your cheeks and ears become warm as her tits push against your face when Wanda leans down and kisses your forehead. 

“Touch mommy’s breasts, puppy. Don’t be shy,” she utters against your forehead before sitting up and running her hands up your chest.

You reach up and press your hands to her breasts like she asked, fingers squeezing around them and making Wanda moan out. Her hips begin rolling forward against your stomach as she craves friction once more.

She squeezes your tits again, paying special attention to your hardened buds. 

Then Wanda reaches forward, her breasts only mere inches from your face once again. You hear her dig through her nightstand while you hold onto her shoulders, looking up at her face. She smiles over at you appreciatively when you kiss the side of her breast.

When she closes the nightstand and sits up, she’s holding some type of harness and a rather large black dildo. She watches your expression closely, smiling at the shock that comes over you. “Interested, my sweet girl?” she asks you with a quirked eyebrow.

You swallow nervously and Wanda slips off the bed. You watch her slip her panties off and run a few fingers through her cunt. She leans forward and sticks them into your mouth. You wrap your lips around her fingers immediately. 

She curls them in your mouth and you suck from them eagerly.

Wanda smiles and slips her fingers out once they’re cleaned of her juices. She strokes your cheek then pulls away to finish inserting the dildo and strapping the harness around her hips. 

When Wanda mounts the bed again and straddles your hips, she lays her cock across your lower stomach. Her hand reaches down between the two of you and pulls your panties down your legs.

Cold fingers press against your bare cunt and a small smile forms on Wanda’s lips at the shudder that runs through your body at the contact. She draws wide circles against your clit, her middle finger slowly entering and exiting your hole. She traces your opening with the pad of her finger while her free hand plays with your hair.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” she says, looking down at your naked body. Her fingers release their hold on your hair and she runs her fingers through the valley of your breasts all while you squirm below her. “So perfect. These beautiful tits and your young body. Gods, even at your age, I never looked like this.”

“You’re…” you manage to say through your whimpers, “... beautiful too, Wanda.”

She smiles at that but her thoughts are indiscernible. 

Now thoroughly saturated with your cum, Wanda wraps her hand around her cock, jerking it softly and coating it with your juices. Moving her hips back slightly, she positions herself against your opening. 

She lowers herself to your face, your breasts pushed up against hers as she kisses the tip of your nose. 

You feel her begin to enter you and a surge of panic quickens your heartbeat. “W-Wanda, no, it’s too big,” you plead, turning your head to look at her as she buries her nose against your cheek. 

“It’ll fit,” she presses.

“No, it won-”

You’re cut off as Wanda’s hips advance forward. You feel yourself begin to stretch out for her and your eyes shut tightly. You’re wet enough for her to glide against you, but you can’t stretch enough for her- she’s too big. It won’t fit. She’ll break you in half.

“Wanda, please!” you cry against her.

“Mommy,” Wanda corrects, hissing against your temple, “will make it fit. Just be a good girl and stay still.”

Your face contorts into something tight and anguished.

Once Wanda fits her tip past your opening, her speed of entering you quickens and you cry out, reaching up and trying to push her off of you.

She raises her hand to your breast and slaps it harshly, making you pull away from her and withdraw your arms. She gropes it, fingernails digging into your skin. 

“Do not move,” Wanda commands, each word thumping heavily against your ears as she speaks from beyond clenched teeth. She releases your breast and takes a hold of both of your wrists before holding them up above your head.

“I’m not above tying you down, Y/N,” she jests with a grin though you know her words are more than partially true. The words send a chill up your spine and you feel a shameful sense of warmth spread through you despite yourself.

She buries her face in your neck and kisses her way up to your ear. “Just relax, my beautiful girl. It’ll hurt less,” she hushes. “Mommy will take good care of you.” 

Her lips wrap around your lobe and she sucks softly at the flaccid skin. Her warm saliva cools your skin in the wake of her lips when Wanda moves towards your face. Her nose rubs against your temple, then her cheek against your own as a mother would her young. 

Her lips are pressed against your cheek and she continues to whisper soft praises and words of encouragement against your flushed skin, her warm breath cocooning you in a snug embrace.

Your hips finally come into contact with Wanda’s and you whimper. Every movement you make creates a pressure in the base of your spine, reminding you that you have the largest cock you’ve ever taken deep inside of you.

“Ah, do you see?” Wanda coos. “You took it all.”

With a shaky exhale, you nod. You open your eyes to see Wanda smiling down at you warmly and you suddenly feel extremely proud of yourself.

She kisses you tenderly and utters against your lips, “You’re such a smart girl. So bright,” she murmurs. “Mommy knows how to take care of you, doesn’t she?”

You nod with a happy smile and kiss her again.

Wanda laughs softly through her nose and kisses the space between your eyebrows when you part from the kiss. “Now, I don’t want to see you disobey me again. You ought to know how helpless and dumb you are without me. Good smart girls listen to their mommies,” she instructs.

“Yes, mommy. Wanna be a good girl,” you affirm, wiggling joyfully underneath her. The pressure of Wanda’s cock returns as you wiggle your hips so you stop immediately, though you feel an urge to buck your hips upwards to see what it would feel like.

“That’s what I like to hear,” she praises and pecks your lips, her tone suddenly maternal. She sits up again and takes hold of your hips with both hands, pulling you forward so the lower half of your body rests atop her lap. 

She pulls your ass against her lower stomach, her hips moving forward and moving her cock deep inside you.

You squirm and only feel it deeper within you, her strap stretching you out as it moves either way while fitting snugly between your walls. 

Then Wanda begins thrusting forward. With your thighs wrapped weakly around her waist, she thrusts her hips against your ass. 

Your head falls back against the pillow and your eyes screw shut at the immense pressure that forms at the base of your spine.

“Fuck, malyshka,” Wanda grunts, “you’re tight.” She places her hand on your lower stomach, drawing soothing circles there with her palm. The act relaxes you slightly and Wanda quickens her thrusts. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and restrain a cry. “Mama, too big…” you slur out, grasping at the bed sheets underneath you.

She responds, “You’ll take it, fucking slut.” Wanda pulls out of you suddenly and flips you onto your stomach. With her hands on your hips, she tugs you forward and sticks your ass into the air. She enters your cunt again and you cry out into a pillow. But Wanda does not take precautions she previously did. Her hips pick up speed and she slams forward into your ass repeatedly.

The slapping of skins mingle with the sounds of your muffled cries and Wanda’s grunts.

With the last fragments of capability you have to think independently, you hope desperately that none of the guests downstairs come through the door. You don’t realise how far ahead Wanda had planned when she first took you upstairs, nor the fact that she locked the door.

Your cries steadily turn into moans of pleasure if not fucked out of you with each thurst against your ass. Your hands unclench from the bed sheets but your face is still pressed into Wanda’s pillow. 

Her front presses against your back and Wanda’s groans exhale against the side of your neck.

“Tell mommy you love her cock,” she instructs, then kisses your shoulder.

Your words are slurred against the pillow as you answer, “I love your cock, mama.” You move your head so your lips are exposed to the air and your repeated words can be heard more clearly, but what comes out is no more discernible than before.

Wanda kisses the side of your neck and straightens. This time, she takes you with her, pulling you up so you’re sitting on her lap, your back still pressed against her front. Your knees are on the outer sides of Wanda’s, your legs spread as you sit on her lap. 

You can feel her nipples grazing against your back as Wanda thrusts upwards into you.

With this position, your moans are expelled into the room that already seems to you to be muggy with the scent of sex and the hot pants from the two of you.

She buries her face in your neck, wrapping her lips around your pulse and sucking. She bites down on another spot, causing you to cry out and jerk forward. But she wraps her hands around your waist, keeping you in place.

Her eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts, and with an amused and nearly sadistic smirk, she slaps one of your tits, and then the other. You hear her chuckle against your neck between your yelps. Both hands then grope your breasts, massaging harshly and twisting your nipples callously. 

“Mama, no, that hurts,” you whimper pathetically, squirming on her lap.

Wanda hums, uninterested in your pleading. She kisses your shoulder. “Mommy hurts you because she loves you, puppy,” she says. 

One of her hands moves down to your lower stomach. Her hand brushes over the bulge there, feeling the way it pushes against her hand with every one of her thrusts into your pussy. The heel of her hand presses down without warning. Immense pressure shoots through you and makes your clit throb.

You cry out and you feel your walls squeeze around Wanda’s cock. A different kind of pressure that you can’t quite discern forms in your lower stomach.

“My pretty brainless fucktoy,” Wanda coos into your ear. 

You feel warm pride bloom within you, but you can only manage a garbled, “Thank you, mommy.”

“I want to fill you with my children,” she pants into your ear. Her hips quicken as she continues, evidently turned on by what she’s saying. Your body jerks on top of her lap helplessly, your breasts bouncing at each harsh thrust and making it impossible for Wanda not to continue playing with them.

“Come in your pussy and fill your tight hole full of my hot cream,” she says. “I want you to carry my children. I want to see your pretty belly full of my puppies, to see our babies as cute as you. I want to come home from work to fuck my adorable little housewife dumb, until you can only take more of my seed, filling you over and over like the willing little breeding bitch you are.” 

Wanda reaches up and takes the lower half of your face into her hand harshly. She turns your head and kisses you. Despite her words and the harsh way she’s fucking you, despite the brusing handling of your breasts and the bites she delivered to your neck, her kiss is soft and possessive, her lips moving against yours in soft embraces as if worshiping them.

“You’ll be mommy’s precious cockwhore. I’ll fuck your pussy whenever it pleases me. If you’re angry with mama, if you’re sleeping, if we’re out together- I won’t spare any mercy in taking you for my own,” she grunts with the effort she’s putting into fucking you. “From now on, you’re mine.”

Her hand reaches down and she brushes three fingers side-to-side against your clit, sending you throttling forward and closer to your orgasm. 

Wanda kisses up your neck adoringly, nipping where she can and sucking at your skin soothingly. “Come for mommy, moya lyubov,” she whispers against your cheek then kisses it. “Let me see my perfect little girl.” Her free hand rounds your waist. The heel of her hand presses into your tummy bulge and her fingers pick up speed.

The indiscernible pressure in your lower stomach from earlier suddenly flowers, and at the slightest taste of your orgasm, it comes into fruition. You wince and hide your face in the mess of Wanda’s sweet-smelling hair, and a warm burst of release streams out of you.  

Wanda inhales sharply and her lips part from your neck so she can look down your body where you’re pissing all over her lap.

Your body is fatigued and now acting on its own without any conscious thought, leaving you to Wanda’s mercy as she takes your body for her own. In your complete abandonment of independence, it’s only Wanda who’s holding you up and keeping you warm.

“Oh, Y/N,” she whispers, in awe at your release. Her lips form into a grin and she kisses you. Her hand wraps around her dick, carefully pulling it out of your pathetically wet hole. She lets go of her cock and she slowly slides her hand up your cunt, allowing her hand and fingers to be soaked by your piss. “That’s a good, good girl. That’s right. Just let go, baby.”

Your cries release in short, trembling whimpers and Wanda kisses up your cheek. She presses a kiss to your soft lips.

While you quiver on her lap, your walls clenching hard around nothing and getting used to being empty after taking mommy’s thick cock, Wanda unfastens her strap from around her hips.

She lays you down carefully, onto your back. She kisses your breast, lips grazing your nipple and making you shudder. She watches you pant and squirm weakly with a smile as she slips the harness from her ankles and lays it on the edge of the bed.

The bed dips around you as you slip in and out of sleep. When the bed dips by your head, you open your eyes and find yourself looking up at Wanda. Even while dazed, you’re struck by the sight of her- her cascading hair and her breasts, the plain of her stomach and the creamy white porcelain shade of her soft skin.

Wanda caresses your cheek with her hand and when her knee brushes against your ear, you realise they’re on either side of your head. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you say suddenly, looking up at the older woman with nothing but admiration in the glints of your eyes.

She smiles, though from the angle you’re laying at, you can’t see the soft blush that forms across her face at your words.

Unlike before, it seems that Wanda does believe in the genuinity of your words. It reaches her, embracing her in a way she hasn’t been in years.

“Thank you,” she answers, stroking her thumb across your cheekbone. Then she lowers herself, her cunt pressing up against the lower half of your face.

She throws her head back immediately, one hand going to grip at the headboard and the other grasping at your hair painfully. A long moan escapes her and Wanda begins rolling her hips forward and back.

You part your lips, immediately taken by the taste of her pussy. You dart your tongue out and allow Wanda to ride the stiff muscle. She jerks her hips to the side slightly, teasing her clit and making her clench around nothing.

When the tip of your nose nudges against her sensitive bud, Wanda shudders and chases the feeling quickly, rolling her hips further up and now riding your face steadily. You take your breaths in time with the rolling of Wanda’s hips when your nose is uncovered.

Your lips, chin, and nose are completely coated in her cum, and you feel it begin to glaze your cheeks over in its sticky coating too. Your lips make a circular shape against her cunt, allowing you to suck at her hole then at the rim of it, which Wanda finds particularly pleasurable, evident by the way her thighs tighten around your head.

“Fuck, puppy…” she moans. “So… good. You’re talented.”

With a jerking motion, you turn your head and create a certain friction against Wanda’s pussy that makes her screw her eyes shut and huff out.

The tip of your tongue raises and teases at her hole before delving into her. With her clit pressed down against your nose, Wanda reaches her hilt. Her fingers grip at your hair painfully, pulling you up against her pussy. Her thighs tremble and a melody of pleasured moans and pants mingle.

She climbs off from sitting on your face and sits beside your hip, one leg on the bed and the other dangling off of it. Her thumb runs across your cheek. “What a mess you’ve made of yourself, Y/N,” she states, her voice a low thrum. “Let me clean you up.”

While you doze off in her bed, an indefinite amount of time passing, Wanda soon returns in a red silk robe that only just covers her ass after having redone and retouched her own makeup. She takes a seat at the edge of the bed. She leans over you and with a cool soft cloth, wipes your smudged makeup off.

Her elbow is holding herself up while she pets your head with her free hand. She wipes your makeup and the beads of sweat from your face.

Once she finishes, she lays the cloth on her nightstand and looks down at you. She kisses your face, slowly, all over your forehead and cheeks, your closed eyes, your chin, and finally, your lips. 

“There we go,” Wanda whispers. She touches your face with her fingers while watching you slowly awaken from your brief nap. “You’re very pretty, Y/N. You’re so young…” she says quietly, looking down at you with a small smile, “and your skin is so soft.”

You finally open your eyes and Wanda’s smile widens.

Subtle, muffled music plays downstairs.

“They must be getting close to the end of the movie,” Wanda says. She places her hand between your breasts and draws invisible shapes on your chest with the tips of her fingers. “It's one of my favourites. I won’t spoil it for you. I think we should watch it together, just the two of us.”

The soft hymn continues to play downstairs. 

“I love this song too,” she adds. “Come dance with me. Then we can get ready to join the others again.” Wanda stands from the bed and, while you sit up, retrieves a soft fleece blanket from her closet. She returns to you and wraps it around your shoulders.

You stand from the bed and Wanda pulls you against her chest, her arms wrapped around your shoulders and back, keeping you cocooned by the warm blanket. She tucks your head under her chin. 

“Thank you for what you said earlier, Y/N,” Wanda whispers. “Those were very kind words. I’ll treasure them eternally.”

You nuzzle your face against her chest. “I meant it,” you say.

“I know.”

Wanda cradles the back of your head with her hand, her fingers scratching gently at your scalp. She hums along with the barely-audible music downstairs while the two of you sway in the middle of her bedroom.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut

[aquaburst3]

There is an ongoing debate in the fandom where some people wish TWST was an otome while others are firmly against it. For me? I'm somewhere in the middle. Because, to be honest, I don't think TWST would work well as a traditional otome game as some might think.

For one, that would automatically mean giving Yuu a defined gender, appearance and personality. While I'm all for giving Yuu more personality, since they have the presence of a bottle cap, that would strip away the self insert nature of their character. Part of the fun of being in this fandom is imagining how you or your OC would handle being in that world. It allows marginalized groups to imagine themselves in that world, especially black and brown people, men and genderqueer people. Let's face it. Most otome protagonists are shit with a few exceptions. In all likelihood TWST would be no different if it was an otome. Frankly, I have little faith in Yana's ability as a writer to create a compelling female otome lead.

There are way too many characters in the game for that to work. Most otomes have 3-7 love interests. TWST has 20 main characters, excluding Ortho and Lilia for obvious reasons. The game has a hard enough time juggling all of the boy's arcs and development without adding romance into the mix.

I think turning it into an otome would also affect the characterization of these guys as well. Unless something is a dark otome like Diabolik Lovers, which—let's face it—Disney would never allow or extremely well written, otomes tend to sanitize the love interests to some extent in order to make them seem more desirable to the player. With main appeal of the game being that most of the boys are complex and grey, that would go the drain if it was an otome.

Plus, it wouldn't focus as much on the boy's platonic relationships. The main appeal of an otome is them romancing the player. A lot of the time they neglect all of the other kinds of bonds to only focus on that. While there are exceptions, again, this is Yana we're talking about, so I doubt she can pull that off. That would be another appeal of the game down the drain as well.

What I think would work a lot better is the Persona/Fate route. Have only a select few characters be romanceable and the rest stay strictly platonic, being able to bond with characters in both regards of your own choosing. That way we can have the best of both worlds. People who aren't into romance can play the game strictly platonically while picking who they want to spend time with. Those who do want romance can seek that out as well. Plus, the main boys would stay pretty close to how they are now. Yuu would also have more of a presence and impact on the plot.

There's a catch. For that to work, there can only be a few possible characters to romance. If I was in charge of that decision, I would make it the overblot boys. They have the most development and care put into their backstory, so I think they would work the best as potential love interests.

Idk, that's just me.

#aqua rambles #twisted wonderland #twst otome

[chalkysgarbagefire]

He Ain’t Heavy - 1984 - 14

1984 - 14

Rain pattered against the window, softened only by the crooning of Marty Robbins and his gunslinger ballads. Had he known he was gonna have a kid in less than twenty four hours, he would have picked better music. Not that it would have made a lick of difference--he had no idea what the youth of today listened to. Besides, who didn’t like ‘Big Iron’?

Wayne drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, focusing on the maw of darkness stretching before them, instead of the heavy gaze coming from the backseat.

“You like Marty Robbins, boy?” He looked in the rear view mirror just in time to see the kid’s gaze drop.

“Marty Robbins is fine, sir.”

Wayne huffed in amusement---sir. Nobody had called him that since his military days. “Uncle Wayne or Wayne will do just fine.”

“Yes sir--I-I mean Wayne. Uncle.”

He turned the mirror to get a better look at the kid. An angry purple welt nearly engulfed his left eye, leaving a sliver of brown to peek out from the swollen skin. He had such large eyes, dark and deep, and so full of fear---just like his mama’s.

A lump formed in his throat. Shoulda been there sooner.

“You still go by Edward?” The question came out gruff, all rough edges. Maybe with time, he could wear those corners down.

Tension bled into the silence as he watched the kid gnaw on his lower lip. The skin was chapped and red--a repeated habit. Then his hands scrubbed through the stubbly buzz cut, his eyes darting back to Wayne, then back to his chewed nails and ragged cuticles.

He tried again, softer this time. “What do you want to be called?”

As expected, the kid responded with a full body flinch before blurting out, “Eddie.” A moment later, softer and quieter, “Can I go by Eddie?”

Right. Edward was his daddy. “Sure, Eddie.”

Wayne sighed. How is it that of all the relatives, extended families, and aunts once and twice removed, Eddie ended up here? Sure, Maybe Wayne wasn’t the worst option-- he had a steady job, lived a quiet albeit isolated life, and paid his taxes-- but that only confirmed that the standard set for guardianship was abysmally low.

Of course, he had to consider who had set the standard in the first place. He didn’t need to ask his nephew who’d given him the black eye and put the fear of God in him.

At least Wayne had enough sense to snap the branches of their family tree. There would be no more fuckups from the Munson family, no-siree. Just himself, a barren limb all on its own.

Well. Alone with the newly grafted sapling currently withering in the backseat. He turned his focus back to the road, watching daylight slowly creep over the horizon through the gloom.

They still had a long drive ahead of them.

+++++++

It was late morning by the time they arrived at the trailer park. The rain had stopped, leaving the air heavy with the promise of a muggy afternoon.

He pulled up to the trailer, throwing the truck in park. He couldn’t imagine what was running through his nephew’s mind. Eddie had bounced from a house (if you could call it that--his brother’s house was borderline condemned), to a foster home (which Wayne had thankfully not visited) to a trailer. It was a nice tin can, nicer than wherever Eddie had laid his head, but still a tin can nonetheless. It would have to do, at least until the kid was eighteen.

In the meantime though, he had no clue what to do, outside meeting basic needs.

That was the main problem; he had no idea what Eddie was actually thinking. Sure, he could read the kid--it didn’t take a genius to see the boy was terrified out of his mind--but that didn’t tell him what Eddie wanted, what he needed, or who he was. The kid had spoken all of four sentences on the way down, only speaking when spoken to.

The thought made his gut clench.

It wasn’t that he minded the quiet--Wayne wasn’t much of a talker himself. Too many people were doing the talking already, so he was more than happy to do the listening. What bothered him more was the fact that the teenager in the backseat was worse than a stranger--he was a ghost. There was no trace of the little boy who doodled in the margins of his mother’s postcards.

Those wide eyes had remained shuttered the drive over and remained closed to observation.

Wayne cleared his throat, watching as Eddie tightened the grip on his seatbelt. “It ain’t much, but it’s home.” He gestured out the window. “Folks typically keep to themselves here, but they’re nice enough. Might even be a few people your age around.” Hopefully something different would be good--for both of them.

They loitered in the cab a moment, waiting each other out. A beat passed before Wayne broke the stalemate. If he wanted the car unloaded sometime in this century, he’d have to make the first move. “C’mon, let me show you to your room.”

There was a tell-tale click of the seatbelt, followed by an even longer pause. “...My room?

He shrugged his shoulders. “Teenagers need their privacy.”

Wayne was already unpacking the other side of the truck, pulling a battered cardboard box from the seat. The rain may have stopped, but wasn’t about to be lulled into a false sense of security. Better to get things squared away and start on the next task at hand: what the hell was he supposed to do with a teenager?

Eddie oozed out of the backseat, hands clenched around the neck of an acoustic guitar like a lifeline. From the moment Wayne came to pick him up, the guitar had been tucked protectively against him by a makeshift strap. Even now, it bobbed unsteadily against his back when he stooped to grab a box.

They walked towards the trailer, Eddie trailing half a step behind. Balancing the box on his hip, Wayne undid the various locks and nudged the door open. They were immediately dumped into the living room, and greeted by the oppressive silence of a house half-lived in.

Wayne set the box down on the threadbare couch with a grunt, flicking on a nearby light. An orange glow illuminated the space, softening the edges of the room. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was tidy, old habits instilled in him from his military days. Once he’d gotten the news of his brother’s incarceration (from a message left on his answering machine, no less), it’d been a mad dash to find his nephew. Ideally he would have had more time to spruce up the place, but he was more focused on meeting with social workers than playing house.

“Your room is down the hall.” It was impossible to miss, seeing as it was the only room in the entire trailer, minus the bathroom.

As expected, Eddie wordlessly shuffled down the hall, guitar bouncing with each step. Wayne’s heart leapt to his throat every time the pegs scraped against the wall, threatening more permanent damage to both his home and the instrument.

Jesus, he was not prepared for a kid. When did people stop child proofing the house? He shook his head, leaving the boy to his lonesome to unpack his thoughts. Wayne could unpack the physical shit. There were still a few boxes and a garbage sack to unload--nothing his old bones couldn’t handle.

The caseworkers had warned him--‘Eddie will be a troubled young man, he might be a handful. Are you sure you want to take him on?’.

He couldn’t help but snort. Had he been ready to go to Vietnam? Hell no---but he did that shit anyways. Life wasn’t in the habit of handing out choices; you did what could, and took the lumps that came with it. Besides, Eddie’s welfare was his concern, and the kid had been dealt a shit enough hand.

Wayne was strong enough to carry him--he ain’t heavy.

It took no more than thirty minutes to carry in the wreckage of the kid’s life. He shuffled along the well worn path from the living room to the front door, mumbling a familiar song from his youth. There hadn’t been a peep from his nephew, which while not surprising, signaled he could do with a check-in.

The last box landed with a thud against the floor. “You still alive in there, Eddie?”

No response.

Wayne stretched, popping his back, before walking down the hall. Sure enough, the door to the bedroom was closed. He rapped his knuckles against it and tried again. “Eddie?”

The door swung open, bringing him face to face with the wild-eyed teen. Instinctually, he took a step back; never corner a frightened animal.

“Truck’s unloaded—your stuff is in the living room if you want help.”

Eddie took the opening to wriggle out of his room, snapping the door shut behind him. The guitar was still strapped to his back, and let out a painful discordant twang as it knocked against the door that caused them both to wince.

“You might want to find a spot for your girl in your room. Not sure how many more knocks she can handle.” He motioned to said instrument.

Eddie swallowed, nodding his head, but only tightened his grip on the handle more. She’d certainly seen better days: Multiple strings had been broken, curled around the chipped fretboards. Damaged, but not broken. With time, maybe they could fix her.

They stood there a moment, not making eye contact with one another. They may as well be strangers.

Finally, he let out a sigh, trying to breathe life into the awkward stalemate between them. “Listen, kid. You don’t know me and I don’t know you. But I ain’t your daddy.”

A hand flew up to the guitar strap, knuckles white. That got Eddie’s attention.

“People have told you a lot of bullshit, broken a lot of promises, and caused a lot of hurt. I ain’t dumb enough to think I won’t do the same somewhere down the line.”

The boy’s gaze was jittery, looking everywhere but his face.

“...But I’m going to do right by you, the best I know how.” Despite the wide berth he’d given the boy, he still flinched when Wayne motioned closer to the knob.

“There’s a lock on the door—“ he didn’t miss the way Eddie’s eyes jumped to his face with terror. A pit formed in his stomach, but he pushed through it. “—-you can lock the door from the inside. If you need to lock it to feel safe, you do that. Just don’t lock me out all the time, okay boy?”

Words had never been his strong suit, better at using his hands to do the talking for him, but he hoped it was enough.

He turned back towards the living room, bypassing the boxes and going straight to the kitchen. Boy could probably do with some food.

To his surprise, Eddie was in the living room, hovering over the boxes. Their eyes met over the cutaway in the kitchen, and for the first time, Eddie held his gaze. There was something different to him, eyes wide and searching, studying him.

He must have been satisfied by what he found, because his face split into a small tentative smile. “Want to help me unpack? It’s your only chance to be super nosy.”

God, he was going to absolutely ruin himself for this kid, wasn’t he?

Wayne returned the smile, “Okay, Eddie. Let’s do that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson character study #wayne munson #hurt/comfort #found family #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #chalky writes #wayne munson is a good uncle #this story is also up on a03 if that's more your scene #kid eddie munson #child eddie munson #He Aint Heavy #part 1

[someplace-that-is-else]

'Traces of You: Part the First'

‘So how’s the passion project?’

I liked Matt. I had liked him from the moment I had seen him at my local bar. I always used to get him mixed up with one of my old party friends. Same curly hair. Same Roman nose. Same quirky demeanor. It was years before I realized he was not my old party friend. Moreso because my party friend had a cool and FEMALE best friend versus his best friend who I could not stand.

Then Matt started to work at the local bar. So I was him more often. And we would talk books, tv shows, and movies. Of course I had mentioned that I was a self-published author. And while he had been fascinated at first, he appeared to be a different beast after the pandemic. At least…he was with me.

Outside of the anthology SHATTERED ILLUSIONS that I had done with my writer’s group, I had not published a book since DARKENED TABULA (Book 3 in the Darkened series) in 2020. That was a looong time for a writer to not have written anything. So perhaps it was Matt ribbing me with that fact.

But that did not make it hurt any less.

Passion project? Really? All the years we have sat at the bar counter and discussed my books, Pierce Brown, and the upcoming Dune, Matt thought that all I was doing was a passion project? Moreso since that was his greeting to me?

Moreso because…I WAS working on something.

But Are You Happy Then?

Well one cannot hate on Ryan Reynolds.

I remember when he was a boy named Billy on the Nickelodeon show Fifteen. But look at him now!! Married to the beautiful Blake Lively. Starred in the old Blade movie series. And of course, became the living embodiment of Deadpool in the X-men Universe.

Speaking of the Blade series, he once did an article in Best Life. And the main topic…happiness. He was just starting Blade: Trinity and thanks to the movie Van Wilder and his gift for comedy…he was slowly on the rise. So naturally a magazine asked his thoughts on happiness.

I remembered that article really resonating with me. So much so that I made a copy of the article (and a colored copy of the cover hehe). And I carried it with me. From Harlem to Little Rock to back to its ‘origin’ in San Diego. I still have the article…old pages and all!! That was how much it had touched me.

Sometimes when I was in between projects, I thought about that article. I took stock. How was I feeling? It was not too long ago (or was it?) that I had written a blog about expand, expand, expand in all ways. (Someplace That is... Else — New Dawn Rising: 3 Lessons to Take into 2021 from... (tumblr.com) ) But just thinking about it…was I?

The world had adjusted to the pandemic a while ago. Corona was still running around. However, it was still possible to have a life. And I could have gotten back in the swing of things myself. Not only did I have research to do for my forthcoming novel DARKENED SOUL: THE BREAKING OF CIRCLES, but I had most of a YA sci-fi novel written. And did I even have to mention Book 4 in my Darkened series. And yet…I had no focus.

Not true. I had focus. It was all on my jobs though. To that, I had to shake my head. I had worked hard to make room for my growing writing dreams and goals. Now I was back to That Guy. That Guy whom mind stayed on work, work, and more work rather than focus on his dreams or even living. That Guy who I thought I had grown out of during the pandemic. Guess not.

Perhaps that was why Matt made fun of me. Passion project? Hobby? Not when was my next book coming out. Just not treating what I hoped to be a growing career as just that…a career.

Was he right?

THE CASE FOR HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES…NEW BOOK, NEW DIRECTION…?

My friend Mr. Moore had always wanted me to write.

He always loved my novels. He also supported me as I worked hard to keep my focus on writing. And while he loved all my books, Mr. Moore always felt like I was just scratching the surface of what I could be writing.

He always felt that as a gay black author from the South, I had a unique perspective that I hardly ever used in my writing. It made me think of so many of my English teachers in school. They all felt that I had the talent. That I had the potential. However, they all gave me a look or a frown when I said I wanted to write horror. One even wrote on one of my short stories. He loved the writing, but felt the story was trite. WOW.

Besides E. Lynn Harris…another author of Arkansas…held the market in that particular arena. And I didn’t think anything else about it.

Then…Mr. Moore succumbed to cancer.

For him, it was January 2020. For me, it was March 2020. As the world dealt with the pandemic. As San Diego went into lockdown, I found out that my closest friend had passed. Not only that, the funeral had come and gone. I could only imagine how his boyfriend felt.

The world got back to normal. It went back. And I…found my mind going back to HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES. I had tried various times to work on it throughout the years. And I would get writer’s block in the exact same spot.

I missed my friend. I never truly got to mourn my friend. He never got to see how successful I could be as an author. I never got to show him how I could write something different. So it was that I started to work on HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES again. Anxiety slowly cropped up as I neared the same spot that I always got to where the writer’s block hit.

Perhaps it was the process of coping with my friend’s death that got the words to flow. Perhaps it was Matt’s voice in my head about my ‘Passion Project.’ Perhaps it was just feeling my emotions close to the surface. Whatever the reason, I arrived at the moment where main character Shaun told the truth. The moment that everything went into writer’s block mode.

And…I kept going past it.

I was shocked the next day when it happened. The way the words kept going as my pencil crafted them out on paper. After all this time, I was going to see what happened next.

Finally.

After writing nothing but supernatural cross-genre stories, I embraced writing something different…the quirky gay novel.

HELLO, I’M MIRROR.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised.

After all, it was not the first time my characters had done it to me.

As I mentioned, I had tried various times to write HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES. And when I’ve been working on it, I had thought about other storylines and subplots to bring into the story. There was one plot device that I had wanted to throw in in a few versions that I’ve written. It involved Shaun making a potential mistake with his close friend Trey. A simple plot twist to up the emotional stakes.

It felt like a great idea to use in this novel. And the steering toward that plot twist gave my novel a firm direction after the initial reveal of Shaun’s confession to potential love interest Eric. Meanwhile, his friend Trey had a subplot involving a closeted up-and-coming rapper. So it was a matter of growing their friendship and exploring it. And then having their lives fall apart at the same time. And then plot twist. Followed by aftermath as well as new building tension.

What I did not expect was how much the aftermath of said plot twist reflected a dilemma in my own personal life. Once my characters started to voice familiar words that I wrote, I found myself pausing. It felt like being slapped in the face, shock striking my body.

I had similar experiences with DARKCHILDE, the second book in my DARKENED series. I also had a lot of moments like this in my novel DARKENED SOUL: JONATHAN’S TALE. And now here I was with HOW THE OTHER HALF LIVES.

Mirroring.

Meh. I disliked when my characters’ lives seem to mirror or mimic what was going on in my own personal life. I did not intend for that to occur. And I definitely did not go searching for that to happen. And yet, there it was on the page in front of me.

I put my pencil down. That was not what I was expecting. I wanted my characters to act the way they were supposed to. And I also had my ending planned out.

But this curveball…was not expected. My characters mirroring my life.

And I…didn’t like what I saw.

TO BE CONTINUED…

#writing #ryan reynolds #elynnharris #best life #magazines #pandemic #passion project #mirror #traces #cancer #van wilder #blade trinity

[benjixromano]

hi angels its anna again with another muse and he’s very new so i’m gonna see how this goes with him but i hope you enjoy him! if you’d like to plot let me know and we’ll get that ball rolling

was that [ MATTHEW DADDARIO ] spotted down at the shoreline of east hamptons main beach? must just be, [ BENJAMIN ROMANO ] the [ THIRTY FOUR ] year old [ F1 DRIVER ]. whenever i hear [ DOPAMINE BY ELEPHANTE ] it reminds me of them. they are known for being [ STUBBORN ] but they make up for that by being [ GENTLE ]. they have been living in the hamptons for [ TWO DAYS ].

STATISTICS ;

Basic Information

Full Name: Benjamin Marco Romano 

Nickname(s): ben, benji

Age: 34 years old 

DOB: January 16th, 1988

Hometown: Manhattan, New York

Gender: cismale

Pronouns: he/him

Orientation: hetrosexual , heteroromantic

Occupation: F1 driver

Physical Appearance

Face Claim: Matthew Daddario 

Hair Color: Dark Brown/Black

Eye Color: Hazel

Height: 6’3”

Tattoos: 05.03.17 on his ribs. checkered flag (it was a bet he lost) on his bicep

Piercings: none

Personality

Positive Traits: dependable, curious, friendly, ambitious, outgoing, forgiving, reliable, gentle

Negative Traits: stubborn, hot headed

Fears: crashing, not being a good father, heights

Hobbies: running, hiking, watching sports, hockey 

Family

Father: Marcos Romano

Mother: Ophelia Romano

Daughter: Amelia Rose Romano (5 years old)

Cousin: Kalani Choi (adoptive)

ABOUT ;

on january 16th, 1988 Marcos and Ophelia Romano welcomed a healthy baby boy. he was a surprise at first since the doctors had gotten it wrong as they were prepared for a girl but when he had graced the world with his presence his parents were over the moon.

benjamin was quite the handful growing up. he was constantly getting into trouble starting as soon as he could walk and talk. his parents tried to find things for their toddler to get into but nothing seemed to keep his focus until one day his dad turned on a race and benji sat still watching with his dad.

he got into kart racing when he was younger always wanting to be the top racer of his age group and found himself dreaming of doing something with the sport whether it be working on the cars or being an actual racer he knew his goal was to some day race alongside his hero’s 

His mother never wanted him to actually get into racing to begin with because of all the hazards it could cost but he always promised he’d be okay but at 18 he became one of the youngest racers to enter the f1 grid. He worked his ass off for everything he’s gained 

When he was 29 and on winter break an ex hookup of his came knocking on his door and when he opened the door all she did was pass over the sleeping baby and said ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I can’t do this’ and left leaving both benji and Amelia behind without a second glance. His whole world turned upside down in that moment and he had no idea what to do but when he looked into the baby’s eyes he vowed to let nothing happen to her. 

He became the ultimate girl dad but he also didn’t want to give up on his career so he brought his family on the road with him, parents and all to make it work and he thinks he’s done an okay job so far. But now that Amelia is five years old he’s thinking about settling down and taking a break from his dreams to be the best he can be

Benji is pretty much a grumpy sunshine he can have that look of fuck off but he would easily ask you to please leave him alone. He’s also really protective of his family and closest friends. They could ask anything of him and he’d drop everything to take care of them (unless he had to be at a dance recital for Amelia she always comes first in his books)

He’s currently on winter break but he’s also trying to make the big decision of retiring after the next season. 

#hhq:intro

[drew-mga2022mi6021]

Conceptualisation | Black July

In my opinion, the concept with the most depth that I could glean since beginning was the idea of Black July. When analysing what I wanted to say, I found myself tunneling through a plethora of questions; why do we create? what does it take to create? who do we make art for? how can we make good art? what is "good" art? For this hypothetical film, the main connection point would be "The creator vs The Creation". Through this idea, I want to explore how art is viewed, what constitutes art, the sacrifices we must make for art, etc.

This is an interesting philosophical qualm; does art mean sacrifice? Or is sacrifice the banality of art? What would happen if one sacrificed so much for art? If the creation process itself is not enjoyed, is it really art or a product of misery?

Further, this film begs to be tied into the question of why we make art; who do we make it for? Art in it's most basic form is communication. Since the dawn of time, cave paintings have been used to communicate with other humans, to tell stories, to remain over the years as a testament to one's own existence. This notion of communicating ideas across time, across mediums has endured well into the modern age. In its most carnal form, art is a message to us, the viewer. By that logic, art is quite literally meant for others. But can art truly be enjoyed, if not made for oneself?

Harking back to this film, which will explore the life of a Sri Lankan musician filmed by his boyfriend in the 80s, there are a few potential routes that can be taken other than romance. The perspective of the cameraman greatly informs the genre of the film. What if he were to film when his boyfriend was uncomfortable, say at his mother's funeral? What if he eventually got tired of filming, and filmed for the sake of filming?

An alternate route could explore this film from the perspective of the cameraman as a Tamil boy during the '83 riots, hence romance amidst chaos. Furthermore, since this hypothetical film would take place in the 80s, the perspective of homophobia could be considered. This could pull from my own life, as a queer brown person in Sri Lanka, plus the experience of LGBTQ+ people who lived through that era.

The final avenue this film could touch on is the priorities of people during that time, and the priorities of artists in general; do we choose our creations, or the people around us? Can we choose both?

Additionally, I took my inspirations and extrapolated the elements that I particularly liked and wanted to explore in my film, such as the layered storytelling of "Awaken, My Love!", the blurred lines between reality and fiction in "Goodbye Eri" and the element of viewer interactivity from J.J Abrams' "S."

One issue I am running into is the lack of a complete story in my mind; is this something I want to animate? Or do I merely think it a cool idea? One such avenue I could explore is a non-linear narrative; a non-chronological timeline of events. However, I cannot dawdle on this too long lest I forego my precious hours to actually make something this module.

One frame from a sequence in my MI5018 final submission.

Something else I must acknowledge is the fact that two of the main facets of this story, I have treaded before; I animated a band in my MI5018 module and my worldbuilding project for MI4014 revolved around history's arguably most famous gay couple; Achilles and Patroclus. If I can, I would rather not tread the same footsteps as I have in the past. Through this film, I want something new to be born. This is not to say I will not feature queer characters or a band in my FMP, but as those two ideas have already been highlighted in previous projects, I would rather give focus to another topic. Within this film, it could be the Sinhala/Tamil Riots.

Although there is depth in many facets here, I feel that it may be too much to cover in one film. Going forward I will need to conduct more research and hone in on one facet of these topics I've mentioned above, or cut the idea entirely if it is incomplete without more than three layers of these ideas, as it would be too time consuming to execute on all of them in one film.

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Meeting the Seductive Butler

MysteryShadow

Summary:

A Journalist goes to the Phantomhive manor after the Circus incident. While at the Manor things gets heated between Ciels head butler Sebastian and the journalist Kristina.

(Spelling errors/ etc...)

Work Text:

It was late December and I had to meet a young noble boy, named Ciel Phantomhive. He is the Queens “guard dog.” I was a journalist for the daily paper in a old paper mill that' wasn’t really well known. I was told to meet Ciel Phantomhive over an incident that happened at Noah's Ark Circus six months ago. All of the workers at Noah's Circus are missing except one, ever since Ciel visited the circus. When I showed up I was greeted by a tall, skinny, handsome man with medium length black hair and mysterious dark brown eyes. I admit I wanted to test him to see how far my flirting would go. I have never met anyone this handsome and I never wanted to pull such a bold move before I met him. When I walked closer to him, he went on one knee and said, “Hello my lady, my name is Sebastian, sorry but I am afraid the young master isn’t going to be here until tomorrow because he had to speak to the Queen about the recent incidents. I said “its fine, its the Queen after all. When I walked with him into the manor, he said I was to be greeted by five other people, one woman and four men. When we walked up to them in the kitchen, they greeted me and told me their names, but then they had to get back to work. Sebastian showed me around the manner and I was even able to see his room. When he was showing me his room I thought I heard a cat or two, maybe I am just going crazy. I looked all around his cozy room then stopped once I looked at his bed, I thought how nice it would be for me to sleep in it with him. After I was done looking at his room I started to walk out when I heard him whisper in my ear, “you can come back over here later when everyone is asleep.” That sent a shiver down my neck and goosebumps arose from my skin. Sebastian walked past me but stopped and winked. My heart was racing thinking of all of the things we could do. Thinking of his hands touching all over me and his breath on my neck. I kept walking with him until we stopped at another room. He said “this is where you will be sleeping, if you need anything ring that bell or come to my room and I will help you out.” I said okay thank you, Sebastian. I started to avert my eyes away from his in embarrassment over what he said earlier. Just thinking of him pinning me down on his bed made me blush intensely.

Crimson Bloodline

StarlessWest

Summary:

Othello is a half-vampire just trying to live life as a normal human when a rise in attacks by feral vampires puts his safe lifestyle at stake (quite literally). When fate leads him to meet a strange man (who just so happens to be a legendary vampire hunter), an odd friendship and help from both sides may be just what they need. But things are never that simple, are they? Something strange is going on...

Notes:

After years of plot ideas for stories and AUs, this is the first time I’ve actually come up a proper plot for one. Since I’ve finally got a great story idea, I bring you a vampire AU! I’m super nervous about posting this aaa

THINGS TO KNOW:

- I have absolutely zero knowledge on how actual forensics works, so if anything is not accurate, I apologize ;v;

- Since the ship isn’t the main focus of the fic, I wrote it very subtly so anyone can enjoy the story without me forcing my OTP into your faces. You could basically just see it as a really close friendship if you wanted too. That being said, I miiiiight add the occasional shippy side-chapter ;)

- While Othello and Undertaker’s story is the main focus, there’s still plenty of other stuff happening too.

- I refuse to give away too much information on how vampires work in this specific world, that’ll be found out later~

- Undertaker will be “Adrian” in this story

That’s all. Enjoy~

Chapter 1: Midnight Delivery

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The clock read 1:00 in the morning as Othello finally replaced the vial back into its holder and sighed in relief. The smell of the blood was growing extremely tempting and he would be happy to leave before his hunger drove him to do something crazy. Working overtime was one thing, but being a half-vampire was another.

As a half-vampire it made it easier for him to blend in with society and live life as a normal human. He could be out during daylight and he could eat normal food as well, but blood would still tempt him and he hated it. He knew he still needed blood to survive, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. It reminded him too much of what he truly was. He’d rather starve to death when the time came.

“You’re still here?” A voice spoke.

Othello realized he’d been staring at the vials. His incisors felt sharper and he urged it away, feeling them return back to normal as he spun to smile awkwardly at the man who leaned against the open doorway to his lab.

“Oh! Uh- ‘Course I am! Just doing a little extra work.” He adjusted his glasses awkwardly, realizing a little too late that his gloves weren’t the cleanest.

The man moved so that he was leaning propped up against his broom instead and Othello realized it was the new janitor, who had likely just begun his shift.

“Well, I’m glad there’s still someone here.” The janitor grumbled. “Because they need one of the ol’ bodies moved to the funeral home and I sure as hell ain’t doin it.”

“Eh?” That was not at all was Othello expected. The janitor surely didn’t mean-

“Great, its that one they brought in a week ago. The one mauled by some dog or whatever.”

“Wait! You’re not-”

The door was closed and the man’s footsteps could be heard retreating quickly down the hallway. Othello felt his eye twitch. That guy was a new janitor, so not much was known about him. Clearly, he was not a very friendly fellow and he was certainly trying to find ways out of work.

Nearly an hour or two later, he had finally tidied up and made his way to the storage where they kept the bodies. Ah that’s right, the storage was full and they did in fact need to make more room as soon as possible. Fine, he would do it. A little part of him told him to leave it as it was and let the janitor get in trouble in the morning, yet he couldn’t. Othello just couldn’t be mean no matter how hard he tried, and it would likely be the death of him one day.

He pulled back the cover slightly to peer at the disfigured face of a young woman. It had been one if many cases confirmed to be animal attacks of some sort, however he knew those bite marks to be vampire. There were vampires out there roaming the city and mauling innocent people to pieces just for sport and it was utterly horrible. Luckily none of the humans had been properly “bitten”. He feared the day one of the investigations “turned” from a bite and attacked them. Then the world would know what creatures lived among them and it would quickly dissolve to chaos among humanity. The vampire attacks seemed to have grown more frequent in the recent months and Othello feared that there was more to it than a little hunting sport.

Othello replaced the cover in anger. There was a reason why he didn’t directly handle the bodies brought for autopsy. Luckily, the body was a few days old and whatever little blood remained that hadn’t been extracted smelled stale to him and in no way was it appetizing to even the most desperate vampire.

That asshole janitor had left the keys to the van in a perfectly convenient spot. After making sure everything was secured properly, also work for the janitor, Othello set off quickly while trying his best to follow the route that his phone gave him. He’d scrolled through all the places in the city and the only one open at this hour was… Down an old side street through crop fields and across from a church? It couldn’t possibly get any more horror-movie esque. But he himself was a creature fitting of the antagonist role in such a movie. It was a funny thought to know that any axe murderer would likely be more afraid of him, no matter how much of a cowardly excuse for a vampire Othello was.

The headlights of the car were the only light for miles when he pulled up in front of the old and run-down building. He considered for a moment that his GPS had directed him to a place that had been closed for years due to the state that the building was in. Still, he’d driven all this way. It was better to try at least.

He knocked on the door, only for it to swing inward automatically due to the force of his knock. So much for safety precautions and security. He glanced around quickly. Empty coffins lay across every inch of the shop. Everything was covered with a thick layer of dust and there were cobwebs everywhere. Yet, the scent of embalming fluids and candles hung thickly in the air. The place was certainly active and open, yet whoever had purchased ownership clearly hadn’t decided to fix it up.

“Erm, excuse me? Sorry to bother you so late at night, but I have a.. delivery.” Only silence greeted him. “Um, is anyone here?”

“Hehe, a delivery? What a surprise~ I don’t get too many of those.” A face peered at him from within one of the coffins. Othello stood unshaken, despite the fact that every part of his body was screaming at him to get the hell out of there and never come back.

“Y-Yes, sir. My name is O-Othello of London’s main forensics branch.” Okay, that’s creepy.

“Othello, hm? You may call me the Undertaker~” The man finally moved the coffin lid aside and stepped out to greet Othello. He was dressed in all black, with a gray sash tied across one shoulder and a chain of golden lockets around his waist. His hair was long and silver and the bangs hung over his eyes, obscuring most of his scarred face. When the man held his hand out in greeting, the long sleeve fell back Othello noticed his nails were long and painted black. Othello concluded on first impression that he was certainly a man worthy of the title of “Undertaker”.

Hesitantly, Othello stepped forward. The Undertaker shook his hand firmly with a wide grin before letting go and stepping aside. With no further words exchanged, he nodded towards the doorway, his expression one which almost resembled a kid watching their parent buy them candy.

Othello went outside to the back of the van and retrieved the body. As soon as he had wheeled it through the door, the Undertaker tore off the cover. Othello expected to see the same childlike expression, however, the man’s entire attitude suddenly changed upon seeing the actual body. He became serious and focused as he peered closer. The energy in the air seemed to have grown suddenly tense and Othello fidgeted uncomfortably. The Undertaker ran a long nail across the multiple puncture wounds on the neck and shoulders, and down across the scratches on the victim’s face. He removed the cover further, revealing the mutilated chest of the victim which had since been sewn up to prevent anything from falling apart due to the extent of the damage. The fact that most of the Undertaker’s face was obscured by the long grey hair left his expressions unreadable, but his focus was clear.

“It was.. concluded as a wild animal attack.” Othello stated in hopes to break the tension. The Undertaker’s head snapped up and Othello jumped backwards slightly. Even though the Undertaker’s eyes were covered, he could feel the intensity of the man’s gaze on him.

“Is that so?” His tone was deeper and unwavering. It was not so much an actual question as it was an accusation. “Did anyone see this ‘wild animal’?” It was as if he were implying he knew more. Othello’s hand moved to begin clicking at the pen hanging from his pocket out of nerves and he hoped it wasn’t obvious to the man how uncomfortable he had become.

“N-no. The body was discovered much later.” Othello went along with the details he’d been told. That part was not a lie, the murderous vampire had likely fled long before the gruesome scene was discovered.

The Undertaker clicked his tongue as if in thought and replaced the cover back over the body. His entire body language seemed to change in that moment and the tension in the air was seemingly released.

“Well, I will be sure to pretty her up~” The Undertaker had taken on the same friendly tone from earlier. “You know, I’m not quite a fan of formalities. You don’t have to be all business.” He added with a slight smile.

Othello stared for a moment, surprised at the sudden change in mood, before he jumped to attention. “Oh! I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“Hehe, you intrigue me~ You seem as if you always have more behind your words than what you imply.”

“I could say the same for you.”

The Undertaker clicked his tongue again, yet a genuine-looking smile followed and Othello was able to relax a bit, though not entirely yet.

The man’s strange reaction to the condition of the body still seemed suspicious. He could be aware of vampires’ existence, so there was still reason to be weary. Or perhaps the Undertaker was a vampire himself. Though that seemed unlikely, what vampire lives near a church? It was common knowledge that vampires burn up after contact with anything of holy form. They were classified as demons, after all. Othello wouldn't dare go near such things either for fear that being half-vampire may still allow holy items to have an effect on him, thought it would likely not kill him like it would a normal vampire.

Othello realized he’d become lost in silent thought again and snapped himself out of it. The Undertaker had moved to lean casually against a coffin and was smiling at him with an amused expression.

Dammit, what a smug asshole. Why didn’t he say anything? Othello’s mind grumbled. Does he find me amusing and intriguing?

“Indeed I do now.” The Undertaker chuckled and Othello felt his ears burn in embarrassment when he realized he’d been mumbling those last thoughts out loud.

“I-“

The soft and barley noticeable dawn light beginning to filter through the holes in the curtained windows of the room halted Othello’s reply.

“Early morning hours now, hm?”

The yawn from Othello that followed that statement seemed to convey a point to the Undertaker, who crossed to the other side of the room quickly and began rummaging among the shelves. He pulled out a jar that looked quite like an urn and retrieved a large bone-shaped cookie from it.

“I must say, I do enjoy your presence very much. Visit again sometime, won’t you? I want to see if you are as good with words as you are with your thoughts. Here’s a parting gift, if you may.”

He waved the cookie in Othello’s face and the latter gladly took it. Under normal circumstances, Othello would’ve been weary accepting food from random people, especially an old dog biscuit-looking cookie from out of an urn. However, he could use the sugar to keep him awake for long enough to drop off the van and get home.

He took a bite. Gingerbread? It was actually very delicious. He smiled fully for the first time since arriving there.

“Did you make these?” His eyes took on their usual bright and mischievous glint. “I guess I will have to come back.”

The Undertaker laughed again, popping one of the cookies into his own mouth as he gave a little wave of dismissal.

Othello crossed to the door before pausing in the doorway to turn and give the other man a light smile. “Until next time, my mysterious friend.”

The door then shut with a click, forcing a cold morning draft into the air of the shop.

Adrian watched as the young man’s van sped away down the dirt road and back towards the city. He replaced the cookie jar back on its shelf as he finally let go of his masked emotions and let his face take on an expression of surprise and interest. Brushing his hair out of his eyes, he smirked.

So Othello isn’t a vampire.

No vampire can eat normal human food without becoming terribly sick and weakened. Adrian’s rings were also made from silver, and a handshake with a vampire would have burned them to ashes. Of course, Othello’s features were not vampire-like at all, yet one could never be so sure with the methods those creatures used these days.

Oh he would most certainly love to have such an amusing fellow back in his shop, especially after his little test results.

“I’ll be expecting to see you again, Othello~”

Notes:

Undertaker is no idiot, he just hasn’t seen a half-vampire before~

And again, I have no clue how forensics works. Please feel free to correct me. Also feel free to correct me on any typos or mistakes too.

I don’t want to promise an update schedule because I suck at deadlines, so I will update whenever ready (usually at least once a month). I can guarantee that I will be finishing this, though!

And please let me know what you think of the story! ^ ^

See you next chapter~

Chapter 2: A Strange Little Group

Notes:

Aaa

As promised, another chapter!

This is mostly an introduction to the vampire hunters. I hope I did a good enough job explaining their “situation”.

Also! Quickie thing I forgot to mention last chapter: Undertaker is in no way related to the Phantomhives in this verse. Everyone who isn’t a vampire is perfectly human and this is set in modern times, so stuff like that wouldn’t work ;v;

Anyways, enjoy~!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

When Adrian left for work that following morning, that curious little forensic scientist was still on his mind. Such an odd fellow was certainly a source of entertainment he would want to always have near him. Especially since the majority of his co-workers were boring and negative. Always too focused on their job, the lot of them.

Now, when Adrian would say “left for work”, he truly meant just walking across the road from his convenient little funeral shop to the tiny church that rested on the low-laying hill just in front of it.

Indeed, that tiny church was the Vampire Hunters of London’s headquarters.

Of course, it wasn’t a permanent location. The Vampire Hunters of London had resided in a huge old church just outside the city for decades, however, they had been discovered and invaded merley months ago and were forced to move. The church was Adrian’s idea, as it had been sitting there abandoned when he’d first occupied the also abandoned funeral home and begun work.

He knocked eight times and the large wooden door creaked open slightly. The face of Ran-Mao greeted him, her sharp eyes looking him over. She nodded, opening the door wider to let him in.

The stale musty air smelt slightly of some form of drug. A scent which always seemed to be signature to a specific person.

“Always the first one in here, aren’t you?” Lau sat at a pew in the far right corner near the front, legs propped up in front of him as a thin trail of smoke swirled up from whatever horrid cigar he was holding. The smoke wafted upward, disappearing into the beams of morning light that streamed through the windows and creating a haze near the roof.

“I live across the street, of course I am.” Adrian answered him. He wouldn't dare ask how the drug-smoking man and his accomplice always seem to find their way there ahead of him without any evidence of travel. The pair were odd and mysterious and Adrian knew well when when such things were not the type to be questioned.

“The windows don’t open, you know.” He grumbled. That damn smell will soak into the walls.

His only response was a shrug from Lau as the man blew another puff of smoke.

At least he doesn’t have the hookah with him. Adrian sighed as he made his way over to the front of the church. Where a podium would have been lay a tattered rug with all sorts of weapons and ammo which Ran-Mao had apparently recently set out in the few moments it took him to talk with Lau. How curious, he hadn’t even felt her presence pass him on her way from one end of the church to the other.

He knelt down beside her as she picked up a double-edged dagger and a piece of sandpaper and began to sharpen and clean it. His eyes traveled over the pile. Hm? Where was it?

“Your scythe is over there.” Ran-Mao commented, nodding towards the wall to the right of them.

Indeed, there it was in all its glory. His huge, scythe-like weapon, sharpened edges gleaming brightly in the morning light. It was decorated with the upper half of a skeleton wearing a crown of thorns that clung to a long and slightly curved handle. It was customized to his idea of absolute perfection. With a wild grin, he crossed over to it and began to run the tips of his nails across the blade.

“Ugh. Would you stop caressing that thing?” An irritated voice echoed through the church.

Adrian paused, turning slowly to see Ciel Phantomhive as the boy scowled at him from the partially open doorway. His grin dropped to a frown.

“You didn’t knock.” He blinked.

“Do I really need to?” The boy stared blankly.

“It’s for security, yes it is!” Came the awkward voice of Mey-Rin as she appeared behind him in the doorway, followed by Finnian and then Bardroy. The latter was holding a large rucksack over his shoulder and Adrian sincerely hoped the bag wasn’t full of the man’s favorite ammo, explosives.

The group entered, finding seats in random places throughout the pews.

“This is a church. Do you think those demons can enter of their own free will?” Ciel was still loudly grumbling across the room at Adrian.

“Yours can.” The man commented back as the door finally closed and a final person set foot inside. The man in question was dressed in all black, equally dark locks of hair falling into his face. His eyes were a bright reddish-pink hue with cat-like pupils that narrowed to adjust to the lighting. He smiled, revealing sharp fangs, and bowed in greeting. A necklace of rosary complete with a cross charm swung from around his neck.

“Sebastian has special permission and you know that.” Ciel said. “He was hired by my father to protect me, remember?”

“Indeed.” Sebastian nodded. He held eye contact with Adrian, those vibrant eyes shimmered dangerously. “And all of you here know that if I were to harm the young master in any way, you have full permission to kill me as I stand.”

“And I should just kill you as you stand right now!” A loud feminine voice screeched. The door swung open, nearly smacking Sebastian across the back where he stood. Francis Midford stood in the wide-open doorway, the blade of a long sword held steady against the vampire’s shoulder blades. Sebastian blinked in surprise, clearly not daring to turn around. The formality and mysterious air he had kept was quickly lost.

“You bloody bastard.” The woman hissed. “I arrived here close behind you and Ciel. How dare you call yourself a proper man when you don’t even hold the door open for a lady!”

The look of genuine terror on the vampire’s face was enough to send Adrian rolling on the floor laughing. This wondrously serious bunch of ragtag hunters never failed to make him laugh.

“Oh, stop laughing you old creep.” Ciel rolled his eyes.

“And you, Ciel. Watch how you address your superiors!” Francis had quickly switched from ‘pissed off lady’ to ‘annoyed aunt’ in seconds.

Oh, indeed, Adrian recalled as he attempted to calm his fit of giggles. Francis Midford was Ciel Phantomhive’s aunt.

The boy’s father, Vincent Phantomhive had been one of the more brighter and joking personalities in the workplace, much like Adrian. Vincent had likely even been the only person Adrian could consider a true friend. However, the Phantomhives were well known vampire hunters and their legacy was not well hidden. Approximately 4 years ago, someone, likely vampire, tracked down the Phantomhives and killed the entire family. Apparently all but the older son, Ciel, who made it out alive with the help of a vampire betraying its own kind. The boy claimed his father had told the vampire to do so, but Adrian knew that was a lie. Vincent had hated vampires with a passion, he would never do such a thing. In fact, Ciel Phantomhive was surrounded by many obvious lies. Adrian had spoken briefly with Francis about this matter before and she had confirmed to have suspicions as well. Though her dislike of Sebastian likely just came from her overall dislike of vampires… and Sebastian’s hairstyle apparently.

The hunters had been a much bigger group too, a whole society. But after the attack on their main base months ago, many had been killed or fled out of fear. The only ones who remained were those whose entire life revolved around the job of a vampire hunter, the few who found it impossible to abandon such a lifestyle.

Or, of course, those who have a purpose to seek. He thought, with a glance at the Phantomhive boy.

The boy claimed to be taking on the job to seek revenge for his family, and most of all, his little brother. Adrian scoffed. As Adrian’s thoughts returned to the present, he became aware of a distinct chatter among the others that echoed throughout the room. Ran-Mao and Mey-Rin sorted the weapons Bardroy had just added to the pile from his bag. Sebastian looked to be caught in awkward conversation with Lau, who seemed to be paying more attention to Ciel and Francis - who were bickering loudly, - than the vampire in front of him.

Adrian smiled softly. They may not be very normal people, but they certainly all knew how to do their job properly. He almost let his mind drift again before there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Ran-Mao who nodded in the direction of Lau. The man had finally put down his cigar and was standing upright on the pew.

“... and as I discovered recently,” He was saying, “There has been a shocking increase in murders committed by vampires!”

“We’ve known that for months.” Francis grumbled into a facepalm.

“..But! There’s a catch~” Lau continued. “All of these murders have been committed by the same two vampires.” His eyes flashed menacingly for a second and he gave a sly smirk.

“And what proof do you have of that?” Ciel raised an eyebrow. “We don’t know anyone who could help verify such a thing.”

“I trust my instincts, of course.” Lau said blankly.

The occupants of the room collectively groaned.

“..Er… Who’s ready to do some hunting!” Bardroy yelled, successfully lightening the mood as everyone would always leap at such an opportunity. Weapons were gathered as the group began to set up. Adrian remained against the wall, leaning next to his scythe.

“If only there was someone who could prove such a thing… hehehe.” Adrian muttered lowly to himself, his grin growing wider by the second. “Someone in forensics, perhaps~?” He whispered as his eyes glimmered from beneath long grey bangs of hair.

Someone who seems like the type to take the news of vampires’ existence with excitement and curiosity more than fear.

Oh how perfect. How perfect indeed.

He had someone he needed to find.

The groups parted ways in their usual pairings. Ciel and Sebastian were dropped off in front of the London Eye, just across the river from the palace. Sebastian stood in a casual button-down jacket that covered his formal outfit, his vampire eyes covered by the colored eye contacts he wore.

Ciel stared up at the Ferris wheel-like structure with a confused expression.

“This is such a touristy spot, are we sure this is the right place, or do they just want to get rid of us faster? ... Sebastian..? Are you listening?”

The vampire was staring in a certain direction, eyes narrowed.

Just then, a horrible scream echoed through the area.

Notes:

..I love torturing Sebastian.

And in case anyone is wondering (probably not, I just feel like overclarifying everything haha) whenever I write a scene that’s in a specific place in the city, I always choose the area near London Eye or by the palace since that’s the only place in London I remember clearly enough to envision while I write.

Again, feel free to point out any typos or mistakes!

Oop. If anything looks wierd, idk how Ao3 works yet. I’m still getting used to it. Sorrry sorry.

See you next chapter~!

Chapter 3: A Curious Case

Notes:

Was having a ton of complications with inaccurate info and storytelling order when writing this chapter, so I apologize if it sounds a little weird and rushed.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

#black butler fanfiction

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑷𝒕.2 (𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑲𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒆𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

Part One

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐄𝐦𝐨/𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞) × 𝐒𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐢! 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖.𝟓+𝐊

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞/𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞/𝐝*𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 × 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧), 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐃𝐨𝐦! 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦!/𝐒𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐮𝐛! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @seacottons @little-precious-baby @speronyx @pirate-hongjoong @multidreams-and-desires @cloudyyeonnie

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Scrunching her eyes from the sliver of light protruding from the curtain that was left slightly open, Y/N let out a tired groan before pulling some of the navy blue blanket over her face. Feeling his lover shift in her sleep, Hongjoong slung his inked arm and placed it around her waist. Bringing his face forward, he placed a chaste kiss on her exposed shoulder.

"Morning beautiful." He greeted her with his usual manner of complimenting her.

"No........no morning..." She uttered, her voice sounding a little raspy and hoarse.

The dark ash grey male chuckled softly at her unwillingness to get up yet even though it was well past 11 a.m. His fingers traced around the dip of her hip as he hummed out a soft tune.

"Sweetheart, as much as I'd love to stay in bed and hold you for the rest of my life, you have class today and I'm needed at the shop later on." He reminded her.

Although she realized he was right, she still refused to budge and just stayed immobile. Letting out a sigh, he sat up and began to carefully turn her over to him, to which she let out a muffled whine. When she was fully turned on her back, her eyes fluttered open, her vision being blessed by the beauty of her dark and eccentric boyfriend who was donning his signature smirk as his eyes peered down at her, always seeming to stare right into her soul.

"Well? Are you ready to get up or am I going to have to get you ready myself?" He inquired, one eyebrow slightly lifted.

The warmth and comfort of the bed made her hesitant to want to leave. Reaching out, Y/N's hand slowly began tracing the outline of Hongjoong's collarbone.

"Why can't we just stay here?.....just for today? Stay and cuddle together..."

Trailing her hand down, her fingers grazed slightly over one of the piercings on his chest.

"Or .....we could do a few other things."

He let out a soft moan when she rolled his nipple between her thumb and index finger, eyes looking up at him suggestively while she bit down on her lower lip. Her other hand pushed the blanket, which was covering her, a little lower to further entice him. He could not look away at the sight of her wearing one of his many oversized band tees, his mind knowing fully well she wasn't wearing anything else underneath it. The end of it had risen up slightly that if she shifted around more, her entire bottom half would be exposed to him. When her hand threatened to go lower, he quickly caught it with his own.

"Naughty naughty kitten, trying to seduce me into fucking her into the sheets.."

Bending over, he captured her lips in a lazy and semi-messy kiss, his wet muscle poking out to lick across her upper lip.

"As if I didn't do enough of that last night."

Letting out a giggle, she let him wrap her legs around his waist before picking her up and walking towards the adjoining bathroom so they could get washed up and ready for the upcoming events in their day.

Outside in the kitchen, a handsome boy with dark brown hair and a sculpture like face pushed up the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. His eyes loomed over the formulas and equations that were plastered all over the page. More than once he looked over at the notebook beside him, comparing and analyzing similarities and differences. His pencil was often tapping against the counter, following along to the beat of the song that was blasting from his phone. Occasionally, he'd find himself humming, or even singing along softly like he was currently doing at the moment.

"Fell in love with a girl at the rock show. She said what? And I told her that I didn't know..."

He had been sitting on that spot well over 3 hours, the blueberry bagel he had heated up for breakfast only had a single bite and remained untouched on a porcelain plate in front of his study materials. He let out a whispered curse under his breath as he couldn't seem to focus, his hand reaching up to rub at the side of his neck in frustration. Letting out a puff of air, he leaned back on the chair and stared at the ceiling, thinking about many things.

Hearing the doorknob of his roommate's turn, he was not fazed at all at seeing the [insert hair color] female come out.

"Oh. Morning Yeosang." She waved at him as she made her way into the kitchen, already rummaging through the cabinets like she usually did when she stayed over.

"Morning? It's practically noon." He pointed to the clock hanging by the wall.

Y/N simply ignored him and simply poured herself a bowl of cereal. Sitting down in front of the poker faced male, she made sure not to disturb him as he concentrated on the papers in front of him. After Hongjoong and her became official, she was ultimately forced to be introduced and sometimes even cohabite to a point with him since she now spent more time at their dorm than at her own place. Not that she minded. Yeosang was a very intriguing character. He was extremely quiet at first, but soon opened up to her and became more chatty with her, even more with her than his own roommate and friend. During one of their many conversations she found out he was a natural science major, focusing specifically on chemistry, which resulted more often than not in horrible puns involving the periodic table. He had a weird yet cute obsession with chicken, often wore either beanies or snapbacks backwards and had very similar music tastes like Hongjoong, which was the main reason why they ended up becoming friends, their music. However, Yeosang wasn't as deep, dark nor tattooed like her boyfriend.

Yeosang was a skater and the biggest clue was the skateboard he left on the side of the front door, the bottom of it decked out with various stickers he placed there. God forbid if anyone that wasn't him touched his baby, all hell would break loose, as Hongjoong himself learned one time. The man himself came out of his own room after he finished placing the finishing touches on his makeup. Sliding an arm around his girlfriend, he took in the state of his friend.

"Still taking 6 hours on a chemical reaction Yeosang?" Hongjoong snorted.

"Still taking longer than your girlfriend to put on eyeliner Hongjoong?" Yeosang retaliated, lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Another thing she loved about Yeosang: he was a straight up savage who could roast people harder than an oven.

Grumbling softly, Hongjoong placed a tiny peck on Y/N's lips.

"I have to go now babygirl. Meet me at the shop after class and we'll go home together." He told her.

"Which one? Hers or ours?" Yeosang snickered.

Making his way around the counter, Hongjoong held out his hand and flicked Yeosang on the head, causing him to utter an 'ow' at his ministration.

"And please try to get some air Yeo. You've been cooped up in these 4 walls too long."

After giving him a suggestion, Hongjoong was out the door and out of sight towards his part time job.

"Dark lord has no room to talk, before you came along, he'd only go out for school, work and booze." Yeosang shook his head.

Y/N giggled and got up to make her way out as well.

"He has a point. Besides, you've been stressed out recently. Why not hop on Emmy and take her out for a little spin?"

Y/N found it odd at first that Yeosang actually named his skateboard, but she figured she shouldn't have been so surprised. Hongjoong did a similar thing with his black Mustang. Closing, his textbook, Yeosang turned off the music playing on his phone and grabbed the earbuds sitting next to them.

"You know what? You're right. It doesn't look like it'll rain either."

Picking up her own bag, she followed Yeosang out the door, each of them headed towards a different direction.

"Try not to run anyone over this time." She called out to him.

"I don't run into people, they purposefully get in my way."

After waving goodbye to her, he placed the earbuds in, music already blasting full volume as he skated down the hallway, not caring about if it was allowed or not.

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The little twinkle of the bell chimed, letting Hongjoong know that someone had just come in. Although it was well past closing time, he knew very well who it was that just strolled through those doors. He didn't even look up from his task of wiping down and sanitizing his workplace.

"Hey handsome."

Unwillingly, he smiled softly at his girlfriend's words.

"Hey gorgeous." Finally looking up, he winked at her and caused her cheeks to heat up with a light shade of pink.

Clearing her throat, she asked if he was almost done, to which he affirmed that he was indeed.

"Just let me pack up my things and then we'll go to your place and cuddle." He began putting the tattoo needles, ink and tubes into a black case, making sure it was all neatly arranged and locked tightly.

"My place? But I bought chicken. I thought we could give some to Yeosang." She held up the plastic bag that contained their purchased dinner.

Slumping an arm around her waist, Hongjoong poked his bottom lip out.

"Sometimes I think you're more nice to Yeosang than me."

She shook her head at him and his cute and subtle jealous antics.

"Kim Hongjoong, are you jealous of Yeosang?" She teased him.

Pulling her against him, he whined softly as they made their way out of the tattoo parlor. He sighed as he locked up and punched in the security code.

"I'm not jealous of him....."

Walking over to his car, he made sure to open the door first for her as he usually did every time they went out.

"I'm just making sure you're still interested in me."

He held her hand the entire ride back to her place, even against her protests and lecture about safe driving. When she pulled her hand away so he could place it on the steering wheel, it instead rested on top of her thigh, pinching it softly at times, which resulted in Y/N's own hand smacking it for going too hard at times. Hongjoong just laughed and continued his obnoxious teasing on her, loving to annoy her and get her frustrated with him. When they pulled up to her place, she didn't even allow him to open the door for her. Instead, she sauntered off inside, closing the door behind her and locking it before he could get in.

"Haha very funny babe, now please open the door."

A minute passed but still she didn't respond. Hongjoong began pressing on the doorbell repeatedly. When that still didn't work, he called her, but he was sent directly to her voice mail.

"Aish! Seriously this girl..."

Hongjoong began pounding on the door.

"Yah L/N Y/N! Open this door right now missy! You want me to get angry with you?!"

On the other side of the door, Y/N cupped a hand over her mouth, muffling her laughter at his reaction.

"If you don't open the door, I'll- I'll..........I'll serenade you so loudly your neighbors will complain."

Taking a deep breath, he was about to start singing, but Y/N instead opened the door.

"Dear God, I get punishing me, but what did my neighbors do to get tortured so mercilessly by your banshee cries?"

She finally let him in after that scene.

"I'll have you know I'm actually a pretty decent singer." He stated in a matter of factly.

"Oh I know Hongjoong." She assured him as she began serving him a plate of food.

"You do?" He was puzzled as he tried to recall a time where he sang in front of her.

Not able to suppress a smile, Y/N confessed:

"One night after you came home late and thought I was asleep, I heard you when you began singing Rebel Love Song while playing with my hair."

As she sat down the plate in front of him and looked at him, his already fair complexion seemed to grow more pale and he suddenly looked embarrassed. He awkwardly toyed with his food.

"So......you heard the entire thing...?" He opted for focusing on eating as much as he could before he completely lost his appetite.

Y/N tried to keep a straight face as she sipped on the juice from her cup, ultimately failing when she spat it back inside, almost choking on the citrus liquid. Her boyfriend now threw the unwanted chicken wing back in his plate.

"Well I guess I'm not eating tonight. Good bye. I'm going to go crawl under the bed and die of embarrassment."

She looked at Hongjoong's slumped back as he headed into her bedroom. Wanting to let him change and wash up, knowing he'd take a while removing all that makeup that for some reason never caused a breakout on his flawless skin, she began clearing out the table and washing the dishes. Making sure to wrap the leftovers so he could take to his friend, she made her way into her room where Hongjoong was already on the bed, scrolling through his phone with a cringed look on his face.

"What is it?" She asked him as she began changing into her pj's.

"My idiot roommate. Wasn't watching where he was going and ended up stumbling on a dent on the sidewalk."

Hongjoong held up his phone to let her see a picture of Yeosang's dislocated elbow. She winced back in pain as she saw it.

"Ewww! Is he ok? Does he want us to take him to the hospital?"

Hongjoong shook his head.

"Yeosang would never EVER go to the hospital because of a skating accident. Besides, he's had so many that he somehow knows how to fix them."

Pulling up another picture, he let her see a selca of Yeosang holding up a peace sign as the caption read: "Hehet. I popped it back into place."

Y/N actually thought that was funny. Yeosang was a very funny character even when he didn't try to be. Snuggling herself up to her boyfriend, she let him move her leg so it could be wrapped around him, his thumb playing with the hem of her pink shorts. His hand then trailed up, untying the drawstring before pulling them just a little bit down to expose her powerpuff girls underwear.

"Hey!" Y/N swatted his hand away when he began bursting out at her choice of 'lingerie.'

"I'm sorry! It's just so cute." He tried explaining to her.

She wasn't amused however and turned away from him, her back facing him.

"Awww come on baby. I meant it when I said it was cute. You know I didn't mean it to be mean."

Hongjoong wrapped his arm around her waist, his lips peppering kisses on her cheek and temple.

"Yeah but I bet you'd prefer it if instead it was black lace and the skin around it had ink or jewelry."

Although she meant to only mumble that under her breath, Hongjoong heard her plain and clear.

"Ok what kind of talk is that? Why are you saying such things Y/N?"

She was going to crawl under the blanket but Hongjoong gave her no time to as he rolled her onto her back so he could look at her, not about to let her go until she explained the meaning of her words.

"I mean.......Hongjoong you're the dark, mysterious emo guy every girl thirst for at campus." She began.

"Guilty as charged." He joked.

Y/N chuckled slightly at his cute joke, but then went back to her somber expression.

"But...?" He urged her to continue.

"And I'm the complete opposite of you. You're black, I'm pink. You're leather, I'm fleece......you got your fucking dick pierced while I the only thing I have pierced are my ears."

"Ok, I see your points, but I'm still lost as to where you're trying to get with all this?" He tilted his head.

"My point is this. Wouldn't you rather be with someone who matches you better? Colorful colors on her hair? Piercings cascading down her earlobes and tattoos in places only you'll be able to see?" Her eyes looked away from him, afraid to see something she wouldn't like.

Hongjoong finally understood her insecurity. He wasn't going to lie, more than once he often felt the same way towards her. Why would a beautiful, dedicated, classy, pure and sophisticated woman settle for someone like him? But he never imagined that she'd be thinking the exact same thing. His fingers brushed away the strands of hair that were covering part of her face.

"Y/N....... if I wanted someone like that, I could have hooked up with them a long time ago. But I didn't want them. I wanted you then and I only want you now and I'll still want you later on in life."

She melted at his reassuring words, eyes and lips forming into a puppy face that always made him weak.

"You mean it?"

Bending down, he placed a loving and gentle kiss on her.

"I mean it. So don't worry about getting your body pierced or tattooed." He grinned at her.

Y/N bit down on her lip as she was about to tell him something.

"Well actually........I might need your input on something..."

He motioned for her to speak up.

"I actually wanted to get a tattoo and I was wondering......if you could do it..."

His mouth dropped at her words, brain trying to process if he just heard her right.

"Are you serious or...?"

She nodded.

"I'm serious. I want to get a tattoo and I want you to do it."

Looking at his still dumbfounded expression, it was now her turn to make fun of him.

"I mean, if you don't want to, that's ok. I'll just ask San to do it. It could probably be a better idea and I could surprise you instead."

"I mean, where do you even want to get the tattoo?"

Y/N smirked as she lifted her shirt up and exposed her breasts. She trailed a line right below them and signaled exactly where she wanted to get it. Hongjoong's face flushed as he began to imagine his already sexy girlfriend with an under breast tattoo decorating her chest, causing him to feel needy in seconds.

"Fuck baby.....are you trying to kill me?" He gulped.

"So is that a yes? Can you ask San to do it and I'll show you the finished result?"

Hongjoong chuckled as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

"Do you really think I'm going to let anyone else see my girlfriend's chest when only I'm allowed to? Hell no. I'll gauge their eyes out first."

Y/N let out a half squeak half moan when Hongjoong bit down on her neck, tongue gliding down her exposed skin as his hands began ridding her of her clothes one by one.

"Let me remind you that you're mine and will always be mine."

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"Hongjoong!"

Throwing a rubber ball that struck straight into his target's head, Yeosang held up a fist in the air.

"Still got my aim." He declared, flexing his arm muscle.

Hongjoong however was not amused.

"You know...there's more than one way to dislocate an elbow than tripping on a sidewalk." He threatened him.

Letting out a small 'pfft', Yeosang took out his phone.

"Do you still have that video presentation we did for Professor Yoo's class."

"Ummm.......hold on, yeah I think so?" Hongjoong began scrolling through his phone.

"Ok well if you do, send it to me, I need to go over a few things for our upcoming midterms."

Hongjoong gave him a questioning gaze.

"Yeosang...midterms aren't until 3 months from now."

Yeosang raised an eyebrow.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Not wanting to argue with the hot headed boy, Hongjoong just went back to searching through his files and let him know he'd send it once he found it. Yeosang meanwhile went back to his room, flopping down on his bed and resumed his previous activity of watching a horror movie on his phone. Tiny snorts would occasionally come out of his mouth when a jump scare would happen or sometimes even a twisted smile would form on his face when a particularly brutal or gory scene would be displayed. Even if he was scary and dark himself, Hongjoong often judged and questioned how Yeosang could possibly sit there watching people get violently slaughtered or severed without getting fazed or even batting an eyelash. Hongjoong actually suspected Yeosang actually enjoyed it and more than once contemplated whether Yeosang or not could be a potential serial killer.......

Then he remembered the boy also had Ponytail as his ringtone to quote unquote 'Wake up in a happy and cheerful mood.'

A notification popped up. Opening his messages, he saw it was from Hongjoong himself.

'Took me a while, but here you go. Knock yourself out I guess.'

In typical Yeosang fashion, he didn't even thanked him, he simply left him on read as he usually did. Pressing play, he flipped his phone sideways so he could make it go into full screen mode. He was disoriented when he heard music playing on the black screen, knowing fully well he didn't use such kinky music like that while editing the video, in fact he didn't use any music at all.

"What the fuck?"

He squinted his eyes when a scantily clad girl came into view. A male hand, belonging to whom he presumed to be recording the video, was seen running his thumb across her luscious and red tinted lips. The hand then reached down and picked up a black leash which was attached to the black choker on her neck. It had a red heart pendant on the middle, some engraving that he couldn't make it on the center of it.

"You know what to do kitten. Put that pretty mouth of yours to work." He heard the male tell the girl in front of him.

"The fuck kind of kinky porn did he decide to send me?"

Yeosang's cringed expression soon turned to shock when the male tugged on the leash roughly, pulling the girl forward and making her full face finally show on the camera.

"Oh...my..."

He gulped as he watched none other than Y/N began to pull down, whom he assumed was Hongjoong's briefs, down his thighs. When his erect cock hit his stomach, Yeosang's eyes nearly bulged out of his eyes.

"Holy shit Joong!"

His hand covered his agaped mouth as his eyes stared intently at his roommate's most intimate part, covered in piercings that he definitely did not know about. He knew about the nipple piercings, both of them having walked around shirtless at one point in front of each other. But seeing his Hyung's dick full of jewelry started making him get hard and watching Y/N wrap her lips around it, slurping sounds coming out her mouth as she began taking him in until he hit the back of her throat was not helping his case. His hand that was resting on his thigh unconsciously moved towards the growing tent forming under his sweatpants, lightly running across his length.

He heard Hongjoong emit a low hiss when she gave him a particular hard suck.

"Fuck! You're such a hungry and desperate cockslut aren't you? How about I treat you like the whore you are and fuck your face?"

Yeosang sucked in a breath as he watched Hongjoong yanked the leash on Y/N to keep her in place as his hips began to thrust forward. Yeosang couldn't help but palm himself harder, biting down his lower lip in an effort to keep his moans down. Watching Y/N release choked moans and drool pool down her chin from how hard Hongjoong was face fucking her was honestly one of the hottest things he'd ever seen. He nearly came in his pants with the lightest of touch when he witnessed Hongjoong pull out and spurt out his cum all over her face, covering from her forehead and dripping down her cheeks and chin, her tongue darting out to swallow some of the remnants left on her lips.

Yeosang gulped as he watched the screen go black, only shuffling noises being heard for a minute or two. He debated whether he should continue watching, already feeling guilty as hell that he just watched his Hyung's girlfriend suck him off and get a facial from him. But once the screen lit up again, he nearly fell off his bed as he stared at the scene:

Y/N had her arms tied to the bedpost, crimson red ropes secured tightly on her wrists, an intricate knot placed in the center of it. Her mouth was covered by a ball gag, lace bra pulled down to expose her breasts and her panties were probably discarded somewhere on the floor. He watched Y/N anxiously shiver when Hongjoong slid his cock across her slippery folds, no doubt enjoying the feeling of his Jacob's ladder piercing grazing against her lips and aching clit. He noticed how she tried to roll her hips to feel him more, but Hongjoong's hand slammed down on her stomach and pressed her down onto the bed.

"Don't get greedy now kitten. You'll take what I give you and you'll be grateful got it?"

Hearing his dominant and commanding voice full of authority, Yeosang slipped his hand inside his pants and gripped himself at the base of his cock, unashamed by his actions and wanting to hear more of Hongjoong's domineering tone.

"Y-yes..."

Not satisfied with her answer, Hongjoong slapped her across her face before gripping her chin. It sent a terrified shiver down Yeosang's back seeing Hongjoong treat Y/N with such utter disrespect and yet......she seemed to enjoy it?

"Yes what?" Hongjoong spat out.

Y/N whimpered as she answered him.

"Yes Master."

Yeosang groaned and stopped his hand movements, not wanting to come anytime soon. Through hooded eyes, he watched the rest of the pornographic video play, from when Hongjoong pushed himself inside Y/N to when he had her trembling underneath him as he poured himself inside of her, completely and effectively fucking her dumb as she stared off somewhere completely lost. With a soft grunt and hisses, Yeosang spilled himself all over his stomach, breathing heavily after having jerked himself off to his roommate's private sex tape. Putting his phone down, he reached for the box of tissues on his dresser and began cleaning himself up....

Completely unaware of the eyes that had been watching him intently.

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

Ever since that day that Hongjoong had witnessed Yeosang touching himself to his and Y/N's secret tape, it began giving him a few ideas, ideas that weren't particularly holy at all. It most definitely was an accident and when he realized what he had sent to his roommate he was already off his bed and going over to apologize. He was expecting his somber friend to glare at him or even give him a disgusted look, but he was shocked to find him fully stroking his length, eyes glued to his phone while his mouth released some of the cutest and softest pants he'd ever heard. The sounds kept replaying in his head, especially late at night, often falling asleep to them as if they were some kind of sinful lullaby that he wanted turned into a full blown orchestral song.

And that's how his pretty girlfriend ended up dragged into his unholy desires, dressed to entice in a red two piece lingerie set that he knew would drive Yeosang insane.

"Hongjoong, do you think this is a good idea?" Her hands fidgeted with the bow attached to the middle of her panties.

When they heard the front door signal Yeosang's arrival, Hongjoong looked over at her with a smirk.

"Only one way to find out."

Adjusting the bow on her hair, Y/N watched her boyfriend walk out the room, no doubt going along with his plan of telling Yeosang he had a surprise for him. The boy was probably imagining something like stickers for his skateboard, fried chicken or some cool tshirt Hongjoong would customize for him, he really loved those gifts. Instead, he walked in to find his Hyung's girlfriend sitting on his bed, looking innocent and sexy at the same time. His eyes bulged out, cheeks reddened at the apples and he was whipping his head towards the evilly grinning male next to him, demanding an explanation.

"What? Don't you like my little surprise Sangie? I thought you'd be a little more....excited..."

Yeosang shivered lightly when Hongjoong ran his hand across his pants, gripping softly at the arousal that was forming in them.

"I don't- I don't understand....." Yeosang shyly looked to the ground, hands covering his growing arousal in embarrassment.

"Yeosang I know all about you masturbating to our sex tape."

Y/N kinda felt bad when Yeosang's expression looked guilty and ashamed of himself for even watching it in the first place. But she wasn't going to lie that it turned her on to find out the pure looking skaterboi could have his freaky side and she was more than curious to find out just how wild he could be. She heard, or more like, discerned Yeosang was apologizing to Hongjoong in a very hushed tone. Hongjoong assured him it was perfectly fine and that there was no need to be afraid, that it was after all a present to him. Seeing Yeosang conflict himself with whether this was right or not, Y/N knew it was time for her to speak up.

"Yeosangie...."

He immediately responded to her sultry call for him, ready to obey anything she said. When she patted the spot on the bed next to her, his feet quickly moved to sit next to her, although he kept his eyes on the floor, not daring to look her right in the eye and much less at her body. His cute behavior stirred something inside Y/N, a more dominant side of her wanting to come out. She began stroking his hair, which made him visible stiffen and inhale sharply.

"You can look at me Yeosang. It's ok."

Brushing the hair away from his forehead, her hand went down to his cheek, caressing it as she turned his face to look at her. He visible gulped when she asked him:

"Don't you think I look pretty?"

Unable to resist himself, he finally scanned her body, eyes tracing every curve and lingering a little too much on her exposed cleavage.

"You look so fucking pretty." He had to admit.

Hongjoong watched with a proud smirk as Yeosang let Y/N kiss him softly and slowly melt into a more heated kiss. Although he was possessive by nature, something about sharing his most prized possession with his extremely handsome best friend got him riled up and he couldn't wait until they both fucked her dumb. He was just waiting for Yeosang to flip the tables on her, cause he knew that although his girlfriend was taking the lead at the moment, practically devouring the boy inside her mouth and straddling his lap, he also knew Yeosang was more dominant by nature. He just liked to play off an innocent and naive façade only to suddenly flip the switch and have whoever he's with underneath him and obeying his orders. And that's exactly what happened.

As Y/N was getting lost into their heated and sloppy makeout session, she let out a startled grunt when Yeosang's hand gripped the back of her hair, tugging it harshly as his nose brushed across her exposed neck.

"Just cause you're on top right now, doesn't mean I'm letting you take charge. Got it little kitten?" He smirked when he heard her moan out at her favorite pet name.

"Yes Yeosangie-"

She had no time to finish her sentence because Yeosang gripped her chin tightly, effectively silencing her.

"For tonight, forget about Yeosangie. You will only address me as Sir."

With no warning, he flipped her onto the bed, pinning her arms up and diving straight for her neck, making sure to suck and bite hard enough to leave purple blotches splattered across her soft almost velvet like skin. When Y/N looked back at her boyfriend, he was already almost fully undressed, leaving only his boxers on, hand palming himself as he stared at them with lustful eyes. Cupping her breasts, Yeosang squeezed them into his hands before pulling them out of the confining garment. Having always been a boobs type of guy, he of course began to hungrily suck on them, his tongue flicking against her sensitive nipples. Y/N arched her back, her mind wondering where the fuck did the shy skater went to? Was the boy who could barely say 3 words on their first meeting also the same man that was turning her into putty the lower he began kissing down her body?

When Yeosang got in between her thighs, he could not believe how drenched she already was.

"Fuck. We've barely done anything Hyung." Yeosang pressed a finger to her clothed heat.

Finally deciding it was time to join, Hongjoong moved Y/N so that her head was resting on the edge of the bed, prompting Yeosang to move as well.

"I know. She's such a dirty little slut. Gets turned on by even the smallest of things." He teased her as his hand lightly smacked her cheek.

"Don't call her that Hyung.....she's just a little princess. Can't help it if she's just a little spoiled." Yeosang cooed as he began pulling her soaked panties off.

Y/N gasped when Yeosang blew a little air onto her dripping core, eagerly anticipating him to do something. It was Hongjoong though that made her break her gaze from him when he slapped an all too familiar pierced member on her forehead.

"Hey, just cause Yeosang is willing to go soft on you and dote on you, doesn't mean you earned it from me."

Hongjoong tilted her head lower so it'd be easier for her to take him in.

"You're going to work that filthy mouth of yours and suck me dry you dirty kitten. I don't want you getting distracted by Yeosang eating you out or else I won't let you cum tonight." He warned her before shoving his dick inside her warm mouth in one go.

Yeosang only chuckled as he leaned in closer to her heat.

"I'll make sure to make it difficult for her."

Y/N moaned around Hongjoong's dick when she felt Yeosang's wet muscle side across her slick folds. Although he did not own a tongue in like her boyfriend did, he really was making it difficult for her to focus on sucking off Hongjoong. The way he swirled his tongue around her clit, or when he'd give it a particularly harsh suck that shot waves up at her. She could feel him smiling cockily too, he knew the power he held at that moment. Using his fingers to pry her lips open, he dwelved his tongue inside her dripping hole, causing her to briefly mumble out Yeosang's name while her mouth was still stuffed with Hongjoong's cock. She let out a choked yelp when the latter forced his cock deep inside her throat, the ampallang piercing touching her uvula, as his hand came down to strike her cheek.

"You're seriously calling out another man's name after I told you to focus on me you little bitch? Are you too dumb to even do a simple order?"

Gripping the sides of her jaw, he began to fuck her face, causing Y/N to choke around his length but eventually hollowing out her cheeks to welcome his intrusion. Although Yeosang looked up just to witness the sick and twisted scene, he did not deter in his task of eating Y/N out. He was determined to have her cum all over his face. By the way her hips began rolling onto his face and her thighs were closing around his head, he knew she was definitely close. Noticing her body movements as well, Hongjoong firmly looked at Yeosang.

"Don't you dare let her cum Yeosang."

Yeosang snickered amusedly, finding it funny how Hongjoong tried to order him around. Instead, the brat in him decided to completely ignore him, burying his face deeper in her, his mouth working hard to get her to reach that release she desperately wanted to achieve. When she began squirming under him, his hand held her hips down, tongue lapping up all the sweet juices she was pouring out. Yeosang was disappointed that her pleasured moans were currently being muffled by Hongjoong's cock, the latter tensing up when he felt the vibrations all around him.

"Fucking hell!"

Pulling out of her mouth with a loud popping sound, he finished himself off as he came all over her chin and neck, face red and eyes glaring down at Yeosang, who shot him a smug smile as he wiped the remainder of her juices off his chin and nose and licked his hand when he was done.

"You're such a fucking brat." Hongjoong growled at him.

"And what are you going to do? Spank me daddy?" He scoffed at the older male.

Setting Y/N upright, Hongjoong picked her up and set her down on the chair by the computer.

"You're not allowed to move, speak or touch yourself. You'll sit there like a good little bitch and watch what happens when you test me or disobey."

Y/N quickly nodded at Hongjoong's words, watching with fear and anticipation as turned his attention back to a still defiant Yeosang. After stripping off his clothes as Hongjoong told him to, Yeosang obligingly layed on his stomach, wiggling his ass when his Hyung came up behind him. Hongjoong had a suspiciously calm smile as his hand traced the curve of his Donsaeng's back before gently kneading at the flesh on his cheeks. When Y/N saw him reach under the bed for the black velvet bag he had hid just in case, she knew exactly what he was up to and wanted to warn Yeosang, but remembered the strict command she was given.

"Gave up already Hyung? I knew you're just all talk when you said you were a Dom-"

Yeosang groaned when Hongjoong took hold of his arms and swiftly tied them behind his back. Yeosang tested the ropes binding his hands and effectively discovered that they were very tight. He inhaled deeply when he felt something like leather stroke his ass cheeks. Hongjoong let out a soft chuckle as he brought the object close to Yeosang's face so he could take a look at what it was. The brown haired male paled slightly as he looked straight at the top of a black riding crop. Hongjoong used the tip to slightly turn Yeosang's head so he could see the sadistic smile across his face.

"I'm going to show you little brat how us Doms train you into submission."

After patting that stubborn head of his friend, Hongjoong held the riding crop over his head, momentarily keeping it there to keep a suspenseful atmosphere. Y/N looked over at Yeosang with a worried look, meeting her eyes briefly, he sent a wink her way, silently assuring her that he was completely fine with it.

Swish

"Ahh!"

Yeosang let out an almost pained howl when the first strike came down on his ass.

"One." Hongjoong began.

One stroke soon turned to 5, and then 10, Yeosang's milky white skin started as a bright pink but was now a deep red. He kept his face buried in the mattress underneath him which drowned out his screams and whimpers. All throughout his ordeal, Y/N rubbed her legs together, pressing her thighs against each other, quickly becoming aroused once more and feeling needy once more. Yeosang's whining was not helping her case either, if anything his behavior was making her want to disobey her boyfriend as well, her hand creeping dangerously close to her knee.

"Are you going to apologize for being a brat now or should I keep going? The longer you drag this on, the longer it'll take for both you and Y/N to cum. I mean look at her..."

Grabbing a hold of Yeosang's hair, Hongjoong lifted his face so he could look over at the squirming girl on his chair.

"She's practically aching for you to be inside her."

Although Yeosang wanted to continue his defiance, not only was he craving his own release, but seeing Y/N made him rethink his choice.

"Yeosang, I'll tell you what. Give up now....and I'll let you take her ass."

Y/N couldn't believe her ears. Hongjoong wasn't serious was he? Yeosang sucking in a breath answered that for her, and more so when he immediately did as he was asked.

"I'm sorry f-for being a brat Hyung. I p-promise it won't happen again."

Flipping him on his back, Hongjoong gripped Yeosang's red and painfully erect cock in his hand, making the younger boy hiss in pleasure and pain.

"Tell me what you want Yeosang." Hongjoong ushered him to speak up, his thumb running across the other's slit.

"Wanna make our girl feel good. Wanna be buried inside her and fuck her like a queen."

As he spoke those words, he looked at Y/N with hooded eyes, hips bucking up as Hongjoong began stroking him gently, soft moans and grunts coming out from Yeosang's mouth, the very same ones Hongjoong wanted to hear from the beginning.

"And you will baby boy, but can you both be patient for a little bit?"

Hongjoong turned when Y/N let out a frustrated whine, bottom lip poking out.

"I'll get to you soon kitten ok? But let me help Yeosang for a little bit. He hasn't gotten a chance to come even once and he's throbbing in my hand right now."

Having been frustrated for too long, Yeosang melted into Hongjoong's touch when he picked up the pace and began to stroke him harder. He tried biting his lip in an effort to hold back his noises but Hongjoong halted his movements.

"Open your mouth and let those filthy moans come out your throat or else I'll put a cock ring on you."

As if on cue, Yeosang's began releasing the most unholy series of whimpers and whines as Hongjoong pumped him into a dazy haze that would soon be broken and explode all over his Hyung's hand. He just needed an extra push and he'd come collapsing from his already high state. Hongjoong felt when Yeosang began twitching, a sign he was going to come.

"Hyung-Hyung!-"

Hongjoong immediately dropped to his knees and opened his mouth wide to catch some of the cum that spurted out of Yeosang, leaving Y/N speechless. She knew her boyfriend was rather kinky and had interesting tastes, but this just made her let out a big 'oof' at his actions. And what followed just made her practically drip. Taking advantage of Yeosang's sensitive state, Hongjoong licked up his softening dick and made sure to press his tongue piercing into his slit, making Yeosang push him off, unable to take anymore.

"Ok baby boy, guess you're not ready for overstimulation yet." Hongjoong ruffled his hair before cupping the red faced boy's cheeks and kissing him softly, drilling his tongue in his mouth, letting him not only taste himself but allowing him to play around with his tongue piercing that always made him curious.

They were only broken from their amorous trance when they heard a frustrated squeak coming from the poor girl sitting on the chair in front of them.

"I think we've neglected our princess for too long Hyung." Yeosang was the one who got up and went over to fetch Y/N, who eagerly accepted his embrace and let him carry her over to the bed.

Hongjoong was already getting out the lube to help with the process that was about to come.

"I don't know....I'm tempted to make her wait a little more."

Y/N shook her head furiously to which Yeosang giggled.

"Don't worry princess. I'll make sure you're more than satisfied."

Turning her so her back was to his chest, Yeosang took the lube from Hongjoong's hand and poured some onto his fingers. Hongjoong in turn tilted Y/N's chin, and made her look at him.

"You're lucky Yeosang is nice kitten. If it were up to me, I'd make you wait around and beg like the whiny bitch you are."

Y/N poked her bottom lip out, making puppy eyes at Hongjoong so he wouldn't follow through on it. Wanting to assure her, Yeosang pressed kisses on her shoulder.

"Don't listen to him princess."

Yeosang slipped two of his lubed fingers into her tight hole, reading her body signals and slowly prepping her. Sensing her apprehension, Yeosang looked over at Hongjoong.

"Should we maybe try something else?"

But Y/N didn't want to deter them.

"No! Please! Fuck both my holes."

Yeosang instantly got hard once again at her words. When Y/N pressed herself back onto his length, he got the hint that she wanted them to stop stalling. As Yeosang finished lubing her up, Hongjoong lined himself up at her entrance, not needing to prep her pussy hole as she was practically soaked to the core, making it easy for him to slide inside her. Even after all the times he had entered her in the past months, she could still not get over the feeling of his pierced dick stretching out her walls. Before she could fully get adjusted to him, Yeosang was already sliding into her other tight hole, causing a pained shiver to run down her spine. Hongjoong rapidly kissed her to distract her from the uncomfortable feeling. Yeosang as well slid his hands up to cup her breasts, pinching her nipples softly as he fully inserted his length inside her, fighting the urge to move until she adjusted to his size.

After a few minutes, she pulled away from Hongjoong's kiss and nodded at him.

"You good?" He asked one last time.

"I'm good." Turning her head back so she could look at Yeosang, she added: "Go ahead."

Giving each other an enthusiastic look, both men began moving inside of her. Y/N had never felt so full, each time one of them slipped out of her, the other was already slipping back in, never allowing her to get a moment's rest from the overwhelming feeling they were giving her.

"You're enjoying this aren't you kitten? I can feel you clenching all around me and I bet that other hole of yours is squeezing Yeosang as well."

With no warning, Hongjoong slipped his hand back and struck her ass twice, causing her to yelp.

"Aren't you, you whore?"

As soon as he finished his words, Yeosang stepped in to caress her slapped skin.

"It's ok princess, it's just means we're fucking you right like you're supposed to be."

Y/N loved the polar opposites both of them were giving her. Hongjoong's degradation being softened by Yeosang's praise and care was something she didn't know she needed until she felt a familiar coil build up in her lower stomach.

"She's close..... can you tell Yeosang? With the way she's struggling to breathe and her walls tightening, she's about to burst all over." Hongjoong noted.

Reaching over to fumble with her clit, Yeosang whispered in a raspy voice:

"Cum for us baby girl. Just let it out."

Feeling the coil snap inside, she cried out their names as they slowed down their movements, letting her come down from her high and become relaxed. She was completely unaware of the slick smiles and hints they exchanged between themselves. Taking advantage of her unfocused state, Hongjoong gripped her hips while Yeosang wrapped his hand around her neck, both jolting they began pounding into her at an even fiercer speed than before, loud squealching sounds echoing through the room as incoherent babbling came from Y/N's mouth, tears dripping down her cheeks from their overstimulation.

"Joong...Sang..-"

Hongjoong slapped her ass once again.

"Wrong name stupid, stupid kitten."

Any word she even thought of spitting out was choked out by Yeosang's grip tightened around her throat.

"It's Master and Sir to you little pet."

"S-sorry......m-master...s-sir-"

With tremendous effort, she managed to get out those 3 words in between her whimpered screams that were probably being heard by the neighbors, not to mention the creaking of the bed underneath them. Being overstimulated past her limit, it didn't take long for Y/N to become undone once more, this time even more violently than the previous one. If the boys hadn't been holding her up, she would have collapsed onto the bed. But their strong arms, both tha tattooed ones and the non-tattooed held her up as both boys chased their own release. Through gritted teeth, they let out choked moans, making sure to fill her up to the brim as they coated her walls with their sticky cum. Once they garnered enough strength and their headspace, they pulled out of her, a trail of slick cascading down her thighs. Y/N winced at the sudden void that action left in her, her eyes focused on the ceiling as her mind just stayed blank from all the events that just happened. Yeosang was the first one to get up.

"I'll go run a bath."

Understanding what he was doing, Hongjoong leaned down and brushed some of the hair sticking to his girlfriend's forehead off her face. Kissing the spot gently, his tone turned more soft and warm than what it had been minutes ago.

"It's ok, you did so well my love. We'll run you a nice bath and then tuck you into bed so you can rest ok?"

Her mind barely processed what he said, she simply nodded and allowed herself to be carried by Hongjoong into the bathroom. Yeosang was in the process of making sure the water temperature was perfect and had already added scented bubble bath mix in there to help her relax more.

"You certainly do go the extra mile." Hongjoong pointed out.

Yeosang shrugged.

"Just cause she's not mine doesn't mean I'm not going to take care of her after I practically helped you fuck her brains out."

Both Y/N and Yeosang thought they were too worn out and dumb to fully comprehend the next words Hongjoong spoke.

"As far as I'm concerned, she's also yours after tonight."

Y/N craned her neck to look at Yeosang's reaction, who sat there incredulous.

"I mean, if you don't want to I understand..."

Hongjoong looked over at his lover, knowing fully well she would not mind adding their savage yet charismatic accomplice into their relationship. After Y/N gave him a reassuring smile, Yeosang stood up and took her away from Hongjoong's embrace.

"Guess you're mine now too princess."

━━━━━ • ஜ • ❈ • ஜ • ━━━━━

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[jangmi-latte]

Hi Chii! This is for the TWST ANNIVERSARY, and scenario format is fine. Main focus line is Silver: “You want to study together? You work really hard.” Next character is Riddle: “Have you been to the library yet? You should definitely stop at least once sometime. There are a lot of books you’d fine useful there.” Oof, that was a lot, and hopefully I did this right, if not I can always resend it if you’d like! ~🍒cherry nonnie

╰──➢   “ You want to study together? You work really hard. ”

❥ cherry nonnie, is everything alright? you’ve been making me smile from your asks but i understood you on your first ask <3. may our waiters, silver & riddle rosehearts, treat you with this anniversary special dessert!

“Oh, hello there.”

He greeted you with a gentle smile; no it wasn’t Silver, it was his father. You-- a young-second year no older than seventeen -- bowed at the older mage in a sign of respect. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Vanrouge! I assume Silver already told you about my arrival?”

“Of course he did,” tittered the old fae as he let you in. “He surprisingly woke up earlier than he usually does.” Lilia led you towards the lounge of their shared home within the Valley of Thorns. 

“Oh, one more thing--” he opened the door to the lounge, “--avoid the second floor for now. Malleus is still asleep. We wouldn’t want to disturb him. Though, I trust you and Silver to keep it down with whatever you two plan to do today.”

You nodded, going inside after thanking him. Your eyes scanned the room in wonder. The Valley of Thorns’ common interior design always held dark colors. The only exception is when one of the home’s residents is light-colored, y’know? Like, tousled silver hair scattered on the couch arm, maybe even a white turtleneck hugging his figure, his aurora-colored eyes closed for the world not to see, and his pinkish lips slightly open while soft even breaths blew out. 

And Lilia said he woke up early, yes?

“Silver,” you whispered out, looking over the door while folding your lips and looking back at the young man on the couch. “Silver,” you called out louder, nudging the said man until he groaned and opened his eyes.

As his eyes came to view, you leaned forward, waving at him with a closed-lip smile. “Good morning-- or should I say afternoon?” you giggled. Silver blinked, and blinked, and blinked. His brain slowly processed what happened until he recognized your face. Jolting up into a sitting position he rubbed his eyes as he muttered, “I fell asleep...again?” 

“Nothing I’m not used to. But I’m glad you actually waited for me.”

You sat on the windowsill across from him, and while you looked at the horses at the nearby stable, you heard him shuffling from where he sat. Still looking a tad bit drowsy, he watched as you swung your legs back and forth. “I wanted to ask for some help. You’re the only one who I can approach since, well, you’re the only one I’m closed with. I also believe you’re great at teaching.”

Confused, Silver stood up from the couch and stood beside you on the window, “You’re saying?”

“I want to study with you when it comes to horseback riding. I really need to ace my exam,” you said, gulping as you watched one of the horses run around freely. You were never confident around horses. Not that they scare you, it’s just because of their boisterous behavior. They can kick and probably trample over you if you don’t handle them properly. 

“You want to study together?” Silver mumbled, glancing at you while you nervously glanced at the horses. 

“If it’s no trouble, Silv. I just really need some help.” Your eyes met his. He could sense your determination despite the worry and nervousness in your system. He doesn’t doubt his horseback riding skills, yet he knew himself that he has more training to do. Maybe, both of you can learn something new together. 

“Alright,” he agreed, “Let’s head to the stables.”

The height of the horses baffled you. Horses are no stranger to the Valley of Thorns yet you never actually got a chance to come near one considering you never even needed to. Each horse held their own distinctive color; white, brown, black, spotted, and there was even one with a long white mane and a thick tail. It was beautiful. 

Silver caught sight of you staring at one of the attractive horses their stable owned. It was his horse. “Do you want to ride Cloud?” His hand caressed the horse’s snout -- the mammal exhaled as a response to the touch.

“Cloud?” you repeated, reaching out to gently touch her soft mane. “She’s so beautiful...”

“She’s a rare Gypsy Vanner. A gift from father when I first rode a horse. You could say she’s become a friend of mine,” Silver shared, and while you listened, a smile stretched on your lips. “Then you must really be fond of her,” you said.

“We grew up together, so to say.” Silver cleared his throat and opened the stable door, his hand tightly held the reigns as he let Cloud out of the stable. The way she lightly neighed, her little shakes of relief, and the way she nudged Silver made you giggle yet feel weary. What if she doesn’t like you? What if she ran too fast? 

“Don’t be scared. She doesn’t hurt anyone,” Silver reassured as he adjusted the saddle. “Anyways, what is your exam about?” You followed him towards the equestrian facility (the place where horses are trained), walking beside him as you eyed Cloud. 

“Just basic horseback riding training. Cantering, galloping, trotting…” you explained. Not that hard, yes? You don’t need to have Cloud jump over bars or make her do tricks. Just basic running techniques to pass your exam. Silver, is no doubt, surprised. It’s really simple. But what if you held another horse? 

He hummed, letting Cloud stand steadily, he reached out for your hand and led it towards the horse. “It’s important that the horse knows you. They need to trust you in order to listen to you. I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did before.” Your hand felt Cloud’s soft fur around her neck. It exhaled in delight, signifying that she knows you and would most likely trust you. 

“What did you do?”

Silver looked away embarrassed, he vaguely remembers the day like it was just yesterday. How could he forget the fact a horse nearly sent him flying just because he rode it immediately without even acknowledging the fact it’s a wild horse. Thanks to the Great Seven, Lilia and Malleus were there to calm the horse down and grab him before he got severely injured.

“It’s nothing… Come, I’ll help you up.”

Oh, to be aware of one’s touches must be quite a delight to both parties. You hooked your left foot around the stirrup while Silver held your hand as support while you lifted yourself up the horse’s saddle. Once you’re sat, he immediately kept Cloud steady as he looked up at you. “You good?”

You nodded, smiling down at the horse. “Good girl,” you cooed. 

Silver looked at the path ahead of you, he wondered --  should he ride behind you or hold the reins until you got the hang of it? You’re still a beginner and he could either lead you properly by riding along or just standing by. When he was young, Lilia would ride behind him on the horse and he would just learn by watching him handle the reins.

Think, Silver, think.

“Are you getting up? I really don’t trust myself with the horse when you let me handle her alone…”

There’s the answer.

And now he’s behind you with his hands on yours as you both hold the reins. Cloud was trotting on the dirt as gently as Silver ordered her to do. Though with your obliviousness -- more of just being focused on his guide -- you failed to notice the fact that the young man behind you is enjoying your company.

You would squeal out loud if Cloud decided to go faster or tightly hold onto his hand and lean on his chest if you felt like falling off. It was hard not to find you adorable. And yet you’re still determined to learn. Back in NRC, he, Riddle, and Sebek would often yell at each other if one decides to flop. It’s not easy to handle horses, and yet you’re here handling Cloud well. Someday, you’ll ride another horse with confidence and just by yourself.

He tried to hop off the horse and let you handle Cloud on your own, maybe you aren’t the slickest or the fastest of learners, but you sure could control a horse now. Silver’s instincts were just as fast as he trained himself to be, almost running by your side when Cloud gets too excited with running.

He stayed so alert.

Hell, he didn’t even doze off in a while. 

“You work hard,” he praised you after you were able to halt the horse’s running smoothly. Both of you sharing a grin before proceeding with the next course. Hours and hours of practice, and you’re learning.

Lilia even forgot what in the living fuck he was boiling as he stared outside at the both of you. “Now, Silver didn’t tell me he had a little date.”

╰──➢   “ Have you been to the library yet? You should definitely stop at least once sometime. There are a lot of books you’d fine useful there ”

“I thought you would know the way around the Rose Kingdom since you live here,” Cater teased as he looked out the window of the train he and Riddle sat in. The younger boy scoffed and crossed his arms.

“I barely go out of my home. I’m even surprised you know the place more than I do. I know the area but not how to go there.” Riddle sighed, looking down at the phone on his lap once he heard it ring from a message.

A message from you.

That’s right; the only reason Riddle is heading somewhere with Cater was that you offered to visit a historical museum with him. The purpose of this little trip was for you to learn something in terms of magical history. Where’s the fun in just sitting down and reading in your bedroom when you can experience the said history hands-on?

Cater was there to accompany Riddle throughout the journey and would most likely explore his own way while you two converse about whatever question and lesson you had in mind. You knew Riddle was one of the top students in his school. You also knew he wouldn’t refuse an opportunity for him to teach you something he knows. 

When the train stopped, both students went off and down the museum just a few blocks away from the station. In front of the said museum was what Cater called: Riddle’s date. No, it was, in no way, a date. It was a simple study session. “Just in time, as always.” You stood up from the bench you were sitting on and met the two guys halfway. Cater had waved at you while Riddle looked at the exterior design of the museum.

It was a museum dedicated to the Queen of Hearts.

Riddle has been there a couple of times already. He has learned to love the place; though it's been a few years since he last visited. 

"I'll leave you two here. There's a mall near this place and I wanna look around. See ya, Riddle, y/n!" Cater waved as he walked away. Riddle’s eyes moved back to you, watching as you looked at the museum, "Let's head in!"

You thought, again, thought, that the museum would be bustling with people left and right considering how popular it was in the Rose Kingdom. However, the moment you entered its walls, there were only around fifteen to twenty-five people inside — for the most part, you were in the main lobby. 

"What are your concerns about?" Riddle began as he looked up at the huge statue of the Queen of Hearts situated in the middle of the lobby. Astonish were thee as you read the description of the queen. 

'The Queen had only one way of settling all difficulties, great or small. 'Off with his head!' she said, without even looking around.'

"She was very powerful, indeed," he said whilst he looked at the decoy of the queen's crown situated in a case. "Those who looked at her, or even heard her name, are terrified."

"What magic does she hold?" you asked, circling the statue as Riddle followed behind. 

"She holds great physical strength. As you can see—" Riddle pointed at the statue, "—she was big. Though some would label her as fat due to what Alice said, but in our school, she was mighty. I do wonder how she was able to grow so strong." He walked ahead of you and towards a painting. In that painting held the Queen of Hearts while she played croquet.

"Not only that. She aced in croquet and she ruled over her kingdom for how long. You could say she held authority no one could handle. Not even her own guards and husband." 

As he spoke, your legs brought you over the hallways that held marvelous paintings of the queen. He was just by your side the whole time. "You did say you were in a dorm that's named after her, yes?" you asked, looking over at him.

Riddle nodded. "The statue you saw in the main hall was the same statue that's near our school's entrance. It's only proper for her to be standing there. She is one of the Great Seven after all."

"And you're the dorm leader in that dorm. You also have her rules applied to your very dorm. Tell me, Riddle. Do you admire her?" You both stood in front of another glass case. This time, holding the Queen of Hearts' sceptre. A heart with a gold staff, not even a single speck of withering is shown. It looked so expensive and very antique. 

Riddle was quiet after you asked the question. Looking at him, you noticed how he stared at the queen's sceptre. Just above that sceptre was another painting of the queen, it was her on her throne with a villainous smirk on her face. It sent shivers down your spine.

"I do."

You faced Riddle once again. He had a serious expression on his face as he faced you. "She's the reason why I became the dorm leader that I am today. It was by my own choice to follow her rules and her doings. Not only for myself but for the sake of my dorm."

"Riddle..."

His voice held the authority of a dorm leader you never got to hear — considering as you go to different schools. You don't know how he is as a dorm leader, but judging by how he looked at the queen's painting, it's enough to convince you that he, Riddle Rosehearts…

Is the King of Heartslabyul.

The glass case that held the sceptre had a small hole — big enough to fit a hand or two — with a note above: 'Touch with precaution'. With a little bit of hesitation, you reached out and touched the sceptre. Warmth seeped through his hand as Riddle, too, reached out to touch the sceptre only for it to land on your hand. You both froze, staring at each other in surprise. It was he who pulled away first, cheeks painted as red as the hallway's walls. 

"H-Have you been to the library yet? We should definitely stop at least once sometime." He coughed out, looking away from you. "There are a lot of books you’d find useful there. Didn't you say you wanted to know more about the queen's history based on your topic for your exam?"

And he walked ahead. 

Your hand slowly moved to your chest after you let go of the sceptre. Looking down to your feet as you chuckled to yourself. Folding your lips as you covered your mouth and looked back at Riddle's walking figure. 

The Queen— well, King — of Hearts may have a temperament. But he sure can be admirable at times when needed… 

"Are you coming or not?"

© jangmi-latte, all rights reserved. Happy to Serve!

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #silver twisted wonderland #twst silver #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #twisted wonderland silver x reader #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #heartslabyul #heartslabyul x reader #twst imagines #night raven college #twisted wonderland scenarios

[bwbatta]

one - favour

Abstract: Draco and you are just friends so doing him a favour and pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t effect your friendship, right?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Warnings: A few swear words but nothing else!

Word count: 1806

A/N: I debated for ages whether or not to make this into a series and alas the series won! Let me know what you think and get in touch, depending on interest I may create a taglist for it!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2

If there was one person on Earth who was the definition of annoying, it was Pansy Parkinson.

At least that’s what Draco thought anyway.

She would constantly cling onto him and leave some not so subtle hints for him to ask her out and date her. That is, along with the rumours she would spread herself about Draco having a massive crush on her.

Everyday would be the same: get up, have breakfast, Pansy would talk his ear off about some nonsense, he would tell her he’s not interested, she wouldn’t listen.

Then next on the list was going to class, seeing you, you’d make him laugh, then have some lunch.

Pansy would corner him again in the Great Hall, then he’d go back to class, finish class, avoid Pansy until dinner, most likely run into you, spend time with you, go to dinner, and be blindsided by Pansy again.

Any time off that Draco had, he would be approached by the annoyingly resilient girl he just couldn’t get rid of. She just didn’t get the fact he wasn’t interested.

He sighed, irritated already at only 8am, picking at his slice of toast on his plate.

Crabbe and Goyle were sat with him stuffing their faces as they usually did. It was almost sickening really and despite the fact Draco had hissed at them repeatedly to stop spraying food on him while they talked, food flying out their mouths, they never listened.

Draco thanked his parents silently for teaching him some manners at least.

He felt her before he saw her.

The Malfoy boy swore the room dropped several degrees as the girl he dreaded to see sauntered in like she owned the place, eyes narrowing on him as she made a beeline towards him.

Even Crabbe groaned when he saw her. Now that was really saying something.

“Hi Drakey baby”

“Don’t call me that”

“Aw you know you love it”

“No, I really don’t, Parkinson, I can’t tell you enough to be completely honest”

Pansy ignored him, like usual, and continued to talk at him about something mind numbing as Draco made the conscious straining effort to drown her out.

That was until he saw you entering the Great Hall.

Unconsciously his eyes locked onto you and Pansy was as far from his focus as possible. You greeted people when you walked by them, even at this early hour, and Draco couldn’t help but admire that quality in you.

He watched as you sat down at your house table, welcomed by your friends as you grabbed your morning coffee. Something he knew you wouldn’t be able to get through the day without.

Your eyes then flittered around the Great Hall before they locked with his, smiling at his already warm stare on you. 

Raising a hand you wiggled your fingers at him in a wave which he acknowledged with a grin. Your eyes shot to Pansy before returning to Draco with the most sarcastic eyebrow raise he’d seen on you, before you went one step further, and wiggled them suggestively. 

You knew how much Pansy bothered your friend, his excessive ranting to you about the annoying girl proving that fact to be correct. So you, being the good friend you are, would always sarcastically make fun of his unfortunate situation.

His eyes narrowed at you in a mocking glare to which you couldn’t help but laugh at, enjoying his misery.

“Are you even listening to me?”

Draco’s gaze was snapped away from you to the girl beside him who had poked him harshly in the arm and fitted him with a glare of her own.

“Nope”

“Draco!”

He zoned her out again, eyes finding yours once more which crinkled in amusement at his situation. He rolled his eyes at you, a daily expression to show how irritated he already was before the day had really even started.

You shrugged your shoulders back, acknowledging his irritation before one of your friends caught your attention by waving a hand over your face, effectively breaking your silent conversation with the Malfoy boy.

Draco sighed again and checked his watch.

The small hands showed he still had another half an hour before class, and the boy prayed time would move faster so he could get away from the persistent headache that was Pansy Parkinson.

You took your seat in the potions classroom, smoothing down your robes as you readied yourself for your last class of the day.

The entire day had dragged and you were just thankful to nearly make it through, with only the exception of Potions class. Normally this wouldn’t be too bad thankfully because of your potions partner, but it currently seemed like he was late and class was about to start any minute.

The door to the room slammed open and Snape strode in, black cape billowing behind him like a giant bat. You shoved the laugh that threatened to escape your lips down as the thought played over in your head.

“Quiet” the dark haired professor shot the class a nasty glare. “Today you will be making the Draught of Peace. Your mark for this potion will go towards your final grade so you best not mess it up.”

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“Begin.”

Just as you stood up to get your ingredients, the door banged open again and a flustered Draco entered the room with a scowl on his face. 

Snape barely batted an eye at Draco’s late entrance, only pinning him with a firm look before moving onto glare at some unfortunate Hufflepuff.

Draco took his seat next to you and dropped his bag under the desk with a thump after taking out his potions textbook.

“What potion are we doing?” he asked not even looking at you as he skimmed his way through the book.

“Draught of Peace” you replied with a frown “You okay?”

Draco slammed his book shut with a sigh and turned to you with a furious look on his face.

“She tried to give me a bloody love potion!”

The ‘she’ in question was no mystery to either of you as you knew exactly who he meant.

Even still, your jaw dropped as you reciprocated his statement with a look of utter disbelief.

“What?!”

“A bloody love potion!” he practically growled “I can’t believe how fucking deranged she is that she can’t understand the words ‘I’m not fucking interested!’, I mean is she delirious?!” 

You didn’t really know what to reply, which was apparently evident on your face as Draco sighed, calming himself down.

“How did you find out she tried to give you a love potion?” You managed to question.

“Blaise knocked my cup out of my hand before I could drink it, said he saw her put something in it across the Great Hall and managed to get to me before anything happened.”

“Merlin” you cursed “she really is desperate.”

“You’re telling me” he rolled his eyes in exasperation before he reopened his textbook to the right page this time.

The two of you started your potions, working together as a team like you usually did which helped each of you out at the end of the day. 

“You know,” you said stirring your cauldron “she may stop bothering you if you actually date someone else?”

Draco suddenly froze at the suggestion.

“I mean, if you were actually in a relationship with someone else.” You continued to speak your mind, not noticing the blonde boy’s mind now whirring full of a new idea. “She might back off and leave you alone when she sees your not available anymore. Just a thought.”

It was then Draco turned to you with a new light in his eyes and a look of wonder on his face.

This, you noticed. 

“What are you thinking about?” you frowned.

“That that’s a perfect idea!” he practically glowed. “You could date me!”

You swore you almost choked on the air in your lungs.

“What?!”

“See, it would work so well! She would finally leave me alone and give me some peace of mind so I don’t go insane, and we get on so well anyway that no one would really blink an eye if we started dating!”

He had now completely turned to you, eyes wide at his idea, huge grin across his face. His hand rested on your arm as he tried to portray his enthusiasm for this idea.

“Draco... I don’t know” you were apprehensive about the situation

“Oh (Y/N), come on, please! Help me out! Call it a favour?”

“A favour is when you ask a friend to copy notes from a class, not fake an entire relationship!” you whisper shouted at him

“Come on, I’ll even buy you that Honeydukes bundle and pair of boots you’ve been going on about for ages for Christmas?” 

“Draco-”

“I’ll play nice with Granger?!”

You went to turn down the idea again but stopped yourself as soon as this entered the bargain.

“You’ll be nice to Hermione?”

“...yes”

“Merlin, you’re serious about this?”

“Deadly”

Hermione had been your friend since first year and the most crucial problem of your friendship was the friendship you had with Draco. The Granger girl felt she couldn’t really say how she absolutely hated Draco to you, and the fact he constantly tried to go out of his way to be horrible to her.

You knew Draco picked on Hermione and you constantly would tell him off about it with the promise he’d listen and not do it again. That was, only for the moment to pass, and another comment being made about her being a ‘mudblood’ would slip past his lips.

You watched as Draco watched you with apprehension. No matter how much he was putting on a calm exterior, you could tell he was serious about this.

“...So you’ll be nice to Hermione and get me the big basket of chocolate in the Honeydukes window?...and the super cute designer boots?”

“Yes!” he said adamantly “I’ll even get you two bundles of the chocolate, and the boots in however many colours you want”

“They only really look good in black but I guess owning the tan brown ones couldn’t hurt” you contemplated “Throw in the matching tan jacket?”

“Done”

“Draco Malfoy, looks like you’ve got yourself a fake girlfriend” you grinned knocking your shoulder against his own “Don’t be too desperate though or I might think your name’s Pansy”

He shot you an unimpressed look.

“Kidding” you winked before turning back to your potion 

“I can’t believe you caved because of chocolate, new boots and the fact I said I’d be nice to Granger” he chuckled, returning to stir his own potion “you’re so easy to please”

“And the jacket! Don’t forget the jacket!”

“Of course... and the bloody jacket”

#draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #draco x you #draco x reader #dating draco malfoy #hogwarts #harry potter

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Twelve: Family

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: THE FINAL CHAPTER! very emotional, new beginnings, bullying mention, poverty mention, abuse mention, allusions to pregnancy.

Word count: 3000>

REBLOGS APPRECIATED.

Masterlist 

Previous - Chapter Twelve - Epilogue [coming soon!]

“I don’t know if I could do it,” Maxwell sighed, pacing around in anxious circles. He looked different, in his denim jeans and khaki-green cable knit sweater. It made a change from the oversized powersuits he once donned. Alistair was sat at the dining room table, colouring in, and Max was having a nervous breakdown about getting his haircut. “I’ve had the blonde in for so long.”

You smiled, running your fingers through his shaggy and unstyled hair. When it wasn’t perfectly coiffed, it was wavy and glossy, and smelled distinctly like the freshest green apples. “It’ll be okay. Think of it as washing away all the terrible things that went on in the past and starting anew. Like… turning over a new leaf.” 

You made a very good point. Maxwell knew he had to suck it up and just do it. It would be okay. He didn’t have to be Max Lord anymore, and he didn’t have this television persona to live up to. His main focus now was just being a father, and that’s all that mattered. All he needed to be, was himself. Maxwell Lorenzano.

“Daddy look!” Alistair smiled, waving around the piece of paper he’d spent the morning drawing on. It was stained slightly from his breakfast, and crinkled in the corners for where he’d applied slightly too much pressure when colouring, but all-in-all, it was perfect. Maxwell took the artwork and looked closely at it. Another typical family portrait of you, Alistair and Max. But this time, Maxwell was doting brown hair, and it reminded him of his younger days when he was first starting out as a businessman. “This is how you’ll look when you come home from the salon!”

“Wow Alistair, I love it!” Maxwell praised, unable to contain his grin. He held the portrait to his face and showed it off. “What do you think?” he asked you. “Do you think I’ll look good with the brown hair?” 

You giggled and nodded your head, before pressing the palm of your hand flat against Maxwell’s chest and brushing your lips against his. “You’ll look so handsome, I’m sure.”

“Ew!” Alistair cried, pulling the paper from his father’s hand as you kissed him softly on the lips. The curve of Max’s nose nudged against yours and he laughed at his son’s reaction.

“Alright,” you said, pointing your finger. “You better go. Don’t want to miss your appointment.”

Maxwell nodded and took a deep breath. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” he announced.

The second Maxwell left the house, your stomach began to twist. You’d been living at Lord manor for a month now but truthfully, it felt like a lifetime. It felt like you had always been there. You were adjusting to your new life pretty well, but this morning sickness that you had started to get was an unwelcome experience. Amazon’s never got ill, so this was brand new to you, and you weren’t enjoying it one bit.

You rubbed your stomach and took a sip of the glass of water that you’d been nursing. Sliding down to sit next to Alistair, you watched as he finished his drawing, adding a few final perfections. Once it was done, you hung it to the refrigerator and praised him for his hard work.

“Ali, why don’t you grab your shoes and we’ll have a walk down to the Smithsonian?” you smiled, grabbing your jacket that was hanging over the kitchen door.

“Ooh! Is there a new exhibition?” He enquired curiously, hopping onto his feet and fastening his shoe laces.

“I don’t think so,” you admitted sheepishly. “I have to go meet with some friends.”

Taking the bus was a new experience for both you and Alistair. Joe, Maxwell’s driver, would normally drive Alistair around to and from places. But not today. The bus was slightly smelly and the seats were sticky, but by the looks of it, Alistair was having the time of his life. He pointed out the window, grinning, and talked to you about all the different D.C. landmarks the both of you passed as you were driven into the city centre. He might have only been six years old, but that was six years of living in the world of man. You’d only been here for a month, and so Alistair could teach you a lot. 

Driving past the park, Alistair gasped, and shuffled into your body. “That’s the park where we first met,” Alistair pointed. You narrowed your eyes as you took in the sight of tall green trees and shrubbery. He was right. “Do you remember that day? You were wearing an awesome superhero costume like something out of my comic books. And you wore a tiara, and I asked if you were a princess. And you scared my bullies away, and helped me look for dad.”

“I remember.” you smiled, ruffling Alistair’s dark hair.

You remembered asking Alistair what his father looked like, and the only thing the boy could say was ‘strong, cool, and the best dad in the world’. Counting your lucky stars, you were so thankful you had found your forever family. You had come so far from that moment.

“Did you ever tell daddy… about those bullies in the park?” Alistair asked you hesitantly, his voice suddenly small and timid.

You pulled off him and looked him in the eyes. “No. Why?”

Alistair paused for a moment and glanced back out the window. “I was afraid he’d be disappointed in me.”

Your heart shattered in your chest. “Ali,” you said quietly, tears threatening to prick your eyes. “Your father could never, ever be disappointed in you. You know that, yes?”

Alistair nodded his head silently.

“He loves you so much,” you continued. “And the whole bullying thing… I think he’d understand better than anyone else.”

You remembered all the visions you had of Maxwell, even seeing him as a child at one point. You remembered him wearing rugged clothes that were too small for him and how he was picked on for his broken shoes. 

“Really? You think so?” Alistair asked.

“I know so,” you confirmed, pressing a kiss into Alistair’s hair. “Those bullies will never amount to anything if they continue doing what they’re doing. But you are so much better than them. Stronger. Your power lies in your heart, and in the truth, and in love.”

Alistair smiled. “You’re a real hero, aren’t you?”

“We’re all heroes.”

————

Yourself, Maxwell and Alistair loved trips to the Smithsonian. Diana always organised special access for the three of you, to go after hours when the entire museum was empty. Alistair was admiring the fish in the aquarium, when you noticed Barbara and Diana, and waved them over.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Diana smiled.  

“It was sort of an impulse thing,” you explained. “Uhm, actually, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

You pulled Diana to one side and left Barbara with Alistair. “Remember how you said ‘I owe you one’, since I like… got your girlfriend to renounce her wish and kinda helped you save the world by destroying the second dreamstone?” you grinned, trying to hold back a laugh.

Diana rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “What are you plotting?”

“Max has been… worried, to say the least. We’re going to have to sell Black Gold and it’s a real shame because-- he worked so hard on it. We have some money and well, I haven’t exactly ran this by him yet but I was thinking about investing what we do have into the Smithsonian. Just like what Maxwell promised to do in the first place.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Diana sighed. “The gemology department is doing just fine.”

You shook your head, your smile only growing. “No Di, that’s not what I was getting at. How would you feel about… expanding the gemology department?”

“I’m not quite sure I follow…”

“I’ve heard Barbara talk about how there’s a lack of space to facilitate all the rocks and stones the Smithsonian keeps bringing in. She has a real fear that the entire paleontology department could be shut down and replaced with something else.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

“That’s true…”

“So what if we use the Black Gold building as an extension for the Smithsonian, and have it specialise in all these fancy rocks and gems and stones. We could transport everything over and then we could utilize the leftover funds that Maxwell has, to keep all the palaeontologists and geologists employed. Hell, with a whole new building, we could even create more jobs for people. It would also mean that we wouldn’t have to fire Max’s old employees and-- Oh Di, I just know Max would love it. He really does have a passion for gemology. And his son, Ali… he has an interest too.”

“So I heard,” Diana rolled her eyes, but, to be frank, she liked what you were getting at. An expansion wouldn’t exactly be a bad thing… “It’s a big responsibility though, and it seems you haven’t even spoken to Maxwell about it. You would get funding from the Smithsonian as an institution, yes, but… it would still be Max’s business. Do you really think he could handle that? After what happened to his last business?”

“He’s smart,” you assured her. “And he’s a good businessman. He knows all these things I couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Last time he just got unlucky. But this, this could really be something great. We have the building, and the passion, and enough money to get started. Please Diana… I know you could make this happen. Please.”

Diana spent a moment pondering the possibilities before shrugging her shoulders in defeat. “Alright,” She sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

You grinned and squealed excitedly, wrapping your arms around your half sister and squeezing her tight. “Thank you Di!” She laughed and rubbed your back before you pulled off her. “Oh, and Di… there’s one more thing.”

Diana tilted her head and gazed at you with fresh bewilderment. Looking around the museum to make sure no one was around to hear what you had to say, you leaned into the Amazon and whispered a confession you’d been keeping to yourself for the past month. 

————

Maxwell sat in the chair and frowned upon seeing his reflection in the mirror. “What can I do for you?” asked the stylist as she smacked her lips on a piece of gum. Max wasn’t sure if he could really bring himself to do this, until he remembered your words. This was ‘turning over a new leaf’-- a new start and fresh beginnings. 

“Uh, a trim please,” Maxwell requested before taking a shaky exhale. It was now or never, he just had to take the leap. “No, that’s not everything,” he sighed. “Could you perhaps take the blonde… out of my hair?” The question left his lips with an air of unsurity. Could one even do that? Take the colour out of hair?

“You want the colour stripped?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. Maxwell supposed that was one way of putting it.

“Yes, I do.” he confirmed.

The stylist processed Maxwell’s words for a moment before shrugging her shoulders. “As you wish.”

As the stylist wrapped Max’s shaggy golden locks into foil, he closed his eyes. He’d come so far since the whole dreamstone debacle. His whole life had been a rollercoaster of up and down events but now, finally, things were evening out for him -- in the best way possible. He’d fallen in love and secured his family and home. The only thing he was mildly worried about, was the issue with Black Gold. But he knew that he’d somehow figure it out, especially now that he had you by his side to help him.

He’d always seen himself as an independent man. He fought hard to be as successful. He escaped his hometown, his abusive father, he ran away from poverty and was discriminated against by upper class white businessmen who told him he could never amount to anything. He proved all of them wrong. Because now, he had everything he could ever want. He didn’t need stacks of money or material possessions when he had you and Alistair. Maybe he wasn’t as independent as he once thought he was. Maybe, just maybe, he liked the company of others. He liked having you and his son around.

In his fight for wealth and success, he’d lost everything that mattered the most. But most importantly, he had lost himself. Maxwell swore that he’d never let that happen again.

As the stylist removed the silver foil from his hair, Maxwell nervously anticipated the result. His once bottle blonde hair was now a chocolate brown colour, and it reminded him distinctly of his youth. Max couldn’t help but feel like he looked younger, and he wasn’t going to complain about that. 

He just hoped you liked it as much as he did.

————

“I just don’t understand why mommy is taking so long,” Alistair grumbled as he and Barbara waited outside the ladies restroom. “And why did auntie Diana have to go into the toilet with her?”

Barbara stifled a laugh. “You’re inpatient, just like your dad.”

Impatience must’ve run in the family because you were sitting on the toilet seat, tapping your food as anxiety flooded your body. You didn’t expect to be this nervous. You’d wanted a child for so long -- in fact, your whole life to be exact. But now that there was a chance of it actually happening, you were beyond terrified. Maybe it was the fact Maxwell didn’t know about your symptoms, but you knew better than to feel alone. You were never going to be alone.

“How long left?” you asked Diana, who checked her wristwatch. It was an antique from the early 1900’s, something very special and something she kept very close to her heart.

“It should be ready now.” she told you, handing you the stick you had just peed on.

“I don’t want to look.” you squirmed, covering your face with your hands.

“Wow,” Diana hummed, her jaw parting slightly when she took in the results. 

“Wh-- what is it?” you asked, nervously.

“You’re pregnant.”

————

When Maxwell came home, you were shocked to say the least. His brown hair was absolutely gorgeous, and it suited him better than you’d expected. The deep shade was identical to the colour in his sparkling eyes. Jokingly, he tossed his hair and you let out a laugh.

“I was right,” you giggled, running your fingers through his locks. “So handsome.”

“I love it daddy!” Alistair cheered.

“Thanks buddy,” Maxwell grinned. “I like it too.”

Taking a deep breath, you took Max’s hand and pulled him into the living room, shutting the door behind you. It was quiet in there -- the perfect place to tell Maxwell your news. It had been a nostalgic day, and even standing in the living room reminded you of the time Max first brought you home. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked you, slightly concerned. But your warm smile soon eased him. You felt the need to wrap your arms around him and envelop him into a hug. Max had taken a big step today, and you were proud of him, but now it was your moment. It was now or never.

Harnessing every ounce of confidence within you, you took his hands and looked him in the eye. “Max, I’m pregnant.”

Max’s brown eyes widened and he was completely lost for words. “I-- you-- you’re--”

“Yes.” you smiled, taking his hands and placing them on your stomach.

His shocked expression turned into an elated grin as he processed the good news. “You’re really--”

“I am.” you confirmed.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen Maxwell so happy in your life. He wrapped his arms around you and held you so tight, like he was afraid to let you go. He swore in that moment he would never leave you, or his growing family, ever again.

This was it for him.

This was the start of Maxwell Lorenzano’s new life.

————

THE END.

————

Author’s Note: “I won’t cry” she says while sobbing into her Google Docs document. Thank you all for reading I Believe In Love. It’s a story I have wanted to share with you since I saw WW84 in the theatre, and I just can’t believe it’s finally over. This fic will always have a special place in my heart. The themes and plot points mean so much to me, but not only that, I’ve had the most amazing feedback on this fic and I will honestly cherish that for the rest of my life. I poured my heart and soul into writing I Believe In Love and it honestly one of my biggest comforts. I want you all to know that an epilogue is coming and if you have any requests for these characters I have created, feel free to send them my way. I adore my Amazon Goddess!Reader and I would absolutely love to continue their story at some point in the future. If you’ve followed me on this journey over the past four months, all I can really say is thank you. I love you so so much.

————

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal  @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen  @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @ladyjenny19 @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077​ @dodgerandevans

I Believe In Love taglist: [in the replies!]

#maxwell lord #max lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ww84 #pedro pascal smut #ibil

[daltonacademia]

There’s A Time For Daring - 1

charlie dalton x fem!reader [post events of the movie]

word count: 1.7k

warning: allusions to sex / slight sexual harrassment? drinking, mentions of neil’s suicide, horrible parents 

Charlie couldn’t help but emit a low growl as his vomit-inducing, picture-perfect, high-society mother and father, whom he despised, prodded him towards the expansive front entrance of Nealson Preparatory School located in southern Vermont. His fuschia-lipped, cakey-faced mother, Cynthia Dalton, was a well-dressed, dignified housewife by day and charming socialite by night; she was particularly harsh as she trampled his pen-stained oxfords with her spearish kitten heels. His eyes shot daggers at the snow-strewn path below, a familiar fire burning in his core.

There were many things Charlie was tempted to furiously spit out at his parents, but instead, he managed to keep his jaw clamped shut, his pearly whites digging into the light pink of his lips hard enough to draw blood. No matter what he shouted, cried, pleaded, they wouldn’t budge. They never would. And it was infuriating.

“Charles! Being expelled from such a prestigious school is no laughing matter, young man. That school cost us quite the pretty penny! How dare you defy the rules to the extent of expulsion. It’s disgraceful, and I will tolerate it no longer!” Charlie’s mother shrieked, furious tears smudging the thick mascara that coated her eyelashes.

“You’ll be shipped off to Nealson Preparatory School in February, and if I hear so much as a single mention of your name not followed with overwhelming compliments, you can expect nasty, nasty consequences! Go pack your things, you’ll be staying with Aunt Barbara until the first of February finally arrives!” The rims of Charlie’s brown eyes stung with anger, frustration, and furthest down, sadness. He was diminished to nothing but an image-ruiner to his mother. The person who was supposed to love him, protect him, save him from the horrors of this hell called Earth.

Mr. Dalton silently observed the boisterous outburst from his expensive leather armchair across the den, a glass of strong, half-drunk whiskey in his palm. Charlie couldn’t bear to see their despicable faces any longer, and as his body felt no longer under his control, stomped up the stairs in a huff, rapidly swiping away the glassy tears spilling from his eyes. Thoughts of running away, escaping it all, flooded his unstable mind. ‘I get why you did it, Neil. I really do. But did you have to go so soon?’ 

But instead of lingering on the image of Neil any longer, he hastily threw his bare necessities into his suitcase, which was still covered in an array of Welton Academy stickers.

The grounds of Nealson were unsurprisingly well-maintained; it reminded him a lot of Welton. The impeccably manicured lawns, gleaming, icy blue lake, the gothic stone arches and pillars. It was eerily similar to Hellton, even down to the ice-cold blanket of snow coating the distant rolling hills. It’s beautiful, Charlie thought, surveying the slow sprinkling of snow, No, it’s hideous. 

Before he could fully vomit at the vile grounds of his new school, his parents fiercely shoved him inside the Headmaster’s dingy office, politely taking the vacant mahogany seats beside him. Charlie couldn’t be bothered to listen to a word his parents said with pearly white smiles, which were no doubt tooth-rotting, sugar-coated lies about the real reason he was expelled over a month prior. 

He knew that they couldn’t just be transparent and tell the Headmaster that he had socked the utterly vile Richard Cameron’s face in (rightfully so, in his opinion), or that he was a star member of the infamous Dead Poets Society, or that he had gone to the extreme lengths to stage a phone call from none other than God himself. It didn’t work like that. 

His mother’s cheeky, artificial voice sounded precisely the same as it always had: carefully rehearsed and slathered with naivety. Seemingly without hesitation, the catty woman could deflect any less-than-pleasant questions or insinuations about her “golden role-model” son, who’s admittedly “a little misguided at times”. 

The new headmaster seated across from him appeared to be around the same age as Mr. Nolan, which, as far as Charlie was concerned, was older than the Cretaceous period at least. His pale-as-a-ghost skin was wrinkled and paper-thin; his patchy, gelled side-swept hair was (very obviously) dyed a deep, midnight black, reminiscent of an off-brand Elvis. 

Charlie’s ears continued to mute the awkward conversation happening amongst him, his focus instead shifting around to the various awards and certificates lining the ivory walls. They all seemed so phony; ‘Best Headmaster- 1947-1959’, ‘Nealson Academy: Exceeds Expectations’. The Headmaster had even framed his high school superlative: ‘Voted Most Likely to Succeed’. What a pathetic-

In a swift blur, his parents rose from their seats, his mother clutching her magenta purse with matching pursed lips. Charlie was handed a hefty, stapled packet packed full of school rules and guidelines with a denture-toothed smile from Headmaster ‘Campbell’. This’d make some decent kindling, he thought as he yanked the packet from his clammy clutches, leafing through its pages with a smirk, this garbage’s almost laughable.

A syncopated rhythm of raps on the door, followed by a gravelly, ‘come in', presented his new dorm escort. His chauffeur just so happened to be you, the accomplished and universally admired student body president in the same grade as the newcomer. You were dutifully donning Nealson’s horrendous uniform: a crisp, white button-up accented with a blue and silver tie was topped with a depressing grey sweater vest. An equally loathsome pleated skirt concealed your thighs, and your ankles were shielded from the chilly February air with black crew socks. 

You extended your perfectly manicured, soft hand out to your brand-new peer with a yearbook-worthy smile, introducing, “Hi. Welcome to Nealson, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.” You swore you heard the brunette mutter something disrespectful under his breath, but nonetheless, he, rather unprofessionally, shook your hand with an eye roll. Things between the two of you were not starting off the way you hoped, but you were determined to make a good impression. The best impression possible.

“Charlie Dalton,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. The brunette standing in front of you reeked of cigarettes, and there was the slightest smell of cheap beer clinging to his clothes. His brown hair was messy, springing out in every direction, despite the water furiously combed through it. His eyes glinted with rebellion, a look so alluring yet dangerous.

“I’ll be showing you to your dorm, which you’ll sleep in for the remainder of the year.” Since Dalton was starting in February, he only had five months of studying before long-awaited senior year. Mr. Campbell waved the two of you off, and with that, you trekked towards the Boys’ wing, Dalton sauntering at your side. 

The walk through the main corridor was silent and awkward. You had tried to enchant him with fun facts about Nealson and its (extensively selective) history, much to his obvious boredom and dismay. His umber eyes glazed the walls, uninterested in the decor. His mind seemed to be elsewhere, but for all you knew, it could be on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. 

After a while of treading through the high-ceilinged corridors illuminated with fleeting pale rays of sunlight, the boy next to you made no attempt to hide him drawing designs up and down your body. 

“I’ve never been to a school with both boys and girls,” he drawled with a smirk. “Do things ever get exciting around here?”

You shook your head no while indiscreetly tugging down the hem of your skirt uncomfortably, and he said, “Do you think you’d maybe wanna spend the night with me in my dorm? Make sure I’m all settled in?”

Your whole body, from head to toe, froze. The audacity of this… creep! Your tongue poked, nearly stabbed, the back of your teeth, wanting to unleash a select few words to the disgusting Dalton beside you. But alas, if he were to tell anyone of your fiery wrath, you’d be demoted from class president faster than you could explain what really happened. It’s a corrupt system, sure, but even with the power that comes with such a title, there was no way to mend it.

Eventually, while you were wrapped up in the furies of your mind, Dalton revealed a small, autographed golf ball from his trousers pocket and began throwing it up and down above his head casually with every step. 

“Can you not?” you snapped at the chestnut-haired boy after he tossed the sphere up and down again in an arch. “Don’t wanna get in trouble on your first day, do you?”  

“You think this’ll get me in trouble? Have a little fun, it won’t kill you. I promise.” Dalton turned his gaze towards you, an annoyed but smug grin painted on his lips. He slowly tossed the golf ball to your hands, intending for you to catch it. However, the small ball evaded your grasp, instead bouncing around the hardwood floors below you, creating a series of loud, reverberating thunks.

“You were supposed to catch it, you know,” Dalton teased, nonchalantly watching you chase after the rogue orb. After it was finally safe in your clutches, you stomped over to the no-good newbie, irritated. 

“Nealson’s strict. They don’t let stuff like creating an awful lot of racket go unreprimanded.” You were seething; red-hot blood pumped through your veins. Dalton didn’t look anything but utterly amused.

“Wow, you’re just about one of the biggest suck-ups I’ve seen in a while.”

“A what?” you growled.

“A suck-up. A rule-following poster child of excellence? A bratty, know-it-all? Anything along those lines?” He sputtered insults so nonchalantly, it made your blood boil and eyes sting.

“You better watch it, Dalton. I don’t know who you think you are-”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to this school, by the looks of it.” 

You had nothing left to say to this conceited shuck of a boy who really thought that he was all that and a side of fries. Well he wasn’t! Not in the slightest! And if his first day of classes wouldn’t drill it into him, you would.

The rest of the walk was pin-drop silent and tense. No more fun facts about Nealson escaped your downturned lips, just the light patting of his beat-up oxfords and your pristine mary-janes on the polished wood floor. The hallways seemed more depressing than usual, their framed portraits and condensated windows didn’t fill you with the motivation that you came to expect.

After finally arriving at the boys’ dormitories, you grumbled, “well, this is it. Have a swell life, Dalton.”

“Right back at ya, Y/L/N. Let’s hope this isn’t the last time we meet.” He gave you a cheeky wink before slamming the door in your face.

#dead poets society #Dead Poets Society (1989) #dead poetry #dead poets society x reader #dead poets society quotes #DPS #dps fanfiction #charlie dalton x reader #charlie dalton x y/n #charlie dalton

[swampythesweetsketch]

I NEVER POSTED CANDYCE???

WELL HERE SHE IS!!!!!

PIC INDEX Android form | Android w/ hoodie casual | Human w/ hoodie casual S3 Co-Host Dress | Movie!Verse casual | Movie!Verse Ninja Gi Lego Style | Prime Empire Avatar(?)

Candyce "Candy" Wrapper

Only her friends/partners can call her Candy

She/They Genderfluid

Android (main!verse and movie!verse), prefers human disguise

Bleach blonde hair w/ brown undertones (dyed)

Whitish-pink hair in android form (and movie!verse)

Pink eyes under large blue glasses.

Rarely found without her hoodie

CANON!VERSE OC FANON

Popped up around Season 4.

Was built for an android focus group to study android integration into Ninjago.

Grew up with her family in a bakery/chocolate shop. Mom ran Chocolate | Dad ran Bakery

Unknowingly hung out with Cole before the team got back together for the Tournament of Elements. They stopped hanging out when he moved to Lumbering.

First job away from the family business was managing tapes for a TV studio.

Got roped in as Jay's co-host for his TV show.

Got a crush on him and asked him out on a date. He never showed, instead went off to the ToE.

(SHIPPING ROUTE) Jay returns after the Tournament and apologizes to Candyce. They retry their first date and Jay moves on from Nya.

(CANON ROUTE)

Candyce is ghosted after Jay goes to the Tournament and is heartbroken by the end/new beginning of Season 6, seeing Jay and Nya get back together on live television.

She moves on (kinda) and returns to her family's business.

Then leaves again as Morro is resummoned to Ninjago to hunt down Clouse (still wanted since he couldn't release Nadakhan again).

Teams up with Morro, Echo (Zane), and Skylor to hunt down Clouse and stop him from performing a time-reversal spell. Which may or may not bring them back to before Jay left for the Tournament of Elements, wink wink.

MOVIE!VERSE OC FANON

Daughter to Corporate robotics owner Elizabeth Wrapper and Alexander Julien.

Not to be mistaken with Dr. Bruno Julien, Zane and Echo's father.

Built by her mother to test the limits of "love". -Destroyed/Dismantled on a regular basis by her mother. -Disturbs her father when she happily thanks him for putting her back together without a hint of agony.

Goes to the same school as the Dork Squad (The Secret Ninja Force).

Friend group is called The Robos, since the group is comprised of androids: -Pixal -Echo (Echo Zane) -Latte (Robot Manager from Wu's Tes) -Cero (Cryptor) -Minnie (Min-Droid) -And Adim (Admin Droid from Prime Empire)

The exceptions to the group are Morro and Skylor, who are human.

They try to include Zane in their group, but Zane is too scared to admit he's not a "normal teenage boy".

Nice to Lloyd despite knowing he's the City's black sheep. She's not programmed to be spiteful to anyone.

The Pink Ninja of Heart -Not to be mistaken as the Fuscia Ninja of Surprise. -Can bring humanoid objects to life -Can slightly affect people's emotions (love potion #9?) -Summons a stupidly huge heart patterned battle-ax

Back up ninja team with: Morro, The Mint Ninja of Wind Echo, The Bronze Ninja of Time and Skylor, The Orange Ninja of Amber

Still crushes on Jay, majorly.

Leaves scented love letters in Jay's locker for him to find.

Friends don't have the heart to tell her she's been putting them in Kai's locker the whole time. Whoops.

#ninjago #oc #Candyce Wrapper #ninjago oc #lego ninjago #lego ninjago movie

[wh0re-4-techno]

6. PARTY ((PROFESSOR TECHNO))

Description: Going to a party that Tommy told you about. Hopefully this will distract you from that kiss.

Warning(s): Drinking, that's about it. (Remember this is an AU where everyone is aged up so they're legally allowed to drink, don't be underage and drink!)

Words: 4396

Last part :: Next part

It's been a day, a single damn day since you've seen your Professor. A day since you've kissed him. How could you just walk into class on Thursday and act like nothing happened on between both of you.

But to no avail, there was no time to think about him, scrolling through your closet you couldn't find an outfit to wear.

"Hey, do you have anything I can wear?" You shout to Minx, still looking through your closet. It was becoming more frustrating to try to find something. "Maybe, just look through my closet." She tells you while putting on her eyeliner. "You should hurry up, I don't wanna be late for this party." You scroff at her while going to her closet.

Minx wore a black slip dress that flattered her body perfectly, you where slightly jealous of her and her looks. Wishing you could pull that dress off like she could.

Opening her closet doors, as soon as you rack through her clothes your eyes get fixated on a certain dress she had in the back, it was quite lovie.

As you pull it out, it was short. It had a 70's floral design, the sleeve flare out, and it was a low cut. This dress and some white heels would be gorgeous. But knowing this was a collage party, you shouldn't wear hears or white.

Minx looks over at you as she puts her mascara on, seeing as you picked that dress. "Oh that would look so cute on you, wear that." She throws her hands, basically tell you to put it on. You turn towards your side on the room and change into it. It fit like a damn glove. It was smooth and airy. And wasn't short enough that your ass was hanging out, it was perfect.

You quickly pull out your makeup and swiftly take your eyeliner out. Doing a rushed long wing look with red lipstick that matched the flowers on your dress. "Who was it that told you about this party?" Minx is putting on her shoes while asking you. "Um Tommy." You can't really focus on what she was asking as you're putting on false lashes. "Is that the brown haired one?" She questions while standing up.

Shoving back your makeup in it's container you tell her, "No its the blonde one." You go to your closet to get your party shoes, they were basically shoes that where messy with drink stains and you didn't mind to get them dirty.

Taking them out with a pair of socks, you put them on. Minx is already grabbing the keys and her phone. Ready to go. 

You rush yourself up with your keys and phone. Both of you out of the door and running down the stairs. "Tommy texted me the address, so I'll drive." You tell Minx while opening the main doors to your dorm. "Then just tell me the directions to the house." She walks beside you, "No it's my car we're talkin. I'm fucken driving." You bite down on your teeth, giving Minx a glare. She knew how protective you were over your car. She didn't exactly know why, but she didn't want to continue the small argument. "Fine." Heading to the parking lot to your car.

The both of you hustle in your car, she goes to the passenger seat while you turn on the car.

"Okay tell me where to go." You hand her your phone, the address was on google maps. "What time is it?" You ask while pulling out of the school lot and making it on the main road. "It's already past 10." She says while looking down at the directions. "Fuck were already late." She tells you to take a left. "Everyone shows up late and think it's going to be fun."

-----

You slowly pull up to a frat house that was 7 block away from the campus. You could've walked if you wanted, but it already being dark it wasn't safe for you and Minx to be stumbling in the streets.

Looking for somewhere to park your car, you search and see that a house down you could park.

Both of you step out of the car, you turn it off with a beep. You pull out your phone as you meet Minx on the side walk, the two of you walk towards the frat house. Music blasting, even from outside you could hear them.

Y/n to Tommy:

Hey I just got here. Where u at?

Stepping through the lawn you already see a bunch of people hang outside with the classic red solo cups as they wandered around. Looking back down at your phone as Tommy messaged you back,

Tommy to Y/n:

I'm inside the kitchen with Toby

You turn off your phone as you make it to the door, Minx opens it for you.

As soon as the door opens you could smell the alcohol, almost taste. You hold onto Minx's arm as you two navigate through the party. "Tommy's in the kitchen." You have to speak loudly to Minx so she could hear you over the music and the other people taking. The house was packed to the brim.

Walking through, the floor was sticky from the drinks that spilled before hand. Passing through you watch as multiple people making out. Seeing that just made you think of Techno, you shouldn't be thinking of your teacher at a damn house party. You should be getting drunk and make out with a random person.

Making your way into the kitchen you see Tommy and Toby. Toby cheering on Tommy as he has a beer, presuming that he and this other fellow are shot gunning beers.

Tommy slams down the beer can, while yelling out victoriously. Toby pats Tommy on the back as he jumps up and down with excitement and probably being tipsy. But once he spots you he shouts, "Y/n com' here! Did you see that!" He yells in your face, which you have to cringe at how loud he was. He reaches out his arms for a hug which you happily took and hugged him back. You do the same with Toby. "So, how's the party going?" You ask Toby, who seems more sober then Tommy at the moment. "Really good! More people showed up the expected!" He smiles at you, "Do you want a drink?" He offers you, seeing as you didn't have a cup in your or Minx's hand.

Minx in the meantime is saying greetings Tommy, she laughs at what he's saying. Which is probably drunken rambling.

"Yeah. Whatcha got?" You look around the kitchen countertops. Seeing vodka to hard lemonade. Toby waves his arm across the countertop, "Literally anything you want we have." You think for a bit as you scan through the vast majority of drinks. "You know, I'll start off with a shot." You lean into Toby as it was becoming harder to hear as Tommy is shouting again about something, you weren't paying to much attention on him.

You feel someone slam the back of your back, not hard but it made you turn towards who was doing it. "That's what I'm talking about!" It was Wilbur, arm flung over your shoulder and in his other hand was a beer. "How long you've been here?" He asks, Toby is pouring multiple shots in colorful plastic. "Just arrived!" Minx answers for the both of you, she is now besides you, seeing that shots were being pour she asks if she could have one. Which Toby happily agrees with.

"You want one Wilbur?" Toby asks, handing out the shots to you and Minx. Wilbur shakes his head, saying no to them. Toby shrugs while taking one for himself. Wilbur removes his arm from your shoulder. "Ready! One, two, three-" Wilbur counts down for us.

Once he reaches three you put the plastic shot glass to your lips and swallowing the liquor. It burned down your throat, letting out a curse.

Minx shoots her eyes open, "Another?" She asks you and Toby. Toby seems on board, but you decline. You wanted to experience this party before becoming shit faced. "I'll grab a beer." You reach for a Bud Light. "Weak." Tommy snaps, he's behind you and throws his arm over to you.

Turning towards the tall drunken blonde. He rests his arm on your shoulder, just like Wilbur was doing moments ago. "I have some friends you should meet!" He yells while laughing, "Yeah?" He drinks from another beer can, of this poor boy going to have a terrible headache tomorrow morning.

"Totally!" His hand drops goes down your arm and takes a hold of your hand. He walks to you thorough the crowd of people whom all had a drink and dancing. You weren't quite sure if he was taking you out to dance or bring you to someone. Or if he even knew where to take you in the first place.

The music that was playing was some Michael Jackson you could get your groove on, you just wanted to dance with the crowed. But Tommy kept pulling you through the dance floor, so you where sure he was going to bring you to someone to meet. 

You reach the stairs that lead up the the second story, and that was by tht front door. But seeing as there was a group of people blocking it, believing that the person he was bringing you too was upstairs, but Tommy stops. "This is my friend Alex!" He sloppily says while getting a man's attention, who must be Alex. He has black hair that was tucked into a beanie, strange to have a beanie inside but you didn't question him upon it. "Alex this is Y/n!" Alex sticks his free hand for you the shake, which you do as Tommy takes a sip of his drink.

"I should bring Minx to meet you! She's gorgeous!" He tells Alex who nods his head to Tommy. Which he lets go of your hand and is running back to the kitchen to grab Minx.

"Sorry for my him. He gets really fucked at party's." Alex apologizes for Tommy's sake. "No it's fine, he's like this in class too." You chuckle at your own comment. "That's true. What class do you have together?" He asks while drinking from his drink, which was also a Bud Light. "History class. That boy can not shut up!" Both of you laugh.

He leans back to someone, "This is my friend Floris." He leans back to you, introducing you to another guy. He was tall with light brown hair, he also sticked out his arm to shake a welcome. You step up the stairs. "You can call me Fundy, everyone does." You mentally make a note of what he said.

You look up to see someone come down the stairs, his hair was a brown and he wore a multicolored sweater. He also had a goofy smile with his cheeks flushed with pink. Damn was he cute.

Alex taked notice that you were staring at something or even someone so he glances back. And beholds that it was one of his closest friends. "Y/n this is Karl!" He says with excitement, as Karl makes his way down Alex throws his arm around his shoulder. "Hi, my name is Karl- but he just told you that! Its nice to meet you Y/n." He chuckles at his little mix up, which you giggle at as well. You hold out your hand to shake his, he slight squeezed your hand once meeting.

"So, how long have you guys known Tommy?" You ask them while retracting you hand. Taking you swing of your beer. The music starts to muffle as it changes to the next song, which was softer. "I meet him through Wilbur." Fundy says, "He's in one of my classes too, English." Alex adds, the four of you turn back of the sound of Tommy's laugh, and before Karl could tell you how he knew the blonde boy.

Watching as he stumbles up at you with Minx in his hand, she gives you a small wave with her solo cup hand. The other still connected with Tommy's hand. "This is Minx everyone!" He shouts at us. "Hi I'm Alex." Alex greets her and so does Fundy, telling her the same thing he told you. Karl does a wave to greet her, as he was to up on the stair to shake her hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all." She flashes a smile to the three guys. "Y/n wanna dance?" She asks after smiling to the boys, but before you could answer Alex takes this opportunity into his own hands. "I would love to dance with you!" He makes his move, rushes past you. Minx just looks over Alex, conflicted as she asked you to dance but not some boy she didn't even know. But thinks for a few seconds as he quietly stands there waiting for her response. Praying that she would say yes. "Okay." He makes a fist, quietly say "Yes!" As he was proud of himself.

Before they head to the dance floor she turns to you, "I told you this was going to be fun!" You nod her off as she starts dancing to the music with Alex.

Going back to Tommy, Fundy, and Karl as they talk, Tommy is rather talking really loud as he couldn't hear himself. Fundy seems fine with him, patiently waiting for Tommy to complete his sentence. Karl has a questionable face as he's trying to figure out what he saying. "Y/n I have more people for you to meet!" Tommy looks over to you. You look at Fundy and Karl who gives off a sympathetic smile to you. Knowing that Tommy would be dragging you around this whole house. Surprisingly he knew a lot of people here. "See you later Fundy and Karl!" You say your good byes rather quickly.

He takes your hand again, you take another sip of your beer. This was going to be a long night if you don't get drunk quickly.

He's walking through the place, randomly pointing to people and telling you their name. Most of them you wouldn't remember tomorrow. But he spots someone important, "Meet my other friends, that's Clay!" He points to the guy who on the couch who wore a green hoodie, "And that's George." He slowly says, the other guy who was wearing a blue Tee-shirt whom started kissing Clay. "They seem nice." You simply say, turn back to Tommy who is giggling. "They are, you should talk to them after their lil situation" You nod to him. "Anyone else you want me to meet while where at it?" You ask him, he thinks for a moment.

"Yes! I have a friend named Nick. He's kind of mean, but very nice. Well next to you.." He loosely hangs onto you, his complement made him serious. It was really fun to see him like this. "Um- Let's find him!" He pulls you back.

Both of you walking for what seems like ages, you beer was coming to a close end. Tommy leads you to the kitchen once again, where he shouts out, "NICK!" He throws his hands up. The guy turned towards who said his name. Nick wore a grey sweatshirt. He was also next to Wilbur, they seemed to be having a conversation before Tommy abruptly ended it. "You HAVE to meet my good friend Y/n!" He emphasizes "have" which makes you giggle.

You walk towards Nick and greet him. His hands where in his pocket, he seemed a little shy. But Wilbur was there to refer to you, "She's cool." He says confidently, it does help Nick. "It's nice to meet you." You lean back into the kitchen island.

Tommy's cheeks were becoming pinker by the minute, the alcohol really getting to him.

"Did you meet Alex yet? Because he's dancing with Minx." Wilbur asks, pointing to them with his drink in hand. It was sweet that he was slightly concerned if you knew him yet, but as you look to the dance floor, aka the living room. Minx and Alex where jamming out together. "Yeah I just met him, he seem cool." You shrug off, "What're drinking?" You ask him. He gestures with his cup, "Oh some vodka with cranberry juice!"

You stare up at him, "Where the hell did you get cranberry juice?" You chuckle at him, which he joins in. "In the fridge of course. Do you want some?" You shake your head as a yes.

Looking back to Nick as Wilbur goes off to make you your drink. "How do you know Wilbur and Tommy?" He takes a sip of the beer he had in his hand. "In class. Tommy's in my English and Wilbur's in my technology class." He explains to you. His voice was very calm compared to the loudness of the party. "How do you know them?" He asks drinking out of his cup, Wilbur hands you your drink. He made that rather quickly. "Well Tommy, Wilbur, and Toby are in my History class. You know Toby right?" You have to tell to Nick as the music starts to get louder. But he nods a he's to your question.

The iconic song "September" by Earth, Wind & Fire starts play and the crowds starts going wild, singing the lyrics to the song.

Seeing as everyone was headed to the dance floor you ask, "Wanna go dancing?" The two men, who look at each other, then back at you with a smiles. Wilbur starts dancing his way to the living room and Nick soon follows you.

While in the living room you start mumbling out the lyrics as everyone one else does the same. Making your way to Minx who's more of the center of it all. She seems to be having a great time with Alex as they dance together and laughing as Alex holds his beer bottle as a microphone. Singing from his heart. But as she sees you she lets out a little yelp of excitement.

Soon all of you are singing to the song and having a blast. Normally you wouldn't have the energy to go out there dance, but as the alcohol takes over your nerves and that there were a lot of people there. It didn't seem to bother you. No one was watching you dance.

Looking out you see Tommy and Toby dancing together and singing their hearts out. It was a sight to be seen. Then watching Wilbur with a girl, who must of been his girlfriend he showed you last week. Karl and Alex are jamming out together as well.

They all had huge grin on their face, "DANCING IN SEPTEMBER!" The sea of drunken college students shout out into the crowd with little to no care, minx and you start jumping to the beat. Singing to each other. Our singing, along with everyone's is poor, but that didn't matter at the moment or to anyone.

But as the song comes to an end less people are singing it and starts to die down. The new song playing had a quick beat. Making people move their feet with the same fastness. You mouth out the words as you get closer with Minx, who is doing the same towards you.

Both of you bob your head to the music that was playing right in your ears.

As you dance your eyes keep looking over to Karl, who was dancing with Alex. They did seem like really good friends. But as you stare at them, Alex, of course looks over for second and seeing that you couldn't look away from Karl he made a plan. Getting closer to Karl to whisper something, you turn away quickly.

"I think Alex and Karl are coming over here!" You whispered yell at Minx, she turns to where the two guy used to be, but seeing them dance their way over to you.

"Evening ladies." Alex trys his hardest to say smoothly, which didn't really work for you, but Minx seems entertained. It might been the liquor, but she was digging this Alex dude.

For you Karl gestures for you to follow him, you walk with his hesitant at first but you two head to the couches.

You actually needed some time to relax after Tommy made to go through the whole damn frat house. "I know Tommy through Alex." Slightly confused at first, but realizing he was picking up the conversation you had at the stairs. "You and Alex are close?" It was a dumb question to ask, but seeing as his face light up was really cute. Definitely the alcohol speaking now, it was getting harder to focus too. "Yes! We've know eachother for years, he's like my best friend." Both of you watch as Alex and Minx dance together, it was a little funny watching them, they were probably hitting close to being drunken at that point.

"You're a good dance by the way!" He adds leaning back into the couch. You thank him for his complement. Both of you sit in silence, just staring off that the crowd.

He suddenly stands from the couch, "I'm getting a new drink. Anything I could get you?" He ask, slowly taking steps to the kitchen. "Another vodka cranberry please!" You shout to him.

While waiting for Karl to come back another man sits down next to you, he seems out of it. But as you look over to him you ask, "You're Clay right?" The man in the green sweatshirt looks at you confused for a couple of seconds before you clarify. "Tommy pointed you out." He has an 'oh' realization. "We didn't want to interrupt you and your boyfriend." Your drunken mind speaks before thinking. He has a second 'oh' reaction.

He runs his hand over hIs face sloppily, "Wait how do you know Tommy?" He lazily throws his head back. "He's in a class with me." It was becoming more annoying to tell everyone the same thing over and over again. And it was werid that they all knew who Tommy was.

More time passed as another song played, still waiting on Karl to get back - and speaking of the devil he appears from the crowd with two drinks in hand. But spotting Clay half passes out where he sat before him, it wasn't the best situation. He hand you your drink before saying, "Clay's already out? Fundy owes me 20 buck." He chuckles while whipping out his phone from his back pocket. "How the hell does everyone know each other?" You take a large gulp of your drink. The vodka going right through you body, making you relax.

"I don't really know?" He shrugs off with a giggle.

This couch becoming incredibly more comfortable. Starting to close your eyes as the music roared over.

-----

You abruptly wake up, quickly looking around to see where you were. This wasn't your bed, but this wasn't even a bedroom.

This was your car.

"Holy fuck..." You breath out, glad you woke up in your car and not some random persons bed. And lucky as you look back to see if anyone else was in your card you see Minx. She had a coat over her that she wasn't wearing before walking in the party.

Turning back to the front, your eyes landing on what time it was. "11:26 a.m." Good that it wasn't past noon, but still surprised that no one ever tried to wake you up.

You look for you keys, which sat on your glove box. You turn in your car.

It was time to get back to the dorms and sleep this hangover in a comfortable bed, well how comfortable a dorm bed could be.

Your mind was foggy when I came to remembering what the hell happened last night, all you remember was talking to Karl before passing out on the couch. He must of moved you to the car at some point. Then you hear your phone ringing, why was it so damn loud? Squeezing your temple with your index and middle finger as your head rang from your phone.

Your hands search for the phone and grab it. It read out "Karl". You got his number last night? When?

You pick it up, "Good morning, did you wake up in your car?" He ask, well that kinda explains your situation. "Yeah, why?" You still ask to confirm your suspicions that he put you in your car. "Well last night you couldn't even walk straight and you never told me what dorm you lived in so that was my next best option. And I didn't want you to wake up in my bed and think that we did anything-" He rambles on, "Thank you." You stop him. "That was really kind of you." Driving out on the road, waking up Minx. Hearing her groan in confusion as to where she was. But as soon as she sees you she leans back down. "Why are we in your car?" She ask in a low tone, clearly still tired. You pull away from your phone. "I don't remember, but I'm glad none of us went drunk driving." She nods back as you continue to drive back to campus.

Putting your phone back to your ear, "Sorry Minx just woke up." You could hear him "oh" in the background. "Um who's coat is with her? Because she didn't have one when we came to the party." You turn in your parking lot. Your head pounding. "That's Alex's. I'll send you his number for her to return it." He quickly says. "Thanks again Karl. But I just got to my dorm so I'm going to pass out for the next few hours." You simple say while turning off your car.

"Good night Y/n." He says with a chuckle, which made you giggle a little. "Night." Ending the call you look back at Minx, who had a stupid grin plastered on her face. You question her on why, "Oh nothing..." She opens the door to get out. That cheek son of a bitch.

"And who was that?" You step out of your car. "No one." You could deal with Minx's little teasing about you and this guy. "Sure." She emphasizes the word.

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