#the managers black dress with blue highlight returns!

[rafedarling]

queen have u seen the new photos of Drew. 🤭🤭

dad!Drew x reader where like it’s the blue suit red carpet and the whole family is in italy together and reader thinks drew looks so yummy so it’s like smut where they get back to the hotel and they have to be quiet AF

yass girl and not gonna lie, he looks fucking hot !

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐲

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader summary: at the venice film festival 2024, drew and you, both acclaimed actors, make a stunning appearance on the red carpet for the premiere of the new movie, ‘queer’. your two-year-old twin daughters, ophelia and olympia, accompany you and drew, captivating everyone with their sweet presence. after the event, the starkey returns to their luxurious hotel suite, where, after putting the girls to bed, you and drew indulges in a passionate, intimate moment, trying to keep quiet as your daughters sleeping in the room next door. | word count: 2,8k warning(s): english is not my native language. 18+, smut, piv, creampie, cum play, sexual content, language, MINOR DNI!!

au: fill this form if you want to be tag. like, reblog & reply or much appreciated! tagging: @rafeyslamb

As the sun was setting over Venice, casting the city in a warm, golden glow as you and Drew Starkey arrived at the Venice Film Festival. The air buzzed with excitement as stars from around the world gathered to celebrate the premiere of QUEER, a film that had garnered significant attention for its bold storytelling and representation. Tonight, you and Drew were not just co-stars but partners, sharing the spotlight with your two-year-old twin daughters, Ophelia and Olympia.

As you stepped onto the red carpet, the cameras flashed, capturing the perfect image of a beautiful family. Drew looked stunning in a deep navy suit, the black lapels adding a sharp contrast that highlighted his chiseled features. His hair was styled just so, a little tousled, giving him an effortlessly handsome look. You wore a flowing, elegant gown that complemented Drew’s suit perfectly, the fabric shimmering under the lights as you walked hand in hand.

Ophelia and Olympia were dressed in matching white dresses, their blonde curls bouncing with every step as they clung to your hands, their little faces a mixture of awe and curiosity. They had been to events before, but nothing quite like this. The sheer scale of the festival, the grandeur of the venue, and the attention from the media were overwhelming for anyone, let alone two toddlers. Yet, they handled it with the grace of seasoned professionals, waving shyly at the cameras, their innocent smiles melting the hearts of everyone watching.

As you posed for photos, Drew leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You look incredible tonight,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You smiled, feeling a rush of affection for him. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, glancing at him from beneath your lashes. “But I think the girls are stealing the show.”

Drew chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at Ophelia and Olympia. “They are, aren’t they? Just like their mom—beautiful and captivating.”

The interviews followed, and as usual, Drew handled the press with charm and ease. The reporters were eager to hear about your experiences on set, the dynamics of working together as a couple, and of course, how you managed to balance your careers with raising your daughters. Drew’s answers were thoughtful and sincere, emphasizing how much he valued the time spent with his family, both on and off the set.

“They’re the reason I do this,” he said, glancing at you and the girls with a smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Having them here with me tonight makes it all the more special.”

The night continued with more photos, more interviews, and a palpable sense of anticipation for the premiere. But as much as you enjoyed the spotlight, the most important part of the evening was the shared experience with Drew and your daughters. You could see the pride in Drew’s eyes every time he looked at you or the girls, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you had been on together.

After the screening of QUEER, which was met with a standing ovation, the four of you were whisked back to your hotel in a sleek black car. The night air was cool and refreshing, a welcome contrast to the heat of the cameras and the lights of the red carpet. Ophelia and Olympia, who had been little stars all evening, were starting to show signs of fatigue. Their little eyes drooped, and they leaned heavily against you and Drew, their tiny bodies growing limp with exhaustion.

Back at the hotel, you and Drew worked together to get the girls ready for bed. The suite was spacious and luxurious, with a separate bedroom for the twins. After helping them out of their dresses and into their pajamas, you read them a story, your voice soft and soothing as they snuggled into their beds. Drew sat beside you, one arm draped around your shoulders, his other hand gently stroking Olympia’s hair as her eyes slowly closed.

Ophelia was the first to fall asleep, her hand clutching her favorite stuffed bunny. Olympia held out a little longer, her eyes fluttering open and closed until finally, she gave in to sleep. You and Drew sat there for a moment longer, watching your daughters’ peaceful faces, their soft breathing filling the room with a sense of calm.

Finally, you and Drew quietly left the room, closing the door behind you with a gentle click. The suite was silent, the only sounds the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint noise of the city outside. You leaned against the door, your eyes meeting Drew’s across the room.

“They were amazing tonight,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

Drew walked over to you, his gaze intense as he cupped your face in his hands. “They take after their mother,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “You were incredible too. I’m so proud of you.”

You felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks at his words. “Thank you,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Drew’s eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in, his lips hovering just above yours. “We finally have some time to ourselves,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “What do you want to do?”

A shiver of anticipation ran down your spine at the implication in his tone. You slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. “I can think of a few things,” you replied, your voice breathless as you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

Drew responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours as he pressed you against the door. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the intense need that was building between you. His hands roamed your body, expertly undoing the zipper of your dress and letting it fall to the floor in a soft rustle of fabric.

You broke the kiss just long enough to help him out of his jacket and shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you undid the buttons. Drew’s hands found your waist, pulling you close as he kissed you again, more urgently this time, his need for you growing with every passing second.

He backed you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body as he guided you onto the soft mattress. The cool sheets contrasted with the heat of his skin as he hovered above you, his gaze raking over your body with a look of pure adoration.

“You’re so beautiful,” Drew whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he kissed a trail down your neck, his lips leaving a burning path on your skin. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You arched into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair as he continued his descent, his mouth hot against your collarbone. “Drew...” you moaned softly, your voice trembling with need as you felt him reach for the clasp of your bra, expertly undoing it and tossing it aside.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours as he gently cupped your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, making you gasp. Drew smiled at your reaction, clearly pleased with himself as he dipped his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

Your back arched off the bed at the sensation, a moan escaping your lips as you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, every nerve in your body on high alert as Drew lavished attention on your breasts, his hands and mouth working in perfect harmony to drive you wild.

After what felt like an eternity of blissful torment, Drew continued his journey downward, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach, his hands guiding your hips as he slowly pulled your panties down, leaving you completely exposed to him. He paused for a moment, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of you, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as he gently spread your legs, positioning himself between them.

You bit your lip, anticipation building as you felt the heat of his breath against your most sensitive area. “Drew, please...” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.

He didn’t make you wait any longer. With a low growl of desire, he dipped his head, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you, your hips bucking involuntarily as you moaned his name. Drew’s hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to pleasure you, his tongue and lips working together to drive you closer and closer to the edge.

You clung to the sheets, your body trembling with the intensity of the sensations as Drew brought you to the brink of ecstasy. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours as he inserted a finger inside you, the sensation of his long, skilled fingers pushing you over the edge.

You cried out, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm as Drew continued to work you through it, his fingers and mouth never stopping until you were completely spent, your body going limp with exhaustion.

Drew climbed back up your body, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss as he positioned himself at your entrance. You were still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but the feel of him so close, so ready, reignited the fire inside you.

You wrapped your legs around Drew’s waist, pulling him closer as he hovered above you, his breath warm and ragged against your lips. His eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of love, desire, and admiration swirling within them. He held himself there, just at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, unable to find the words as anticipation coursed through your veins. The look in his eyes was enough to send another shiver of pleasure down your spine. You could feel him, hot and hard, pressing against you, and the need to have him inside you was almost unbearable.

“Please,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need. “I need you, Drew.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a slow, deliberate movement, Drew pushed forward, filling you inch by inch. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect blend of pleasure and pressure as he stretched you, your bodies fitting together like they were made for each other. You both moaned as he entered you fully, the feeling of him deep inside you almost overwhelming.

Drew paused, his forehead resting against yours as he took a moment to savor the sensation, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“So do you,” you replied breathlessly, your hands gripping his shoulders as you adjusted to the feel of him inside you. The connection between you was palpable, an unspoken bond that had only deepened over time. Every touch, every movement felt like a promise, a testament to the love you shared.

Drew started to move, slow and steady at first, his thrusts deep and measured. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure through your body, building a delicious tension that made you gasp and cling to him even tighter. His hands roamed your body, one settling on your hip to guide your movements, the other brushing the hair away from your face as he kissed you deeply.

The kiss was passionate, filled with the kind of raw, unfiltered emotion that only came from years of love and trust. You could feel the intensity of his feelings in the way he kissed you, in the way he held you close as if you were the most precious thing in the world. It was more than just physical; it was a connection of souls, a merging of hearts.

As Drew’s thrusts became more urgent, the pace quickened, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of another orgasm. He seemed to sense it too, his movements becoming more purposeful, his hand slipping between your bodies to find that sensitive bundle of nerves that he knew would push you over the edge.

When he touched you there, the sensation was electric, your body responding instantly as pleasure exploded within you. You cried out his name in silece, your back arching off the bed as the orgasm ripped through you, your body trembling with the force of it. Drew didn’t stop, his movements relentless as he continued to drive into you, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

Finally, with a few more powerful thrusts, Drew followed you over the edge, his own release coming with a guttural groan as he buried himself deep inside you. You could feel the warmth of his release, the pulsing of his body against yours as he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving with exertion.

For a moment, the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, both of you trying to catch your breath as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through your bodies. The room was filled with the sounds of your breathing, mingling together in the stillness of the night.

Drew finally lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft and filled with love. He reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his thumb grazing your cheek as he smiled down at you. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

You smiled back at him, your heart swelling with love. “I love you, Drew” you replied, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. “I love you, Drew.”

“I love you too,” he whispered back, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was a kiss filled with all the love and affection he couldn’t put into words, a promise that he would always be there for you, no matter what.

He rolled over, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest, your legs still entwined. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that lulled you into a state of contentment. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go.

The two of you lay there in silence for a while, simply enjoying the closeness, the feel of each other’s bodies pressed together. The world outside might have been filled with the glitz and glamour of the festival, but in that moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s love.

Eventually, Drew shifted slightly, his hand running up and down your back in a soothing motion. “We should probably get some sleep,” he murmured, though there was a note of reluctance in his voice. “The girls will be up early.”

You chuckled softly, knowing he was right. As much as you wanted to stay in this moment forever, the responsibilities of parenthood would call soon enough. “Yeah,” you agreed, though you made no move to get up just yet.

Drew smiled, tightening his hold on you. “We’ll have plenty of nights like this,” he promised, his voice filled with certainty. “Plenty of moments where it’s just you and me.”

You nodded, feeling a warm sense of contentment settle over you. “I’m looking forward to it,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest before finally, reluctantly, rolling off of him.

You both moved slowly, the exhaustion from the day and the intensity of your lovemaking catching up with you. Drew helped you pull the covers up over your bodies, his arm wrapping around you once more as you settled against his side. The bed was warm and comfortable, and you could feel yourself drifting off almost immediately, the events of the day a pleasant blur in your mind.

As you closed your eyes, you felt Drew press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight, my love,” he whispered, his voice the last thing you heard before sleep claimed you.

“Goodnight,” you murmured back, a smile on your lips as you finally surrendered to the peaceful darkness.

And with that, you both fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

[shares-a-vest]

Inspired by THIS picture of Joe Keery and the possibility that s4 Steve could have had the most glorious blonde highlights. we could have had it aaaaaall.

The bell chimes as Steve bursts through the glass doors of Family Video, bringing in a gust of the hot summer air with him.

"Shut the door!" Robin demands from behind the counter, lunging forward, exasperated because of course, that stupid door is getting stuck on its hinges and not closing properly right in the middle of summer. And Robin had only just managed to regulate the store's temperature after a pair of morons (aka, Mike and Will) had biked away and left it wide open.

Steve nods, looking like his blank, dingus self in his summertime attire: a baby blue polo and navy shorts that are far too short, giving Robin vivid flashbacks to their dorky Scoops uniforms. She looks down and realises he is, in fact, wearing an identical pair of blue sneakers he'd worn slinging ice creams and her mind drifts to what she could fashion in order to resurrect the 'You Suck' board. Between the outfit and his new hairstyle, he sure was regressing back to his peak 1985 lameness.

"Hi!" he announces, doing his silly little dad-jog to the counter.

"Oh my god!" Dustin shrieks, finally looking up from the VHS order catalogue he was 'helping' Robin look through.

The exclaim stirs Eddie, carefully selecting candies he is absolutely, one hundred percent going to pay for.

"Oh," he says, looking at Steve's hair, now almost entirely blonde with shining, fresh highlights. His face stays frozen in an 'o' shape as he practically collapses against the counter and holds on for dear life. Robin snickers, readying herself for some not-so-subtle teasing, but Dustin gets one in first.

"You look like a Ken doll."

Robin cackles, admittedly at her best friend's expense but, sue her. Henderson sure has a way with (bitchy) words.

Steve leans an arm on the counter, conveniently facing Eddie and smirks. "Always so complimentary, Henderson."

"Shut up, it looks good!" comes Max from the comedy aisle where she and Lucas have been standing for way too long.

Robin makes a face, knowing that all these little pocket moniless twerps are only in the store for the (not even all that good) air-conditioning.

Lucas elbows Max, offering a faint, "What the hell?"

"What?" she retorts, folding her arms. "He looks good."

The couple continues squabbling, the only intelligible words being, "he's lame", and, "but he has nice hair".

Steve runs a hand through said hair, likely knowing it's causing a store-spanning reaction because he's just that vain.

"Just got it done," he smiles like he hadn't spent the past week sitting behind the counter and not working while he was looking at hair magazines.

But he also looks like he's really only interested in impressing one very stupid, slack-jawed metalhead dressed head to toe in black despite it being the dog days of summer. Robin narrows her eyes and pokes at Eddie's bare arm in hopes of rebooting him to his annoying factory settings.

"Munson! You are being suspiciously quiet. What's say you?"

"Uhhh," he hums, looking Steve over before settling back on gawking at his goddamn hair.

"Jesus Christ!" Dustin groans, hanging his head in his hands. He gathers up his pen, paper and order catalogue and heads to the back room, continuing to act like he's an actual employee.

Eddie finally closes his mouth and gives a tight-lipped smile and Robin can practically feel Steve fawning over his devil-disguised-as-a-cherub dimples.

"It… It looks... good," Eddie mumbles, stuttering all the way and avoiding eye contact.

Robin snorts, realising the lovesick moron is just going to remain a melting puddle of goo, not worth teasing at all. She pushes off her wheely chair, sending it flying backwards as she heads for the returns trolley sitting abandoned across the store.

She misses Eddie eventually gathering himself up enough to move a step closer and quietly say, "You look pretty".

And all Steve can do is blush with a meek, "Thanks".

[4nt1chri5t]

Whispers of Betrayal - fem!readerxDracoFF

Originally published on Wattpad - Whispers of Betrayal by Alaskas_ice (me)

9 - 'Shimmering Emerald'

A few days ago, her dress finally arrived. However, she opened the letter that was attached to the box with the boutique's name on it first and decided to wait until the day of the Yule Ball to open the box and see her dress for the first time. She trusted her mother with getting the perfect dress for her, ever since she always knew how to dress the family for grand events.

The letter was simply a response to the previous ones that were exchanged and it ended with a 'Merry Christmas' to (Y/L/N) and her friends, as well as her date for the Yule Ball.

Now, the time had come. The Yule Ball was happening just in a few hours and she had to get ready. The Slytherin common room was filled with nervous students, rushing from one room to another to get everything they needed to get ready. (Y/L/N) however decided to get ready in the Ravenclaw's common room, ever since she wanted to be accompanied by Luna. She would've been fine alone as well, but still - if she needed help now, she could easily get it, especially since Luna sadly wouldn't be at the Ball and could fully concentrate on her. And, Luna's company hadn't been a bad thing so far.

(Y/L/N) managed to sneak into the Ravenclaw common room quite easily. Since there had been so many students coming in and out of the common room, she could just simply walk in without anyone even noticing, ever since everyone was fully concentrated on themselves, instead of others.

She managed to find Luna's dorm room quite fast and Luna almost already suspected her to come. She just had a sense for these kind of things. (Y/L/N) brought her back, which she earlier enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm, so that she could bring everything she needed, including her dress, make up as well as anything else she could think of that she might need. One could've said that she brought her entire dorm and stayed for other a week, although it's all about a single night.

As (Y/L/N) entered Luna's dorm room, she was greeted by a warm and inviting atmosphere. The room was in Ravenclaw's blue house color, buut the color wasn't too overpowering. Even if Luna hadn't been there, it wouldn't have been too hard to figure which bed was hers, since there was only one which was decorated heavily with dreamcatchers and surrounded by books all about magical creatures and ancient legends.

Luna, turned to face (Y/L/N) with a knowing smile. "I thought you might seek me out, (Y/N). It's as if the magic whispered it to me."

(Y/L/N) just returned a soft smile, knowing that no words are needed between the two of them. She placed down her back on a small table nearby the bed and pulled out everything she needed just now. The black box with the dress was placed neatly on the bed, until they needed it.

Luna's eyes twinkled with anticipation as she took in the array of makeup supplies that (Y/L/N) had brought. "Let's begin with creating a look that enhances your natural beauty and captures the enchantment of the night," Luna suggested.

(Y/L/N) nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for Luna's guidance. She took a seat in front of a mirror adorned with delicate silver charms, reflecting the soft glow of the room. Luna, with her gentle touch, began selecting the makeup products needed for the transformation.

Luna started by applying a sheer foundation, allowing (Y/L/N)'s complexion to radiate with a healthy glow. She then delicately dusted a touch of rosy blush on her cheeks, accentuating her features. As Luna moved on to the eyes, she rushed to the box on the bed, to have a swift look at the color of the dress, without ruining (Y/L/N)'s surprise of how the dress would look like.

Luna carefully selected an eyeshadow palette that contained a range of green shades, from soft sage to deep emerald, as well as a simple black. She chose a mid-tone green shade as a highlight to the look, one that would beautifully complement (Y/L/N)'s eyes and the dress without overpowering her natural features.

Using a fluffy brush, Luna gently swept the mid-tone green eyeshadow across (Y/L/N)'s eyelids, blending it softly towards the crease. She ensured that the color was seamlessly diffused, creating a subtle wash of green that added depth and intrigue to her eyes. She made the green stand out a little bit more by putting down black on the outer side of her eyelids, making the green tone the real eye catcher of her eye make up.

To add a touch of shimmer and highlight, Luna dabbed a pearlescent shade onto the inner corners of (Y/L/N)'s eyes. The iridescent sparkle caught the light, making her eyes appear even more enchanting.

As Luna moved on to the rest of the face, she opted for a soft and natural look. She applied a thin line of black eyeliner close to the lash line, subtly defining the eyes without overwhelming them. Then, she curled (Y/L/N)'s lashes and applied a coat of lengthening mascara, enhancing her lashes with a natural flutter.

For the lips, Luna chose a sheer berry lip tint, adding a touch of subtle color and shine. The lightweight formula provided a hint of allure without drawing attention away from (Y/L/N)'s mesmerizing eyes and the beautiful emerald dress.

As Luna stepped back to admire her work, she couldn't help but smile with satisfaction. "There you are, (Y/N). A makeup look that complements your stunning dress while allowing your natural beauty to shine."

It was finally time for (Y/L/N) to see her dress, so she headed over to the boy, which was still lying on the bed and waiting to be opened by the girl. She carefully pulled of the lid and moved the light packaging, which still hid the view of the dress behind it. Once there was nothing left between (Y/L/N) and the dress, she took a deep breath and pulled it out of the box. 

She then stood there, her arms stretched out so she could see the gown in it's entirety. I was in a beautiful emerald green with black detailing. It shimmered beutifully and had the girl hypnotized by just looking at it. 

Now, she couldn't wait to put it on, so that is what she did. She carefully slipped into it, making sure she wouldn't rip off any of the detailed little features of the custom-made dress. Once, Luna helped her with putting it on entirely, she slowly walked over to the mirror. The dress truly fitted her like none other piece of clothing ever did. 

Upon arriving at the mirror, she was truly out of breath due to the stunning dress she could now finally admire. Luna was stood beside her with a soft smile, genuinely happy for her friend.

With a single wave of her wand, Luna transformed (Y/L/N)'s hair in a beautiful look, which improved a look, (Y/L/N) didn't even think could be improved anymore. "Oh, and not to forget!" Luna suddenly said and wandered of to the small shelf next to her bed. She came back with a small spray bottle and sprayed it's insides all over (Y/L/N)'s hair, which made them now shimmer as magically as the dress already did.

"You look absolutely enchanting, (Y/L/N)," Luna exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight. (Y/L/N) couldn't help but smile, grateful for Luna's unwavering support and magical touch. She felt a surge of excitement as she realized it was time to head towards the Yule Ball.

Luna accompanied (Y/L/N) out of the Ravenclaw common room, walking side by side down the corridors of Hogwarts. As they made their way towards the staircase leading to the Great Hall, (Y/L/N) could feel her heart pounding with anticipation. The corridors were bustling with students, their voices filled with nervous excitement and anticipation for the event.

Luna stopped at the entrance of the staircase and turned to face (Y/L/N), her eyes brimming with warmth. "Remember, (Y/N), you are breathtakingly beautiful inside and out. Enjoy this magical night and let the joy and wonder fill your heart."

(Y/L/N) nodded, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. "Thank you, Luna. You've been an amazing friend tonight. I am truly glad to have you."

With a final hug, Luna bid her farewell, watching as (Y/L/N) descended the grand staircase, her emerald dress flowing gracefully behind her.

As (Y/N) stepped onto the staircase, the gazes of the students turned towards her. The whispers filled the air, and for a moment, time seemed to slow down. All eyes were fixed on her, captivated by her stunning appearance.

Draco, who had been waiting at the bottom of the staircase with his friends, his thoughts consumed by his initial intentions, was struck by awe as he laid eyes on (Y/N). His breath caught in his throat, this time completely forgetting his true intentions.

The world around Draco seemed to fade away as he stared at (Y/N). The emerald dress accentuated her figure, and the intricate detailing showcased her elegance. Her eyes sparkled with a touch of mystery, and her hair shimmered like liquid silver. In that moment, (Y/N) was the embodiment of beauty and grace.

As (Y/N) descended the staircase, her eyes met Draco's, and they both stood there for a moment, captivated by each other's appearance. The grandeur of the Yule Ball lying ahead seemed to fade into the background as they took in each other's stunning transformations.

Draco was the first to break the silence, his voice slightly shaky yet filled with genuine admiration. "You... You look absolutely stunning, (Y/N). I mean, wow." He gestured towards her emerald dress. "It suits you perfectly."

(Y/N) felt her cheeks warm at Draco's words, a mix of surprise and delight washing over her. She couldn't help but return the compliment, her voice soft yet sincere. "Thank you, Draco. You look absolutely amazing too. I'm... I'm speechless."

Draco's cheeks tinged with a faint blush, and he shifted slightly, a touch of awkwardness seeping into the air between them. "Well, um... Thank you. I didn't expect... I mean, you really caught me off guard. In a good way, of course."

(Y/N) nodded, a shy smile playing on her lips. "I understand. I didn't expect to see you like this either. It's... It's a pleasant surprise, Draco."

Draco's eyes sparkled with a mixture of uncertainty and appreciation. "You know, I've never seen you like this before. I mean, you always look nice, but tonight... it's like you've transformed into someone... extraordinary."

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

Although the champions were dancing right in front of them, they seemed to only have eyes for each other. Whenever one of them watched them dance, the other one admired the grace of their date. Draco for once didn't concentrate on his plan or Potter, who was dancing right in front of him. No, he truly admired how elegant she looked. His arrogance chimed in for a second, but even that side of him didn't have anything negative to point out about her tonight. He tried so hard to not be distracted from his plan and seemed to be doing alright until now. But today, something in his head just allowed him to truly enjoy the evening, as long as it was only for this evening.

Draco extended his hand towards (Y/N) with regained confidence, a genuine smile gracing his lips. "May I have this dance, (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with surprise -  although she should've known they'd dance earlier or later - but she quickly regained her composure and placed her hand in Draco's. "I'd be honored, Draco."

As they stepped onto the dance floor, the music enveloped them, a soft melody that seemed to resonate with their emotions. The other couples swirled around them, their movements synchronized and elegant, but Draco and (Y/N) were lost in their own world.

They moved together with a natural ease, their steps perfectly in sync as if they had danced together countless times before - not just the one time at dance practice. Draco's hand rested securely on (Y/N)'s waist, guiding her effortlessly across the dance floor. (Y/N) rested her free hand on Draco's shoulder, her touch light yet comforting.

Their gazes locked, and everything else faded away. The whispers and laughter of the other students, the grandeur of the Great Hall, even the weight of their responsibilities - all of it melted into the background, leaving only the two of them in this intimate moment.

Draco couldn't help but admire the way (Y/N) moved, her grace captivating him. Her emerald dress swirled around her as they twirled, adding a touch of enchantment to the scene. The soft lighting of the Great Hall illuminated their faces, revealing the genuine joy and contentment they found in each other's company tonight.

During their dance (Y/N) couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between them. Before tonight, he was there for her, he helped her out in a bad situation she found herself in. But tonight - something was quite different tonight. She felt somewhat vulnerable around him tonight, a feeling she wasn't used to feel when he was around. Within the last weeks he usually rather gave her the feeling of comfort and being safe. However, she now needed to figure out what that newfound vulnerability means...

[dat-carovieh]

Bright smiles and glistering eyes

Ship: Geraskier

Rating: G

Wordcount: 3.2k

Tags: Fluff, Tooth rotting fluff, Dancing, Idiots in love, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Getting Together, Party, Wedding guests

Read on AO3

“Geralt, I’ve been invited to a wedding and I’m allowed to bring someone,” Jaskier announced happily after carefully reading the letter, he had just received.

“That’s nice,” Geralt answered and continued cleaning his armour, silently wondering, who Jaskier would bring.

“Will you go with me?” the bard asked. Geralt looked up in surprise and cocked his head, parties were not really his thing.

“Please?” Geralt let out a sigh. For some reason it was hard to say no, to these big blue eyes and this smile.

“Sure. When and where?”

Jaskier jumped up happily and hugged Geralt. “Yes, thank you, it’s a month from now and on a farm near Oxenfurt, we can stay in an inn in the city. Maybe we can stay a couple of days. I’m sure you will find some well paid work there and I could meet some old friends. It will be fun.”

Geralt awkwardly patted Jaskier’s back, not sure how to deal with the sudden closeness of the bard.

“Who is even getting married?” Geralt asked.

“Jules, she is a friend of mine from back when I was at the university. She studied Philosophy. Her betrothed is called Thomas, I don’t know him yet, since I haven’t seen her in a while. But she wrote about him occasionally, he seems to be great”, Jaskier explained. Geralt had never been fond of feasts, too many people. But since it was held on a farm, it probably was much better than these royal banquets, he had to attend occasionally.

They arrived in Oxenfurt the day before the wedding. It had been important to Jaskier to still have some time left, because obviously they needed to get some clothes for the wedding.

Geralt had taken on a contract, while Jaskier went to a trusted tailor, to get something nice for the next day. Something had made itself at home in the Pontar to close to the city. Geralt easily managed to get rid of it and when he returned to their room at the inn, Jaskier had already returned.

“Look what I got for you,” he said excitedly and laid out the clothes on the bed.

They actually looked really good. A pair of black trousers, that looked like they would be pretty tight. The shirt and doublet where in dark green with a flower pattern.

Before leaving for the wedding they had taken a bath. When he got dressed, he realized the pants really where pretty tight and the doublet was tailored in a way that showed of his waist. He was impressed at how Jaskier managed to get that fitting clothes without him being present. He looked at Jaskier who was standing in front of the mirror, straightening his doublet. Geralt’s jaw dropped. Jaskier looked really good in his new clothes. The doublet was beige, with golden embroidery and crème highlights. It fit very well around his figure. Jaskier’s hair had just been washed and fell over his forehead, it looked fluffy and Geralt really wanted to touch it. Of course he didn’t, why even should he want to touch it, that didn’t make any sense.

They arrived at the wedding in the afternoon, not long before the ceremony was supposed to start. The ceremony would be held in a temple, after that the feast would begin on the farm belonging to the groom. Jaskier seemed to know quite a lot of people and Geralt felt a little out of place, while the bard was chatting to different guests. He always introduced Geralt, but they were talking about times at university, so Geralt couldn’t really join in. But at least Jaskier had fun, and it was nice, watching the bard being happy.

The ceremony was beautiful, bride and groom where wearing flowers in their hair. Her dress was in a beautiful light beige, he was wearing light blue and they both looked like they were really in love. Geralt had to admit it was much better then he had expected, none of this weird and boring shit the royals got up to and not too long. Everyone seemed eager to get to the party.

They left the temple with the other guests after the bride and groom. The farm wasn’t far away and apparently everything was already prepared. It was decorated with flowers, many tables with food and drinks were standing around. Jaskier took Geralt’s arm and dragged him to some table covered in flowers.

“Look they have flower crowns for the guests,” he said excitedly and took one, putting it on his head. It made him look… cute. Geralt was not sure, where this thought was coming from. Before he could think about it to much, Jaskier had grabbed another flower crown and turned to Geralt.

“And one for you,” he announced.

Witchers don’t wear flowers in their hair that was really not fitting for him.

“I don’t think, I need one,” Geralt said.

“Bollocks, it will look pretty on you.” Geralt couldn’t resist the hopeful smile on Jaskier’s face and lowered his head, so Jaskier could put the flower crown on his head. Jaskier took a step back and looked at him.

“Yes, very pretty,” he determined, looking happy. Geralt couldn’t help but smile. “Wow you look even prettier, when you smile.” Without thinking, Geralt extended his hand and cupped Jaskier’s face, his thumb brushed gently over Jaskier’s cheek, before he withdrew his hand and turned around.

“Come, we should find something to drink,” he said, trying to distract himself from what just happened and the fact that he had felt the strong urge to kiss the bard. They found some wine, that smelled good, so Geralt took two goblets and handed one to Jaskier, who thankfully took it. They were standing together in silence, for a while, watching the other guests talking, eating and drinking. Jaskier put down his empty goblet and turned to Geralt.

“We should go and congratulate the couple; I should also introduce you to them. Come,” he said and took Geralt’s arm to pull him with him. The couple was standing in the middle of the yard, some people in front of them, talking to them, but they soon left and Geralt and Jaskier stepped up to them.

“It is so great you made it, Julian,” the bride, Jules, Geralt remembered, said, as Jaskier stepped up to her and kissed her cheek as a greeting. “I don’t think you met Thomas before,” she introduced her new husband.

“No sadly not, good to meet you,” he said and extended his hand that was shaken by the husband.

“May I introduce my friend, Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier said, pointing to Geralt. Geralt lowered his head as a greeting.

“An honor to meet you. May the bond between you be blessed and your marriage happy,” Geralt said with a smile. Jaskier took the chance to talk a little more with his friend, about what they were doing now. Geralt quietly decided to leave them for now and look around a bit more. Music was coming out of the barn. He took a look inside and saw people dancing and on stage some bards playing music. He found himself some ale and food on a table and took some. In a corner some people were playing Gwent, he stepped closer to have a look. He did like the occasional game of Gwent. One of the guys looked up at him.

“Joining us for a game, Witcher?” he asked.

“What are you playing for?” he asked.

“Oh, just for fun,” was the answer. That did sound promising, nothing to win but also nothing to lose, just some fun so he got out his deck. The first round didn’t work out to well for the Witcher, he soon realized he could not reasonably win it so he quickly passed but he had managed to pull some cards out of his opponent’s hands and the second round was much more in his favor. So, everything would come down to the last round. While he was still thinking about his first move, a hand fell down on his shoulder. Without even turning around, he knew it was Jaskier, he could smell him and without being able to stop himself, he smiled.

“Are you gambling?” Jaskier asked, Geralt could hear the smile.

“No, we are just playing for fun,” he answered and played his first card. Jaskier plunged down next to him and leaned against his shoulder. He felt the warmth from his arm, Jaskier was leaning against, wash over his whole body, the smell in his nose drowning everything else out. It suddenly was hard to focus on the game, but the last round usually didn’t require a lot of tactics anymore. It mostly came down to who had the best cards left. And apparently that was him, but just by a couple of points.

“Oh nice, you won,” Jaskier stated happily and hugged him from the side. Geralt gathered up the cards and thanked his opponent for the game. Jaskier let go of him and they got up.

“We should dance, Geralt,” Jaskier said with excitedly.

“I don’t dance,” Geralt answered. He wasn’t even sure, he could dance.

“Oh, come on,” Jaskier said and grabbed Geralt’s hand. He started walking towards the barn, but was stopped in his tracks, because Geralt was just frozen in place, staring at their hands. His skin was pickling and his head seemed to be filled with fog. They were holding hands and Geralt couldn’t say that he minded it. Jaskier took a step back towards Geralt and looked at him.

“Are you alright?” he asked. Geralt tore his gaze away from their hands and looked directly in Jaskier’s blue eyes.

“Yes, yes,” he answered absently.

“Then come on.” Geralt allowed Jaskier to pull him to the barn, where the music played and people were dancing. The bards on the stage were playing a fast and fun sounding jig and Jaskier was jumping right in, pulling Geralt just with him. And somehow the way Jaskier jumped to the rhythm of the music, while holding Geralt’s hands was contagious and Geralt allowed himself to let go, only to be carried by the music, being led by Jaskier, dancing, jumping and spinning together, he heard a deep laugh and it took him a moment to realize it was him who was laughing. Jaskier laughed as well and he had to admit, he was having fun. The world was spinning around them, Jaskier the only constant. Everything else was getting lost in a blur.

He tugged at Jaskier’s hands, pulling him closer. The bard was stumbling against him, laughing out loud and grabbing Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt’s hands moved to Jaskier’s hips and held him close. There faces were merely inches from each other. Jaskier looking at him that happy, had to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The music suddenly moved to the background, he barely heard it anymore, instead he heard Jaskier’s heartbeat, smelled his familiar scent and couldn’t see anything else then his face. Suddenly it hit Geralt. He was in love with Jaskier, the way he felt, the way he wanted to hold him close and never let him go, it was love. Absentmindedly he lifted his hand and straightened the flower crown on Jaskier’s head, during the dance it had slipped a little.

Jaskier’s hands moved up and cupped Geralt’s face, they felt warm and soft on his cheeks and Jaskier’s face came closer. Without thinking, Geralt closed his eyes and then he felt Jaskier’s lips on his, soft and warm. His head was spinning, his thoughts only going in one direction, not wanting to let Jaskier go. His hands tangled up in Jaskier’s hair, like he had wanted to do earlier that day and it was indeed extremely soft.

Jaskier pulled back and looked at him, his hair disheveled, eyes dark and a smile on his face. But the smile suddenly vanished, he looked down and the hands disappeared from Geralt’s cheeks.

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispered. “What is it?”

Jaskier looked up at him and he suddenly looked sad. Geralt’s stomach turned, he started to feel worried.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away,” the bard said and took a step back. Geralt let him. Did Jaskier regret kissing him? Did he regret letting Geralt close? They were still standing in the middle of the dance floor, people dancing around them.

“Should we go outside for a moment?” Geralt asked. He felt like they needed a little privacy. Outside it had gotten dark already, they turned a corner and behind the barn they were alone.

“What did you mean, you got carried away? You didn’t want to kiss me?” Geralt asked carefully. Jaskier was looking to the ground, fumbling with his hands.

“Yes, no... I don’t know?” Geralt put a finger under Jaskier’s chin and tilted his head up so they could look at each other. He could smell Jaskier’s nervousness.

“Do you regret kissing me?” Geralt asked.

“No? I just didn’t want to push myself on you,” Jaskier answered and bit his lip.

“And if I wanted to kiss you again?”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Geralt didn’t answer, he just moved in and kissed Jaskier again. The stench of anxiety vanished and was replaced by happiness. Jaskier’s arms wrapped around him and he pressed himself against Geralt.

“I love you,” Geralt whispered carefully, unsure if he was doing the right thing. It just felt like he needed to say, what he was feeling right now. Jaskier pressed his face against Geralt’s shoulder and his grip around him tightened.

“I love you too, Geralt,” he said, looking up at Geralt with a bright smile.

Geralt had one arm wrapped around Jaskier’s waist, the other stroking his face and hair, pressing little kisses to the bard’s lips, cheeks and jars, enjoying holding him close.

“Should we go and enjoy a feast some more?” Jaskier suggested. “We can enjoy time alone later, when we are alone again. There is more free food and alcohol to enjoy.” Jaskier smirked. Free food and alcohol did sound compelling so Geralt agreed and Jaskier took his hand, pulling him to the yard again.

“Look at this, an abandoned bottle of meat,” Jaskier said waving a bottle around. “Would be a shame if no one would drink it.” Geralt smiled and snatched it out of Jaskier’s hands. The bard pouted in response and it was the most adorable thing ever. Geralt opened the bottle and took some big gulps before he handed it back to Jaskier who also drank a good portion of the wine.

“What is going in there?” Geralt asked, pointing to the pig enclosure b where a group of people seemed to have fun.

“Some kind of game, I think. Come we should take a look,” Jaskier said, taking another mouthful of meat and tugging Geralt’s arm to make him follow. Two pigs in the enclosure had a yellow circle painted on their backs and one lad was running after them. Some men and women where standing around it cheering him on.

“What is going on here?” Jaskier asked one of them.

“Lads’re racing to be crowned King o’ the Swineherds. And win the prize that comes with it for their wench – um, lady, meaning,” the man next to him explained.

“What are the rules?” Jaskier asked interested.

“You need to herd the piggies dabbed in yellow into the pen.”

“That sounds fun, Geralt you should win the prize for me,” Jaskier said excitedly.

“And become King of the Swineherds? That has always been my dream,” Geralt answered sarcastically.

“Please?” he said and fluttered his eyelids. Damn, it would not take long for Jaskier to realize, that he could basically get everything from Geralt when he looked at him like that.

“Alright, I will try it,” Geralt agreed and after the man who had been trying his luck gave up he entered the enclosure.

It had sounded easy enough, herding two pigs into the pen, but they never walked in the direction he wanted them to walk. He could of course use Axii, but that would be cheating so he just stumbled around after them. He could hear Jaskier laughing and actually cheering him on, at least he was having fun. Because Geralt was looking at Jaskier, he was not paying attention to where he was walking and tripped over one of the pigs, which made him fall into the mud. Like the mighty Witcher he was.

“Damn,” he cursed. Now the nice clothes were ruined.

“That looks like too much fun, he heard Jaskier saying and as he got up, he saw Jaskier climbing the fence. Laughing he started running after the pigs, trying to herd them in himself, Geralt tried to cut them of and just caught a pig that was trying to walk away between his legs. He carried it to the pen and set it down there. Jaskier was stumbling over his own fee, as he had been staring at Geralt and landed face first in the mud. Geralt could not stop himself and started laughing. But of course, he went to help him up. Only Jaskier seemed to have other plans and pulled Geralt down. He did not expect that and fell into the dirt next to Jaskier. The bard was giggling madly and as Geralt looked at him he couldn’t help himself but started giggling as well.

“You look like a pig,” Jaskier giggled.

“And what do you think you look like?” Geralt asked, taking a hand full of mud and throwing it on Jaskier’s head.

“Asshole,” Jaskier said, still laughing. He rolled to his side and let his dirty hand rest on Geralt’s dirty cheek. The flower crowns had been lost in the mud somewhere.

“Oi, if you are not playing right, leave and let the others have a go,” someone yelled at them. Jaskier jumped up and pulled Geralt up.

They left the enclosure and looked at each other out of breath but still giggling.

“I don’t think, we should stay, as filthy as we are”, Jaskier said.

“I think there is a lake nearby. Let’s get cleaned up a bit,” Geralt suggested. He took Jaskier’s hand and led the way. On their way he grabbed a random bottle from a table and took it with him.

It was a warm night so taking a bath could be fun. They jumped in complete with clothes, since they were covered in mud and needed to get cleaned a little. They managed to get most of the mud off from their faces, hair and clothes. Geralt just took off his doublet and shirt, to wash it out and then laid them out on the grass next to the lake to dry. Then he took off his trousers to do the same. He didn’t really think about it until he turned around and saw Jaskier staring at him. He had been naked before in front of the bard and right now he still was wearing his smallclothes. But that did not seem to bother the bard.

“You alright?” Geralt asked smirking. That snapped Jaskier out of his state and he started to get out of his dirty clothes as well.

Before they could get cold, they left the water and lied down on the grass next to their clothes, waiting for the warm night air to dry them. Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hand and interwind their fingers. Above their heads millions of stars were sparkling and maybe they would just lay there until the next morning, watching the stars and falling asleep at some point.

[seokra]

Mistletoe | JHS

Pairing: Hoseok x Female!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers, Work Holiday Party AU

Summary: It’s your company’s holiday party. You notice a handsome man, who you’ve never met before, and he looks absolutely lost. You make it your mission to find out who exactly he is.

Word Count: 1.5K

Rating: R

Warning: Alcohol Consumption, imagining of sexual acts (kind of - not explicit), heated make out session

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Bundled up in your petticoat, you hand your keys over to the valet boy while you gaze up at the magnificent hotel before you. Every year, your company chooses a different hotel within the city to host their annual winter gala, and this year, they’ve chosen the newly built Hotel Esperanza. With 94 floors, it’s easily the tallest building in the city. 

Stepping into the lobby, you leave your coat at the front desk’s coatcheck. Smoothing out your champagne colored, beaded gown, you begin to ascend the grand stair case that leads to the second floor where the banquet hall resides. When you open the large mahogany doors, you audibly gasp at how beautiful the room looks. Yeji, your best friend, did an amazing job decorating for this event. The theme this year is 1920′s Art Deco, so everything is black, gold and silver. Yeji somehow managed to teleport the set of Jay Gatsby’s house to the hotel, it’s stunning.

“Hey, you made it!” You hear your best friend squeal. Turning to your right, you’re greeted by her bright smile as she throws her arms around your neck, pulling you in for a tight hug. 

"How could I miss our company’s biggest event of the year?” you tease, and she giggles. “By the way, you did a phenomenal job with this party. It’s gorgeous!”

“Well, thank you! I only lost a month’s worth of sleep putting this event together,” she joked and you throw you head back laughing into your hand. “C’mon, let’s go mingle with these assholes and see which one we end up going home with for the night,” Yeji says as he hands you a fluke of Champagne from a passing waiter.

The two of you make your way through two circles of men dressed in their best black tuxedos, talking about stocks and laughing at stale, borderline-offensive jokes. You’re downing the rest of your Champagne when one of the men, Kim Namjoon to be more specific, asks you if you’d like another drink.

“Why, thank you, I’d love another drink,” you smile.

“What do you drink?” he asks.

“I’ll take a-”

“Grey Goose Martini, dirty, with a lemon twist,” Yeji answers for you. “Two, please,” she interrupts you, innocently batting her lashes at him.

“Of course, I’ll be right back,” he smirks. Your eyes follow the tall man as he weaves his way through the crowd to get to the bar on the other side of the room.

“He’s handsome, isn’t he? He’s got this... I don’t know, sexy aura about him that makes me want to climb him like a tree,” Yeji whispers into your ear. 

“Careful, you’re drooling a bit,” you tease, lifting your thumb to dab at the corner of her mouth. She bats your hand away and rolls her eyes, causing you to chuckle.

You turn gaze back to the bar and catch the sight of a man you’ve never seen before. He’s very attractive with a long, chiseled face. His dark hair is swept back, highlighting his sharp cheek bones and slender nose. He’s dressed in a navy blue vest and trouser set over a white button down and matching neck tie. He’s focused on this phone screen, brows tightly knitted together as he reads whatever is on the screen of his phone. When he looks up, he scans the crowd, as if he’s looking for someone in particular. He looks absolutely lost, concern clearly etched into his brows as he stares at his phone screen again.

You lean into Yeji, whispering into her ear, “hey, who’s that guy at the bar?”

Turning around to look, she spots the man and shrugs. “Beats me. I’ve never seen him before,” she replies.

“Me neither...”

When Namjoon returns with your martini, you quickly thank him again before excusing yourself. You squeeze your way through the crowd, greeting everyone you know on the way before you reach the bar. You settle into the stool beside the mysterious man and sip your martini while you listen to him mutter to himself.

“Ah, shit...” he says beneath his breath, running a frustrated hand through his slicked back hair.

“What’s the matter?” You curiously ask.

He finally notices you, eyes wide when his gaze meets your face. “I-uh... I think I’m at the wrong event,” he confesses.

“Do you work for Bang Enterprises?” 

He shakes his head. “No.”

"Hmm... well, since you’re already here, why not have a drink?” You propose. Let me guess... a  whiskey and sprite?” 

“Impressive,” he nods his head, and the bartender begins making his drink. “How’d you guess?”

“Instincts,” you grin. “So, what’s your name?”

“Hoseok. Jung Hoseok,” he answers.

“Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m _____,” you extend your hand and he gently shakes it.

“Nice to meet you, too, and thank you for the drink,” he says as the bartender hands him a glass of bubbling amber liquid.

“Of course!” You smile at him. “So who do you work for Mr. Jung?”

“Please, Hoseok is fine,” he insists. “I work for AJ Look.”

“Oh, I know Jiwoo! We collaborated with her a few years back! Are you two related by chance?” you inquire.

“Yep. She’s my big sister,” he proudly admits.

“Oh, wow. I should’ve guessed because now that I think about it, you two look a lot alike.”

He chuckles at your response. “Yeah. We get that a lot.”

“There you are!” You jump at the feeling of two arms encircling your waist from behind. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” 

You turn around in the stool to face your best friend and her cheeks are flushed, indicating that she’s definitely feeling the effects of alcohol. “Yeji, meet Hoseok. Hoseok, this is my best friend Yeji. She’s the assistant of our CEO,” you introduce the two of them to each other.

“Oh, hi! Wow, your hands are really soft!” Yeji exclaims, shaking his hand. She leans a little closer to you, hand covering her mouth as she loudly whispers, “He’s really cute! You should get his number.”

Hoseok chuckles when he hears her and your neck heats up from embarrassment. “Yeji, Honey, would you like some water?” you ask her.

“Oh, yes, please!” You order her a water and she begins to gulp it down. “Mm, there’s Mr. and Mrs. Bang! I gotta go! It was great meeting you... was it, Hoseok? Take good care of _____ for me alright?” she flashes him a smile and he reciprocates it with a nod of his head before she disappears into the crowd.

“Would you like to dance?” Hoseok asks.

“What? Oh, no, I don’t dance,” you reject, but Hoseok stands up anyways, grabbing your hand and pulling you off your stool.

“You don’t? Or you can’t?”

“I can’t…” you admit.

“That’s alright, just follow my lead,” he says as he drags you into the crowd of dancing bodies. He spins you and pulls you flush against his chest.  Setting your arms over his shoulders, he slides his hands down your sides, resting them on the curves of your hips. “Is this alright?” He asks, and you nod, breath hitching as you feel him firmly grip you. “Okay, all you gotta do is let go, follow what I do, and just have fun.” He advises and you nod your head at his words. He begins to move his hips, guiding yours to match his rhythm. “See, you’re doing great!” He smiles. As you’re starting to get into the groove of the music, Hoseok gently pushes you away, then quickly spins you back to him again. Causing you to throw your head back laughing. “Not so scary, right?” he grins. 

The two of you spend most of the night swinging and dancing together to the lovely jazz music. You’re three martini’s in and you’re definitely feeling the buzz. You can’t remember the last time you had this much fun dancing. As the music begins to slow, Hoseok intertwines your fingers together in one hand while his other hand holds you close by the small of your back. There’s something about his touch on your skin that sends sparks through your veins. Maybe it’s the vodka, but the thought of his delicate hands on you is sending your mind to places not suitable for a work function. Your eyes flash up to his dark, umber eyes, and you wonder how much darker they can get looking up at you from between your legs. You bite your bottom lip from the thought while your gaze drops to his mouth. His tongue slightly pokes out to wet them, and it makes you imagine how soft they’d feel against your skin and how he’d taste against your tongue.

“Hey, you’re blushing.” Your thoughts are interrupted by the husky sound of Hoseok’s voice.

“W-what?”

“You’re blushing,” he repeats, the corner of his lips lifting into a smirk, intrigue sparkling in his eyes. “What’s on your mind?” he asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know...” you tease. A gasp escapes you as Hoseok promptly dips you.

“I would. Except... I think I already know,” he leans in and softly kisses your lips, leaving you breathless when he holds you up on your feet again. If you weren’t flushed  before, you definitely are now. “So… your place, or mine?” he asks.

The corner of your mouth quirks up as you take his hand and lead him out of the banquet hall. Just as you meet the top of the grand staircase, Hoseok pulls you back to him. “What is it?” you ask. He looks up and you follow his gaze, your eyes landing on mistletoe hanging on a garland over the staircase. He bites his lip, grinning as his hand slides up the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your curls. He leans in and captures your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. The sweet taste of his vanilla chapstick dances with the spice of the whiskey he’s been drinking over your tastebuds. You moan into his mouth as he gently tugs on your bottom lip with his tongue before pulling away. Your chest heaves as you stare into his dark, charming eyes, heart racing against your sternum. “I can’t wait. Let’s get a room,” you propose, and Hoseok nods his head. That’s all the confirmation you need as the two of you rush down the hotel’s grand staircase, straight to the front desk, booking a room for the night. 

A/N: Thank you guys for reading! I apologize for taking so long loading the next installment in my Holidays with Bangtan 2021 Drabble Series. Thank you for being patient. I hope you enjoyed this story!

[mc-lukanette]

Being the little girl that she was (both in age and height), Marinette couldn't see over the railing of her balcony without a bit of effort, but that didn't stop her from being there. The balcony was her little hideaway from the world where she felt that she could do whatever she wanted, able to recognize the footsteps of her parents before they actually showed up so she had time to break back into reality and hide anything she might've been working on for them.

That particular day, she'd taken to drawing, a box of crayons and a sketchpad at work for her; she'd gotten them for her birthday and hadn't accepted anything else to draw with ever since. The crayons were plentiful, displaying more colors than she could've ever needed, whereas the sketchpad had paper about twice the size of a normal sheet.

She was given even more of an excuse to spend her time on the balcony that day since the wind wasn't strong, allowing her to draw to her heart's content without worry of her papers getting blown away.

Lying on her stomach, she was partway to drawing the light pink dress she'd seen in her dreams when the sound of a guitar made her stop. She'd heard music being played near her house a few times, but those were a lot more loud and chaotic whereas the current music seemed more subdued and calm.

She looked around, then pushed herself up into a sitting position and shuffled over to the fence of the balcony. Peeking through the bars, she followed the sound's source to the houseboat floating in the Seine, practically right in front of her house. There was a boy sitting there, his back facing her and a slightly over-sized guitar in his lap. His hair was messy, but the tips were highlighted in a gorgeous blue color that put her crayons to shame.

The music he played was actually really good, even though he wasn't perfect at it, and she felt impressed since she didn't know the song he was playing. Maybe he wrote his own music?

It took her a few minutes to realize that she'd done nothing but get lost in the sound, her paper and crayons left abandoned behind her. Snapping to attention, she got an idea and turned around, hurrying to get back to them so she could enact it. Without even a thought spared for her sketchpad, she ripped out a sheet of paper from it, setting the sketchpad aside and pulling out the blue and black colors from her box of crayons.

On the single sheet of paper, laid out horizontally, she took the blue crayon and started drawing various music symbols near the corners. She wasn't a musical expert by any means, but she knew enough and added a guitar just for effect. Then, right in the middle, she used the black crayon to write a simple message:

Your music is pretty.

That done, she pushed her crayons off to the side and began meticulously folding the piece of paper. Given that she loved arts & crafts of all kinds, she knew by heart how to do all sorts of origami.

Making something as simple as a paper airplane was almost too easy for her.

She took the folded message in her hand, then stood and walked over to a nearby stool, dragging it until it was right by the center of her balcony's fence. She stepped onto it, now able to peek over the railing and see the houseboat without any bars in front of her vision to obscure it. Sticking her tongue out to the side, she reeled her arm back, then threw the plane in the direction of the Seine. A hint of doubt briefly overtook her concerning her aim, making her reach out for the plane, but it was far too late to stop it.

The paper airplane soared smoothly at first, courtesy of her throw, but dipped soon after due to the lack of wind. Marinette nervously bit her bottom lip, watching it soar another few meters before dipping again, even as she silently pleaded for it to go farther.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a gust of wind came from behind her. She winced at the chill, then gasped as she saw the paper airplane pick up speed and almost seem to steer itself in the right direction. It flew past the streets and sidewalks, turning just slightly as it actually reached the houseboat, causing it to swerve into the boy's eyesight when it landed on the deck.

The music stopped as the boy's head tilted down at the paper, clearly seeing it. He paused, then carefully set his guitar aside as he got up. He went over to the plane, then picked it up, examining it for a moment before finally starting to unfold it. Marinette giggled when he had the whole thing undone and held out, as it looked as if he were holding a treasure map.

She couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that she couldn't see his immediate reaction, given that he wasn't facing her, but hoped that the message made him happy anyway.

When his arms lowered, signifying that he was done reading, he looked around the houseboat, then turned to search the streets behind him. Marinette realized that he was looking for the writer of the message once his gaze drew upwards to meet hers, and she could just make out his blue eyes.

She squeaked, lowering herself at first to hide, then steeled up her confidence and rose back up, waving at him. He gaped at her, then began to frantically look around the houseboat again, even doing a spin to fully survey it but seeming disappointed at whatever he did or didn't find. He considered the paper in his hands, then set it down on top of whatever he'd been sitting on, setting his guitar on top of a portion of it like it were a massive paperweight. Having done that, he ran into the houseboat itself, to the point where she could no longer see him.

She frowned, not understanding what he was doing. Had...had he not liked it?

Letting her nerves overtake her, she sank down, gripping the bars hard while she fought herself in the prison of her own anxiety. Maybe he thought it was weird to get a message from a stranger? Or... maybe her hand writing wasn't neat enough. Maybe he was mad because she hadn't drawn the guitar accurately enough!

Before she could worry further, the boy returned to the deck, having brought things with him. He knelt down and started to set them down, Marinette squinting to try to see what they were.

Her eyes lit up with relief as she realized: he had brought markers and his own piece of paper.

Excitement coursing through her at the prospect of what was happening, she grabbed the railing and pulled herself up, carefully balancing herself on top of the railing while kneeling down. Her mother would never approve, but she couldn't hear their footsteps anyway and imagined they'd never know.

The boy finished whatever he was writing, then began to fold. Given the size of the paper he was using, she knew that it was going to be smaller than hers, but she didn't mind; it'd just be cuter, that's all.

He took the folded paper carefully in his hand, then looked up to her, at which point she wondered if he could really manage to fly the plane all the way up there. Nevertheless, he seemed determined, taking a few steps backwards with the paper airplane held high. Taking a breath, he then dashed forward, throwing the plane towards her.

The wind picked up again, this time in the opposite direction. Marinette leaned forward in awe, eyes sparkling as the paper airplane was flown her way, regardless of how many meters up she was in comparison to the boy. She gripped the railing for safety's sake to ensure that she wouldn't fall, but once the plane was within her reach, she couldn't help herself. The wind in her hair, she raised her arms, gripping the paper with both hands while being careful not to crush it.

Losing her balance, due to both the wind and her letting go of the railing, she fell back onto the balcony, though it wasn't anything painful compared to her usual clumsiness and she was far too happy to care. She sat up, trying not to rush while unfolding the paper in fear of tearing it somehow.

The message he'd written was simple, like hers, but it made her smile regardless.

Thanks. I like your drawings.

She beamed, then set the paper down and hopped back up on the stool to look at him over the railing. She waved at him, which he returned with his own and a happy smile on his face. Now unable to help herself, she got back down and returned to her sketchpad, humming the song he'd been playing earlier as she thought of what to write back.

Thus began their daily habit of sending paper airplanes to each other, favored by the wind and delivered successfully each time.

[thenarcolepticone]

What We Do in the Daytime

(AO3)

Summary: Arthur is a man who doesn’t know how to eat a proper meal. Alfred is a vampire that can’t eat a proper meal because Arthur doesn’t know how to eat a proper meal. Vampire!AU

Rating: T

Characters: America/England (USUK)

A/N: Written for @orestiad for her birthday, late to post on Tumblr because I forget I have an account. Hope ya’ll like it. 

“You can’t be serious.”

Arthur crossed his legs, finally taking the time to lift his head from his desktop computer to address the response. 

The room was nearly pitch black, save for the strips of sunlight that managed to make it through the blinds, highlighting bits and fragments of dusty carpet. It was a cold winter out despite the appearance of the sun’s rays, and Arthur found it genuinely bothersome on most days when he preferred the cloudier weather.

Arthur sat on his office chair with his back to the window, keeping himself safely within the light of the window. His gaze focused on the man in front of him, leaning on the doorway, who was dressed in a red sweater vest with loose frizz, lint and crumb free. It was paired with warm leggings and a haphazardly thrown-on scarf that sat comfortably upon his neck. 

Arthur nearly rolled his eyes at the fashion choice. It wasn’t typical of the other to dress in winter clothes; weather hardly affected him in the same way humans did. But now, he simply looked like he was dressed to leave the house. 

But how could he? It was midday.  

A deceivingly young and concerned face stared back at Arthur with worried, icy blue eyes. Alfred Jones, two centuries old vampire extraordinaire, was against his door frame. And unfortunately, blocking the only exit.

“Yes, Alfred. I’m serious. I’m always serious,” Arthur grumbled back at the shadowy figure; a sneer gracing his lips as he returned his eyes back to his screen to continue typing. 

“It’s the only place in this house before sundown that I believe is safest from you. You wouldn’t take a bite out of me so close to the sun, would you?”

“No,” Alfred begrudgingly murmured, crossing his arms. “But we agreed that you’d come downstairs after noon so you could eat the food I made for you.” 

“I’m in the middle of a scene,” Arthur dismissed immediately, fingers gliding over the keyboard loudly in an attempt to force the other to get the hint. But that could hardly stop Alfred from raising his voice out of exasperation. 

“But you’re not healthy yet, Arthur,” Alfred practically complained, standing up straight to step forward into the room. It was at first a daring move, but however, he was not able to continue inward due to the light peeking through the blinds behind Arthur. It created a minor inconvenience that would prevent Alfred from being able to enter the room completely, which caused the vampire to give an annoyed groan. 

“No if’s, and’s or but’s. We said we were going to do this, remember? We even made a chart on which days we said you were going to eat!”

When Arthur did not answer, Alfred gave a very loud and very dramatic huff back to the door. 

“You’re being really fuckin’ unfair,” Alfred sighed, giving Arthur a tired look. “Can’t you just take a break from the script? Please? Lunch is only going to take like ten minutes and your work isn’t going to disappear from you while you’re gone.”

“No human alive can eat an entire lunch made by you in only ten minutes, Alfred,” Arthur reasoned, raising an eyebrow. “And I already said to not worry. I just need to finish one more page of this and then I’ll come.”

With an eye roll, Alfred was heard leaving back down the steps, stomping his footsteps loud enough that it was clear he was going to very much wait for him downstairs if it took him a century.  

After a long moment of glaring at the same paragraph several times until the words didn’t make sense, he got up from his chair and stretched. 

He wondered sometimes if Alfred was really two centuries old. The vampire always acted like he was a lot younger than that, but it could be attributed to his sense of superiority being constantly challenged by Arthur’s own hardheadedness. 

It took Arthur an additional five minutes before he decidedly chose to step into the darkness, finally making his way down the steps. Arthur hadn’t even made it to the bottom of the stairs before he was immediately greeted by the other, apron and all, husband like in nature. 

Arthur rolled his eyes and blushed. Alfred grinned. 

“So. Ten minute break?”

“It’ll be nine if you won’t quit being unnecessary.” 

The words almost hit like a command, and Alfred moved briefly aside to let the other walk into the dining area in the kitchen. It was nicely set up: a single plate and all on top of a snowflake decorated placemat. Extra, but the effort was appreciated. 

Arthur still hadn’t yet felt comfortable admitting that this was all normal; a guest in his house but owning a single chair, a single couch, a single bathroom and a single bed. It felt like the space wasn’t shared equally between them always, but Alfred had not minded at all. 

Alfred never minded, of course. Alfred didn’t need such amenities to function daily like Arthur did. He was only here for one thing, which was the obvious, and Arthur hadn’t yet given it to him. Perhaps that singular idea could be the reason why Alfred tended to like watching Arthur eat. It was creepy, but as Alfred said before, he didn’t mind watching Arthur eat. But Arthur had to remind himself not to look back at the vampire sometimes; possibly one day seeing the other carnivorously licking his lips like some cartoon wolf.

Though, in reflection, “healthy” hadn’t ever been associated with fear like this, and frankly, Arthur didn’t even have the words to describe how oxymoronic it was to think about it.

As if to interrupt his thoughts, Alfred gently pushed him into the chair. Arthur nearly stumbled back into the backrest harsh enough to almost make it fall, had Alfred not been close enough to catch him. Immediately after this, Alfred bounded away, likely grabbing the food for Arthur. The writer merely adjusted himself in the chair; stomach aching out of concern on what was in store for him. 

The plate that arrived was not what Arthur had expected. Bacon and eggs.

Arthur looked up to Alfred with curiosity. 

“... you cooked meat?” He said with genuine surprise. This was not a normal meal cooking practice; the vampire often complained heavily on how meat often just smelled ‘dead’ despite being preserved. It was his heightened senses, surely. 

“Hell yeah,” Alfred said proudly, now suddenly seeming to keep a distance as he tried to cover up his countenance by smiling. Hard. His teeth almost looked as if they would break themselves from how hard he was clenching the smile, fangs included. Arthur couldn’t help but smile a little at the attempt to make some protein based diet despite the fervent dislike for meat.

“It still reeks like a dead animal though. I don’t know why you like that shit, to be honest. But I googled on what you liked since your friend Francis mentioned that it had iron and stuff.

“Wait. You asked Francis?” Arthur wasn’t even sure how Alfred had gotten his number; Alfred didn’t even know how to use a modern phone, much less a smartphone. As if to answer, Alfred rushed out quicker than a flame would be to wind. 

“Enjoy your meal! Come back after twelve okay? I’ll make lunch!”

Arthur sighed, letting it go. The rare moment of silence was hard to earn when eating with a vampire. Perhaps the other had just simply guessed the password to his phone, or had read his notification messages. Nothing too embarrassing. 

At the end of it, though, Arthur took his meal in silence. And it was the best he had tasted in years. 

“What did the Doc say?” “I’m still anemic,” Arthur grumbled, closing his front door and locking it. The trip itself had gone a lot better than he expected despite the diagnosis. The smell of alcohol and sanitary chemicals were enough to drive a man insane, Arthur included.

Alfred was found sitting on the couch, laid practically facing Arthur’s direction, and after Arthur’s less than appealing response, Alfred wrinkled his nose in displeasure. 

“But he said it was getting better,” Arthur amended, exhaling as he went ahead to stride away back to the writing desk. But before he could, he could feel a hand grip him, and Arthur looked down to see Alfred grasping his wrist in an iron grip. 

“.... yes?”

“Stay with me?”

Arthur felt himself sigh again, going over to sit next to him as Alfred made room and sat up, head now leaning on Arthur’s shoulder as he nosed his way into the crook of writer’s neck. 

“You know, most people would think that a vampire would suck my blood dry the second I let my guard down like this,” Arthur murmured, Alfred let out a quiet laugh. 

“You’re not most people, Arthur. Besides; anemic blood is pretty disgusting to drink.” “Pardon me,” Arthur rolled his eyes before Alfred laughed again, gently patting Arthur’s knee. 

“But your blood is super good!” Alfred announced as if it were some kind of compliment; Arthur didn’t understand this kind of sentiment despite knowing that it’s meant to be one. 

“It’s the best tasting I’ve ever had, to be honest with you. It’s just... dirty. If that’s the right word. It’s not incurable though. We just have to keep up with the schedule and your iron supplements.” Alfred leaned into him, and Arthur let him, relaxing as Alfred settled his head on Arthur’s lap, looking up at him. 

“And? What will you do once I’m healthy again?” Arthur prompted, eyes curiously meeting him but unafraid as Alfred gently stared back. His eyes were almost predatory, unmoving and glaring. It was a source of nightmares to find him in the middle of the night some days, but Arthur had gotten so used to his company over the last few months it hardly caused less than a mild eyebrow raise.

Arthur found that he hated to admit it, but his own health had only steadily been improving. It was at a snail’s pace, but at least according to how they’ve been handling it together, its progress. The two men had met in a subway after Arthur had so stupidly passed out in the middle of a commute. Alfred had almost been quick to kill him, had his anemia not saved himself from him due to the taste.

It was a confusing mix of trust and insecurity with Arthur; Alfred had, at some point, decided to take care of the Englishman enough so that he could return to his healthy status. But to what end? He never prompted the question to Alfred about what he would do when this would be settled until this moment. 

The final diagnosis today was just that he was going to get better eventually. It was the proof that Alfred needed to confirm that he could finally have Arthur all to himself. 

“... I don’t know.” Alfred admitted quietly, gaze turning to the television playing a very quiet game of Jeopardy. Arthur watched the screen briefly before returning his gaze to Alfred. “I haven’t had any blood except for yours since the time I came to you. It’s weird. I should feel hungry. But I’m not. I haven’t been.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

“Suspicious.”

“Tell me about it,” Alfred groaned, face exasperated as he covered it with his own hands in what appeared to be irritation. “I think it has something to do with some old tradition. I didn't believe it before; but my Ma used to tell me that vampires don't actually need to drink blood. They suck out the ‘good’ emotions from humans. It’s just that it’s easier to take it from the blood, since people blush when they’re happy, or horny, or embarrassed. Whatever.

“But she did tell me once that if I found someone I really cared about, I didn’t need to make myself… suck all of that out of anyone else. Because I already feel happy.”

Arthur and Alfred met eyes again, Alfred spreading his fingers so that his eyes could peek between them. Alfred smirked. 

“Oh. You’re blushing.”

“Shut up,” Arthur practically kicked Alfred to sit back up, which he did compliantly. And even as he stormed off to his office to go back to his novel, he figured that there could be some truth to it. Or it could be a blatant lie. 

In the end, though. Arthur figured that it would just be worthwhile to see how far down the rabbit hole of a “relationship” this was going to be. 

[shirophantomvox]

First Date with Chrollo (Human Diary)

Hello everyone! I am back with another “First Date” post featuring the Prince of Darkness. This was an anon post but I can't find the ask anywhere! I have been watching JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures lately and it is a very interesting show. Dio turned into a zombie and he’s so mean to Joseph. Anyway, let’s get into the post. The end is a bit angst-y but I did that to take a slight turn from all Fluff. I hope you enjoy! Part 2 coming sometime this week.m

It is common knowledge that Chrollo loves to read many books. When he was a child, he had time to read and that provided a great source of comfort. Although he seems to be ruthless, every human has the ability to seek compatibility and compassion. Both Hisoka and Chrollo enjoy the romance genre except Hisoka prefers to watch movies while Chrollo loves to read stories. You've known Chrollo since elementary school. You were fortunate enough to be able to move out of Meteor City and attend a better elementary school. As a child, you were an outcast and made few friends but on occasion, Chrollo would see you at a local arcade. Of course, your mother paid for the both of you to have fun but once it was over, it broke your heart because you knew about the conditions he’d return to once he left.

As time went on, you entered college and decided to invite Chrollo on campus so he could be something like a driving force for future success. You’ve been accepted into Yorknew University planning on majoring in Computer Science with a minor in Digital Art. Reaching Chrollo posed a challenge. He never responded to a few messages but on the third try, he answered with an excited response.

“Please forgive me y/n for not responding soon enough. I am more than happy to visit you. I am proud of you and your accomplishments. I do not see myself as a college man but, hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it right? I’ll be in touch.”

-Chrollo

At exactly 7 PM on a calm Fall night, standing outside of the campus’ most prominent book store, you began to sweat and your makeup began to drip. Just as you were about to wipe it off, you heard a voice call your name.

“Y/n? Is that you?” He chuckled as he questioned your appearance.

Turning around, you jumped a little at the sight before you. This wasn’t the same Chrollo you remember, of course. He had grown several feet, his face was much sharper, his arms were much bigger, had a bandana tied on his forehead, and he had a few rings on. He was dressed in a white polo shirt, black pressed slacks and black dress shoes. It’s weird. It felt like an arrow was shot through your heart.

“Are you ok? You act as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine! I’m just---You--look…”

“Ah, I see. There’s no need to be flustered. I am the same as when we were kids.”

The Yorknew Sailor Store was designed something exactly like a Barnes and Noble except the walls were painted to match the school’s colors.

The bookstore had a perfectly designed Starbucks, with a wooden finish, black and brown metal tables, beige tile floor, and glass doors.

Chrollo immediately noticed the change in behavior, one he wasn’t used to.

The students were snooty according to him and reminded him of how the city council would act towards him, his family, and those who were like him.

First, you offered to buy him a drink. The good thing about Chrollo is that if you or anyone else offers to buy something, He will not reject it. There is no such thing as having too much pride regarding him.

“Do you drink coffee?”

“Of course I do,” he replied. “But I don’t think I’ve had any of these drinks. A Caramel Macchiato? That sounds good.”

“Order it then! That will give you just the right amount of energy for today’s reading!”

To you, this was just two friends reuniting with each other but something else told you that Chrollo thought it was something more. He only dressed up like this if he was going out with someone special and even then it wasn’t an expensive Polo Short, It was his best t-shirt and jeans.

It boggles your mind how Chrollo acquired his expensive clothing but maybe he obtained a great job and is able to make a living for himself.

“I’d like to order a Caramel Macchiato.”

“What’s the name for this drink?”

“Chrollo,” you responded.

“And for you?”

“I would like a caramel Frappuccino with soy milk and no whip cream.”

“Alright. That’ll be $15.00.”

Chrollo glanced at you wide-eyed.

“It’s ok. I got it.”

You take out your card to pay and as you move out of line you bend over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe you can pay for dinner though.”

He laughed and smiled. “Of course, y/n.”

The bookstore was full of comfortable furniture ranging from light blue, dark blue, white in the lounge area. Both of you decided to sit across from each other on the blue chairs that swallowed you both as you sat.

As he read, he’d point out any interesting points in the book. He got tired of yelling across the table, so he decided to share a chair with you. He could feel the heat radiating from your body.

It was almost obvious that you all were involuntarily flirting with each other. The school was full of couples but occasionally seeing the goofy couple was the highlight of everyone’s day.

“This man was so devoted to a woman that does not know that he exists.”

“Sounds pointless,” you say, still trying to read your book.

“Well, she knows he exists but she is ignoring him and making him look like a fool in front of everyone. He says that there is something about her that he has never seen in any woman.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s her eyes, smile, intelligence, the shape of her lips, and her perfume powder aroma. Those are things that drive men wild.”

You smiled and laughed but came to a quick halt when you felt something along the ridge of your neck made you still. The hair on your neck stood up still as the invading force came in contact with your skin. It was Chrollo grazing his nose against your skin, slightly sniffing in your aroma; slowly breathing in and out.

Closing your eyes couldn’t make your sudden arousal fade. At this point, nearly everybody was looking at you both and looked away. This behavior was innocent for college culture, but it was taken as a cute gesture rather than naughty.

You blush. It was quite surprising that your childhood friend viewed you as something of the sort. It was both flattering and scary.

There’s no denying that Chrollo is handsome but if you dated him and the relationship didn't last, it could ruin your friendship.

At this point, Chrollo had his right arm resting lazily behind your back as his head and next aimed in a position that would allow his nose to lay carelessly on your neck.

“You smell delightful. I didn’t know you wore such expensive perfume. Is it….,” He sniffs again, “Flower Rose?”

“Yes! How did you know? Does your mother wear it?”

“She does now. I bought it for her a week ago and now the guys in the city can’t stay off her.”

Wow. The City. Even though it was a hell hole, it was your hell hole. How is everything? How is your mother? How did you manage to have such an expensive taste in clothing and fragrance?

Chrollo enjoys making others flustered. It's amusing to see them stutter when they’re either aroused or nervous.

On the flip side, seeing Chrollo flustered was the highlight of the century! The bad guys are used to being “bad” but expressing softer emotions makes it amazing and a reminder that they can experience them too.

Grabbing Chrollo’s left hand, you gently kiss it a few times and wink at him. He smiled, hiding his dumbfounded expression, and blushed slightly.

“I see you catch on quick.”

“I was raised in Meteor City. Just because I’m here doesn't mean I have forgotten where I come from. But I didn’t know you liked me.”

“You were the only one that trusted me and played with me when no one would.”

It felt like two magnets were pulling you closer. If he kissed you right here right now, you could just melt into a puddle but before anything happened, Chrollo’s phone rang loud and echoed throughout the bookstore.

Glancing at his phone, you saw an unknown number call, and judging from his actions he stood quickly to his feet.

“I’ll only be gone for a second.”

Hmm. That was odd. During this short intermission, you continue to read your book. Ironic enough, you weren’t into romance novels per se, you enjoyed action and comedy books!

Once Chrollo returned, his face was flushed and his soft demeanor had suddenly disappeared. He looked as if he was going to punch a wall.

“What’s wrong, Chrollo?”

He glanced at you with a somber smile, hoping to convince you that he was alright. “I am fine, y/n.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, if you count my mother being seriously injured, then yes.”

“Oh no! We can leave now, it’s fine.”

“No, it's ok. She wouldn’t want me to leave you all by yourself at this time of day.” He pointed to the night sky.

Wow! That was quick!

“What do you mean?”

“My mother predicted that I could end up with you...she also predicted that someone would be hurt or in danger if that prophecy was fulfilled. It’s sort of like give or take. In order to make someone happy, someone has to surrender their happiness and I guess it was her.”

A single tear dropped down his cheek and nothing more. He didn’t care if other men singled out his “weakness” because he’d destroy them all and he didn’t want y/n to know about his abilities until later.

The comfort of your warmth against his head provided more than comfort. He felt safe, welcomed, not judged, and vulnerable. He knew that you wouldn’t make him out to be a bad person but instead welcome him home with open arms. You were his human diary.

[nxrthmizu]

| the king’s sister | Kageyama Tobio

»»——⍟——««

prompt | This post

pairing | ??? Yet to be determined 

words | 806 

author’s note | due to popular demand (actually, it was just @whootwhoot​ ) I have decided to write this drabble! Enjoy :) 

»»——⍟——««

The squeaks of volleyball shoes across the court was a familiar noise in the morning as Karasuno’s boys team prepared vigorously for their upcoming qualifiers. The yells of ‘I’ve got it’ and ‘Open!’ clouded the court in a symphony of teamwork. 

Takeda and Ukai watched from the sidelines, the once flightless crows mutating and adapting into a new, powerful form. The cogs had clicked together, triggering the whole piece of machinery to run as one. There were still chinks and little crevices to smooth out, and the gears needed a little oiling, but Karasuno was becoming the best it had ever been for a long time. 

Pants echoed off the gym walls as the boys slumped against the sides of the courts, drinking in the much-needed water that their bodies were crying for. Even Kageyama and Hinata were too tired to start up another silly argument, much to Daichi’s and Suga’s relief. 

After their little break, players started getting up and gathering in circles on the court, getting ready for another tiring session of practice. Before anyone could get started, however, there was a knock on the gym door. 

A head of silky, black hair peered in, accompanied by sparkling midnight-blue eyes. “Is Kageyama Tobio here?” The girl asked, her eyes lighting up as she spotted the first year setter, holding up a box wrapped in dark blue cloth. “Tobio! You forgot your lunch!” 

She was dressed in the Karasuno uniform, wearing her white blouse underneath the beige sweater. Her dark blue skirt flapped under the wind, her sleek legs highlighted by the black tights she was wearing. A violin case was slung over her shoulder, giving the team a pretty good idea of which club she belonged to. 

“Oh.” Kageyama looked flustered as he rushed forward, taking the lunchbox from the shorter girl, who ruffled his hair with a grin on her face. “Shut up.” He muttered, whatever the girl said being out of earshot from the team. A faint red dusted his cheeks as the girl pinched his cheeks happily, waving at him before she left, a skip in her steps as she walked away from the gym. 

Kageyama’s ears were burning red as he returned back to where the team was gathered, having placed his lunch box next to his bottle. 

“Damn.” Noya’s jaw had dropped so far it was practically touching the court floor. “She’s beautiful.” Under normal circumstances, either Sugawara or Daichi would’ve chastised the libero, but the two were too flustered to have any right to say anything. 

The dark-haired first year setter nodded, looking rather blank and confused at the fuss. “I know. I’ve been told.” 

“Oi, Kageyama, how’d a hopeless guy like you get such a pretty girl like that to talk to you?” Tanaka elbowed the first year setter, grinning from ear-to-ear. 

Kageyama tilted his head to one side in confusion, blinking twice as he tried to understand the question. “She’s my sister.” 

The gym erupted into noise like a volcano, the yells and screams overflowing from the court. There was Noya’s and Tanaka’s yells of ‘Why didn’t you ever tell us you had a sister?’, Hinata and Yamaguchi’s yells of ‘Kageyama-kun has a sister?’, Tsukishima’s displeased sigh of ‘Can you guys shut up,’, and Takeda’s failed efforts at calming the team down. 

“So the king has a sister.” Tsukishima commented in amusement. 

“That makes her the... Princess!” Hinata suggested brightly (“Or the queen,” Yamaguchi piped in). 

»»——⍟——««

[Two months later, at a Karasuno vs Seijoh practice match] 

“I look forward to beating you on the court again, Tobio-chan!” Oikawa said in a sing-song voice, Iwaizumi already marching towards him with an dark expression. “Eh, who’s this? Karasuno got another manager?” 

The dark-haired third year glanced around, pointing at herself when she realised Oikawa could only be talking to her. “Actually, I’m not their manager, I’m just here to-”

“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together.” Oikawa winked suggestively, ignoring how Ennoshita and Sugawara were using all of their strength to hold back the first year setter, who looked ready to maul him. “You free this weekend?” 

“Uh...” She sweat-dropped nervously, glancing around for help. Thankfully, Hinata came to the rescue, even without knowing he was being the dark-haired girl’s saviour. 

“Kageyama-san!” The bright first-year called out, glancing at Oikawa’s expression, which had morphed from a flirtatious one to a horrified one in mere seconds. “Kiyoko-san asked if you could help her with the water bottles?” 

Kageyama Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the gods out there for the blessing by the name of Hinata Shoyo. “Gladly.” 

“I found a Kageyama attractive?” Seijoh’s captain yowled in agony, getting dragged back onto their side of the court for warmups by Iwaizumi, who just rolled his eyes at his best friend. 

»»——⍟——««

taglist: @whootwhoot @owlywrites @hikari-writes (Send an ask to be added to the taglist!) 

»»——⍟——««

[i-desire-jake]

First meet (part 1)

Characters: Jake and female Mc

Genre: Fluff and romance

Summary: Everything's over except Jake and mc love which is growing more and more day by day. So fate decides them to meet each other.

-Oh man... I don't feel like cooking today, and I'm so God damn bored.

You huffed while lying on your couch on the weekend day.

-what should I do you think, and then an idea pops on your mind.

-Yeah, I should disturb him a bit. You grin cheekily at your idea and then grab your phone to text your love.

Yeah you will text Jake. It's been around two and a half month since Hannah was found and MWAF was caught.

You thought that Jake would immediately cut contacts with you after the case was over, but that didn't happen. Instead you both still text till today.

You both have confessed your feelings towards each other and he has even promised you that one day you both would be together. Jake is not the shy person which you thought he would be. Instead he is confident enough and his boldness is enough for you to give you butterflies and to make your knees tremble.

            _____________________

YOU

Hey Jake:)

How is my baby?

Jake is now online

JAKE

Hey beautiful <3

I'm good what about you?

YOU

I'm bored Jake -_-

JAKE

Wanna have some fun? ;)

YOU

Ugh! You and your dirty mind

JAKE

Only for you beautiful ;)

YOU

Baby, I miss you so much.

I so desperately want to meet you.

I want to hug you. Kiss you like there's no tomorrow. I want to be with you forever.

When will you come....?

JAKE

Hey love, don't cry.

Jake hacked your camera and saw you through it.

I have a good news.

YOU

You are free😲😲?

When? Where ? Time?

JAKE

Uh.....

I'm not free.

My pursuers are still after me.

But now this will only last for a few more weeks. I have figured a way to get rid of them and I'll soon be with you love.

YOU

Oh! That's wonderful😁

Can you meet me, somewhere please??

You can come at my house today. After all you'll get free soon, so you can roam around a bit right?

JAKE

I'm sorry love, today I'm busy a bit. So I can't come.

YOU

Oh

JAKE

Hey, hey. Don't worry. I will plan something soon and I promise you I'll do my best.

YOU

Thank you so much Jake.

JAKE

:)

YOU Elephants are jumping inside my stomach. I gotta go and eat something.

JAKE

Hehe

Bye beautiful  <3

YOU

Talk to you later love.❤

Jake is offline

________________________

Uh...

I don't want to spend my day on the couch.

You think for a bit to what to do next.

-I'll go to the restaurant, and get a take out. Then I'll enjoy my time in the park.

I should even visit the new botique by the restaurant.

You take a shower, then rummage through your closet searching for something nice to wear.

You wear a knee length yellow floral dress paired with white sneakers and a small hair clip on your beautiful beach waves.

You take a mirror selfie and immediately send it your man.

The picture effortlessly highlights your curves and your beauty.

One would be lying if they said that you don't look pretty.

Jake is online

JAKE

If I would have been there, then you  wouldn't be able to get off from your bed for the whole day.

Your cheeks blushed reading his flirty text.

YOU

Oh, really! I'd like to see😉

JAKE

Don't mess with me babygirl or you'll regret.

YOU

Bye babe 😆

JAKE

You really leaving after turning me on. That's not fair.

Jake is offline

YOU

Everything is fair in war and love babe☺

________________

JAKE POV

-God, that girl is really making me nervous. He mumbled before deciding to order food for himself.

Tring Tring. Tring Tring.

-Great now. Their home delivery service is closed today.

-Ugh! I'm really craving Chinese today.

 I should get a take out and come back quickly.

He mumbled to himself then went to his laptop to check the condition of his pursuers.

-Wow, I'm really progressing quickly. I'll be free soon. I can't wait to meet Mc.

-I should surprise her today with an unexpected home visit.

But wait.

Ugh.

She was going somewhere today. Ufff. Then tomorrow. And that's final.

He dressed in his usual black hoodie and a plain denim jeans then went to Chinese to fulfill his hunger for food.

MC POV

Hmm... this dress looks sexy. I should buy this.

You giggle at yourself then buy all the dresses you like and head to your favourite restaurant.

-I'm so glad they have elevators here, or else I would have died walking up to the sixth floor to the restaurant.

You sigh, then go to the counter to order your food. You notice a strange man dressed in all black ordering food for almost four people.

- Looks like that man really like Chinese.

You mumble to yourself then go back to the counter to pay for your food.

JAKE POV

- $120

-Sure, here.

He pays for his food in cash then start going back to the exit.

" Stairs under construction. Please use the elevator. Sorry for inconvenience. ⛑⛑"

- what the fuck!

Ugh..... Now I have to use the lifts.

Jake covers his head with his hoodie then enters the elevator with his head down.

He presses the the button for ground floor then wait for the elevator door to close. But before it could close completely, a woman sticks her shoes in between the doors the prevent it from closing.

Jake looks to up to see the person and gets shocked as hell when she enters the elevator and stands beside him.

MC POV

After paying for the food you rushes to the exit when you saw that the doors of lift were about to close.

Yiu stick your shoes there, then enters the little room.

"Thank God I entered on time or else I would have to wait for more ten minutes "

You glance on your side and saw the same hoodie man staring at you with wide eyes.

What's up with him. You think in your mind.

" I know I'm beautiful, mister. But if you would stare at me with that wide eyes then it may pop out"

You joke at the man who now seems embarrassed at his actions.

He clears his throat then look away. But his gaze is still on you. He observes your every movement like he adores you the most.

After a few minutes you notice that the elevator is going down really slowly. You must have reached down till now but you were still moving from 5th to the 4th floor.

- "isn't this lift to- aaahhhhhhh!"

You screamed loudly when the elevator started shaking rapidly and the lights were flickering on and off.

There was a loud thud on the roof of the elevator and you fell directly on the man beside you. If he wouldn't have hold you, you would have crashed your head roughly against the wall.

The lights went off and the room became dark. You started shivering with fear while still clinging to the man. He embraced you and patted your head a few times to calm you down. Minutes passed and then the  light came back.

You came back to your senses when you saw that you were hugging the stranger.

You immediately pulled back blushing and mumbling apologise

- "I....I'm so-....sorry"

- "It's okay beautiful" the man said with a smirk after seeing you blushing and stuttering

JAKE POV

Mc fell on me when the elevator crashed and started shivering. She really is a cute tiny little thing. Jake thought in his mind

When Mc let go off him, he saw that she was blushing like a tomato.

Wow, she looks so cute. I should tease her and see her reaction to a stranger flirting with her.

- "It's okay beautiful" I said after her stuttering apologies.

She blushed even more but then pulled herself together and said

- "Yeah, don't call me that"

- "Why not? You're beautiful so I can call you" I said smirking.

- "Uh....I should press the alarm button because we are stuck"

She pressed the alarm button a few times but it didn't work.

- "look what's written over there. It says the alarm is out of use. You should call that number which is given below it" I said pointing at the number.

I had no intention of staying in the lift forever, but if it's with my love then I can have second thoughts.

I took the phone out from my pocket then started disabling the cameras in the lift. I have already disabled the restaurant's camera before coming but not of the elevators. It's because, I never use lifts to change floors as they are too risky. But I was forced to use it today because the stairs were damaged.

I was in my own thoughts when I heard Mc yelling at someone on the phone

- "Yeah, what do you mean by 3-4 hours? You want us to die inside? I'll report you then you'll lose your fucking license. What kind of service do-"

Before she could shout more and make the situation worse, I snatched her phone away from her then spoke in a different voice "take your time but don't take too long or else we'll might suffocate here. Yeah thank you and please hurry"

I said to the manager then hung up the call returning her phone back.

- "Great. Now we are stuck here for an eternity"

She said in an irritating voice.

I should annoy and tease her more, I thought to myself then proceeded to my actions.

- "why are you worrying babe? You are here with a handsome man like me. Trust me I won't let you feel bored." I said in a flirty tone.

- "Stop calling me with those names. And handsome? Haha I've never heard a better joke. You look like an alien" She said 

*Mc in her mind- btw, he is really very handsome. Uh don't think like that for him*

- "What? alien? Me? I'm offended babe. But you can't do anything cause you are stuck here with me now"

I said, then took off my hoodie revealing me only in my navy blue tshirt.

MC POV

After his heavy flirting, he took off his hoodie showing him only in his thin tshirt.

You couldn't take your eyes off him. He was muscular and well built.

*Wow he's really something. Ugh stop drooling over her Mc. You have your Jake so no other men. But God he really depicts as I imagined Jake. Ocean blue eyes, shiny black hair and so nice-*" you were interrupted out of your thoughts when he again started flirting with you.

- " Stop staring at me, I know I'm handsome and hot but if you will open your eyes that wide then it will pop out" He said mimicking your previous words.

You cleared your throat and looked away saying " why did you removed your hoodie?"

- " Because it's too hot in here."

He said taking a step towards you.

- "yeah, wh-what do you think you're do-doing ?"

You stutterd at him backing off a bit.

Seeing you going back, he smirked and again took a few steps towards you until your back was pressed against the wall.

He put both of his hands beside your head and leaned a bit towards your face saying.

- "Are you scared babe? I won't do anything............without your permission "

You didn't utter a single word because you were completely shocked. Not by his actions but by yourself. You thought only Jake could make you blush and give you butterflies in your stomach with his flirty texts. But here this complete stranger is making you feel nervous as hell and you were blushing like a tomato.

- "Do you want to be my girlfriend? I promise I won't disappoint" He said leaning a bit more forward. Your faces were now only a few inches apart. He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear seeing your reaction. Your whole body got an electric shock just with a simple touch of his.

"*No, this is wrong. I only want Jake and no one else.*" You thought to yourself and then pushed him away from you.

- "Stay away from me, you pervert. And don't touch me. And for the record, I already have a boyfriend."

He knew well that you were talking about him but how little did you know that your love was this close to you.

- "Oh really?"

- "Yes really" you said.

- "Don't worry babe. I'm sure he won't mind if you'd flirt with me. In fact he would be happy" He said making you confused.

- "Oh yeah? You don't know who he is. And if I'd tell him that there was an alien harassing me in the elevator, he won't spare you."

- "Why? is he a police or a psycho who would kill me?" He asked amused.

- "Trust me he's not a police but he's much more powerful than them. And he's not psycho. So mind your own business and fuck off."

You said to him visibly angry. You can't control yourself when someone bad mouthed him.

- "Hmm.. looks like you really like him"

- "No. I love him"

He let out a happy chuckle then said "Now your boyfriend will say you to kiss me"

He turned around from your side then started doing something.

You ignored him, then took out your phone for time pass.

You saw Jake was online so you immediately went to his chat.

YOU

Hey babe :)

JAKE

Hi beautiful. <3

I'm offended.

YOU

Why? Did I do something wrong?

JAKE

You didn't kiss him.

YOU

Huh, what??

You glance at the man who was still busy with his phone.

JAKE

I love you too.

Then your phone started ringing. It was Jake. He never called you before, not after the case was over.

You quickly received the call.

- "Hello. Jake?"

Silence.....

The man beside you turned around with the phone pressed against his ear.

- "I love you too, beautiful"

The man said and the same voice you heard in your phone.

You were dumbfounded and shocked.

- "You know you look so pretty in real life. And you're so cute. Especially with that angry expression of yours."

Jake or the man in front of you whom you considerd stranger till now said to you in a sweet voice making you completely shocked.

A/N : okay, so I don't know how I feel about this. I think something's missing but I can't figure out what it is. So if you find any mistakes please tell me. I'll try to improve it next time. There will be one or two more part after this.

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Off to the Races | AU: Gangsters/Casino | Russel Adler x fem!reader

Summary: You were born for the stage. A natural dancer with all of your youth used for experience, you now find yourself as a showgirl in one of Vegas' top casinos, the SunDowner. Owned by, Russell Adler, a notorious gangster in the underworld who remains undercover to the public eye, business is booming. Doubly so when a mysterious promotion comes your way, launching you to the top stage...

Just when you thought your life couldn't get more interesting, just how crazy will things get when the old gangster handpicks you from one crazy life to another, to keep for himself?

Tags: Gangster Au, age difference

Warnings: This fic has no explicit smut or anything, but WILL contain some overtly sexual themes and suggestive content, strong language, and age difference bc y'all know me 😪 So reader beware!

Y'all thought I was joking with this post huh lol

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

You’d be surprised how much that little mantra has gotten you through.

Tonight, it comes in handy once more.

You scurry into place on stage, surrounded by an array of women around your age in exactly similar costumes. Glittering, skin tight leotards, sky high heels to pop out some ass, sheer mesh sections to show a little skin, and long, billowing feather accents mounted on your back and head for God knows what.

It’s your first night doing a showgirl routine at the infamous SunDowner casino, right here in shiny, shimmering Sin City itself. You’re one of three acts going on at the same time, all on different floors of the building. Your performance is taking place in the middle floor stage where the least amount of people are likely to see you, just in case you turn out to be a waste of a contract.

You take a look around you. The other women seem so confident… That, or they’re damn good at pretending. Makes sense, you think to yourself, everyone and their mother is a damn actor in this town. It’s all an act... When Shakespeare said “All the world’s a stage”, you doubt this is what he had in mind.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker booms, announcing the start of the show. The lights power on over head, blindingly bright as some oldie style song starts up. Something for the oldsters, no doubt. But then again… aren’t you too?

The curtains shoot to the side on the beat and you can feel yourself pulled into auto pilot. You’ve practiced this dance so many times, it’s like second nature by now. So you dance. You parade around, covered in glitter and somehow managing to not break your neck in these heels while you strut around and roll your hips and shake your ass for some drunk old men with all fourteen of the other women beside you doing exactly the same thing.

And while you preform... Somewhere, way way up on the top floor, Russell Adler, owner of this whole joint and a couple city blocks to boot, returns to his office after taking a walk through the gambling pits. He’s caught two hustlers tonight alone, both of which were dealt with… severely.

The Sundowner doesn’t take kindly to thieves, and neither does he.

He dips into a side room within the office space behind a covertly placed door into a soundproof room. Adler switches on the lights and takes a seat in front of a huge stack of tv monitors. He pours himself a glass of whiskey, and watches the live feed from his many surveillance cameras. These are to keep an eye on his dealers and pit bosses rather than the customers, contrary to what most may think.

Can’t be too careful in this line of business, after all.

The room is silent except for the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the large oak desk. He’s not one for glitz and garish glamour, but he is never without his four favorite rings.

They adorn his right hand, all made of polished platinum. Three are made in the shape of a thin, wound coil with some decorative knurling along the surface in a trapezoidal pattern, getting slightly thicker in size right up to the crown piece on his index finger. The largest ring features the hissing head of a viper with inset eyes made of two black diamonds.

Each ring is easily worth several thousand dollars, and not even close to the most expensive item on his person tonight, let alone in his wardrobe.

His eyes shift from left to right, scanning each screen quickly and judiciously as he taps and sips. For a moment, he lands on the showgirl performance. The quality of entertainment and the establishment itself is every bit as important as making sure everyone else stays in line and on their side of the house rules.

Adler checks the camera marker and notes that these are the new hires. Whatever he sees, he’ll make sure to cut them some slack.

Some.

One girl stumbles a bit, right there on stage. She’s out. Another girl brushes against the one beside her. Out. Then, towards the finale, two girls jump out of sync with the rest. He shakes his head and sighs. Where the fuck are his people getting these girls from?

He takes note of the ones he wants gone, then manages to swallow his frustration and watch the wrap up. Things end to light applause and before the curtain closes he taps a key on his board of switches to pause the feed. He counts up the dancers and take notes of each girl personally.

You know… Throughout that entire shit show, if memory serves, there was only one girl who hit all the marks.

Adler rewinds the feed and focuses on you in particular. He follows your every step and leap. Watching every move, studying every turn…

He was right. Perfect, throughout the whole routine. He reaches for his red phone and calls up the man in charge of the girl shows.

“Who’s the one in position seven, middle stage show?”

There’s a moment of silence and a rustling of paper before the other man replies with your full name, a little bit of your credentials, and the date of your hiring. “Something wrong sir?”

“Yes, send positions three, ten, eight, and twelve home. We have standards, for God’s sake”

“Of course sir-”

“And as for seven… I want her performing top stage next time”

More silence, and then a tentative, “...Yes sir”

Adler clicks the phone into the receiver and takes the last sip of his drink. Hmp, lucky number seven… His gaze lingers on you and your supple body only a moment longer. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip... then goes back to the rest of his cameras.

He’ll be interested to see if you can rise to the task he’s gifted to you.

When the last of your shows ends, you and the rest of the girls head back to the dressing room one more time tonight to get changed out of these contraptions they have you wearing. A stern looking man bursts into the room unannounced, he calls out four girls and sends them packing with no explanation given. His beady eyes scan the room and land on you, nearly giving you a heart attack as you brace to be cut as well.

“And you, seven… You’re performing in the VIP lounge next week. Don’t fuck this up”

And just like that, he leaves as quickly as he came, slamming the door behind him. The other girls turn to congratulate you, some bitterly, while you’re left reeling.

Playing the top floor, the “VIP lounge” is… huge.

Some girls perform here their whole lives and never get to see it. You’ve even heard that they hire foreign professionals, just to meet up to their standards. Up there you can make tips on top of your salary. Well, only for... private dances or pole shows, but still…

You go home that night wondering how such a thing is even possible, but soon decide to shake it off. Who cares how, all that matters is that the chance has come.

And you plan to rise to the occasion.

You spend your next two days off practicing and limbering up both with the other VIP dancers and on your own. Most of the women keep to themselves and you can tell they’re a bit resentful of your presence.

There’s no question about it, you’re the youngest one here and by default the least experienced. What gives you the right to be instantly promoted like that? If only you yourself knew.

Regardless, your first performance on the top floor is here before you know it. And things go… Fairly well, to be honest.

The routine is complex, but you can tell it’s been slowed down to give you a chance. The stage is bigger, the makeup more colorful, the costumes more revealing, and the lights brighter, and yet... you feel right at home. The nervousness has worn off by now and you’re a rising star on the stage.

After a few nights of proving yourself, you’re even hired for some private dances and given a chance on the pole.

The cash pool you take home gets bigger and bigger every night, and so does your audience.

But, for all the eyes on you, there’s one strange pair that bothers you the most…

You’re working a routine with the other girls tonight. The leading girl is out with a sprained ankle, so tonight you were given the honor to dance as the Primadona, front and center on the stage. You twirl and strut up to the front, the women behind you backing you up and mirroring your moves. They continue to spin and clear space in a geometric formation to give you room as you perform the finishing stunt.

With a deep breath of air, you perform an impressive high kick on the crescendo beat that transitions into a backwards somersault and ends in a split at center stage.

A roar of applause and whistles comes from the crowd of wealthy men and women watching you.

All except one.

You lock eyes with a lone gentleman sitting front and center at a round booth table in the dimly lit room. He takes a long drag on his cigarette and even behind his dark aviators you can feel his eyes on you. As though to confirm your suspicions, he lowers the glasses to the bridge of his nose, exhaling a plume of smoke as he stares directly into your irises.

He brings his cigarette back for another hit, the small flame highlighting a horrible looking scar that goes the length of his cheek, and as the curtain falls, his creased, glowing blue eyes are the last you see of him.

The truth is… Adler’s had his eyes on you ever since that first night on the cameras. Tonight, he came down just to see your show in person. You’re just as good as you are on camera. Perhaps, even better.

No... definitely better.

He’s been reviewing your track record as of late. You took ballet lessons ever since you were just four years old. Won several awards for dances and even some state level beauty pageants. Joined the dance club at your highschool and got a scholarship from it to put you through college. You’re trained classically, but it would appear the only jobs you’ve ever gotten are clubs, bars, and casinos just like this one.

Adler smirks to himself, thinking of your pretty young face as he takes another drag. Maybe you're not as innocent as you seem.

He can work with that...

[calunasteria]

please, xanny. | sanzu haruchiyo

"𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚."

- wherein sanzu haruchiyo falls in love. that's all. (i'm bad at summarising my stories, i'm sorry ><)

current word count: 3.1k

tw (throughout the series): mentions of drug use and abuse, manipulation (gaslighting) and toxic relationships, mentions of blood, death, and murder, rape (attempt), use of deadly weapons, slight nsfw (??) - kindly tell me if i missed one. thank you.

date started: 07/29/21 (wattpad) | 07/31/21 (tumblr)

date ended: -

01 ! please,xanny.

-

what was it? was it the alcohol? was it the food they ate earlier? maybe it was spoiled, or worse, maybe it has drugs? probably no.

 maybe she's just overthinking things.

maybe she's just imagining all of this.

to say that she's inloveㅡ no, cross that out, to say that he's inlove is dangerous.

but how is it that the sanzu haruchiyo, bonten's number 2, is making her feel numerous things?

he reeked of instability, insanity.

yet his touch was as soft as the cotton, gentle like the wind, it was comforting.

say....

have you ever known what it felt like to drive on highways, with gnawing trepidation?

to taste betrayal and fondness while running on an endless tunnel of vague roads?

to be loved by none other than sanzu haruchiyo?

-

"welcome everyone, to our company's afterparty, please enjoy yourselves for tonight!" honey dripping voice echoed throughout the wide spaced room that is decorated with some dimmed and flashing lights, shimmering crystals plastered on the wall, extravagant leather couches, and large, black speakers booming with music. her soft, delicate hands then set the microphone down, as her wavy jet black hair bounced and swayed as she walked down the stairs with elegance.

"nakashima-san, the director wants to talk to you, he said to head towards the VIP area, over there." a small voice beside the stairs managed to squeak out, catching the girl's attention and turning her head to the direction he pointed at.

"did he told you the reason why he wanted to talk to me?" she asked, voice filled with a hint of irritation and tiredness - the complete opposite of how she sounded earlier on the stage. the boy shook his head, then uttered 'excuse me' before dashing away from his superior.

the girl then just sighed and walked towards the bar counter, which is the complete opposite of the direction she was told to go.

"one grey goose martini and a plain cranberry juice, please. thank you." she ordered as she sat down.

"wow, you're actually gonna drink tonight, kasumi? are your shits finally getting to you, girl?" the lady beside her stated with amusement as she popped out of nowhere, a glass of whiskey found in her hand, still laughing and smiling drunkenly.

"yes, kaoru. where the fuck were you? you were supposed to be the one to speak up front earlier to welcome the guests, not me, because i was the one who arranged this. and now boss said he wanted to talk to me about something." kasumi vented to her friend while her friend's grin just got wider, further infuriating her.

"whY THE HELL ARE YOU SMILING KAORU I-"

"calm the fuck down, kasumi, don't let boss get into your nerves, okay? its just me, so inhale, exhale. nice! see, just go drink your shits and talk to boss later. maybe hand in your resignation slip, you know?" kaoru laughed while wiggling her eyebrows and hugging kasumi.

the two talked to each other for a while before kasumi bid her goodbye and stood up to head to the direction she was supposed to go to earlier.

her heels clacked on the expensive marbled flooring while her black silk dress hugged her curvaceous body, gently flowing while walking.

upon reaching her destination, there she saw her boss with at least 4 women whispering and flirting with him, one on his lap and 3 beside him, along side with his other friends and acquaintances. they both shared a glance momentarily as kasumi forcefully smiled to her boss.

"ah yes, everyone, excuse me for i have something to finish up with my personal assistant." her boss announced to all the people around him, making kasumi uncomfortable and embarrassed, by all the stares she accumulated and daggers she got from the women who was flirting earlier with her boss.

"let's go, darling." sentence uttered by her boss before they left the place with him grabbing her wrist, and oh heavenly archons how irritated kasumi was because of her boss' actions and words.

she was practically being dragged away the from the event area, their shoes resonating throughout the empty hallways that are connected to the parking lot when she asked him, "excuse me sir, but where are we going? i thought you said you wanted to talk to me?"

"hmmm, yes. that's right, don't worry, kasumi-chan, we're just going to talk while where on a late night drive, and it'll definitely enlighten you. now get in the car." he ordered with flirty yet stern voice but kasumi did not budge at all - she just stared in disbelief to her boss, anger bubbling up within her.

"kasumi, we both know that i don't like repeating myself, now do what i said, please."

"i'm sorry but i don't think i'll go with you since we can talk here. so just say what you need to say so i can get on with my life, thank you." she declared cheekily.

"i said get in the car, why are yo-" he blurted out with annoyance but was cut off when kasumi said, "seems to me like you don't have anything to say, well i have one, i'm resigning, kitamura-san, i'll hand the file tomorrow, so if you have any requests, tell them to your next assistant." then proceeds to walk away that made her boss snap.

rushing towards her with malice and anger, with his system being controlled by the alcohol he consumed earlier, he grabbed kasumi's hair making her stumble and lose her balance, while the towering man held her waist with his left arm and his right arm held her face forcefully, and whispered to her from behind, "that's what i hate about you, you're so fucking stubborn, you and your smart ass mouth, i hate it so fucking much makes me want to shove my dick down your throat to make you obey me, and cry you bitch."

kasumi had chills run down her spine when she heard her boss mutter those words to her, and when she felt him grinding on her from behind ㅡ the last string of patience she had snapped in half, all she can see was red.

she used all her strength to stomp on the man's foot making him clutch down because of pain inflicted by her stiletto, releasing his hands that grasped her smaller frame. her hands then moved swiftly with anger to slap the man before her, knees being lifted up to kick his crotch making him to finally crumple down on the floor, silently mumbling profanities under his breath containing hatred.

"the next time you pull that stunt with me, or with other girls, i'll make sure you won't have something called dick after that." she threatened, voice laced with venom as she tried to wipe the ruffles that ruined her expensive, dusk colored dress.

"don't think you'll get away with this, bitch." the man croaked out while standing up, eyes filled with animosity, but then falling on his knees once again when a sharp, solid whipping sound tore through his thighs, vermillion colored blood gushing out of the gaping hole that was shot, followed by his shrill, agonized wail.

"seems like you grew stronger these past few years, kasumi-chan." a familiar voice grinned, few meters away from her.

"haruchiyo." she whispered under her breath, astounded.

***

"kasumi? are you listening?" a soft feminine voice spoke out, breaking the deep trance the raven coloured hair girl was in - chasmic ebony eyes stared at the person next to her, embarrassment creeping up in her system, realizing that she hasn't paid any attention to the words and sentences that her friend was telling her.

"i'm sorry, kaoru. what were you saying again?" she apologized, tuning her attention towards her half eaten sandwich that she was munching earlier.

"i was asking you if you know that boy over there, 5 o'clock," kasumi whipped her head towards the direction her friend gave her, eyes landing on a somewhat familiar person - he had a medium length hair dyed with bleach blonde, eyes glimmering like precious blue zircon gem, long and beautiful eyelashes that highlighted his daring eyes and a noticeable black mask covering half of his face. he looked so serene among the vast crowd  filled with bustling people.

"sanzu?" she asked turning her head to her friend who's eyes sparked with curiosity and underlying suspicions.

"how'd you know him?" the petite girl squinted her eyes to her friend, making kasumi roll her ebony orbs. "i just happen to know his name. after all, he's in a gang, right? toman, i think."

"i wasn't aware that you know about gangs, kasumi-chan. perhaps you like their leader, huh." her friend teased earning another eye roll from her brunette friend. "i'm just kidding. its just that i haven't saw him without his mask. some people say he has nasty scar on both side of his mouth, and i don't know if its legit, but given the fact that he wears that mask, its probably true." kaoru shrugged and stood up to head to their class.

sanzu haruchiyo. he was definitely mysterious, kasumi mused, as she walked. he was quiet and he had a calm demeanor when he talks. they weren't close but they shared a small talk in the past, and usually its just about school, like each of their classes borrowing and returning some school supplies and other little things. she never even heard him speak more than 7 words. well, it wasn't a big deal, since she thinks that he's just an another person on this world who has probably their own shits to deal with. he was insignificant to her as she was to him. or so she thought.

their room was filled with silent mumblings, a heavenly boring stupor that kasumi tried to fight, heavily lidded eyes blinking slowly in the hopes of trying to understand their lesson - she was tired and sleepy and it was not long until their class ended, her mind being awakened once again like a newborn baby, because she's going home.

their house reeked of alcohol and despair, of cigarettes and sorrow - it was a hopeless sight. everything was a mess. kasumi then heard a faint coughing on their kitchen and there she saw her ill mother who's trying to wash the dishes with her frail arms, her thin and small frame found her daughter who rushed to her side to help her do the chores but then just told her to sit down and rest.

"mama, you're not supposed to be doing that. you're the one here who needs to rest, i can handle that. besides, where's papa?"

"he's out, i think. but don't worry, kasumi i'm almost finished. we can then eat dinner afterwards so you can talk to me about what happened today with you? you don't have work tonight, right sweetheart?" her mother's voice was definitely her haven, it was warm and sweet. "yes, sure." the girl replied, already at ease but then her phone chimed loudly, signaling that someone texted her - it was her co-worker that texted her he can't attend his shift, and was asking kasumi to be the one to replace him for the mean time.

what are the fucking odds.

her mother noticed the younger's change of emotion and asked, "who was it, sweetheart?" and it pained kasumi to leave her mother alone again but she needs to work. she needs the money. "i need to go, i actually have work since im covering for my co-worker's shift. i'll be right back, so make sure you eat your dinner. i love you." she kissed her mother on her forehead before she left.

***

"thank you, come again!" the girl chimed in, weariness evident in her voice. it was 2:30am and god knows how tired she was. this was supposed to be her day off but the universe just straight up said no.

"nakashima-san, i'm so sorry, you can now go, i'll take it from here on. please take this on your way home as a compensation for what you did to me. thank you! take care on your way home." her co-worker apologized, shyly smiling and blush evident on his cheeks as he handed her a plastic bag filled with some foods and snacks.

kasumi uttered her thanks, with a small smile as she went to change her clothes to go home already as all she wants to do right now was sleep and rest.

upon reaching the store's parking area for bicycles, she noticed that one its tires was flat. she sighed loudly, venting out her exasperation and frustration.

"well, guess i'll walk then. fuckkkkkk. this isn't my day huh." she groaned, muttering some profanities before going on her way home.

it was a chilly night, the breeze was crisp and wintry, with her trembling breath rising up forming a ghostly smoke, vanishing into thin air as she exhales. her whole body was quivering because her cardigan was too thin for this type of weather. kasumi hugged herself in hopes of warming herself up. the skies were tainted with midnight blue perfectly combined with the pitch black heavens decorated with gleaming constellations and stars, along with the dimly hanged moon.

her way home usually takes around 30-40 minutes with her bike, and around an hour and a half if one decides to walk. it was a peaceful and cold night not until she passed this one dark alleyway where there were 2 men laughing their asses off, and another one drinking away his life. kasumi paid no attention to the men and just picked up her walking pace to quickly get out of the picture when her left arm was sharply snatched by one of the men in the dark alleyway.

"hey pretty, wanna have fun with us?" the man grinned like a maniac, his yellow teeth visible and his breath smelled like rum and hostility combined together. the other men laughed like crazy while the last one ogled at kasumi's body.

"no, let me go you ugly bastards." kasumi snapped, snatching her hand away from the man, before turning away to run. she wasn't dumb to not pick up what in fuck was happening back there, so she tried to regain her composure by trying to find her phone to dial the number of her friend who's probably still awake by now to call for help when her hair was maliciously dragged backwards making her lose her balance only to fall on the ground and be dragged away. the plastic bag she was carrying along with her phone was now nowhere to be found.

only her hoarse cry for help was audible, she was too slow, too tired, too exhausted for all of the things happening to her - but her body was flailing so hard, trying to release herself from the man's tight grasp on her hair and it felt like its going to be ripped off her head anytime soon when they stopped on the same alleyway the men were previously drinking. "bitch thought she can get away with us, well let me tell you something sweetheart, we don't take no as an answer. plus you were wearing that thin-ass blouse,  you're trying to seduce us after all so let's have fun shall we?" the bald headed man smirked while he held kasumi down on the ground.

she was terrified, frustrated, and she's doing her best to try and fight them all away. she was able to slap and kick the two of them, desperation was highly evident as she frantically scramble to her feet but that was as far as she can go for she was violently punched and slapped before she fell down with her vision getting hazy, tears streaming down her face non-stop as she lost all her energy to fight. everything was becoming blurry and she was now just hoping for everything to just end.

she was so lost in her train of thought that she didn't even realize that the men who were trying to break and ruin her were now out cold, laying on the freezing ground while a man towered over them.

"stand up." was all kasumi heard when she snap back to reality and saw a figure standing before her, wearing an all black outfit - black jacket, black jeans, and a black mask. his straight bleach colored hair was neatly tied up in a ponytail too.

"stand up." sanzu repeated as kasumi tried to stand up, still shaken by what happened to her and the picture of the scene before her. kasumi then felt something drape over her shoulder when sanzu came near her, his mint and delicate masculine scent filling her senses.

"follow me." was all the boy said before he exited the alleyway leaving her all alone with his jacket that he gave her. following his footsteps, while tightly clutching his jacket, she saw a shiny, and expensive looking car few meters out the alleyway with sanzu standing near it, and as she got closer to him, she heard him say, "get in."

not wanting and not having enough energy to fight nor say anything, kasumi just silently obliged to what he said. after getting inside the vehicle, sanzu followed afterwards, turning on the car and driving to god knows where - kasumi was drained, and she couldn't care less what would happen anymore although she wanted to say and atleast utter her gratitude towards the boy beside her, but her voice just seems to be gone. the car ride with him was silent, but it wasn't awkward. it wasn't uncomfortable. it wasn't scary either, rather, it was surprisingly comforting.

moments later, kasumi saw a familiar house outside her window when sanzu pulled up and opened the door for her, handing her some of the things she brought earlier - her bag and her phone.

he didn't talk, he didn't say anything before heading out and going inside his car once again, and driving away.

kasumi was dumbfounded.

she have so many questions whirling over her head like, how did he know my place? why did he do that?

she entered their house with her head aching - cross that out, with her whole body aching, everything that happened to her this day had taken  a toll on her. she was definitely traumatized and shaken by what happened. with her literally dragging her body towards her room desperate to rest and lay down on the soft and smooth mattress.

and even though she was almost raped, and potentially murdered, the one thing that stuck in her head was sanzu. sanzu haruchiyo.

and she swore to find him tomorrow before she fell into a deep slumber.

[midnightseonghwa]

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐳 𝐎𝐧 𝐔 | 𝐩.𝐬𝐡

✕ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Solo Idol!Seonghwa x Staff!Reader 

✕ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Idol au and fluff 

✕ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3.7k+

✕ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cliche k-drama themes, Seonghwa is a solo idol, mentions of overbearing fans and some sneaking around. 

✕ 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Unedited

✕ 𝐀/𝐍: This was requested by anon! Well, welcome to the fandom once again and I’m very glad you decided to give my writing a try. Here is your very fluffy piece~~ I hope you like it! Do let me know what you think! ♥️ 

✕ 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: here 

✕ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @teeztheflag​

Girls and boys alike crowded in front of your office building, the eager fans holding posters and light sticks, their love for their idol drawn in hearts and love declaration as you stood against one of the windows, observing the entire scene.

"Some fans," Yeosang said, handing you a cup of coffee and standing next to you, "Are not sane."

You rolled your eyes, throwing your colleague an odd look before raising the small paper glass of mix-coffee to your lips.

"Let them be, idols exist for a reason," you replied and Yeosang hummed, sitting at the table and flicking through the schedule for today.

The crowd seemed to grow thicker as the security team started putting up barricades to prevent fans from trampling over people who were entering the building.

"Yeo?" You asked, turning to face your friend and colleague, the same one who told you that getting into the entertainment industry would be profitable and a good idea.

You've never listened to any of his ideas again...

"Who's on the schedule today?" You asked, setting the paper cup down and leaning over the small plastic folder Yeosang was looking through.

"Uh...we had a couple in the morning but the only interview left for the afternoon slot is..." he trailed off, flicking through the numerous pages before landing on one.

"Park Seonghwa," he said, finger, pointing to a name that was highlighted in yellow and marked as important.

"Park Seonghwa?" You asked, turning the file around to look for yourself.

"Yeah, it says so right here and look, you're on the interview staff," he said, tracing over your name with a blue ball pen that was in his hand.

"He finally agreed?" You asked, a look of bewilderment coming across your face before you re-read Park Seonghwa's name and then yours, written in the same line.

"It took forever but apparently boss managed to get his agency's approval," he said and you opened your mouth to say something when screams suddenly erupted, shaking the entire office building.

Out of the windows, you saw a black van pull up to the front, windows tinted black so that nothing from the inside was visible. The security team crowded at the front of the van, some holding back screaming fans while others were given the responsibility to clear the way to the front entrance of the building.

"(Y/n)!" A voice came from the door and you turned around to see San, another one of your colleagues calling you.

"Let's go! He's here!" He yells and you throw Yeosang a quick look before getting your jacket and id card.

"Good luck," he whispers, sipping on his coffee again.

"Thanks," you breathe out, "I'm going to need it."

The tray of water bottles felt heavy in your hands as you walked towards the dressing room that was currently being occupied by none other than THE Park Seonghwa.

You stopped at the door, hands trembling ever so slightly as you felt his famous aura literally suffocating you.

Raising your hand to knock, you steadied the bottles in your hand before the door was swung wide open by Seonghwa's manager, Jung Wooyoung.

"You are?" He asked, asking for your id to make sure you were part of the interview staff and not some fan who was stalking Seonghwa.

"(Y/n)(L/n), part of the interview staff. I've come to brief you and Mr Park about the interview schedule?" You said, catching a peak of blond hair moving behind Wooyoung before the smaller male moved over to cover the dressing room from your view again.

"That's perfectly fine, you can brief me and I'll make sure to relay the same to Mr Park," he said and took the tray of water bottles from you, handing to some stylist who was passing by.

"Uh, alright. Here are some of the questions that we have prepared. It's completely up to Mr Park if he wants to go through them or not. The interview will begin in a short while and I will be the one to escort Mr Park  to the interview room," you finished, handing Wooyoung some files with the questions along with a few more documents your boss had asked you to hand over.

"Thank you for the information, (Y/n)(L/n), you are free to go," Wooyoung said, turning around and shutting the door right in your face.

You stood there stunned, not quite sure how to react to the ever-mysterious Park Seonghwa that you had only ever got the privilege of seeing on the internet or tv.

Cocking your head to the side, you walked down the corridor and towards the main interview room.

Maybe the actual interview will be better?

Despite the soundproof walls of the interview room, you could still hear the fans screaming and it was starting to cause a bit of a headache for you.

"Hey," San said, nudging your side in a whisper, "Did you pass on all the files like boss asked?"

"Yeah, but Seonghwa's manager is oddly protective. None of the other managers I've interacted with has been so...protective," you said, fiddling with your fingers that were clasped in front of you as everyone set up filming equipment around you.

"Honestly, if I was Park Seonghwa's manager, I would be protective too. I heard that some fan even broke into his hotel room and stole his socks," San whispered, leaning scandalously close as if he was telling you some dirty secret.

"Oh..." you trailed off, a frown settling on your face before the camera crew signalled five minutes to shoot.

"That's my cue to go and inform Park Seonghwa's manager," you said, dragging yourself out the room and into the corridor.

Arriving in front of Park Seonghwa's dressing room again, you stared up at the black letters before knocking on the door again.

"Back so soon?" Wooyoung asked, arms protectively caging the door as if you were even interested in viewing the probably uptight and snobby celebrity who was sitting inside it.

"Well, it's been half an hour since I came and I'm here to inform you that there are five minutes left for shooting to begin," you said, not really interested in exchanging any more words with Wooyoung than what was required of you.

"I see," Wooyoung said and peaked into the room behind in before giving you a nod.

"Wait here while Mr Park finishes," he said and jutted his chin out to the opposing wall of the corridor.

"Sure," you said, lip twitching in distaste as you sauntered to the corridor wall behind you and leaned against it.

You were sure you actually waited those five minutes to shooting in the corridor, staring at Park Seonghwa's name printed over the door.

Clicking your tongue, you pushed yourself up the wall, raising your fist up to knock again when the door swung wide open and Wooyoung gave you a disapproving and irritated look.

"Someone should really teach you patience," he said, moving to stand beside you as the styling team filed out and lastly, the man of the hour, Park Seonghwa.

You had only ever seen him on tv up till now. The angled cheekbones that could probably kill with skin that seemed to be blessed by the angels, it was true; he really did look better in person.

Who would've thought...?

"If you'd follow me," you said, leading them down the with a sigh, the feeling of a headache overwhelming your senses completely.

Walking into the interview room, you saw Yunho, the interviewer and a dear dear friend of yours already seated on set, filming the introduction and opening.

San came up, holding up a mic as he hooked it up to Seonghwa backside before attaching the small black mic to the front of his shirt.

"Be careful," Wooyoung hissed and you could've sworn that for a second, you saw Seonghwa flinch.

But just as you imagined the whole ordeal, his eyes returned back to their previous look and the smile that he put on his face that your colleagues normally gushed about.

"It's done," San said, checking the mic once before moving away to check other equipment.

"I hope you've read the script. Best of luck," you said, trying to ease your own nerves.

"Thanks, maybe I'll need it," Seonghwa said, moving past you with a breeze of cologne that had you move back and really rethink your life decisions.

Had THE Park Seonghwa really just talk to you?

Did he reply to your empty greeting of luck?

San stared at you wide-eyed from the corner of the room before quickly turning away when you looked his way.

Perhaps, Park Seonghwa had some human words left in him.

Yunho started off with the basic questions, the concept for his most recent comeback, why that specific concept was chosen and all that jazz.

Throughout the whole interview, you were standing behind one of the cameras, holding the script and making sure everything was going according to plan when you couldn't help but shake the feeling that Seonghwa was unfocused on the interview, completely lose in some other universe.

Making direct eye contact with the interviewer was something every celebrity usually did; to show that they were interested and focused on the interview at hand but for some reason, Seonghwa's eyes kept flicking over to the camera you were standing behind, the action looking hidden and quick but you caught his gaze every time.

"It is all thanks to my shine-stars, my fans. I wouldn't be able to stand here today without them," he said, gaze flicking nervously over to you when the red light was blinking on some other camera.

You offered him a smile back to comfort him but that only seemed to unnerve him further as he stuttered over his words, his sentences coming out muddled and botched.  

Yunho did the closing, thanking Seonghwa for joining one last time before thanking the viewers who were watching from home.

The crew called it a wrap for the day, some of them extremely annoyed at the fact that Seonghwa couldn't keep his gaze focused on the correct camera. Most were annoyed about the long night of editing they would have to sit through.

"Hey," San said, handing you and Yunho a can of coffee, still warm to touch.

"Ah, thank you," you said, taking it from the lanky boy and popping it open.

"So, how was it interacting with the infamous Park Seonghwa," you teased, nudging Yunho in his stomach with a little teasing smile on your face.

"Millions of girls would be dying to take your place right now," you said, adding to tease the taller.

"I think...I think I overestimated Park Seonghwa's professionalism," Yunho muttered, taking a sip of the coffee before sighing.

"What do you mean?" You said, eyebrows furrowing at his words.

"I mean, you were there. You saw how unfocused the man was and if this is how he usually does his interviews, the crew must be doing a darn good job at editing him to look so top-celebrity-like," Yunho explained, San nodding along at his words.

"I'm sure he's had a tiring day," you reasoned, getting touchy out of nowhere about Seonghwa's professionalism.

"Oh, he definitely had a tiring day staring at you throughout the whole interview even when the signalled camera was another," San snorted, hiding his teasing smile behind his can of coffee.

You quieted down at his words, his intentions not quite hitting you right. Seonghwa wasn't staring at you...he couldn't have been.

An idol? As big as Park Seonghwa nervous and staring at a typical entertainment staff?

"Yeah right," you said, a laugh falling from your lips at how ridiculous San sounded.

"But it's true, even I-" Yunho started, only to quickly get shut down by you.

"Let's call it a night, boys," you said, thanking San for the coffee once again and then picking up your jacket before exiting the interview room.

The walk to your apartment was cold, the wind blowing hard as it whistled past your ear and into the freezing January. Your shoes hit the unruly pavement with a loud noise and you rubbed your hands together, trying your best to produce some heat.

It was almost midnight, the interview taking longer than expected with some hitches here and there with equipment, and you wanted nothing more than to just melt into your bed.

Snow hadn't fallen this year but the temperature had still fallen close to the negatives and you were one step away from freezing your toes off.

It was in these situations where you wished you owned a car or at least lived far enough to use public transport but the ambiguous distance to your house and everything around it gave you the option of none.

You crossed an alley, the yellow light of the streets hitting you in the face before you were stopped by a calling of your name.

"(Y/n)!"

The voice was whispered, but loud enough for you to hear it. It had a tone of urgency under it and currently, turning back to face this person was the last thing you wanted to do.

"(Y/n)!"

There is was again, the calling of your name by a voice that seemed horribly familiar.

"It's me!"

You stopped in your tracks, the voice clicking and it's owner clicking in your head until it was too late for you to turn around.

"Park Seonghwa?"

His name came out louder than intended and you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth and looked around, trying to spot any rogue paparazzi members.

You stepped further into the alley, hidden by the shadows of two buildings as you came face to face with a sunglassed idol clad in a white sweater and jeans.

"How are you here? Did you follow me? Does manager Wooyoung know about this?"

Questions after questions spilt from your mouth and at least Seonghwa had the decency to look a little bit shameful.

The male sighed, pulling his sunglasses off before facing you with his deep brown eyes that were just barely visible in the dim light.

"No, I didn't follow you here and no, Wooyoung doesn't know about this. I can't keep up with his nagging anymore," the male sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before leaning against the brick wall behind him.

"You didn't answer my first question. How and why are you here?" You asked again, trying your best to maintain some friendly distance in case you were ambushed by fans or the paparazzi out of the blue.

You didn't have the time or money for a scandal.

"I...I saw you during the interview-"

"Yes, I noticed. Actually, the entire crew noticed. You sure aren't subtle for a celebrity," you huffed, crossing your arms over your shoulders.

Seonghwa visibly blanched at your words, heat taking over his body as it turned his white cheeks a red.

"Uh...yeah, I-" he stuttered, rubbing the nape of his neck before shrinking into himself even more.

You watched the idol's personality take a full shift from what he was usually portrayed as, the strong, very in-your-face character and fewer words, letting his good looks and charisma do the work for him.

But here, standing in front of you in a dim alley with the cold January wind blowing, you saw the cold celebrity replaced with a hesitant boy, one who was probably just caught by his mother stealing cookies from the jar.

"It's alright," you smiled, feeling as if it was your responsibility to put Seonghwa out of his embarrassing misery.

"I'm sure the crew will do a good job at editing."

Seonghwa smiled back at you, his row of perfect teeth on display.

"I wanted to wait around for you but Wooyoung pushed me to go. Something about my image or whatever...but I...I really wanted a chance to just...talk to you," he admitted, visibly deflating at how inhumane he sounded.

You stood straighter at his words, the reality of him being in a completely different social status from you hitting you right in the face.

"But you're an idol," you said, the words coming out before you could stop them and you wished you could've at the way Seonghwa flinched at your words.

"Yes, yes I am..." he trailed off and offered you a weak smile, this one not quite reaching his eyes.

Silence enveloped the both of you in a bubble, the outside world muted and numbed.

"But I..." Seonghwa started, a bashful but determined tone to his voice.

"But I am human before I am an idol. So if I want to make friends and date then it's completely up to me," he finished, eyes shining as if he had some new scientific discovery.

"You're absolutely right," you said, feeling rather proud that he could come out and say those things, despite knowing how much backlash he was going to receive from his fans and company.

"And I would really like to get to know you," he said, trying his luck again before you tilted your head to the side, weighing your options.

"Then you best follow me," you said, walking in the direction of your apartment and then looking back at Seonghwa who had already slipped his mask and sunglasses back on.

"I haven't had these in ages," Seonghwa said, holding the crispy hotdog coated with powdered sugar, ketchup and mustard in his hand as if it was some kind of treasure.

"How long is ages?" You asked, curious about how someone could voluntarily abstain from heavenly foods.

"Ever since my trainee days...so maybe like four or five years now?" Seonghwa said, trying to count the years of his training and then post debut.

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets, jaw falling limp around the hotdog that was in your mouth.

"Four to five years of eating grass? For what?" You asked, tone absolutely exasperated, already feeling exhausted at hearing Seonghwa.

"At that time, it was my passion. To sing, dance and have so many people love you. I didn't quite realise how vile the entire industry was at that time," he admitted, taking a bite out of his hot dog before.

You quieted down, his words hitting you deeper than you thought it would. You barely knew this man, but somehow, more of him was exposed on the internet and you would be able to know him just by clicking a few links.

But how well exactly?

"So, Mr Park, tell me about yourself," you said, picking up a stick of fish cake and pouring some soup into a paper cup.

"I'd like it better if you just called me Seonghwa," he said, discarding the empty hotdog stick into the trashcan and picking up some chicken skewers.

"Okay, Seonghwa, tell me about yourself," you said, handing the lady at the stand some money.

"Why? You can just find out by going on the internet," he said, eyes curious but also slightly distant.

"But I want to know the real you. You said you wanted to talk and what better way for two strangers to talk than to introduce themselves?"

Seonghwa nodded, pulling a piece of chicken off the stick.

"I don't actually like jalapeno flavoured chips," he said, scrunching his nose up.

"Oh?" You asked, amused at the random piece of information he decided to start with.

"Yes, Wooyoung likes them and he was spotted buying them once and everybody just assumed it was for me," he said shaking his head while laughing.

"Continue," you said, ladling some more soup into your paper cup.

"Fans started giving me jalapeno flavoured chips at fan signs after that and I..." he trailed off, not quite sure of what to say.

He glanced warily at the lady at the stand who seemed disinterested in your conversation but you can never make out a prying ear until everything is exposed.

"Let's go, I know a place we can talk," you said, handing the lady the last bit of money before giving out your hand.

Seonghwa looked at your slightly perplexed before he slid his hand into yours and was pulled into the night by you.

The night air was crisp, the cold biting at your face and hands as you set the small blanket you had grabbed from your apartment onto the terrace floor.

"Are you sure no one will see us here?" Seonghwa asked, sitting down on the blanketed floor.

"I mean, see for yourself," you said, gesturing to the wide expanse of empty space that looked as if it hadn't been used in over a century.

"Fair enough," he said and pulled his legs into his chest.

"I take it you're not the most flexible?" You teased, taking a seat in cross-legged position next to him.

"No...that's one fact they got correct about me," he said breathing in the night air while marvelling at the city lights.

"You have no idea how boring it is being cooped up in my apartment. Like at least if I was in a group then I would have my members to keep my company but it gets so lonely sometimes when you're a solo idol," Seonghwa ranted, his nose turning a cute shade of pink from the cold.

"Well, after everything you just shared, I'd say we're friends now," you said, leaning into his side in a friendly manner.

"If everything goes well, I hope we can be something more," Seonghwa said, twisting his fingers together.

Your words got stuck in your throat at his confession. You literally saw him for the first time today!

"Hm...maybe if you play your cards right and don't accidentally out yourself first," you said, playing it off cooly.

"Does this mean you'll see me again?" Seonghwa asked, eyes hopeful, twinkle resembling the night stars above.

"If you promise to come and do more programmes with me," you answered playfully but the speed at which Seonghwa nodded almost made you want to kiss him there and then.

"Of course, as long as I get to see you," he said and you swore your heart almost leapt out of its chest.

You responded with a smile, placing your hand over his.

Seonghwa seemed a little taken aback by the action but turned his hand over to his palm and interlaced your fingers together.

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

Couples Costume

Sheriff Stilinski has the job of chaperoning the school dance when he realises his son is wearing one half of a couple’s costume and he wants to know who has the other half.

[AO3]

 “Jackson,” Sheriff Stilinski said warningly.

The young man jumped, snatching his arm back from the punch bowls and quickly hiding the silver flask behind his back as he turned to face the Sheriff.

“Hello, sir,” Jackson said, feigning innocence.

He flashed a charming smile, but it had no affect on John.

John levelled him with an unwavering look and he held out his hand, motioning for Jackson to hand the flask over.

Jackson bowed his head, looking guilty as he moved his hand from behind his back and handed over the flask.

“You can pick it up from the station tomorrow,” John said.

“What?” Jackson objected.

“I’m not going to let you spike the punch and I’m not going to give you back a flask of alcohol before you drive home?” John asked.

Jackson tensed. “Are you going to tell my parents?”

“Not if you don’t try this again,” John promised.

Jackson nodded.

“Now, go on,” John said, nodding towards the crowd.

Jackson hurried back over to his group of friends.

John shook his head, sliding the flask into the inside pocket of his windcheater.

He looked around the large space of the school gym. The large room had been decorated for the Halloween dance; with a canopy of white fabric and orange, purple and black streamers strung from the ceiling to make it look like a tent, strings of lights followed the curves of the fabric and trailed down the walls, and stacks of jack-o-lanterns that the students had carved.

There were a few tables set up around the corners of the room with orange table cloths draped over them and fake candles sitting in the middle of the table to light them.

Students moved around the space, dressed in costumes; standing in small groups around the edges of the hall, talking, or joining the crowd in the middle of the hall, dancing.

A familiar face emerged from the crowd, making his way over to John.

Stiles’ hair had been coloured with pink on one side and blue on the other, matching the eye shadow that Lydia had put on him. He had tattooed painted on him with eyeliner. He had a thick choker with silver letters spelling out PUDDIN around his neck.

He wore a pair of tight red pleather pants with a studded belt, a jacket that was split in half – one side red and the other blue – and a slightly torn tee-shirt with curved black lettering that read ‘Daddy’s Lil Monster’. The shirt was cropped short and slightly torn at the bottom, revealing a glimpse of Stiles’ toned abs and slender waist. To complete the look, he carried around a foam replica of the baseball bat from Suicide Squad.

“Hey, kiddo,” John greeted.

“I thought chaperones had to dress up too?” Stiles asked, looking his dad up and down.

“I did dress up,” John replied. “I’m a Sheriff.”

Stiles levelled him with an exasperated look.

“Forget about me,” John said, changing the subject. He pointed at Stiles’ costume. “Harley Quinn, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, looking down at himself. “I wanted the more classic red and black look, but this was all they had available.”

“Now, if I remember rightly, that costume was marketed as a couples costume,” John said, looking his son up and down. “So, where’s your Joker?”

“Poison Ivy, actually,” Stiles replied.

“Let me guess… Lydia,” John guessed.

“No,” Stiles answered. “She’s Daphne.”

“Daphne?” John repeated, confused.

“From Scooby Doo,” Stiles explained.

“Allison?”

“She’s Velma,” Stiles answered. “Lydia’s Daphne, Isaac’s Fred, Allison’s Velma, and Scott’s Shaggy—he’s even carrying around a Scooby Doo plushie.”

“Okay, so who’s your Ivy?” John asked. He waved dismissively. “It doesn’t matter—I want a photo of you two, so take me to them.”

“John,” Coach Finstock called out, making his way over to the Sheriff’s side.

Stiles swallowed hard. He turned to Lydia as she stepped up beside him, leaning in close and whispering, “Can you find Derek and give him the heads up; I’m being forced to out him?”

“On it,” Lydia said quietly, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Stiles felt his chest tighten, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt the lump in his throat swell. His heart beat faster as tears began to prick at his eyes.

He looked over his shoulder to see Lydia enter the gym again with Derek by her side.

Derek was dressed in a pair or red pleather pants and a corset-like deep green vest that was embroidered with light green thread in the pattern of ivy leaves with fake leaves of ivy sewn onto it to make it 3D. A vine of fake ivy was coiled around each of his arms, accentuating the curves of his firm biceps.

His sharp cheek bones were highlighted by a soft shade of green that matched the colour of his eye shadow. Lydia had used eyelash glue to stick fake ivy leaves to Derek’s eyebrows and red hair spray to colour his hair.

His face lit up with sweet smile when he saw Stiles.

“I’m so sorry,” Stiles whispered under his breath when Derek reached him.

“It’s okay,” Derek replied, keeping his voice low. “No matter what happens, you’ve still got me.”

Derek looked at him lovingly, his pale aventurine eyes sparkling in the glow of the string lights.

Stiles returned his smile, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

Derek took Stiles’ trembling hand in his own, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

Stiles drew in a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He turned back towards his dad just as Coach said goodbye and chased off after a student causing trouble.

“Dad,” Stiles started slowly, his voice tense and anxious. “This is Derek… My boyfriend.”

A look of surprise passed over John’s face as he looked from Stiles to Derek.

Derek offered his a smile, tightening his hold on Stiles’ shaking hand.

John smiled in return.

“You look great, Derek,” he said. “Do you mind if I get a picture of you two?”

“Sure,” Derek said, stepping closer to Stiles’ side.

He saw Stiles’ shoulders drop as he let out a sigh of relief. His hand was still shaking as he held on to Derek.

John dug his phone out of his pocket and quickly took a photo of the two of them. He smiled at them as he lowered his phone. “Thank you.”

“Do you want a drink?” Derek asked them both.

“I’m alright, thank you,” John replied.

“I’d like one please,” Stiles answered.

Derek nodded, giving Stiles’ hand a gentle squeeze before letting go and making his way over to the drinks table.

Stiles felt he sense of dread return, his chest tightening.

“I wanted to tell you…” Stiles said, looking down at his feet. “I was just… I was scared that you’d hate me.”

“Stiles,” John said softly, setting his hand on his son’s shoulder and craning his neck to look Stiles in the eye. “You are my son and I love you, no matter what.”

Glistening tears welled in Stiles’ eyes, lit by the surrounding lights. A weak smile turned up the corner of his mouth.

“How long have you two been together?” John asked.

“About eight months,” Stiles admitted.

“You managed to keep this from me for eight months?” John asked, stunned.

Stiles shrugged.

“I’m happy for you,” John said, smiling as he gently tousled his son’s hair.

“Thanks, dad.”

“Now, go have fun.”

 -------------------------

 A while later, John stepped out of the gym to patrol the halls and the outside of the building to make sure no students were sneaking off to cause trouble. He made his way around the side of the old red brick building and slowed when he saw Stiles sitting outside on a step.

He went to walk forward when he heard the door open and a familiar voice said, “Hey, you okay?”

Stiles turned slightly, smiling as he looked up at Derek.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I just needed a break from the crowd and the music.”

“Do you want some company?” Derek asked hesitantly.

“I’d love some.”

Derek stepped forward, sitting down on the step beside Stiles.

“Sorry I’m not more fun.”

“I’m having plenty of fun just spending time with you,” Derek said. He paused, thinking for a moment. “Do you want to dance?”

“I want to dance, but I just feel so overwhelmed in there,” Stiles admitted.

“Okay,” Derek said, digging into his pocket and fishing out his phone. He scrolled through his music library before picking a song and turning up the volume just a little. It was a slow song with a soft melody.

Derek rose to his feet and held a hand out to Stiles.

Stiles smiled as he took Derek’s hand, letting him pull Stiles to his feet. He pulled him closer, holding Stiles’ hand in his as he set his other hand on Stiles’ hip and began to sway.

Stiles let out a quiet chuckle as he rested his head against Derek’s shoulder, wrapping his arm around Derek’s shoulder as he swayed back and forth, following the sweet melody of the song.

Derek rested his cheek atop Stiles’ head as they danced slowly beneath the light of the back door and the streetlights along the car park.

John couldn’t help but smile as he watched them, a sense of relief filling his chest when he saw the smile on his son’s face.

  -------------------------

 “It’s time to announce the winners of the costume contest,” Natalie Martin announced as Stiles and Derek made their way back into the gym.

The crowd gathered around the small stage that had been set up at the far end of the gym.

“First up; the award for best dressed girl.” Natalie opened the envelope and read the name, “Supergirl; Erica Reyes.”

The crowd applauded as Erica made her way up onto the stage.

Natalie handed her a bouquet of flowers and a certificate.

Erica thanked her before making her way off stage.

“Next up, the award for best dressed boy goes to…” Natalie opened the next envelope. “The gladiator; Danny Mahealani.”

The crowd cheered again as Danny – shirtless and dressed as a gladiator – stepped up onto the stage to receive his certificate and flowers.

“And now for the best dressed group,” Natalie continued once Danny had joined the crowd again. “The best dressed group goes to—” She opened the envelope. “—the Scooby Doo gang; Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, and Scott McCall.”

The crowd cheered loudly as they made their way up onto the stage to receive their certificates and flowers.

They made their way down off the stage and Natalie picked up another envelope.

A buzz of confused chatter filled the room.

“And a last minute addition,” Natalie said. “The award for the best couples costume goes to—” She opened the envelope. “—Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy; Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale.”

The crowd roared with applause. A few people let out sharp wolf whistles.

Stiles bowed his head, trying to hide his blush.

Derek reached out and took his hand, leading the way through the crowd and up to the stage.

They made their way up the small flight of stairs and across the stage, accepting the certificates that read ‘Best Dressed Couple’ with their names written beneath the elegantly typed title and a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers.

Stiles smiled sweetly, sticking close to Derek as the crowd’s applause grew louder.

They made their way off stage and over to where Lydia, Isaac, Allison and Isaac stood.

Lydia bounded over to Stiles’ side, wrapping her arms around him as she congratulated him. Scott gave Derek a half-hug before hugging Stiles.

Stiles’ face was lit with a bright smile. He turned to face Derek, stepping closer to him and leaning against his side.

John couldn’t help but smile as he watched them—watched how happy his son was, watched the way his eyes lit up as he looked at Derek lovingly. He couldn’t help but feel happy for his son.

[livvibee]

Out of the Gutter

Pairing: Starker, minor Peter/OMC

Rating: Explicit (E)

Notes: Uhhh I apologize in advance for this one y’all. 😂

Length: 5.5k~

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Extreme Dubcon, Underage, Incest, Underage Drinking, Drug Use, Minor Violence, 

Read here or on AO3.

“Peter! Peter, this is amazing!” 

Ned’s excited voice knocked Peter’s attention out of the textbook he was reading in the library during an impromptu study session with MJ. Peter shrank in his seat, feeling dozens of eyes staring them down. He shot a pleading look at Ned and watched as he slowly exhaled, tension running out of his shoulders, before he slid into the seat across from Peter at the table. 

“Guys!” Ned whispered excitedly. “They came!”

“What came?” Peter stared blankly at Ned. 

Ned looked around furtively, leaning forward to be closer to Peter and MJ. “The fakes.”

Peter felt a jolt of excitement run through his body, sharing a conspiratorial glance with his best friends as Ned started to draw a plain envelope out of his backpack.

“Stop!” MJ hissed. “After school- Can we meet at yours, Ned?”

“Totally!” He replied, wide smile gleaming.

Peter practically vibrated in excitement through the last period of the day, shooting off a quick text for permission to his father, and sighing in relief when he received the okay just as the dismissal bell rang. It had been a rough couple of months since his Dad caught Peter red handed at a club (how was Peter supposed to know his Dad’s date would end up there?), drunk as a skunk, confiscating his fake ID and grounding him severely in response. Thank God Peter hadn’t been high that night, or he probably would still be grounded, or maybe even shoved into one of those stuffy private schools for misbehaving rich kids. 

Ned and MJ met up with Peter by his locker, and they walked to Ned’s house together, rocketing up the stairs to his room with barely a word to Mrs. Leeds. Once safely inside, Ned flipped open the envelope and pulled out the plastic cards, handing one to Peter who examined it closely. 

“Ned,” Peter gasped, “this looks incredible! It’s so much better than the last one!”

“Right???” Ned said incredulously. “They look just like a regular ID, I can’t believe my cousin managed to get ahold of these.”

“You know what this means?” Peter asked.

“What?” Ned said, still clutching his ID in hand and staring at it in disbelief. 

“It means we’re back!” MJ crowed. “Good luck to anyone who tries to confiscate these babies!”

Peter suppressed a wave of unease as Ned and MJ whooped together in excitement, before dissolving into laughter as Ned’s mother yelled up the stairs for them to quiet down.

Finally it was Saturday night and their plan was in action. Get to the club, become appropriately socially lubricated, dance, maybe even find a hookup, then get back to their beds before parents were awake in the morning. Sneaking out of the Tower would have been impossible (and boy had he learned that lesson the hard way one spring evening Freshman year), so Peter and Ned waited at the Leeds’ for his parents to head to bed. Peter helped Ned out of the window with a small grunt of effort, then swung down himself. All those gymnastics lessons were finally coming in handy. 

They met up with MJ at the subway station. “Hey losers, you rolling tonight?” Ned and Peter quickly agreed, receiving the pills from MJ before swallowing them down dry with the ease of long practice. The trio headed downtown, overcome with good cheer and giggles during the course of the trip, dressed in their finest babyslut getups. 

The fake IDs Ned had gotten from his cousin had scanned at the door as genuine, gaining them entry to the club and access to the bar, access they’d immediately taken full advantage of. Peter jumped up and down with Ned and MJ as the beat dropped and the bass of the song vibrated through his bones, feeling open and loose, in sync with the crowd and with the universe. 

“MJ! MJ!” Peter laughed, yelling her name over the music. “I’m having so much fun!” 

Her response was swallowed in the sway of the crowd on the dancefloor, lips unreadable in the flashing strobe lights and fog inside the club. Peter lost himself to the pure joy of dancing with his best friends, heart thumping to the beat, sweat dripping down his face, smearing his eyeliner and leaving tracks through the iridescent highlighter swept across his cheekbones. 

“Hey!” Ned grabbed at Peter and MJ’s hands, towing them toward the bar. “This round’s on me!” 

Peter could just hear him over the music now that they were further away from the DJ. Ned held his cash in the air, clumsily getting the attention of the bartender and ordering them all lemon drop shots. The trio clinked their glasses together before knocking back the sugar-sweet lemon-tart throat-burning liquid with the faint grimace and loud whoop. 

Peter bopped his way back into the crowd of dancers, happily grinding on anyone who came his way, uncharacteristically uncaring about looks or even gender. The overwhelming urge for touch was fully upon him as he exchanged sloppy kisses and careless caresses with any number of partners, letting himself be passed around the dancefloor in a blur, like some glittery party favor. 

Several rounds of dancing and shots later, and Peter felt great. Better than great. Fantastic even. So what if everything was a little blurry around the edges? So what if he wasn’t absolutely sure where Ned and MJ had disappeared to? Peter was having the time of his life, everything was right with the world! He was sweet sixteen, flush with liquor and lust, and from the look of the guy eyeing him from across the dancefloor, attractive enough to fuck.

Peter shimmied his way through the bouncing crowd with loose limbed moves, catching the eye of a dark haired man with attractively trimmed facial hair. (Didn’t that remind him of someone? Peter pushed the thought away impatiently.) Peter’s heart was beating out of his chest as they made eye contact, blue eyes catching on brown. Everything slowed down for a moment, the music fading into the background as Peter looked the man over, taking in his muscular arms and trim waist, eyefucking him from head to toe as the lights flashed through the haze. 

“Hi!” Peter yelled above the vibrating beat, watching the man’s lips as he returned the greeting. He didn’t waste any time, turning around and leaning back against the man to grind his ass against him on pure animalistic instinct, craving the pressure against his skin. The man’s hands came down to rest on Peter’s hips, pulling him into an energetic rhythm that matched the beat vibrating through Peter’s bones. 

Fuck, it felt so good to let go. To let the stress and expectations of being Tony Stark’s son and protégé drift away from his shoulders, disappear under the haze of molly, alcohol, and raw desire clouding his mind. Peter lifted an arm and wrapped it behind the man’s head, pulling his face down to Peter’s exposed neck. Score, the guy took the hint and started sucking livid marks into Peter’s pale skin, fueling the pool of liquid heat collecting in his core. The man’s hands travelled up and down Peter’s body, running over the front of his silky mesh shirt, sending a wave of shivery sensation through his skin. His fingers plucked against Peter’s sensitive nipples, dug hungrily against the dips of his defined abs, groped the sides and bottom curve of his ass. 

“Do you know somewhere more quiet we can go?” Peter yelled, spinning around to face the man, who grinned lecherously and nodded, pulling Peter with him through the crowd. 

They squeezed their way out an emergency exit in the back of the club, hands frantically rubbing whatever parts of the other could be reached, Peter’s mouth being enthusiastically penetrated by the man’s tongue as they kissed. Peter slammed the man against the wall, drinking in his noise of shocked surprise before dropping to his knees right there in the dirty alley. He could feel the grit of the city underneath his knees, even through his tight black jeans, and relished the grounding sensation to counteract the floating in his head. 

The man eagerly unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock, flopping it right in front of Peter’s face. His mouth was watering, senses overwhelmed by fresh sweat and masculine musk as his lips parted to take the man inside. Peter hummed happily, palming himself through his jeans as he gently sucked, bobbing his head back and forth and licking around the tip. 

“Fuck, your mouth-” The man gasped out, grabbing at Peter’s sweat soaked curls with shaking hands. 

Peter grinned around the man’s cock. All those hate fueled hookups with Flash Thompson had been good for something after all. Peter lost himself in the rhythm and feel of skin against his tongue, sucking harder and groaning at the salty taste of precum, neglected dick throbbing inside his pants. He groped blindly for the man’s leg and pulled it between his thighs to grind against it.

“Oh, that’s it. Fuck you’re a greedy lil thing, that’s right baby, suck that-”

“Hey! Asshole!”

Peter froze around the man’s cock before pulling off with a sloppy pop. Oh shit. Oh no. Oh my God, oh no, oh fuck, oh shit. It couldn’t be. There was no way. Peter screwed his eyes shut as he felt a familiar hand grab at the back of his neck, sending a slow roll of pleasure down his spine, and pulling him up and back from his kneeling position. 

The hand disappeared and there was a dull thud before a series of protests started. “Woah man, ow, what the hell?”

Peter was still half crouched, quivering in shame as he listened to the response, which was growled with menace. 

“I’m going to give you one chance to get the hell out of this alley before I separate your head from your spine.” 

The resulting silence was broken by the sound of rustling fabric, a zipper being closed, and rapid footsteps in the opposite direction. 

“Peter Anthony Stark.” That disappointed voice was like a bucket of ice dousing his lust, better at sobering him up than any greasy burger ever could be. 

“H- Hi Dad.” Peter stammered, looking up at his father, who was dark eyed and puffed up with rage. 

Tony held up his hand, silencing Peter with the familiar gesture. “I can’t believe we’re doing this again Peter. You didn’t learn the last time I had to pull you out of the gutter?”

That peculiar combination of shame and anger rose inside Peter, choking him, contributing to his sputtered denial. “I- I- I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean to-”

“You were doing exactly what you meant to do. Like you always do.” Tony’s voice was tight as he stared down at Peter, hands clenched at his sides. “Kid, I can’t stand by and watch you self-destruct the same way I did.”

Peter shot to his feet, sudden fury winning out over the embarrassment of being caught with a cock halfway down his throat. “I’m just trying to have a little fucking fun! What I’m doing is nothing like what you did! Newsflash, Tony, we’re not the same person, no matter how often you act like we are.”

The echoing crack of the slap across Peter’s cheek seemed to catch them both by surprise. Peter rubbed his cheek in shock, wide eyed and slack jawed, watching Tony’s still raised hand with utter astonishment. 

His father was huffing and puffing like he’d just run a marathon, chest heaving, breath rasping in his throat as he spoke. “You think this is cute Pete? You think this is fun? All this acting out? It’s like you’re six again and throwing a tantrum, screaming out for Daddy’s attention. Well “newsflash” kiddo, you’ve got my full attention now.”

Peter was still speechless, his father had never hit him before. He’d never even been spanked as a kid, let alone slapped. “You- you hit me,” he said, rubbing his smarting face. 

Tony’s jaw tightened as a grudging laugh slid out from between his teeth. “Talk shit, get hit kid. Unfortunately you’re a little old for me to take over my knee. You’re lucky for that, or you wouldn’t be sitting down for a week after this stunt you pulled tonight. You wanna know how I knew you were here? The social media alerts I have set up on you started going crazy, Peter. Practically the whole city knew you were here, grinding like a slut on some stranger, getting drunk and God knows what else.” 

Peter’s vague noise of protest died in his throat as he thought of tomorrow's headlines. He looked at his father desperately. “I didn’t mean-”

“No,” Tony interjected, “I don’t want to hear it. Save your excuses.” Peter gasped as his father grabbed him with an iron grip by the upper arm, and started hauling him out of the alley to where a familiarly discrete black SUV was idling by the sidewalk. “Get in, and don’t think we’re done with this conversation.”

Peter opened the door and blanched to see a hangdog Ned and wide eyed MJ already in the back. He blushed fiercely as MJ’s perceptive gaze passed over the livid handprint on his left cheek. The ride to drop off his friends was silent, the teens not daring to speak to each other as they each reached their destinations, with only dreading looks exchanged. Even that brief contact brought a sideways and threatening look from Tony, daring them to talk at their own risk. Finally the vehicle was empty, but the silence still weighed heavy on Peter’s nerves. 

“Dad…” Peter spoke into the quiet, voice cracking on the single word. 

“Not now Pete, I’m driving.” Tony’s voice was still rife with irritation, and Peter’s mouth snapped shut in response. 

The utter stillness continued as Tony parked, and as they rode up the elevator to the penthouse. Peter fidgeted nervously the whole way, unable to keep still as the tension rose. He was still rolling, running his hands up and down his thighs, unable to keep still as the urge to touch and be touched seized his body. 

“What did you take?” Tony’s voice was firm as they walked into the living room, not leaving any room for excuses or prevarication. 

“Molly.” Peter muttered to the floor, unable to meet his father’s eyes. He flinched and gasped as his father’s hand lifted his chin, forcing him to make eye contact.  

“Want to try that again kid? What did you take?”

Peter quivered under Tony’s laser sharp gaze. “M- molly.”

Tony’s sigh of disappointment cut into Peter like a knife. The ride back across the city had cooled his righteous indignation, leaving only the shame behind. Peter looked back to the floor, pulling away reluctantly from his father’s hand. 

“I am so incredibly disappointed in you Peter. I’ve always tried to be open with you about my struggles with substance abuse, and hoped you would learn from my mistakes and not repeat them. You can consider yourself on lockdown, no phone, no friends.”

Peter kept looking down at the floor, the film of tears he’d been battling since the slap prickling in his eyes. His dad was right, Peter had really fucked up tonight, in a spectacularly visible way, and so soon after gaining privileges back. “I’m sorry…” Peter whispered. 

“I don’t believe you Pete. I can’t trust anything you say right now.”

Tony’s words stung worse than the slap had. “That’s not fair!” It burst out of Peter’s mouth before he could think twice.

“You think that’s unfair?” Tony scoffed. “Trust me, you’re going to be learning a big lesson on what’s fair and what’s not. Just- Go get ready for bed. I can barely even look at you after what I saw tonight.”

Peter was suddenly furious again, hurt boiling over, too hot to consider the effect of his words. “Is that what Howard told you? After your first sex tape leaked?” He looked up with fire blazing in his eyes to note with satisfaction how his father’s jaw had dropped. “Guess what Dad, I’m not a little kid anymore. So what, I like to suck dick.” Peter jutted his jaw out defiantly. “From what I’ve seen, that apple sure didn’t fall far from the tree.” 

“Bed!” Tony practically roared, eyes flashing, pointing toward Peter’s room. 

“Fine!” Peter shouted back, stomping down the hallway with the full power of his favorite Docs. He stormed into his room, slamming the door and hearing the answering shout echo down the hallway. Peter was most of the through angrily stripping, standing in his socks, bare chested with just his black briefs on by the time the door flew open. “Dad!” He yelped, “I’m changing!” 

“Don’t care, as you so clearly pointed out, nothing I’ve never seen before.” Tony’s voice was clipped with irritation. “Finish getting ready for bed.”

Peter practically ran into the bathroom and slammed that door shut too, locking it behind him. He collapsed onto the cool tile floor, chest heaving with frustrated sobs as the doorknob jiggled.

“Unlock the door Pete. I don’t trust you being alone.”

“Fuck you!” Peter hissed venomously through the door. Dead silence was the answer, instead of the explosion Peter was goading for. 

“JARVIS,” Tony enunciated clearly, “unlock Peter’s bathroom door, override code, ‘Daddy knows best.’”

Peter gaped at the door as it audibly unlocked and swung open and his father stalked inside.

“You want to act like a child Peter? I can treat you like a child!” Tony was clearly still furious, eyes flashing down at Peter who was huddled on the bathroom floor by the sink. “Stand up!”

“No!” Peter shouted back, foot kicking down on the floor in defiance.   

Tony reached down and hauled Peter up from the floor, hands under his arms like he was nothing more than a little kid. Peter kicked and struggled the whole way as he was deposited to sit on the counter by the sink. “Stay there!”

Peter huddled in on himself miserably, feeling exposed and small, shivering in his briefs and socks as the cool marble sunk in through the fabric. He watched in confusion as his dad pulled Peter’s toothbrush and toothpaste from the medicine cabinet, getting the toothbrush wet under the faucet and squirting toothpaste on the bristles. 

“Open.” His father’s voice didn’t leave room for argument, but Peter resisted, giving in to the childish urge to shake his head with his lips pressed tight together. 

Tony caught Peter’s chin with one strong hand and pinched at the hinge of his jaw, forcing his mouth open. Peter squawked in alarm as his body followed Tony’s whim instead of his own will, spluttering as his father firmly inserted the toothbrush into Peter’s mouth. 

“Dad! Stop!” Peter’s whining protests were garbled by the toothbrush as it slipped and slid roughly over his teeth and gums, spreading an intensely minty taste. 

“Can’t believe I found you in some alley on your knees, gonna clean out that filthy fucking mouth of yours.” Tony was growling aggravated nonsense as he scrubbed harshly inside Peter’s mouth. “Down in the gutter sucking off some Tony Stark knockoff while the real one is at home worried, you think your life is unfair?! You think I like watching you disobey and disrespect and self-destruct?”

Fat tears were swelling up in Peter’s eyes, the ghostly ache of the earlier slap making itself known as his father’s strong grip pressed into his cheek, keeping his mouth vulnerable and open. As Tony continued brushing across Peter’s teeth those tears started running down his face in streams as he hiccupped and choked around the toothbrush invading his mouth. The foam that had built up was dripping out of the corners of his lips and down his chin. 

Peter tried to fire back around the intrusion, he wasn’t disobedient or disrespectful or self destructive, he wasn’t! He just wanted to have a little fun. All Peter succeeded in doing was sobbing miserably and disgustingly leaking out toothpaste onto Tony’s hand. He'd never felt so achingly vulnerable, not when Flash first pushed him against the lockers and forced him to his knees, not the first time his father had caught him trying to sneak out of the tower, not even when the paparazzi caught up with him after a particularly bad day at school, sobbing his sorrows out over his mother’s grave. 

Tony let go of Peter’s jaw and maneuvered him sideways over the sink by his shoulder. “Spit.” 

The touch against his bare skin rocketed tingles down Peter’s spine and to his- Oh no. Peter sputtered the foam out of his mouth into the basin, chest heaving with shame. Why was- How could he be? The more he thought about it, tried to unravel his feelings, the harder his dick throbbed between his legs, tenting the dark fabric of his briefs. 

Drowning in confusion, Peter felt utterly unmoored as his father let go of him, turned on the taps, and cupped his hands underneath to catch the water. 

“Rinse.” Tony said flatly, holding his hands up to Peter’s lips. 

Peter shook his head frantically, needing something, needing just a minute to think- To calm down-

“Rinse!” Tony snapped. 

The roiling combination of shame, panic, and desire bubbling in Peter’s stomach erupted. He shoved his father’s hands away, spilling water all down his chest and stomach. “I’m not a child,” Peter shouted as he tried to swipe the cold water off his skin, “and I don’t know how to prove it to you!”

Dead silence was his only answer. 

Peter looked up in confusion from where he’d been glaring at the floor, waiting for the reprimand for losing his temper. Aw fuck. His dad was staring straight down at his hard-on, which was pointing proudly toward the ceiling like it had nothing to be ashamed of, like everything about popping a boner in this situation wasn’t completely wrong.

“I can see that,” Tony finally replied in a coolly interested voice, anger still present but iced over by something- Something else Peter couldn’t identify. 

Peter started to curl defensively into a ball on the counter, but was stopped by Tony’s hands coming down to rest on the tops of his thighs, fingers splaying out across his sensitive skin. He gasped as the touch set off another rolling wave of pleasure to his core that left goosebumps in its wake, sent shivers up his chest, hardening his nipples to little brown peaks. 

“You wanna prove you’re not a little kid Petey?” 

Peter had never heard that tone in his father’s voice before. “Dad?” He asked in a small voice, head spinning, confused beyond belief, heartbeat racing. 

Tony leaned in and nuzzled at Peter’s neck, rubbing his goatee against Peter’s pulse as his hands traveled slowly up Peter’s thighs. Peter gasped out a shocked moan as the prickly sensation sent heat blazing straight toward his throbbing dick. 

“What?” Peter panted. “I don’t-”

“Shhh,” Tony soothed against Peter’s skin. “Isn’t this what you want? To prove to me you’re old enough?”

Peter tilted his head back against the mirror and parted his suddenly dry mouth. “I- I guess-”

Tony dragged his lips up Peter’s neck and to the shell of his ear. “Good boy,” he said crisply before fitting his mouth against Peter’s and squeezing down on his thighs, digging his nails into Peter’s pale skin. 

Peter’s reflexive protest that he wasn’t a boy was swallowed up by his father’s lips and probing tongue, and turned into a moan deep in his throat as fireworks sparked off under his skin. Though he’d thought the kiss from the stranger earlier that night was good, it was nothing compared to this all consuming experience. Tony’s nails slowly scratched up Peter’s thighs toward his aching cock, making him whimper helplessly into his father’s mouth. 

Breaking the kiss and laughing cruelly at Peter’s confused whine, Tony traveled down Peter’s body with his lips and teeth, nipping sharply and sucking at his pebbled nipples, drinking in the sound of his son’s shocked gasps and moans. 

“Wait, no- You can’t- Dad!” Peter cried out as Tony reached his goal, and mouthed lightly at Peter’s hardness through the cotton of his briefs, sucking at the dot of precum that had dampened the fabric by the tip of his son’s dick. 

“Has anyone ever done this for you before?” Tony asked, looking up at Peter and ignoring his protests.

Peter shook his head wildly back and forth, looking down at his father with wide eyes. “I- I’m usually the one who-”

Tony grinned wickedly up at Peter, then tugged impatiently at the tight elastic waist of his son’s briefs and pulled it down past Peter’s hips and ass, freeing his erection to bob fully in the air. Laving at his son’s leaking tip with a practiced tongue, Tony sucked Peter’s dick into the wet heat of his mouth. 

“Ah- Hah-” Peter was beyond words as his father bobbed his head up and down. He curled around Tony as he was completely overwhelmed by the sensations, by the silken tightness surrounding his cock, by the agile working of his dad’s tongue around the tip on every upstroke. 

Peter lost track of time as waves of pleasure lapped in his core, radiating out to all his limbs, tingling at the base of his skull. He could feel his balls drawing up and tightening, and couldn’t control the rocking of his hips, the perverse urge to fuck up into his father’s mouth. 

Pulling off Peter with a wet slurp, Tony tugged him forward off the counter until his feet met the floor, and flipped him around roughly by the hips, tugging his briefs down all the way to the floor. He stopped to give the perfect roundness of Peter’s cheeks a series of wet nips as he stood, before tucking his head over his son’s shoulder, and meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

Peter’s irises were almost invisible, swallowed by the black of his enlarged pupils, surrounded by smeared eyeliner and accented by sooty tear tracks down his cheeks. His eyes grew impossibly wide as he heard the metal of his father’s zipper being undone, and felt Tony’s hardness nestling between his bare cheeks, hot like a branding iron against his skin. It felt huge. Tony flexed his hips forward, making Peter hiss as the head of his father’s cock nudged against his virgin hole. 

“Dad,” Peter began, voice breaking off as Tony ground against him again, making him throb with empty want and abject terror. 

“Yeah Petey?” Tony grunted as he rooted through the medicine cabinet for something slick, hips rutting forward over and over, rubbing the tip of his dick across Peter’s asshole with increasingly slippery thrusts. 

“I- I don’t feel so good.” Peter’s head was back to spinning and his heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, even as the slide of skin on skin sent electric sparks shooting though him. 

“Shhh baby,” Tony cooed, opening the jar of coconut oil he’d found. “It’s about to feel really good.” 

Pulling back, Tony slicked up his cock with the oil, spreading it with a series of wet schlicks that echoed dimly in Peter’s ears. Peter gasped weakly as his father’s now slickened cock resumed rubbing against his hole, pressing inside ever so slightly with every pass. 

Dad!” Peter cried out. 

“What?” Tony bit out.

“I’m scared,” Peter confessed in a small voice.

“You getting scared like a little kid Petey? Tony mockingly caressed Peter’s hair. “Afraid of what you don’t know? What’s next, you gonna be afraid of the dark again, need me to tuck you in, need a nightlight?” 

“‘M not a little kid,” Peter shot back in a watery voice, holding back a confused sob. Everything felt so good, felt so bad, he just wanted so badly to be touched, just maybe not- Maybe not like this. 

“Just relax, you’ll be fine.” Tony pushed forward again, gripping Peter’s hips and using the leverage to keep constant pressure against the ring of muscle that clung tightly to the tip of his cock. “Fuck baby,” Tony grunted, slowly forcing himself inside of his son. “Been waiting for you to grow up a little, out sucking on lookalikes when you could have been here sucking on me instead.”

Peter cried out as Tony’s dick slowly slid inside his clinging hole, bringing with it a stinging ache that radiated out to his lower back and thighs. “Stop! Dad, it hurts-”

Tony reached around and tugged at Peter’s cock, which was still hard enough to pound nails. “Can’t hurt that much.” He said dismissively before returning his hands to Peter’s hips, holding him in a bruising grip. “Now shush- Man up,” Tony grunted as his hardness forced inside fully, “and stop your whining.”

Tears were welling up in Peter’s eyes again as the pain built, feeling like his insides were rearranged inch by searing inch. He started crying again in earnest, fresh tracks tracing down his cheeks as Tony pulled back glacially slowly, then slid home again, pulling on Peter’s hips for leverage as Peter clung to the bathroom counter for support, fingers scrabbling against the cool marble surface. 

“You wanted to play grown up games, you’re going to win grown up prizes,” Tony said breathlessly as his strokes increased in speed, balls slapping rhythmically against Peter as he experimented with the angle of his thrusts. 

“Oh!” Peter warbled as his father’s cock brushed against his prostate. “Fuck- Fuck!”

Tony grinned sharkishly in the mirror. “There we go,” he crowed, and added power to his strokes, mercilessly grinding his shaft against Peter’s stinging rim with every push, hammering against his sweet spot. 

“Dad-” Peter sobbed, pain and pleasure mixing up in his system like a hurricane, dick leaking where it hung between his thighs, drooling a long shining string of precum toward the floor. 

“That’s right Petey, you take this cock,” Tony growled lowly. 

As the minutes passed, the stinging was beginning to subside, leaving only lapping waves of warmth in its wake. Peter could see his body glistening with sweat in the mirror, curls plastered down to his forehead as his sobs turned into hitching moans. He was beginning to lean back into the thrusts, pushing his hips and arching his back to meet his father’s powerful pumps. Peter reached between his legs and grasped his aching dick, hissing in pleasure as he spread slickness from the tip down to his balls and back up again, jerking himself with fervor. 

Leaning his head down to pillow on his braced arm, Peter moaned quietly, “Dad?”

“What?” Tony panted between flexes of his hips. 

“Can you- I need-” Peter’s body quivered as he tried to speak. 

“Adults use their words,” Tony said harshly as he reached up and pulled Peter’s head back by his hair, forcing him to make eye contact in the mirror. “What do you want?”

“Please, fuck me harder!” Peter blurted out, flushed cheeks darkening with shame as he watched his father’s face. 

Tony laughed darkly and let go of Peter’s hair, letting his head fall back down to his arm and resuming his clawing grasp on his son's hips. “Who knew I raised such a fucking slut?” 

Peter gasped in shock and stroked himself harder as Tony’s thrusts sped up to a blistering pace, moaning like a cheap whore as his father’s cock pistoned in and out of his hole, slamming against his sweet spot on every stroke. His balls were tight with need, the heat in his core raging like a wildfire. Peter just needed- He didn’t know what he needed, but he needed it soon, he needed it like, now; he needed it like, yesterday.  

“You like that baby boy?” Tony reached in between their bodies and traced Peter’s reddened rim with his fingers before slowly pressing in a single digit, stretching Peter’s hole even further. 

Peter cried out fiercely as his ass began to burn again, white heat overtaking his vision.

“You like being all grown up?” Tony asked breathlessly. “You like being Daddy’s big boy slut?”

His father’s words hit Peter like a bolt of lightning, making his legs shake and back arch uncontrollably. Heat erupted from him as his cock jerked in his grasp and shot out long strings of cum onto the bathmat. His ass clenched, hard, around his father, muscles rippling in rhythmic pulses to the timing of his tsunami of pleasure. 

"Fuck, Pete-" Tony cursed, hips stuttering behind, into, out of Peter, finally coming to a lurching stop as a liquid heat spread inside Peter's ass. 

The bathroom was silent for long moments, except for their slowly calming breaths. Peter watched his father in the mirror, questioningly tracing the lines of his face as he pulled his cock out of Peter’s sloppy hole. 

"Dad?" Peter asked in a small voice. 

Tony sounded utterly spent as he replied, rubbing absently at Peter's hips where his fingers had left livid marks. "What Petey?" 

"Am I still grounded?"

[thebmatt]

FFXIV Write Day 2

Aberrant - departing from an accepted standard OR diverging from the normal type.

CONTENT WARNING: asshole parents denigrating their child with sexually charged language

"Master? A letter arrived for you."

Ahldblaet Fyrilberksyn looked up from the stack of documents with an irritated expression at the servant who'd interrupted him, a hyuran male of fair skin and hair.  "Well, boy? Who is it from then? Twelve save you if this isn't worth interrupting my very important work!"

The man went even paler. "I....I don't know, master. The envelope was not signed. The post markings indicate that it originated in Eorzea, but otherwise the only marking is that of a small green axe. I don't know..."

Ahldblaet's eyes, normally perpetually narrowed due to being deep set in his face, widened in shock. "Give that here!" he shouted. "And be gone with you!"

The servant scurried over to Ahldblaet's massive desk and practically dropped the envelope on the nearest corner before fleeing with all haste, as though for his life. Ahldblaet immediately snatched it from the stack of parchment it had fallen on and inspected the markings that the servant had mentioned.

"Husband?" a voice called from the side door that led from his office further into the home.  Said door opened and a shorter Roegadyn woman stepped through, her ash-colored skin in marked contrast to the sea-blue dress she wore. Her dark grey hair framed a face that wore an annoyed expression. "What is all this bellowing about? You are disturbing my guests. It is...unseemly."

Ahldblaet turned his severe gaze upon the new entrant. He was tall and exceptionally broad, a picture of strength in his youth, but his body had taken on a measure of fat in his older age and more sedentary work. Despite this, and his balding head of hair, his steely eyed expression still cowed many of the people he dealt with on a day to day basis. "It would seem, wife, that the enormous investment we have paid into those mercenaries we dispatched to Eorzea may have finally borne fruit. This is a missive their leader sent me. After our last communication I told him, in no uncertain terms, not to contact me until he had something of note to report. Unless he has foolishly ignored my orders, this would mean he has something."

The woman was not cowed, having long becoming immune to her husband's glares. Impatiently she gestured to the envelope. "Well, open it then, you great oaf!  Maybe we will finally learn where our daughter vanished to!"

Ahldblaet tore the envelope and removed the missive inside. He began to read aloud, knowing from prior experience if he did not, his wife would snatch the paper from his hands mid-sentence. She was not a patient one.

"Masters Ahldblaet Fyrilberksyn and Lady Usynwyda Holaszirnwyn,

I am please to report that after much time and hard work on the part of the Emerald Marauders, we have located your wayward daughter. Furthermore, we have determined the reasoning as to why she evaded both us and every previous mercenary company your lordship sent to retrieve her

First, your daughter is no longer using her given name of Syhrwyda Ahldblaetwyn. Asking after that name yielded no results, aside from the merchants who recognized it only as pertaining to you. By sheer luck, we eventually stumbled across a Roegadyn language scholar who knew the translation of her first name and directed us to an adventurer known as 'Fearless Willow', one of the Warriors of Light.

I am hoping the story of the Warriors of Light does not require an explanation for your lordship, but I will remind you that these people are slayers of godlike beings who regularly enslave the minds of mortals around them, have engaged massive numbers of Garlean soldiers and magitek armor, defeated Imperial Legatuses in single combat (including the Crown Prince), and decisively ended a thousand-year war between a dragon horde and the nation of Ishgard.

From there, we set out to determine if this woman and your daughter are one and the same. It is well known that one of the Warriors of Light is in fact a Roegadyn woman, but we needed to be certain. Adventurers are often well traveled and thanks to the Aetheryte network, difficult to track. Your descriptions were also primarily of the physical sort, which did not help, as appearances are easy enough to change.

We caught a break in speaking to one of the mercenary crews you'd previously hired. Many of them had been either entirely wiped or or reduced in numbers to the degree that they'd disbanded. What few remained refused to speak with us once it became clear who we were tracking. One particular mercenary of an Ala Mhigan band (known as the Graybear Den, which if you recall abruptly returned your payment and refused the contract) however, let slip some valuable information after our agents plied him with enough drink. Once he realized who we were speaking of, he grew agitated and swore he would never help us find 'the Warrior o' Light". It would seem the Graybears believe they owed a measure of loyalty to the Warriors of LIght for their instrumental parts in liberating their homeland.

It was, however, enough. Once we determined that your daughter and this Warrior of Light were in fact one and the same, we began looking for ways to isolate her and take her prisoner. Unfortunately this has proven extremely difficult. As they are involved in affairs that affect the entirety of the star, the Warriors of Light are often on the move, moreso than normal adventurers. Furthermore, as I have mentioned, they are peerless warriors, often in each other's company or those of their fellow Scions of the Seventh Dawn. If you don't know the order, suffice to say they are Warriors and Scholars both who labor on behalf of all peoples to defend the world against tyranny and false gods. They are exceptionally successful in this regard. The Scions often meet and collaborate with the leaders of various powers on this continent, who are often accompanied by their own soldiers or bodyguards.

We have remained patient however, and managed to catch a glimpse of her. As I mentioned was likely, she has extensively changed her appearance. Her hair is now of a longer cut and nearly all black, with only highlights of the teal you had mentioned remaining. She has also taken to wearing dark makeup.

We have also determined that unlike her fellow Warriors of Light, she does not dwell in the Scion's headquarters. Instead, she has taken to living in the Hingashi port city of Kugane, where she has a modest home in the district of the city reserved for foreigners.

Finally, and you may wish to brace her ladyship for this part, she does not live there alone. Our spies have reported that her home is occupied by two other women, and their observations of them interacting within the city indicates that the three of them are lovers

We believe that this is our best shot at capturing her, but the price for her return to you has just doubled.

You are doubtless shaking with rage, but you hired us to retrieve a woman that you led us to believe would provide minimal resistance. Even isolated from the other Scions in Kugane, we believe we will face extreme resistance in this job. For starters, your daughter has mastered several forms of combat, including the ways of the Hingashi samurai, the axe-masters of Abalathia's Spine, and the art of thaumaturgy. She is also known to wield the Sharlayan art of Astrology, and has mastered a form of dance from Radz-at-Han that wields circular blades with deadly precision.

Furthermore, Fearless Willow is a known and loved name within the borders of Kugane, despite being a foreigner in a city that remains neutral to all concerns beyond their borders. She was instrumental in aiding their geomancers in repelling an attack from a fox-like beast known as 'Kinko' and she also trained alongside the Sekiseigumi (the samurai order that enforces the laws of the city, brutally so) and helped them put down a rebellion from within their own ranks. One of her lovers is a high ranking member of the Sekiseigumi. The other is a member of her dance troupe who is on an extended tour in the city. She is every bit as deadly in the art as Fearless is.

The point is that, even isolated from the other Scions, many people will rush to her aid. We expect heavy resistance and significant losses. The original reward will not suffice to cover this.

We will not move forward with this operation until we have your confirmation of acceptance of the new price. And we suggest you hurry, as events brewing suggest your daughter will soon be called back to the fight, at which point it is impossible to tell when we will have another opportunity

Cmdr Guji Pokiji Chief Executive, Emerald Marauders  

Ahldblaet set the letter on his desk, shaking with rage as he looked to his wife."How DARE that miniscule INSECT think to extort us?? A Warrior of Light, indeed. As if our useless fool of a daughter has the brains to take on even one sort of combat discipline, much less five! How gullible does he THINK us to be?"

Usynwyda nodded, a disgusted sneer on her face. "The NERVE of her, to merely toss aside the name we chose for her, only to refer to herself in the....ugh...common tongue! Still, the name cannot be a coincidence. Whatever other lies that little gnat undoubtedly told, this is the best lead we have had on Syhrwyda since she ran away."

"It is. And if they are not all lies, then it is all the more imperative we retrieve her before word of any of this gets out among our enemies. The very idea that she would toss aside the husband we painstakingly chose for her after careful selection and delicate negotiation in favor of laying with another woman, much less two! I worried she would do stupid things, but this level of degeneracy, of abberance? It is unconscionable!"

Usynwyda shuddered. "We cannot let this get out. I can never face any of the ladies if they should learn my daughter has become no better than some...common whore. We must marry her off to the Greinmyrgan boy with all haste before she does any further damage to us, to the company."

Ahldblaet scribbled furiously. "I am already writing orders to have our ship made ready and for our elite guards to prepare for a journey. We will find her and we end this nonsense."

Far away, in Kugane, the Warrior of Light known as Fearless Willow shuddered as she prepared to fall asleep. She had no ping from the Echo, no signal from her finely honed danger sense to explain it, but she definitely felt as if trouble was heading her way, and no idea what it might be.