#Gunpowder Martini

[waffled0g]

Karablammo

She said she doesn't sing, EVER. She said she wouldn't be seen in public with a stupid bunny rabbit. But get enough gunpowder martinis in Kablammo and all of a sudden...

@putuksstuff feat SpuddyBuddy

[closets-closet]

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley Head Cannon.

Okay, so it’s been years since i’ve done one of these, but i’m hoping for the best. It’s going to go in a specific order.

- Head Cannon Background

- Head Cannon

- Short Story featuring head cannon

I definitely want to do more of these as I really wanna get back into writing and the COD brain rot is BAD right now. So lemme know if there’s any Head Cannons for other COD characters and I’ll write something up🫡🤍

(Also I haven’t used Tumblr in a hot minute so i apologize if its formatted weird, and for any typos, i have long nails right now and Auto Correct can’t save us all)

-

-

I’ve got the feeling that Ghost/Simon smokes cheap cigarettes. Like after everything that happened to him in his younger years he picked it up and at the time all he could afford were some Lucky Strikes from the convenience store down the way.

-

-

So hear me out… Simon always smells like cigarettes. It mixes well the smell of gunpowder and sweat that lingers on his skin. The smell makes him recognizable, it makes him stick out from his teammates. Also feel like he definitely keeps a pack in the breast pocket of his uniform or in one of the pockets of his pants.

-

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You get off work after a long day, You find yourself sitting in your closest local bar. Martini glass pressed between your fingers. The bar is loud, and packed, not surprising considering it’s a friday night. You stick out like a sore thumb, pencil skirt from work and blazer that does you no justice. The bar only gets louder when a group of men walk in, they’re large, and they stand out. Not one particularly catches your eye untill you see the bigger guy in the back, ushering them into the bar. He’s tall, his facial features obscured by a black balaclava that only allows for you to see his eyes which see directly through you. You face back towards your half-empty martini glass the olive looking lonely at the bottom. As your eyes burn holes into the wood bar top your senses are flooded with a smell, a smell that brings you relief from the smell of beer, and other liquors that are being poured and thrown back by college kids and young adults looking to get the edge off. It smells of charcoal, gunpowder and the pungent smell of cigarettes. You tilt your head to the side trying to get a look at who it could be when your eyes lock with the man’s from before, his balaclava pulled up to his nose as he takes a sip from a rocks glasses filled with whisky. Your eyes burn into his and you can’t help but stare. You’re intrigued, dangerously so, and little do you know, he is as well.

[funnyfooddatabase]

Hard Rock Cafe John Wick: Chapter 4 Burger and Cocktails

Food AND Drink

Type of Funny Food: Tie-In Product

Introduced: March 2023

Location: Hard Rock Cafe

To promote the release of the fourth film in the John Wick franchise, music-themed restaurant chain the Hard Rock Cafe offered a themed burger and two cocktails for a limited time.

The burger- the Wagyu Yaga (a reference to Wick's nickname "Baba Yaga") was a wagyu burger with a sweet and spicy gunpowder seasoning, tomato, lettuce, wasabi cheese sauce, Tonkatsu ketchup, red wine-caramelized onions, and wasabi cheese sauce, all served with fries.

The two drinks were Vengeance on the Rocks (right), a mix of Jack Daniels, passion fruit, lime juice, almond syrup, prosecco, and liqueur cassis, and the No Business-Espresso Martini (left), a mix of Jack Daniels, brown sugar simple syrup, Disarrono amaretto, and fresh espeesso.

The partnership also included a sweepstakes that would allow one lucky winner to dress like John Wick by receiving a custom suit created by the film's costume designer, Paco Delgado, alongside a stay in the Rock Star Suite at the New York Hard Rock Hotel. This sweepstakes was won by Cathi Swett, an attorney and actress from New Jersey.

_

Images courtesy of Hard Rock International and the Hard Rock Twitter account.

[sam-glade]

Happy STS! 💕

Have you had any instances where a random event in your life inspired a scene in your WIP, provided a solution during a period of writer's block, or in general prompted a new idea? What was it, and how did it change the story?

Hi Ella, happy STS!

I tend to seek out experiences that are in some ways connected to my WIPs - like going to museums with a specific theme in mind, sightseeing, etc. We'd often recreate 18th century recipes at home, just so I can describe the taste in my books (they're delicious!).

But the most amazing experience might have been the first time my dad was invited by his friend for an experience day at shooting ranges, with the aim of trying out a variety of firearms, which included a Colt revolver and a Martini-Henry rifle. Of course I tagged along! I wasn't even thinking about my writing at the time, just there was no way I'd miss it.

It took place in a late-19th century shooting sports complex (in the UK), and the location was almost as incredible as the experience. The layout, the organisation, the little customs surrounding shooting for sport. Also, the smell of gunpowder❤️

And I admit that on the way back, my only thought was 'I need to work this into Aftermath somehow'. And I did! It was during the early stages of the project, and I believe it helped me solidified the Sixth Tree plotline - about a family of gunmakers that are a thorn in the First Prince's side.

This is by far the most impactful and incredible experience I've had. Other than that, there's plenty of occasions where I see something in a museum or hear from a friendly scientist relative, and go 'I can use that'.

[richaldis]

The cocktail menu of the bar AS was drinking at;

Prairie Oyster

Tomato Yolk, Horseradish Vodka, Oloroso Sherry, Shallots, Pepper Sauce, Celery Salt, Oyster Leaf

House Martini

Caper Leaf - Dry Martini - Woodland - Terruno

Apple & Hay Bellini

Apple & Hay Puree, Prosecco

Jasmine Kir**

Apricot, Jasmine, Champagne

Grand Margarita

Olmeca Altos Tequila, Grand Marnier, Ancho Chilli, Acidify Orange

Cameron’s Peach

Laphroaig 10, Creme de Peche, Orgeat, Lemon, Soda

Bloody Mary

Horseradish Vodka, Tomato Juice, Worcester Sauce, Lemon Juice, Pepper Distillate

Colombia Hi

La Hechicera Rum, Verjus, Bergamot, Candy Ginger, Gunpowder Tea, Soda

Heather Negroni

Gin, Campari, Sweet Vermouth, Heather Flower

A Cuppa Tea*

Cachaça, Earl Grey Tea, Soy Milk, All Spice Berries,Lime

HoneyMoon

Silent Pool Gin, Sweet Vermouth, Chestnut Honey, Kumquat Bitters

Rye, Rye

Sazerac Rye, Rye Bitters, Rye Syrup

House Manhattans

Steel Corp - Vintage El Presidente***

Funny how everyone was named in the pics - no one who could be V though :-)

[111thewholeworldsgirl]

Strawberry Moon

Van

I followed it to an empty field

No fruits to bear

Watering my plants with gunpowder & gin

A slow dry death

My white dress

Bloodied with wine

& berries

Hands shakey

Martini stirred

But the violin

Sedates

I make my way to the sky

A cloud

Taking the beauty of her

For myself

Selfishness can’t be a virtue

But the good & bad blend

Inside a cluttered mind

Over a good drink

Just waiting to be witnessed

By the bright wide strawberry moon

[luxebeat]

5 Martini Recipes to Celebrate National Martini Day [COCKTAIL TIME]

5 Martini Recipes to Celebrate National Martini Day [COCKTAIL TIME]

Today is National Martini Day! If you are on the hunt for the best spirits to concoct this classic drink, we have pulled together some of our favorite vodkas and gins (and even a flavored whiskey!) We have included martini recipes from esteemed brands such as Palm Bay International, Broken Shed Vodka and brand-new to the US market Portofino Dry Gin. Considered to be a timeless libation, the…

[traveler-at-heart]

Leave it to chance

Summary: Natasha just wants an evening with you. The rest of the people at Tony’s party have other plans.

Natasha x Fem!Reader

A/N: Here it is, a request made a long time ago by the lovely @poptartpoppyy 

It was an exhausting mission. In spite of the quick shower while the Quinjet flew on auto pilot, the faint smell of smoke and gunpowder lingered. You’d rather be in your pajamas and getting some sleep, but this was a fundraiser and you knew your presence would help get some money towards good causes.

Looking around the room, it was obvious Tony had decided on a casino themed night. It was very apt, especially if he wanted the invitees to spend their money without thinking twice. You walked past a poker table, Sam and Maria looking at each other without breaking eye contact. “He thinks she’s bluffing” Natasha informed you when you tilted your head, curious at the interaction. “Ah. Well, are you playing anything tonight?” “Don’t like betting or leaving my fate to chance” she tilted her head towards her sister, screaming after losing for the tenth time. “Come on, if you don’t risk it, you won’t win it” you professed, sitting next to her on a bar stool. Natasha smirked, but quickly changed the subject. “Didn’t expect to see you here. I know it was a hard mission” “What? This?” you pointed at your split lip and swollen cheek. “Nah, you should see the HYDRA brute” “If you need a way out, just say the word” she whispered, sipping her martini with those beautiful, full lips that were adorned with red lipstick. “Trying to get rid of me?” a strand of hair covered your face and as you placed it behind your ear you felt something sticky in your fingers. “You’re bleeding” Natasha jumped up. “Huh? No, that can’t be” “Your head. God, Y/N, I knew you were not fine” she placed the glass on the bar and took your hand, dragging you across the room. “Your skull is so thick you can’t even feel a punch?” “Where are we going?” “To get a doctor” “I’m a doctor” a woman said behind you. Your turned around and caught her staring with a predatory smirk. She pushed you against the couch and you fell with a little whine. The brunette climbed to your lap, pretending to examine the shallow wound on your temple. “Are you able to see?” she said with a smile, knowing full well her breasts were all over your face. “Uh… not now, no. I mean…” “I don’t think you’re a doctor” Natasha grumbled, pulling her off of you. You looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, I thought we were role playing” the woman winked, making you blush. “You either have a concussion or gay panic” Natasha complained when you stumbled to the medbay. “Can’t those two trues coexist?” you mumbled, still perpexled at how forward the stranger had been. Half an hour later, the doctors confirmed what you told Natasha. You did not have a concussion and all they did in the end was clean the little gash. “Could have fooled me with that dumb look on your face” she grumbled and you winced. “She was all over my face, I seriously did not expected that” “Are you really that oblivious to how many people like you?” she insisted as you walked back to the room. “What do you…” you were about to ask, when you felt a tap on your shoulder. There was a blonde woman, around Wanda’s age and she was looking at you eagerly. “Hi, there” “Hi, Y/N. Sorry, of course I know your name. I’m Nelly” “And I’m getting a drink” Natasha rolled her eyes at the woman and disappeared. You wanted to follow her but the conversation with Nelly wasn’t over, apparently. “Listen, my niece is like your biggest fan. Here” she stood close to you, leaning against your arm. Nelly played a couple of videos of her niece, dressed like you and wearing the shield Tony had designed. “Oh, she’s just the cutest” you melted against the woman, and kept laughing at the images she played. You were smitten over the little girl. “Her birthday is coming up and I was just wondering if you’d tell her happy birthday over video” “Yeah, absolutely!” Nelly got ready to record you, smiling as you waved to the camera. “Hi, Lizzie. Your aunt Nelly tells me you really want to be an Avenger one day. You got some great moves, kiddo. Anyway, I hope you have a great birthday! Oh, and your aunt Nelly is the coolest aunt ever!” “Yes, that’s awesome” the blonde commented, replaying the video. “Alright then” you thought you were finally free to go, but Nelly stood in front of you again, smirking. “How can I pay you?” “No need. It was just a video” “Really? So you’re not interested in dinner?” she toyed with the edge of your shirt and your throat was dry. Oh, boy. “Well, I go on so many missions that I barely have the time” “I think you can squeeze in some. We can have dessert too” “Uh…” How could you come up with extraction missions and not know how to politely decline what was surely a proposition to get laid? Yelena saved you the trouble. “Jesus, so sorry” she stumbled against the other woman, spilling some of her drink on her dress. “Hey, at least you’ll smell like good vodka, huh? Oy, whatever I guess” she turned to you as the woman walked to the restroom. “You might want to run away because I don’t think she will give up” “So are you tipsy or were you just trying to help a friend?” you smiled and she giggled. “A bit of the two. But also, I gotta find Kate Bishop because she was very drunk. Excuse me” “Wait, where’s your sister?” “Over there” she pointed to a table where people were playing. “Maybe” As you walked around the different games, you thought you found Natasha. But as soon as you spotted her, Bucky’s large body came into view, and you pushed him towards the table. “Shit, sorry, Bucks” you apologized as he smiled at you. “No worries, doll, it’s not my lucky day” “Sir, you won” the dealer informed him and you stared at each other. “Ok, now you have to come over” he pulled you towards the game. You never understood any of these things. All he did was throw dice apparently. “You’re my lucky charm” “Just for a few minutes” you said. It turned out to be at least half an hour. Bucky kept winning and you’d throw your hands in the air, hollering at a new set of chips joining his huge pile. “What am I getting out of being your lucky charm?” you said before blowing at the metal hand holding the dice. “How about ice cream?” “Ice cream? Splurge a little, Buck” He laughed at that, throwing the dice again. “Yes!” he picked you up. And yes, you were a little smitten at seeing him so happy. He rarely hung around anyone at the Compound. Natasha and him surely had a competition for the grumpiest… Shit. “She left already” Yelena informed you the second she found you looking around the room. You hurried around the elevator, holding your side as you waited for the doors to open. Without the noise and the winning euphoria, you could tell you were very tired. “Ran out of luck?” she asked, still clad in her red dress. “Ran out to find you, that’s more like it” “Didn’t want to interrupt. Seems like he was finally ready to ask you out” “Bucky?” you stuttered. “Yeah, uh… not my type” well… you snorted at the sudden thought. Natasha glared at you, clearly in a bad mood - and definitely not in one to entertain your jokes. “I mean, in some ways he is my type. Ex-assassin, broody, striking eyes, trained in Russia” “Are you getting somewhere with this?” “You’re a spy, figure it out” rolling your eyes at how clueless she was being, you began to walk out of the kitchen. “I wanted a nice evening dancing and drinking with you, that’s all” Natasha kept staring at the coffee pot, stubborn as usual. All she could think about was you with all those people, including Barnes. It was infuriating how you didn’t even notice they were all shamelessly flirting. “Almost as infuriating as you not understanding she likes you” Yelena commented, munching on a Pop Tart. “When did you get here?” Natasha jumped. “Kate Bishop is a light weight. Did I say that right? I also overheard Y/N describing you to your face. Ex-assassin raised in Russia with a very cool little sister” “Pretty sure you added that last bit” “Maybe” Yelena shrugged. “Come on sestra, don’t be silly. Go get the girl” — You felt pretty defeated. Maybe you should have avoided the party altogether. But now, you were finally in your pajamas and ready to sleep it off. “Agent Y/N, you are required in the briefing room” FRIDAY asked. “Now?!” you covered your face with a pillow. “Yes” “Ugh. Fine” Without changing into everyday clothes, you basically stomped to the conference room. “This better be importa-“ The whole room was dark, except for a couple of candles. Natasha was lighting the last one as you barged into the room. “I forgot you sprint when you’re mad” she said with a smile, smoothing the front of her dress. “I do not” you lied, but walked inside. “An evening dancing, right?” Natasha smiled weakly and you nodded. “I looked a lot better a half hour ago. Yoga pants and an old t-shirt aren’t exactly Fashion Week stuff” “You look perfect. Come on” she reached for your hand, while a soft song played in the background. You let her lead you, moving your body closer until your head was resting on her shoulder. “A lot of people could flirt with me but I’d only want you to do it” you told her, kissing her cheek. “Go out on a date with me” Natasha blurted out. “Is that an order or a question?” you smiled. “Depends if you like it when I’m bossy” she said, but blushed at her lack of tact. “Yeah, I like it. Tomorrow at 7” “It’s a plan” you swayed with the music for a few minutes until she spoke again. “So I’m your type, huh?” “Like I said, ex-assassin, striking eyes, a bit clueless. And a great ass” “Yeah, definitely not Bucky. Boy’s got no junk in the trunk” “You did not just say that” you snorted. She was such a dork. “What if I did? Was I not spilling the tea?” “Please stop talking” you pleaded, mortified that she’d keep saying anything like that. “Just speaking my truth…” she was interrupted by your lips on hers. You caught her little smirk, her hands lowering to your waist. “I knew I should take more chances during casino night” she pecked your lips once again. “Play your cards right and you’ll get lucky, Romanoff” And you were willing to bet that was happening pretty soon.

[mixology-maven]

The Kingpin - A Marvel Inspired Cocktail

The Kingpin is large and in charge. He is often represented as having peak human strength and being surprisingly agile for his girth. This drink is a good old fashioned Dirty Martini, made Maven style. 

Kingpin 3 oz Irish Gunpowder Gin 0.5 oz Dry Vermouth 0.25 oz Olive Brine Garnish 3 Large Blue-Cheese Stuffed Olives Combine all ingredients into a mixing tin with ice. shake gently for about 10 seconds. Strain into a martini glass, garnish and enjoy!

[pandoras-tupperware]

What time is it?

It’s loving and appreciating Nastya Rasputina time!!!!

[Image ID: four sketches featuring Nastya Rasputina. The first shows Jonny D’Ville grabbing and biting Nastya Rasputina’s arm. She yells at him and sprays him with a spray bottle.

The second: a blue-colored sketch of Jonny trying to attack Nastya, with flailing arms and jagged teeth. She holds him back by pushing his head with low effort, her face is low detail and she is much taller than him. Writing next to Nastya says “fuck off you rat”.

The third: Nastya Rasputina holding a martini glass with an olive in one hand and gesturing out with the other, eyes squinting. She says: “like, I don’t see how it’s monster-fucking if it’s a spaceship but go off I guess.” And writing below her says “fuck I love Nastya”.

The fourth: A pink and yellow colored sketch of Gunpowder Tim walking through the hallway of the Aurora. He’s passing Nastya, who is making out with a metal socket on the wall. Tim has his hand by his face to block Nastya’s behavior from his vision. Writing next to Tim says “life is hell”. End ID.]

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: The Furies (Kingdom of Ichor)

from left to right: Megaera, Tisiphone, & Alecto

Nicknames- The Vengeance Trilogy by Hermes & Ares

The Kindly Ones & Punishers of Evil by the people of Olympius

Megaera (Meg) by her mom, sisters, and the rest of the pantheon

Tisiphone (Tisi) by her mom and sisters

Age(s)- 25 (immortal)

Location- The Underworld

Personalities- Being another well known trio in the pantheon, most people that aren't in their immediate social circle are an enemy. Meg takes on the leadership role with being the oldest. She's intelligent, neurotic, jealous & a big grudge holder. Being the youngest, Alecto can be emotionally immature at times with a fiery temper. Tisiphone is cool, calm, and collected. They are all currently single, with Meg being bisexual & Alecto and Tisiphone being straight.

The Furies (being Underworld goddesses) have many shared & individual abilities. They share the power of flight (due to their leathery bat wings), fire immunity, darkness and shadow manipulation (not to the extent of Nyx), necromancy and soul manipulation (not to the extent of Hades & Mania) as well as having many other abilities similar to bats, like producing fang like teeth, echolocation, & enhanced senses.

Alecto has a few abilities like anger inducement, "Fury State", & has an innate sense of when a crime is being committed, what kind of crime, where, & who are involved. In Olympius, she's often Praxidike's "secret weapon."

Meg can communicate with crows as well as feeding off others' emotions of envy, revenge, and retribution. She can innately sense when a person desires revenge against another.

Tisi has an innate sense of evidence (as it pertains to homicide). She can also ambush anyone without making a sound, slaying her opponent/target in one fell swoop. As a sick twisted form of punishment, she can also induce someone to kill.

They all live together in an artsy neo gothic style loft in the Underworld. Tisi nicknames their place "Gunpowder Alley." Their basement resembles a chamber/dungeon, which are filled with many torture apparatus. They don't live too far from the Fields of Punishment a.k.a Tartarus. It's said that the screams heard from there helps them to fall asleep.

Meg's room is painted in black & steel blue and she's a fan of velvet/art deco style furniture.

Tisi's room is painted in "Bloodstain Red" and it's decorated with latex & leather furniture.

Alecto's room has a bit of color, being painted in a muted periwinkle.

In their living room, there's a grand chandelier, glittering with black, blue, and red garnets.

The sisters share an overabundance of pets including screech owls, crows, vipers, spiders, & bats.

Even though they get around using their wings, it doesn't stop them from having a collection of cars and motorcycles in their garage that they fix up themselves.

The sisters always fight for attention when it comes to their mother Poena (goddess of punishment).

For work, they work alongside Hades in his company as well as overseeing the Fields of Punishment, keeping the prisoners in check. The Furies carry alongside them powerful celestial bronze bullwhips that are also pyrokinetic. They're also alternating justices of the Grand Olympian Court as well as being a part of The Dark Council, the council of advisors for Hades.

Alecto's go-to drink is an iced black coffee (no cream & two sugars) from The Roasted Bean. She also likes red wine, classic martinis, ginger ale, pomegranate cola, purple lullaby cocktails, cola floats, blueberry martinis, and lavender tea.

Meg prefers a blackjack drink, bloody marys, crantinis, la lousiane cocktails, rum & cokes, and cherry cola cocktails. With coffee, she prefers an olympian sized dark roast (no cream, no sugar) & a large iced dark chocolate mocha from The Roasted Bean.

Tisi loves sipping on firecracker cocktails. She also likes black russians, blackberry margaritas, white wine, beer, mineral water, black velvet drinks, pomegranate juice, espresso martinis, and cinnamon roll cocktails. She doesn't like coffee or tea.

Alecto hates it when Meg saddles her with all the paperwork.

One of the sisters' favorite desserts is dark cherry pie, especially the one their mom makes!

The sisters generally like Hades (god of the dead) as their boss/ruler) with Tisi even having a crush on him a few centuries ago, starting off with a daydream sex fantasy she had of him being chained up in her dungeon.

In the pantheon, The Furies highly respect & admire Nyx (goddess of the night), Empusa (goddess of shapeshifting), and Erebus (god of darkness)- even being friends with their kids Nemesis (goddess of retribution), Charon (Ferryman of the Underworld), Keres (goddess of violent death), and Thanatos (god of death).

They're also friends with two other well known trios- The Moirai (being a part of their knitting/sewing circle) & The Gray Sisters.

The trio is also good friends with Keres (goddess of violent death), Hecate (goddess of magic & witchcraft), Athena (goddess of wisdom), Oizys (goddess of anxiety, misery, & depression), Moros (god of doom), Lyssa (goddess of rage & frenzy), Kakia (goddess of vice & moral wrongdoing), and Mania (goddess of insanity).

Outside the pantheon, Alecto is friends with Minthe, an Underworld naiad nymph and Hades' girlfriend while Meg is good friends with the gorgon sisters- Stheno & Euryale.

The Furies don't mind Hestia (goddess of the hearth) or Menoetius (Titan god of rage, violence, & rash actions) as they're frequenters of his nightclub The Alpha Room.

For other work, they have their own merch as well as their own individual projects. Meg is developing a "revenge fantasy" reality TV show, Tisi teaches forensic science online classes for the University, and Alecto has a private detective agency in the Shadowstone neighborhood of New Olympus as well as modeling for Heavenly Spark.

They do share several fetishes/sexual proclivities like softcore and hardcore S&M, BDSM, power play, self-harm, humiliation, & degradation.

Tisi has been communicating online with a mortal guy named Cithaeron. She hasn't been completely truthful about her identity while the two of them has had lots of phone sex. She changes the subject when he brings up video chatting or the possibility of meeting in person.

Alecto likes to dog-sit Cerberus.

Meg grows her own strain of weed that's also laced with pure black opium, which she gets from Hypnos.

Aside from their jobs, The Furies also have many hobbies. Meg does freakish caricature portraits of tourists visiting the Underworld for five drachmas a piece. Tisi has a favorite pastime- writing erotica (especially geared towards BDSM & vore fetishes.)

Meg's not looking to be in a relationship, but she does have a flirtatious rapport with Charon. She even knows about his one night stand with Pheme (goddess of fame).

Alecto is an unashamed fan of rom-coms!

Tisi's favorite dish is a large orzo salad, Alecto likes sweet & sour braised oxtail stew (with white rice), and Meg's favorite meal is a slab of barbeque ribs, drowned in a cognac based sauce.

"Don't you know that all terrifying things come in threes?"

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: soonyoung x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 6503 ⚬ warnings: degradation, drinking ⚬ genres: this is just smut. filthy smut. featuring a lot of dirty talk from soonyoung and a hint of a secret au!

 ✧✎ synopsis: the tension between you and a mystifying stranger at the club only thickens each time you meet. he seems like a risk you’re willing to take.

✧✎ a/n: GOD. i have not written straight up smut in two years! i mean, there is a little bit of a background plot, i hope it’s all enjoyable hehe. also, the “secret au” is pretty easy to guess lol, but i suppose it could be a couple of things!

The first time you see him, you’re surrounded by your friends, packaged into a small space that grants you just enough room to sway your body and bring a pink-coloured drink to your lips. He’s across the room, leaning back on a white sofa. Impassively, he overlooks the crowd, until his entourage returns from the shadows to occupy the hard cushions. One of them leans into his ear and whispers something. You force yourself to swallow more of the sweet syrup from your glass, wondering what was said that makes him smirk.

A hand touches your bare shoulder, to which you turn around and grin rather intoxicatedly at your friend. She’s equally inebriated, and as the music reverberates toward the centre of the floor, you wrap an arm around her waist to pull her in close and move with the beat. You take another sip from the glass before hoisting it high in the air, hips undulating, feeling the heat and the dizziness and her hot breath hitting your ear as she mouths along to the lyrics.

Eventually, you two part, and your turn yourself back around almost immediately. As much as you want to believe it’s not because of the stranger, that seems to be the only plausible explanation, and it only burns that much deeper when you realize he’s staring at you. One arm stretches around the back of the sofa, his other hand loosely holding an amber shot glass at his knee. For a moment you stop moving to return his gaze. The stranger isn’t coy. He evidently scans your body, starting at your laced stilettos, venturing up the black fabric hugging your waist, and landing at the haze in your eyes.

You feel warm, but it’s not the muggy air, the crowded club, or even the violet lights.

However, you’re soon met with the repercussions of the dance floor as an unfamiliar body slams into yours, jostling you forward. You grimace as alcohol sloshes over your glass, prompting you to quickly escape toward a less populated pocket of space. The stranger’s glance follows you, yet his mood has shifted. Instead, he chuckles and shakes his head while bringing the shot glass to his lips, downing the golden liquid in a short swig. Your heart thunders upon watching him gently elbow his friend, where he utters something into his ear that preludes their amused, somewhat snide expressions.

It’s downright embarrassing. You can only deduce they’re enjoying your accident with the drink, even when the same predicament had probably just happened to someone else at the opposite end of the room. The stranger’s gaze seems to be searching out a different body, though you aren’t certain, rather you weave your way through the tables to find the washroom and rinse the alcohol from your hand. Admittedly, you feel disappointed to lose the stranger’s attraction. You can’t remember the last time you experienced a successful hook-up where you weren’t exaggerating your lacklustre pleasure.

Your hopes had simply been too high.

The second time you see him, you’re sucking restlessly at a straw, completely emptying the glass until there’s nothing but crushed ice cubes watering down the last few drops of alcohol. Looking up from the table, you spot him buried in the wave of sluggish bodies, the violet light tingeing his partially unbuttoned dress shirt and his black hair. But it rapidly dawns that he’s not dancing alone, for a girl twirls into his arms, pressing her backside to his front, rubbing herself against him while his hands explore her torso. The light hits a new angle on his throat, illuminating the trail of hickies.

It cuts through you, for the envy is like a blade generously sharpened. Even though you will yourself to look away, it becomes an impossible task, to which you trace their every movement without missing a heartbeat. His hand, clad in a myriad of silver rings, engulfs her breast and squeezes. Her head tilts back onto his shoulder, gasping something that seems to be full of euphoria. His eyes flicker quickly, and as though you’re a rabbit that’s to be nicked by an arrow, you’re caught directly in the crosshairs. You wish there had been more alcohol lining your glass so you could’ve turned further numb.

Enveloped in the stranger’s trance, you watch his hand slide around the column of her neck, how his gaze never falters even when he licks a stripe up her skin and nips at her ear. Folding one leg over the other, you attempt to snuff the venereal warmth that flutters at your abdomen, hating that you’re imaging what each sensation would feel like if you were against his body rather than her. His eyes are black, poisonous, and yet you contain so little care that he might be a menace, not when he grinds his hips against the dip of her spine while she hides her face in his neck, already suckling another bruise.

You have no idea what she’s feeling, or why he can’t take his eyes off you. It’s a bit unabashed and perhaps from a place of unsatiated neediness, but you’d really love for him to fuck you.

Maybe your third encounter will be the charm.

“Drink or dare?”

“Dare.”

For the past two rounds, you had purely subjected your body to the potent taste of sour, cold lime and gin mixed with tonic. Not desiring to ram your consciousness further into the ground, you finally chose dare, which uproots some whistles and snickers from around the table. Your friend bites her lip, straining her neck while her eyes cherry pick through the club-goers. Despite the alcohol exchanging your blood for liquid fire, there’s a nervousness in your tummy, and you can’t help fiddling with the hem of your black dress upon waiting for her sinister verdict.

“Alright,” she says, almost yelling over the thunderous bass, “I dare you to ask that guy what his biggest secret is!”

You follow her pointed finger, and your heart seems to immediately shrivel. He’s standing by the white sofa, invested in a conversation with another man who’s holding a martini glass, filled with a drink that’s an electric shade of blue. He offers the drink toward him, but the stranger denies, aggressively pushing away the glass. You sense a scuffle is going to break out between the two men, until someone else who always seems to accompany the stranger steps in, diminishing the conflict.

“Well?” She calls out to you, quirking an eyebrow. “You going or not?”

“I’m going!”

You slide off the stool and pull down your dress. As you shift your way through the crowd, you attempt to rally some confidence, rehearsing the different approaches you could take upon introducing yourself. Yet, there’s a gigantic roadblock. How are you going to persuade him to reveal his biggest secret? From what you already gleaned, he appears unforthcoming, but awfully magnetic.

By the time you’re tapping his shoulder, your confidence disintegrates like a dried flower petal and every nonchalant line you practiced in a spasm floats out your head.

His eyes are much darker in proximity, the colour of sable, and he smells like a royal cologne you can’t afford. He waits for you to speak first, almost as though he knows how nervous you are, wanting to revel in the trembling notes of your voice.

“I-I’m supposed— I’m, uh… How are you?” It’s painful, but you manage to choke it out.

With his hands casually buried in his pockets, his shoulders relaxed, he shrugs.

“I’m fine, honey. And yourself?”

Your blood surges, for you can feel it dragging through your veins, and a heat unlike any other draws a glimmering film to your palms. Due to the pounding music, you both have to raise your voices.

“I’m –uh– good? Yeah, I’m good!” Somehow, your lexicon could exist on the point of a needle.

The stranger chuckles. He’s enjoying your flustered nature far too much.

Quickly, you spiel out another question: “what’s your name?”

However, he doesn’t catch it. Instead, he taps his ear and leans in.

“What’s your name?” Your entire chest beats wildly upon repeating the question. The black fibres of his hair smell like passionfruit, but there’s a distant scent, and you think it’s charcoal.

He pulls back and smiles. “Soonyoung.” His name simmers in the thick air for a moment.

Your skin intensely prickles as his gaze then traces the length of your body, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, plump and pink as he asks, “what about you?”

Soonyoung lowers his head again, to which your lips nearly touch his ear upon replying with your name. Once more, he smiles contentedly, while you believe that the scent in his hair has to be charcoal, or maybe even gunpowder. You think about the man with the electric blue drink, how he must’ve sunk into the shadows after Soonyoung’s friend intervened. The dare is still in the back of your mind, even when you inquire on a different topic.

“Why do you look at me all the time?”

There’s something about the darkness in his eyes that keeps you allured, even when you sense it’s better to reject the dare all together and brace through another gulp of gin and tonic.

“Hm. That’s not what you came here to say now is it, honey?”

His response unsteadies you. As Soonyoung counters your question with another question, a small curl develops at the corners of his mouth, as though he knows something you don’t. From his backside, another companion of his abruptly slides by, his hand settling on Soonyoung’s shoulder while he whispers into his ear. The man disappears immediately afterward, like he was nothing but mist.

The strangeness of it all leads you to fumble.

“Well… I-I was dared to come over here. I have to ask what your biggest secret is…”

It’s rather embarrassing to admit. You’d shoot a glare toward your friends if you weren’t so enraptured by Soonyoung’s unfaltering eyes.

“My biggest secret?” He drags a hand slowly through his hair while he bites his lip, thinking. You presume the gold watch on his wrist must cost more than your rent.

“I think I have a good one.” The manner in which Soonyoung’s tone had deepened piques your curiosity, though his soft smirk suggests you should consider if you truly want to know the answer.

Not willing to capitulate when you’ve succeeded this far, you dare grin at him, ensuring that you’re heard overtop the club music when you invite, “tell me.”

The sweltering of the amethyst lights and the concentrated gin coursing beneath your flesh does nothing to mitigate how hot you feel. When Soonyoung steps in close, his cologne seems to envelope you in an unbreakable spell, and your fingernails dig into the flexible, tight fabric of your dress when his lips brush your ear’s cusp. His voice laps like velvet at your very core.

“I think about fucking you, calling you my pretty little slut as I shove your face in my pillow and put my cock so deep inside you that you’re screaming. Every time I have a girl in my bed, I imagine it’s you, begging me to give it to you harder, begging me for my cum, and I make you take it all, just so I can watch how it drips out of you, honey. ”

Then, Soonyoung is leaning away with an expression that’s wholly complacent, meanwhile your universe is splitting itself apart beneath the flame of his words, a sensation much too slick now dampening the lace between your thighs. You can’t help but wet your dry lips.

“Is that a big enough secret for you, huh?” He purrs, a purple glint flashing in his eyes.

Nothing pieces together in your head. There is not one sentence bothering to make itself apparent, let alone any margin of thought that was relatively pure. Engulfed in the midst of unintelligible music and sanity that endlessly dwindles, you decide the only sensible reply is to kiss Soonyoung. This is just an opportunity you can’t lose. Pressing your chest to his, one hand gripping his shoulder, you at long last acquaint yourself with his candied taste and the softness of his pink mouth.

Soonyoung grins upon the pressure, the gin and tonic that coats your unhesitant tongue, how you mewl so helplessly when he digs his fingers into your hips like they were meant to be imprinted with bruises. Winding your arms around the boy’s neck, you fall into him in complete vulnerability, pull him down closer while he licks into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he chuckles breathily, his hands venturing lower to squeeze your ass, “bet you’d let me bend you right over on this couch, wouldn’t you, honey?”

Sliding your fingers through the feathery, black hair at his nape, you push your lips to his once more, nipping at his bottom lip that shimmers with your own saliva. Honestly, Soonyoung isn’t far from the truth. The last time you experienced such a sharp, needy pang at the apex of your thighs is thrust back too far in your memory. His hands reach down over your ass to the dress’ hem, where he hikes up the tight material slightly, his fingertips suddenly stroking you through your underwear.

“Please, Soonyoung,” his name feels so right as it escapes your throat, “I need you.”

“Yeah?” His firm grip plants back on your hips, and he catches your stare, deep and lustful. “You’d let me take you home, baby? Are you sure you want this?”

Immediately, you nod your head, arms fastening around his neck. “You can take me anywhere.”

Maybe it’s selfish, but you don’t once consider your friends crowded at the table across the club, nor would you care if they witnessed Soonyoung’s hand slipping beneath your dress to brush your clothed folds, not when a sensation felt that appeasing. He smirks, then briefly turns around, tapping a member of his entourage on the shoulder to exchange another whisper. The only thing you register is your burning excitement when Soonyoung tilts his head in the direction of the backdoor exit.

“C’mon,” he takes your hand, “my place isn’t a far walk.”

Soonyoung seems to live in the esteemed, Grand Plaza that’s no further than a street down from the club. It’s surrounded by the flashy nightlife, and as he pulls you into the foyer, completely marbled and elegant, you infer that he must be paying bigtime in order to maintain an apartment amidst the city’s pumping heart. The second you reach the elevator, he’s already pinned you against the cold metal, his kisses full of aggression and clever tongue that you pathetically whine for.

His palm sneaks up your dress, cupping at your pussy aching for any degree of attention. You grind into his hand and Soonyoung delights at your arousal. In fact, as the elevator nears the appropriate floor, a desire to touch every crevice of your body consumes him. Before you can take in another breath, the sweet pressure deserts your core, his fingers now pulling aside the plunging v of your dress so that he can free your breast, to which he immediately licks and suckles over the soft skin. A small ding resonates from the elevator, though he spends an extra moment lapping at your nipple.

You step away to avoid an embarrassing blunder with the doors and hastily readjust your dress. Once Soonyoung confirms that the corridor is clear, it’s a blitz to his room, his key card shoved carelessly into the slot before he’s dragging you inside. The sight of his apartment admittedly stuns you, particularly the tall, slender windowpanes that reach directly to the floor, the high arch of the ceiling and the diamond chandelier hanging like a celestial object.

Soonyoung touches your waist, pushing your spine to his door. His fingers then graze underneath your dress to the inside of your thigh, where he merely snaps your lace panties against the skin.

“You’re going to be my good little slut for the night, aren’t you?” He asks, his tone dripping much like syrup. You nod without question, and his other hand rests next to your head while he murmurs huskily into your ear, “take your underwear off for me, sweetheart.”

The fabric slides down your legs and drops at your ankles, which you manage to kick away, though you don’t miss the embarrassingly large wet patch that stains the lace. It only amplifies this desperation that’s been blooming inside you, and as Soonyoung slowly drops to his knees, a shaft of moonlight falling across the complete blackness in his eyes, you can’t help the shudder that strings so icily down your back. He begins tucking up the dress until it sits nice and snug over your hips.

Something about the way he gazes at your heat crushes every bit of breath from your lungs. Without warning, Soonyoung nestles his face between your thighs and delivers a long, hard lick, his eyes fluttering open to gauge your contorted expression as his tongue drags against your nerves.

He smirks wolfishly. “You’re so gorgeous, baby. Does your pussy always get this soaked?”

You struggle to articulate when Soonyoung places another lethargic lick with the flat of his tongue, a scoff half-rumbling in his chest while he massages your clit using the slick muscle. Somehow, you find the words, though they sound strangely distant as they echo outside your haze of pleasure.

“N-No, only when I-I think about you.”

Soonyoung’s guttural laugh strikes your core, and with a swift movement, he manages your leg over the back of his shoulder, improving his access to your plentiful wetness. A sharp inhale rushes between your teeth upon the boy sliding his index finger past your slit, until the thick silver ring dissuades him from pushing the digit in any further. He curls it, rubs against your silk to make you moan. Your fingers scratch into the door, not yet sure if you should be rifling them through his locks.

“Yeah? You think about me, baby?” It almost seems like a taunt. “Entertain me then.”

Just as you open your mouth, Soonyoung deviously slips in another finger past your opening, trails of gloss seeping down his hand as he stretches your pulsating warmth.

“I-I imagine this,” even with the boy on his knees and his fingers ticking your sweet spot, it’s still difficult to admit such filth, “I imagine you e-eating me out, n’making me cum.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” He purrs knowingly against your clit, his lips kissing the sensitive bud. “Such a good girl, letting me taste this pretty pussy.”

You hum in agreement, eyes falling shut to bask in the overwhelming sensations and how expertly Soonyoung reads on your slightest twitch or exhale, pinpointing the areas that prominently break you down and render you incoherent. Every so often you feel the cold silver of his rings brush your heat as he continues pumping his fingers, to which Soonyoung notes that your leg always trembles against his shoulder. Smiling, he presses his fingers in further, the rings just touching your inner walls while he swirls his tongue at a slow, thorough pace against your clit, satisfying the ache.

Unable to process the insane pleasure, your spine arches from the door and your fingers latch into the boy’s strong, black roots. You pull up on his scalp, cursing vehemently.

“F-Fuck, Soonyoung! Soso good—nngh—don’t stop, please!”

You almost feel apologetic for his neighbours who must hear these unabashed shouts muffle through his walls each night, though you can’t be bothered to moderate your volume when Soonyoung abuses your g-spot with the deep, consistent massaging of his fingers. He attaches his mouth overtop your clit, his tongue lathering across the bud before he starts flicking it harshly. At that moment, nothing else surges through you but an unprecedented hedonism, and you stuff his face in further to your heat. With your head tossed back against the door, you almost fear how greatly this orgasm builds.

It feels like the pressure situated at your abdomen could burst you open like a water balloon, and the only manner in which you can express the pleasure is to wail helplessly. As Soonyoung’s touch sinks so deliciously against that heavenly spot, his tongue, unrelenting and passionate, working to abuse your swollen bud, your body discovers its incapability to hold out a moment longer. Instead, it crumbles, and with a piercing cry of Soonyoung’s name your arousal gushes onto the boy’s awaiting face.

But he doesn’t wither away or allow the room to stop spinning, rather he delivers a few more vigorous pumps with his fingers and licks over your throbbing bud, all while you feel some of the liquid drip down your inner thigh. Breathing feebly, you tug hard at his scalp in an attempt to make him remove his mouth, for your heat feels raw and swells with oversensitivity.

“Soonyoung, please,” your eyes heavily pull open, “i-it’s hurting too much.”

At last, his fingers retreat from your opening and his mouth allows the cool air to ghost over your flesh. It’s alarming to observe the droplets of your cum that glisten on his face, his lips, so flushed and shiny, yet the boy’s tongue only curls out to collect the arousal.

“Fuck, you’re amazing. Did you know you could squirt, sweetheart?” His smile is cunning. “Or has no one ever treated your pussy that well?”

“I’ve never done it before,” you laugh breathlessly, and your head hits the back of the door as you attempt to process what just happened, “I didn’t know something could feel that good.”

While your fingers brush back his hair, Soonyoung places soft pecks up your inner thigh until he reaches the enflamed skin of your core. He catches your infatuated gaze, ensuring you watch as the very tip of his tongue pushes in shallow past your opening before the muscle circles delicately around your clit. Your hips jerk against his face, to which the immediate reverberations in his chuckle vibrate past your folds. Attentively, Soonyoung kisses the sensitive bud, and then your stomach.

After removing your leg from his shoulder, he rises to his feet, the darkness still dancing in his eyes like a flickering shadow. He feels like a foreboding addiction, one that you can’t give up.

“You’re perhaps the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He compliments, his hand sliding around to stroke the small of your back, his lips just brushing your ear’s shell. “Even better than I imagined.”

Despite the complete filth laced into his speech, his voice somehow contains a tender cadence when he pulls back slightly to murmur against your temple, “now that I know how you taste, I wanna know how you feel, honey. How tight that little pussy is when it’s squeezing around my cock.”

A lightheaded blur emerges from your high, now subsiding, less electric. At the mere thought of Soonyoung pounding you remorselessly into the pillows, your knees begin to wobble and that yearning ache rebuilds itself at your abdomen. To steady yourself, you grip his shoulder, though when you look down, you’re somewhat astounded at the pool of wetness gathered on his floorboards. If just his tongue and fingers could force you to gush, then you wonder how you’ll stay together on his cock.

The trip to his bedroom is all but graceful, rather it’s your legs wrapped snuggly around his waist while his palms splay and squeeze against your ass, your tongues consistently brushing together as you taste yourself from his plump mouth. You had been expecting Soonyoung to just toss you on his bed like an insignificant ragdoll, but to your gratitude, he lays you down gently, spends his next few minutes licking and suckling at your throat. To be marked by him ignites a small grin on your face.

“I want this off, sweetheart,” he demands, tugging at your dress, “do you need help?”

“Yes please. I-I think, with the zipper.” You grunt, reaching behind you to feel the ridges.

After shifting yourself around, Soonyoung stands at the end of the bed, one hand resting on your shoulder blade while the latter undoes the zipper and reveals your back. The little hairs bristle along your skin as you feel a compassionate kiss against the first bump in your spine. Upon helping you slide the fabric down to your waist, Soonyoung’s mouth continues to drift across your shoulder, his hands sliding up your ribs until each hand palms reverently at your breasts. His teeth then dig into a sensitive patch at your neck, giving more vibrance to the low groan that flutters past your lips.

He whispers silkily, “I can’t wait to be inside you, baby. Hm? My good little slut? So beautiful and needy? I can’t wait to fuck you ‘til you’re nice and full.”

Your dress lands somewhere at the base of the mattress, and once your heels are unbuckled, they thump against the floor next to it. Soonyoung guides you into the exact position he desires, which entails your chest flush with his grey bedsheets, cheek sinking against his pillow while your ass pokes into the air. Behind you, there’s the rustle of his clothes being removed, prompting you to wriggle your hips in anticipation and whine for his touch to continue grazing your skin.

His slides off his belt without any particular haste. Impatience prickles, and you moan for him.

“M’so wet, Soonyoung. Please, I need you to fuck me, c-can’t wait anymore.”

You spare a glance over your shoulder, examining his firm torso, the muscles smooth and lithe, how he begins shoving his pants down over his hips. It’s antagonizing.

“I know, honey,” he soothes, his black eyes glistening, “you’ve been so patient for me.”

At last, the mattress dips to suggest that Soonyoung is taking his place behind you, to which you can hear the lewd sound of his hand passing up and down his cock, leaking and painfully hard. Despite the sensitivity lingering from your last orgasm, your entire core still throbs in such overwhelming arousal, a sweltering urge to be stretched completely open. He leans over you, pecking your temple.

“Terrible timing,” Soonyoung laughs, his fingers circling below your navel, “but you are on the pill, right? I’d love a child one day, just not at this exact moment.”

“I am.” You smile, though you aren’t sure how entirely bad it would be to bear his child, and you can’t tell if it’s the gin and tonic finally bleeding through your rationality or the viscid lust.

“Perfect.” He hums, his hand gripping onto one side of your hip while he presses his engorged head into your slick. 

At an indulgent pace, Soonyoung drags himself through your slippery folds and rubs at your clit, a satisfied, low rumble emanating from his chest upon a sight so impure, especially as your gloss coats his length, sticky and wet. Your chest heaves largely at his teasing, engendering you to grind back against his body in a desperate hope to have him split you open.

It’s to your absolute pleasure that Soonyoung obliges. He begins pressing his cock in past your opening, your jaw falling slack until he’s digging in as far as he can fit, inducing the delicious stretch that ripples throughout your body. You breathe in raggedly and hiss his name between clenched teeth, fingers curling into the bedsheets once he’s grounded himself enough to start thrusting.

“O-Oh ffuck,” Soonyoung slurs, swallowing tautly, “you’re such a tight little bitch, hm? Just begging for me to ruin this pretty fucking pussy. I’ve waited so long for this, baby. You have no idea.”

He clutches your hips and slams you back onto his cock, grinding himself so deep inside you that the edges of your vision speckle with white dots. While it’s a bit tough for you to admit that your last sexual encounter had been months ago, it only seems to enhance how wonderful each sensation is now, how euphoric it is to feel his length rub against your inner heat and tick all those aching spots that your own fingers fail to prod. Soonyoung shifts onto his one knee, and suddenly he’s striking a newfound depth. You can’t help the loud squeal bursting from your mouth as he bruises your hips.

Suddenly, the boy is reaching for your arm. It’s pinned behind your back, his fingers latched around the wrist while his other hand threads against your scalp.

“That’s it, babygirl,” he growls upon shoving your cheek into the pillow, “scream for me, just like that. Let everyone know how much of a slut you are.”

With an unrelenting pace, he snaps into you, and the obscene noises of your heat sucking in his cock echo endlessly around the bedroom. At this point, you’re completely void of shame. As Soonyoung pounds into you, his hand ironclad around your wrist, your desire to cum warps into a critical essentiality. The tears stream hot and abundant down your face, muddling your makeup.

“H-Harder, Soonyoung! Please! Give it to me harder!”

“Yeah?” The sweat gleams on the column of his neck, black hair tousling before his eyes that shine mercilessly. “My pretty little slut wants it harder? You want me to fucking break you, baby?”

You don’t care if your body cracks in half like a ceramic. The way his cock is pressing consistently and roughly against that pliant, sensitive spot, it’s the only sensation you can feel. Even his fingers helping to smother your cheek against the pillow, damp with your tears and drool, is a sting rather infinitesimal compared to the pleasure. A cold breath expands in your lungs, and you take advantage of it to plead with Soonyoung, your voice falling apart at the seams while you beg to cum.

Unable to deny you, he takes it upon himself to fuck you so hard that the bedframe slaps into the wall. Soonyoung has already adapted to that spot which makes you weep, and he bites his lip harshly while abusing it with the head of cock. Your body immediately attempts to twist itself up as the ecstasy splatters like rain, though Soonyoung uses his grip on your arm and hair to keep you in position, instead forcing you to take the stimulation until you’re erratically clenching around him.

“Right there, honey? Does it feel good when my cock hits you right fuckin’ there? Huh?”

“Fuck, Soonyoung!” Your howl pierces the dense air, and he can tell you’re sobbing. “M’cumming!”

He tosses his head back as you convulse around him, the juices dripping down the back of your thighs while your world momentarily fades. You’re clamping against his cock with such warmth and silk that Soonyoung releases only a minute later, his seed thickly coating the inside of your heat, his length throbbing with every hot spurt. His guttural cursing subsides into laboured breaths. You feel his hands leave your wrist and hair, retreating to their favoured hold on your hips where he manages to deliver a few more thrusts, languid enough for him to watch his cum get pumped back inside you.

Spent in every single manner, you possess only a dying wisp of energy. You whimper and tremble at the vacancy when Soonyoung removes his cock, a feeling you never thought could be this horrible. Not soon after, his cum slowly pools from your opening, trailing down the inside of each thigh, to which he slightly stretches your ass in order to see just how much he’s emptied into you.

“I can’t believe you’re this beautiful,” he sounds mesmerized, “fuck, baby. Just look at you, so full of my cum. I’ve waited so fucking long to see you like this.”

Soonyoung then leans forward, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine.

“My good little girl. Perfect, aren’t you? Just for me?”

His soft chuckle is somehow a comforting sound, even when your body collapses against his sheets and there’s nothing you’re able to do but nod in agreement. You’re purely exhausted in the afterglow, too tired to even care that his cum is spilling out of you or that you’ve completely deserted your friends at the club. Soonyoung kisses a trail up your back and stops at your shining temple. You can’t tell if he ever joined you in bed or not, though he did stay with you for a few minutes afterward, rubbing your back, brushing his lips over shoulders, a beaming praise whispered every now and then.

You just know you fell asleep smiling.

By the fragile light of morning, you hear Soonyoung’s voice. It doesn’t seem as though he’s beside you or even sitting atop the bed, more like he’s standing somewhere distant. The dimness to the room helps your eyes adjust, and with a low groan you turn your back to the window, snuggling into one of the boy’s cold pillows. When you peek downward, you notice that a decent-sized blue blanket had been strewn across your waist, which you quickly pull further up your body to hide from the cool air. Through the fuzziness, you spot Soonyoung leaning against the doorframe to his washroom.

He’s partially dressed, wearing his black pants while a towel hangs around the back of his neck. The bathroom mirror is smudged with fog and slipping beads of vapour. It isn’t until you hear his quiet voice for the second time that you realize Soonyoung is speaking with someone over the phone. Your eyes fall shut as you attempt to concentrate on snippets of the conversation.

“Fine, we’ll meet at the abandoned hanger off Lake Avenue… Yeah… Just the handgun… Isn’t that too many though?... No, no, not the stash at East End… If he shows up then it’s fucked… That’s what I’m assuming… Okay, sure… Call me back after noon.”

Then, Soonyoung hangs up his phone and slides it with a sigh into his pants pocket. Your eyes open wide again, and you blink a few times to properly clear the sleepy, clinging remnants. Not wanting to overstay your welcome and become a potential hinderance, you slowly shuffle up in his bed, the blue blanket pooling around your hips.

“Did you sleep well?” Soonyoung inquires, tossing the towel from his neck onto the bed.

Pulling the blanket up to your chin, you nod at him. “Yeah, I did,” your voice has yet to lose its monotone rasp, “who were you talking with?”

“Just a friend.” He replies.

Soonyoung walks toward a desk placed across from the bed, picking up a white dress shirt that he slips into. He leaves the front unbuttoned, though he cuffs up the long, flimsy sleeves.

“Hey, do you think I could take a quick bath or something? I promise I won’t be long.”

As he continues to adjust the sleeves, he shrugs. “Yeah, you want me to start it?”

“It’s fine.” You decline politely.

Though the moment you swing your legs over the edge of the bed and prepare to stand, a doubtful inkling has you rethinking that choice. A resounding soreness thumps at your core, the marrow of your hips, yet you pretend that your muscles feel nothing like gelatine and attempt to take your first steps after such a rigorous night. Soonyoung watches in amusement, for your knees immediately begin wobbling while that deep-rooted ache has you buckling to the carpet.

When you look up, cheeks heated from embarrassment, Soonyoung is standing before you baring a fond smile.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” He inquires again, folding some black hair behind his ear.

“No,” you sigh, “I’m sorry. I need help, please?”

“All you have to do is ask, sweetheart.”

Soonyoung proceeds to bend down, tucking you carefully against his chest while your arms loop in a secure fashion around his neck. Feeling like a moonstruck bride whose being carried off to her honeymoon, you can’t evade the tiny smile that flits from each corner of your mouth, and it sticks coyly, even when Soonyoung sets you down on the closed toilet in order to run the bath water. You realize you’re going to need your dress, heels, the lace underwear that’d been deserted by his doorway.

Swallowing nervously, you watch as warm water fills the tub.

“I’m sorry to keep bothering you, but do you think you could grab my clothes? A-And I might need to use your phone, since I never took my purse with me last night. My friends are probably worried.”

He stands from the porcelain edge, a laugh rumbling in his chest, “why are you so apologetic?”

“I don’t know,” you quickly shrink into yourself when Soonyoung’s gaze falls over you, hardly as poisonousness compared to the night before, “I don’t want to be an inconvenience if you’re busy, and you just seem like a busy person.”

“And I also fucked you so hard that you can’t even walk.” He reasons lightheartedly, keeping an eye on the bathtub, “I don’t mind, honey. I’ll get your clothes, okay? I’ll take care of you.”

At least if he’s a poison, it’s a sweet one.

“Don’t worry about your friends either,” Soonyoung comments, at last shutting off the faucet while thin steam curls into the air, “One of my guys told them you’d be safe. They know where you are.”

“Really? Thanks.”

He baffles you; he feels mysterious yet personable. You want to ask him what he does for a living, especially upon recounting his earlier phone call, though you dismiss the question when Soonyoung helps you slide into the tub. The hot water works magnificently to relieve the soreness from your muscles, and though it’s a bit uncomfortable to squeeze back into that tight, black dress and the expensive heels, at least you’re able to walk (as long as you keep a hand flush against the wall).

Thankfully, Soonyoung helps you toward the front door of his apartment. A one-night stand has never felt so painful to leave behind, and you’re overwhelmed with poignancy as you wonder why you had never approached him sooner. He announces that there’s a driver stationed out front the Plaza, in a jet-black car you don’t catch the name of, and that you only have to lend him your address.

“He’ll take you home.” Soonyoung assures you.

Already, you find it astonishingly natural to trust him, engendering your hesitance as you stand in the corridor wishing you could somehow stay.

“What if I want to see you again?” You pipe up, catching his gaze.

Your heart is racing, and warmth dapples each arch of your cheek.

Soonyoung steps forward, cupping your face in his palms, his soft mouth pressing to yours while a fragrant, winter mint cuts sharp to your senses.

“You know where to find me, sweetheart.” He responds casually, and smiles as though he knows you’ll come back to him. “See you around.”

✧✎ a/n: i am handing out water bottles down here guys, it’s okay i got you covered! after not writing serious smut for so long, it just FELT SO? BIZARRE? TO TAMPER WITH IT AGAIN. like i remember the times when i could write smut with a straight face and you’d think i was typing my will or something. anywho. I REALLY HOPE IT SATISFIED SOME OF U!! and WHAT DO U THINK THE SECRET AU IS HEHEHEH

[twsted-mirrors]

THE CASINO

DEMON ! AZUL / ARCHANGEL ! S/O

hiii! here’s another addition to the angels/demons au! here’s the first one !

“You were...Apprehensive, to say the least. Really, who wouldn’t be, in this situation?”

Being assigned to your first mission on Earth as a solo operation, even as an Archangel, isn’t exactly...safe?

Especially not when said solo operation is to scope out a notorious demon’s hideout. 

Have we mentioned that this is by herself?

You had no idea what your superiors were thinking. Yeah, you normally trusts the judgement of the two seraphim, but this...even with the tiny team, this is excessive.

Your halo had been discarded before you teleported to a block from the...loud building, the two sets of wings are neatly tucked away. Now, the only thing left is your pure energy. There was a potion you was given, but it was...experimental, and only half-reliable, at best.

Still, better than nothing, you guesses.

The target was a rather coveted aquatic demon, known as Azul Ashengrotto on Earth, but nicknamed Ursula by the Heavens. He gained temporary, but admittedly formidable, power through making contracts, conning the subject out of their belongings, or often their soul.

Then there were the two lackeys. A set of changeling twins, known as Jade and Floyd, or Jetsam and Flotsam. They balance each other out in brains and brawn respectively. Combine that with their service to Ursula, and it’s no wonder they’re all such high-priced targets. You could probably contend for a promotion to Seraphim for taking them down alone.

Their suspected hideout was a casino, likely started by Ursula himself, called “Mostro Lounge”. It was surprisingly hidden between other buildings, but you could smell the darkness, the sin, from half a block away. Ugh.

Remember what everyone told you, look confident, fake it until you make it… That was the latest mantra you were using to calm down.

You’re so fucked, Maker help you.

You finally arrive at the entrance, seeing the (human, after taking a second glance) bouncer take a quick once-over before nodding. Good, you can go in.

Man, if outside was loud, then the inside is screaming. The general color scheme is neon blue, which seems to wash over everything in an overhead hue. Jazz could be heard in the background as patrons filed in and out of the entrance lounge.

There’s the casino, the bistro, and the...rooms? Huh, nobody was made aware of a redlight district in this town, you think. The casino seems like a good start. Get a drink, mingle, fit in. Do what you were trained for.

Except...that didn’t go too well.

You had gotten halfway through some sort of fruity drink in a martini glass and were only approached by three humans before an employee approached, saying “The boss has requested for you.”

You almost passed out right there.

Fuck, not like you could flee by now, you were already noticed by Ursula. Doing anything would most certainly cause a scene, which could cause any kind of shitshow, with humans’ natural unpredictability. Not to mention, somebody will film it, for sure. Especially if someone ends transforming from their vessels.

You really had no choice but to follow.

The employee, dressed in a powder blue and lilac suit, had taken you through a “back route” to...the “rooms” section of the building. After an uncomfortably long elevator ride, you were handed off to--fuck. It’s the changelings.

Motherfucker. Should now be a good time to send a distress signal? The one seraph should be close to finished with scouting the Demon King’s hideout, and both the other seraph and the simple angel are both idle…

“Right this way, Miss.” The one on the left (more composed, structured, must be Jetsam), bows with his left hand on his right breast. 

(Thoughts are running through your head, ones you’re trying to ignore. Disgusting, revolting, vile, impure, sinful, unworthy--)

You step forward, following. Another walk, another long corridor, another uncomfortable, loaded silence. Like the air is embedded in gunpowder, able to be lit with the tiniest spark.

The other one, Flotsam, is perched at the doorway, the stupidest fucking grin on his face.

(You just want to tear that face off. Look, enjoy my efforts, congratulate me on me work, be proud of me, look at how unworthy they are to be in my presence, just like you told me--)

He opens the door. You walk in. The changelings follow, closing it behind you, and then standing guard. 

It was a large room, filled to the brim with decorations revolving around the sea, two large leather couches, stands for good and drinks…

And then the desk. A large, oak desk, with the man himself sitting behind it. 

He was somewhat different from what you expected—namely not towering over you—but he was very intimidating in his own right. A thin young man, with pale skin and even paler white hair, wearing a three piece suit and fedora, the same color scheme as that employee—and the changelings—.

“—aha, my, my, my, and just what do we have here? A little guppy that’s snooped her way into my lounge?” His voice is smooth, taking a slightly deep tone. No wonder he gets so many human clients, he could probably talk himself in or out of whatever he wants.

You freeze. The vessel’s stomach churns. “I wasn’t snooping. I just wanted to have a few drinks, maybe have a few games. What’s wrong with that?” Remember your training, remember your training, remember—.

Flotsam has the gall to giggle from behind you. 

Ursula stands, grabbing a pen from the desk, “Aha! Bullshit. Oh, honey,” He’s walking towards you, “I could smell that stench since you teleported in a block away.”

He’s right in front of you, leaning down to match your height. You try to turn your head, look anywhere but at him, but he’s already acting.

Ursula pushes the pen below your chin, forcing your head up. He taps it once, twice, until you finally look at him.

“There we go, that’s a good guppy.”

“W… what? What the hell are you talking about?” You think you’re going to combust.

“Oh, don’t you play coy with me, little arch,” He leans up, removing the pen (and intense stare), “Jade, Floyd. Hold their arms.”

In an instant, Your arms are held behind you, one by each twin. You have to send the distress signal. Focus, focus…

“And just how…” He’s back in front of you, but this time, looming, rather than in your face like before. He reaches a gloved hand around the waist, to the back, two fingers pressing on the vessel’s middle of the spine. “...Are you going to compensate me?”

You yell, your wings being forcibly torn from the tuck in the back.

You can’t hesitate anymore, the distress signal’s been sent out. The scent of pure fear fills the room, causing Ursula to reel back, and the twins—Jade and Floyd—to weaken their hold on your arms, just for a second.

But a second was all you needed.

A portal of light opened beneath you, with you dropping down, and shut as quick as it opened.

Your seraph had communicated through the link—you had done more than enough for her mission, it was time to help your other seraph, who was being pursued by an extremely strong Fallen One.

The previous events had to be pushed to the back of your mind. That could wait for debriefing, there were other things to focus on, right now.

[djarinsbeskar]

What are your top five drink orders (including non-alcoholic)?

Cat---💜

I always know its gonna be a good day (okay it's 2am here shh) when I see you in my inbox or notifications!

Let's see... Including non-alcoholic? Hmm..

Gunpowder Gin and Elderflower Tonic

Martini (I'm looking at one particular one in Noname that will slaughter you after about 2 of them it's ridiculous)

Vodka and lime (somehow this is easier to drink in summer hmmm)

Margarita (yes I love tequila I'm sorry)

Baby Guinness for the shots! Creamy and delicious~

Yes there's nothing non-alcohol I'm aware, looks off. BUT that's mainly because I order boring things like tea and bottled water. Blame it on my Irish

[afoolandathief]

[ID: The phrase "Something Wicked Playlist" imposed over a red and black image of a record on a record player. End description.]

Music is something I feel is baked into, if not the story of Something Wicked, then at least the process of writing it. I figure, if I don't ever actually build a full playlist, I can share the songs that have inspired me, or that I feel my characters would not stop listening to, in this running post.

Some songs below the cut:

Caz's Playlist

Frank Sinatra - Witchcraft

Electro Swing Circus - Valentine

Ella Fitzgerald - It's Only a Paper Moon

Imelda May - Tainted Love

Ivy Levan - Hot Damn

Queen - Save Me

Josephine Baker - Blue Skies

Imelda May - It's Good to be Alive

Green Day - Fashion Victim

The Fratellis - Halloween Blues

Postmodern Jukebox - Die Young

Elvis - Devil in Disguise

Postmodern Jukebox - Dancing in the Dark

Imelda May - Big Bad Handsome Man

ABBA - Mama Mia

Regina Spektor - Small Bills

ABBA - Fernando

Amy Winehouse - Rehab

Led Zeppelin - Immigrant Song

Sweet - Ballroom Blitz

The Foundations - Build Me Up Buttercup

Sophie Milman - Ochi Chornye

Frank Sinatra - Blue Moon

Peggy Lee - Why Don't You Do Right

Britney Spears - Toxic

Pink Martini - Amado Mio

fun. - All the Pretty Girls

Queen - Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

Postmodern Jukebox - Closer (NIN)

Jefferson Airplane - Somebody to Love

Jade's Playlist

The Offspring - You're Gonna Go Far, Kid

Against Me! - I Was a Teenage Anarchist

Paramore - Brick by Boring Brick

Gorillaz - Clint Eastwood

My Chemical Romance - Na Na Na

Fall Out Boy - I Don't Care

The Pretty Reckless - Take Me Down

Green Day - Warning

The Picturebooks - Hands of Time

Eve 6 - Promise

Lit - My Own Worst Enemy

The Weakerthans - Plea from a Cat Named Virtute

Against Me! - Unconditional Love

Sum 41 - In Too Deep

Marianas Trench - All To Myself

My Chemical Romance - Teenagers

Jimmy Eat World - Bleed American

The Mountain Goats - How to Embrace a Swamp Creature

Fall Out Boy - This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race

Amelia's Playlist

Carrie Underwood - Cowboy Casanova

Miranda Lambert - Sin for a Sin

Dead Posey - God's Gonna Cut You Down

Lilly Hiatt - Big Bad Wolf

Nancy Sinatra - These Boots Are Made For Walkin'

Kellie Pickler - Where's Tammy Wynette

Shania Twain - Any Man of Mine

The Wreckers - Leave the Pieces

Miranda Lambert - Gunpowder & Lead

Sara Evans - Suds in the Bucket

Pistol Annies - Hell on Heels

Inspo Playlist

The Civil Wars - Barton Hollow

MILCK - Take Me To Church

The Devil Makes Three - Aces and Twos

Suzanne Santo - Blood on Your Knees

Image made via Canva.

[venors]

@wtrss​                           ◜       “  there’s    worse    ways    to    go.   ”     ◞

the  chill  of  the  mojave  desert  is  still  felt  ghosting  over  her  skin  like  a  crooned  whisper,  causing  skin  and  goosebumps  to  prickle  all  over.  hairs  standing  on  end.  faint  scents  of  gunpowder,  cigarettes,  cheap  cologne  —  they  all  melded  together  into  the  cocktail  of  that  night,  harder  than  any  martini  sylvie  had  drank  at  the  atomic  wrangler  casino  in  freeside.  while  there  was  truth  in  that  statement,  this  was  not  death,  her  physical  form  had  not  gone  anywhere.  it  was  something  tethering  her  to  this  place.  purgatory,  limbo,  whatever  place  you  chose  to  believe  in.  it  was  the  in    —  between.  the  scar  hidden  by  platinum  bangs  had  long  since  healed,  but  the  mental  scar  felt  as  fresh  as  ever.  out  of  all  the  things  that  could  kill  you  in  the  mojave:  deathclaws,  radiation,  ghouls,  the  last  thing  sylvie  expected  was  a  prick  in  a  checked  suit. 

❛❛       i  —...  maybe.  but  being  out  there,  on  your  knees,  at  someone  else’s  mercy.  i’d  rather  the  bullet  have  just  killed  me.     ❜❜     chest  brings  in  a  deep  breath.     ❛❛      don’t  suppose  you  smoke?    ❜❜