#actually made this a little while back for a bit in a server

[whereispearlescentmoon]

A ficlet based on the idea that the snails just hang around after the end of the session and also reflect their respective players true feelings. (yes I saw the one someone made earlier about Pearl’s snail with Gem but I had this written already and I’m not gonna not post it just because someone else posted the idea first.)

Pearl was, frankly, sick and tired of the snails. She kept checking the seams of their new base to ensure that nothing can get in. Her fingernails had bits of debris caught underneath them from each time she ran them over the corners, over the grout holding the cobblestone walls together, over everything. Grian said the snails won’t want to kill them anymore, but Pearl wasn’t taking any chances. Cleo and Scott seemed content to have theirs hanging around, and even Impulse wasn’t as wary, but while she thought they were cute at first, it’s a little less cute when they’ve killed you twice.

“Aw look at it! It loves Scott!” Cleo cooed happily. Pearl was actually trying very hard NOT to look at Cleo’s especially. Like Cleo, it was stitched together of green undead flesh. But unlike Cleo, Pearl had no affection for it and thus her disgust overpowered anything else. When she did take a glance at her teammates, Scott was happily patting ZombieSnail’s shell as it snuggled into him. Snailjor was similarly content to curl up against Cleo, who was petting it almost like a cat.

Impulse was reacting a bit more normally in Pearl’s opinion. ISnail was following him around as he changed into a more comfortable set of clothes to sleep in (cargo shorts are very practical, but not very soft), occasionally nudging at Impulse’s ankle. It made Pearl ache to be back on Hermitcraft, with Olive getting in her way as she tidied up. They had to stay the normal length of the session though, even if they had cut the killing short. It would be a few more days before anyone could go anywhere.

Then there was Pearl’s own snail. It was, frankly, nowhere to be seen. It seemed to want as little to do with her as she did with it. Oh well. Another soul bound (that is what Grian had called them, right? It seemed like he was making things up to torment Pearl specifically at this point) rejecting her. Whatever.

Maybe she had spoken too soon, she thought, as a light rustling came from outside the walls. It was followed by the sound of those stupid propellers the things had been using to fly around all session.

“I’m not in the mood, dude,” Pearl called out, as she, like Impulse, searched their chests for the sleep shorts she had brought. As her back was turned, she could hear the snail still approaching, and sighed as its cold and slimy body nudged against her leg. “Seriously, can you just-“

Her words caught in her throat as she looked down at the snail. Instead of the brown shell, navy blue jacket, and oddly long hair that she had been running from all session, there was a light orange shell and little set of overalls. Gem’s then. Pearl crouched beside it, eying it suspiciously. She still really didn’t get why Gem was so angry at her, but it couldn’t be a good sign that her murder snail was here.

“What’s up little Gem?” Pearl asked, putting her hand out. The snail, predictably, bit her, drawing blood with its oddly sharp teeth. Pearl drew back with a yelp, curling the hand into her jacket. “Dang it! Jeez Louise Gem, if you wanted to kill me outside of session time, wait till we’re back home at least,”

And home had been odd, frankly. It seemed like Gem might have been avoiding her on Hermitcraft. The Life Series wasn’t normally like that. It got kind of fuzzy when you weren’t in the server proper. Only a couple of weeks after Pearl had slaughtered them both in Double Life, she had been planning with Impulse and laughing with Cleo. She had done some clean up for Scar the same week she had put up a wall between her and the Clockers. Hell, even right after Secret Life her and Gem had hung out like nothing was the matter, chatting about the series casually. Something about being back here had dug up feelings Gem had clearly chosen not to address with her, and could Pearl really be blamed for that? No, she decided, and she wouldn’t take Gem’s snail letting out those feelings like this either.

“Whoa, what happened?” Scott had come rushing over at Pearl’s yelp. She sighed, gesturing with her now bleeding finger. Scott hissed through his teeth, “Woof, that’s nasty. What did you do to tick off Gem’s snail?”

Pearl growled, frustrating welling up. “The same thing I’ve done to Gem! Nothing! It came up to me to bite me! I literally didn’t do anything!”

Scott put his hands up, looking for all the world like he didn’t believe her.

“Alright, alright, let me look at that finger then, don’t want it to get infected. You’ve already lost more lives than you can afford.” His tone was joking, but Pearl couldn’t help but be a little hurt. She wasn’t trying to lose lives! Really! She didn’t want to win, but she didn’t want to go out first. It was just hard with the wild cards to find her normal footing.

Usually in these games her biggest strength was the ability to hide and outlast her opponents, but the twists had made that impossible. She was a good fighter, could hold her own when inevitably there was only a handful of people left and she had to fight, but she usually avoided getting involved until then. Now, she might be dead before those final bloodbath days, when the whole server was red and all was going to hell, even happened.

While Scott took the time to properly clean out the cut, the snail nudged at Pearl’s ankle again. She shook it off with a frustrated huff.

“See what I mean? It’s trying to come up to me! What am I supposed to do about that?” Scott finished wrapping her finger and looked down at the snail, which seemed frankly uninterested in him, beady green eyes fixated on Pearl alone.

“Maybe it’s like an abused cat,” he proposed, “It wants to show you affection but when you do it back, it starts hissing and biting. You’ve just got to let it come to you and pretend you don’t even notice it,”

“Or, we could leave it outside the base and hope it goes back to Gem?” She suggested, hopefully. Scott gave her an exasperated look.

“Didn’t it fly over the wall to get her in the first place?” Pearl pouted and huffed, crossing her arms.

She titled her head to get a good look at the snail. Her right eye had gone red tinted and it made it harder to see out of, forcing her to crane her neck at odd angles to see with the left. The Gem snail had come crawling back and was circling the log Pearl had sat down on. Every subsequent circle, it got closer and closer, until it was brushing Pearl’s leg. Finally, as Pearl sat still so as to not provoke another attack, it settled on the log beside her, leaning its weight against her thigh. Pearl ignored it pointedly, holding back a shudder at the weird feeling of its slug-like body.

It wasn’t until the next morning that the Gem snail finally left. Pearl had barely been able to sleep, halfway between comforted and afraid of the thing snoozing beside her. She didn’t want to provoke it. She hadn’t wanted to provoke Gem. Maybe she was doing all of this wrong. Or maybe Gem was. Either way, she just wanted to go home and have things be normal again.

Somewhere, in the forest, Pearlescentsnail found a tree and climbed up it to sleep. She looked around, making sure there was no one else there, sank into her shell, and stayed there until the session ended. She went out alone.

[transzsonix]

happy october everyone

[solardrop]

beanstalk.

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: a loser at the local pub thinks spencer is your boyfriend. Aaron drags him. tags: fluff. creepy men being creepy. body shaming (of spencer I'm so sorry). spencer just catching strays in general. word count: ~1.7k a/n: based on an ask. I was gonna just write my thoughts or a short 500 word drabble or something but then ended up writing this until the point I forced myself to just end it lmao. I think it gets a bit convoluted and cringe at the end but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it was fun! not proofread. divider cred @/cafekitsune

The pub was going to the rue the day they made half-off appetizers their weekly special.

The team squeezed in two pushed-together tables and binged on the greasy delights. you and Spencer had gotten into sharp back and forth about the apocalypse on the way there, which earned the both of you a quick banishing to a corner of the table where the rest of the team wouldn’t be subject to your bickering.

You rest your head against the cool concrete pillar you were sandwiched against. A table pressed against a half-wall facing outdoors was a hard sell to a bunch of field agents. However, Penelope’s animated declaration for the team to ‘live a little’ —specifically, to do so before Rossi got any greyer— landed you a wonderful view of the outdoors. You could watch all the homey, drunken people sway to the music flowing from the patio. The crisp night air flushes the overwhelming smell of burnt grease away from your nose. Maybe you could convince Hotch to grab a window seat for some date nights, you have to admit, the vibes were growing on you. While you enjoy poking the brain of your younger genius friend, you miss the solid warmth of Aaron beside you. Thankfully, he opted to sit in front of you instead. 

You took the opportunity to tease him. You kick him playfully under the table, stealing his attention away from the conversation he is having with Derek. He turns to squint at you for a moment, only to grab your food to sandwich it between the wall and his thigh in retaliation. His fingers drum a steady rhythm against your ankle, the ticklish tap tap tap making you squirm. You motion to ensnare his ankle with your other leg when Spencer turns to point his flimsy white plastic fork at you. 

“If emergency services were still in full effect during the zombie apocalypse, there would be a drastic increase in the number of people infected and a significant loss in—”

“A significant loss in medical supplies. Spoken like a true prepper Reid. What's next, gonna tell me about the importance of learning how to pickle your own food for rationing?”

“Actually, during the Great Depression housewives pickles things that lasted their families almost—”

His impending rant is cut short by the return of your server. Anticipating the bill, Rossi reached for his wallet before the woman shakes her head at him. Instead, sliding a drink and a folded up napkin on the table and nodding her head at you. 

“For the lovely young miss by the window.” She flashes a smile at you, “One of our lovely patons seems to fancy you.”

All eyes snap to you, all the color draining from your face as you stare down at the offending item. The drink was almost glowing at you, bright pink glitter swirling in the liquid with pink gummy hearts floating at the top and crystal sugar bedazzling the rim. There was no way this was actually something for the human body to consume. Even Penelope’s brows raised in shock at its extreme display. 

You glance at Hotch, his leg picking up a steady bounce next to yours after the waitresses revelation. His face is hardened, jaw rocking back and forth as he glares at the folded paper next to the drink. You clear your throat and face the woman again.

“Can you tell me who sent this?”

She juts her sharp chin over your head towards one of the outdoor tables. Hotch’s neck cranes around before your own, and you lock eyes with an older man sitting a few tables down. His face was unpleasantly square, the outdated sandy mullet crowning his head doing him no favors either. He raises his beer bottle towards you with a wink. You shiver, scooting closer to Spencer when the admirer hauls himself out of his stool to stride towards you. Aaron has turned almost fully towards outside now, his brow raised.

“Ohh this is gonna be good,” JJ whispers from the other side of Reid. The comment earns her a sharp glare from Hotch, a blush burning in her cheeks as she goes back to nursing her cheeto-crusted mozzarella sticks.

“I just don’t understand,” Spencer starts, “There are seven other people at this table including men at this table why would he be bold enough to-”

A sharp knock sounder off the ledge of the short wall. 

“Well, hello darlin’. I don’t mean to interrupt the dinner with your friends here, Hello friends, m’  names Miles!” He flashed his eyes around the table with a toothy, mustached smile. 

“But i couldn’t help but see your pretty little face in this window ‘ere and I had to buy ya’ a drink!” 

“Ah… Thank you but um-”

“Don’t even sweat it beautiful!” Small specs of saliva fly from his mouth, causing even Spencer to jump back pulling on the hem of your shirt. As if to use you as a human shield from the germs the man was spewing in his general direction. Hooray. Your hero. 

“I even wrote my number on that there lil’ napkin for ya’. My momma raised a gentleman, so I gotta buy you more than a lil liquor before I take you down.” His beady eyes shoot down to your cleavage before snapping back to your face, licking his lip. 

The fingers on your ankles pause at this. Aaron stares down the side of the mans face, lips pressd into a fine line spread across his face. You decide to jump in before your boyfriend takes it upon himself to tear the mystery man a new one.

“Listen, I appreciate the sentiment but, I’m here to have dinner with my friends and my boyfriend so… I could pay you back for the drink? No harm done-”

“Boyfriend!?” He steps back, eyes scanning the table once more before landing on Spencer and snorting. 

“This lil’ stringbean? You can’t possibly be serious” He smiles at Spencer before he continues “Jack and the beanstalk here could barely muscle steel so ya’ll stuck him with plastic,” He waves a crooked finger aimlessly around the table, “And you expect me to believe he’s wrangling a fine figure like yourself down every night?”

That seems to hit a sore spot for Reid, who finally peeps his head from around you. He takes the moment to ramble about the millions of germs and pathogens that could be found on community utensils even after a full wash cycle. Much to the dismay of the creep and team alike, so much so that Derek had to nudge him with his foot. With the conclusion of Spencer’s monologue the man continues

“Anyways, darlin’ for one night let me take you for a spin. Lil' boy like that won't do ya' any good. I promise you only a bigger, older man knows how to really take care of someone crafted as fine as you.” His eyes lower to your chest again and stay there. 

“I assure you she already knows that,” Aaron spits. 

Your eyes snap to his face. He seemd deceptively calm now, his expression almost bored. 

“Pardon?” Miles asks, half-heartedly turning his body towards him. 

“I’ll put it like this for you Miles. Stringbean over here isn’t her boyfriend,” Spencer begins to squeak out in opposition to his new pet name, but Hotch’s voice bellows out above his own, “I know you’re pathetic, that was apparent from the moment you walked up here puffing your chest after buying the cheapest drink on the menu as a gift. But I’m almost surprised you made your impotence so obvious too, considering you made eye contact with everyone you view as non threatening, the women, the man in his late years, the kid.”

Aaron lazily cocks his head towards Morgan, “But not me and my friend here in the corner. But I’m sure you thought you got away with that. Now, I’d suggest you move. The cologne you sprayed to mask the smell of Motel 8 is starting to wear off.”

Your ears warm at his words. Every sharp word honeyed by his calm, almost sweet tone. He spoke as if he was reading the well thought out profile of an elusive crimminal instead of just some ass in a sit down. God you wanted to kiss him. He’d have to let team politics go just this once right? Just a thank you peck. 

Before you can move to move ask him for one, Miles sputters out, “Talkin’ to me like I’m some dumbass— Who the hell d’ya think you are man!?”

Each syllable causes a spray of spit to launch out his mouth, forcing you to scoot even closer to spencer to evade the line of fire. His face shines with sweat and grease, red rising from his shirt collar as he barks at Hotch’s words. 

“I’m her man. Her bigger, older man. But I’m sure you already knew that, since you still refuse to look at me.” Aaron reaches down into his pockets, flipping out his credentials with deft fingers, “And I’m also an agent. As is everyone at the table including the woman you’ve spent the past several minutes sexually harassing.” He scowls, “Now, go sit down and shut the hell up.”

Miles' eyes finally rip away from you to meet his now. The angered flush erupts across his whole body now. He opens his mouth several times before closing it again, iced out by the cold stare Hotch gives him. He turns on his heel and marches back to his table without a fight. He sniffs his collar before jumping back in clear disgust.

A beat passes and the whole table erupts into laughter at the absurd happenings. Aaron’s face softens, still frowning in the general direction of the slimy man. Jolting when Derek claps him on the back and shakes him in praise. 

“Alright Hotch! Racing to defend your girl, I didn’t know you had it like that!”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” You stretch across the table to grasp his hand, kissing his knuckles before he could protest. He envelopes your hand in both of his and gives you a warm smile,  “my man is my hero in and out of the field.” He breathes out a laugh, knocking his knee against yours for your teasing. 

“Next time, you and String Bean get into it, we’re doing a different seating arrangement.”

[hausofwoo]

swallow | park seonghwa

pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader

word count: 5.6K

this is part 2 of open wide! if you have not yet read part 1, i highly suggest reading it first.

summary: ever since that night, seonghwa has been avoiding you. but when new guy yunho starts at the restaurant, tensions rise until it reaches a breaking point.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender!seonghwa, server!reader, enemies to lovers trope, smoking (cigarette), alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all), dick slapping, biting, cumplay, oral (f receiving), face sitting, creampie, degrading, use of petnames (princess, baby), the passion is T H E R E, woosan allegations once again, feat. new guy!yunho, server/work bestie!ryujin, servers!wooyoung and san, restaurant manager!hongjoong.

author's note: i already intended on making a part 2 of open wide, and everyone's feedback was so sweet and helpful on part 1! thank u again to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers as always :-) plz enjoy ♡ ✧*

your eyes flutter open to the birds chirping outside. it’s way too fucking early to be awake right now. you feel yourself in a half-dream half-awake state, mind fuzzy and floaty. you turn your head to the side to see the man you spent the night with; the man who made you feel so good.

you rub your eyes a bit, attempting to wipe away the sleepiness. your vision adjusts, and you take a deeper look at him. seonghwa.

he really is beautiful. perfectly plump lips, long eyelashes, and there’s something about the way his nose is just a liiiiittle bit bumped at the bridge. even in his flaws you find beauty. you can’t resist gazing at him while he sleeps, his hair all messy in his face. why is it that he is so beautiful, yet the way he treats you is so far from that?

he shifts a bit, letting out a gentle sigh. your eyes begin to droop again, and you feel yourself drift off to the sound of his soft breathing.

when you wake, your bed feels cold. he left. you sit up slowly, stretching your arms up to ring out the exhaustion from your body. you look back at the empty spot next you.

it’s interesting that he left without a word, but you don’t know what to make out of it. before last night, you clearly couldn’t stand each other. you thought he was conceited and condescending. he was rude. and even during last night, his ego pooled over. but was the mere thought of missing him childish? you can’t help but to feel like there was something more to it. there was something on a deeper level that made you curious, therefore you wanted it back even more so. you started to feel like those girls from the movies; the ones where the girl becomes clingy after a one night stand. a cliché.

so what if he didn’t stay? it’s not like he actually felt anything for you. it was just a quick fuck. you probably were just another girl that he decided to throw a bone to. that’s what cocky men like him enjoy; just someone to string along and play with until he’s bored with them. you figured that time came sooner than you expected. well fuck him.

he hasn’t made eye contact with you once since you came in to work. you have the section right in front of the bar (thanks for nothing, hongjoong) so you have to just bear through it every time you pass him by. you prep your tables for service, wiping them down mindlessly.

you suppose there isn’t really a right way to go about this. sleeping with a coworker is a no-no, especially in restaurants. it gets messy (but it happens nonetheless). it’s not like you can go up to him and talk to him as if nothing happened. he didn’t exactly set you up for success either. he left without a word, and now you’re forced into the same space as him, clueless as to what to do. you decide to just ignore him unless absolutely necessary.

ryujin hops over next to you, a little too peppy for how you’re feeling.

“are you ready for a great service tonight?” ryujin says sarcastically, but with a grin.

“i want it to be over already,” you force out a dry chuckle, still half-assing the prep for your tables.

“the hell is wrong with you?” ryujin snorts.

“i’ll just—“ you start, but then realize you felt eyes burning into you. you look up the moment seonghwa’s gaze shifts, going back to wiping down the bar. “um, i’ll tell you later.”

“okay…” ryujin says, puzzled. she walks back to her section to prep.

your eyes are compelled to shift back up to seonghwa. at this point it just feels embarrassing to be wondering what he’s thinking, wondering if he felt what you felt sunday night. your thoughts are interrupted by hongjoong approaching you with a tall man, someone new.

“this is yunho,” hongjoong says, almost presenting the man to you. “he’s going to be trailing you tonight. just show him the ropes and i’ll grab him once dinner service slows down.”

yunho steps forward, extending a hand to you. “it’s so nice to meet you!” he gives you a warm smile as you shake his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you too, yunho,” you say, surprised by the immediate kindness. this feels a lot nicer than how you’ve been treated before.

tuesday nights are usually slow, even during dinner service. you had a decent amount of tables, but nothing you couldn’t handle. and fortunately the new guy caught on really quickly, grabbing the drinks for your tables, clearing empty plates when needed… working with him was making your shift a breeze.

“you’ve worked in restaurants before, haven’t you?” you ask yunho. you refill a water jug for your table with him in the back.

“yeah, i have,” he says meekly, rubbing the back of his neck. “you can tell?”

“definitely,” you nod with a smile. “what happened at the last place?”

“the management,” he chuckles, and you knew exactly what he meant without any explanation. “don’t tell anyone, but i quit without notice.”

you fake a gasp, pretending to clutch your pearls. you let out a light-hearted laugh. “don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

yunho gives a sweet smile to you, eye contact lingering a bit. you look down and realize the jug of water started overflowing and quickly move it away, letting out a humored yelp.

“oops,” he whispers, and you both giggle quietly to each other while wiping down the mess.

little did you know, seonghwa was entering the back to switch kegs for the beer on tap, and he walked in on your giggle-fest. he looks between the two of you momentarily as he continues to the back. you don’t even notice him until he passes. in a strange way, you can almost see annoyance radiating off of him. but maybe you’re making things up?

at the end of service, you finish closing all your tabs and count your tips at the bar with ryujin and wooyoung. yunho was in the back with hongjoong, debriefing the shift. you assumed seonghwa was in the back too, but you pushed away the curiosity.

“what a slow night,” ryujin sighs. she holds up her measly few bills and fakes a cry.

“how was training the new guy?” wooyoung inquires, packing his things.

“it was really good,” you can’t help but smile a little too big. your face drops when seonghwa walks back out to the bar, carrying a pack of beer to restock. you swear he steals a glance at you before kneeling down to refill the low-boys.

“speak of the devil!” ryujin grins, with all of you shifting your view to see yunho walking to the bar with an apron in hand.

“i think you guys might be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, fake-cockily. the three of you congratulate him, all while seonghwa minds to himself.

“when’s your next shift then?” you ask.

“hongjoong said i’ll train the rest of the week, and then my first day live is sunday,” he says, throwing his bag on his shoulder.

“you know what that means…” wooyoung voices mischievously.

“uhhh, what does that mean?” yunho utters, a curious expression on his face.

“sunday celebration!” ryujin throws her hands up in excitement.

“what the hell is sunday celebration?” yunho laughs.

“basically,” ryujin starts, “it’s where we all go out after our shift to a dive bar nearby and drink away our sorrows. but this time we can drink in ACTUAL celebration!”

“i could be down for that,” yunho says. he looks directly to you. “will i see you there?”

your lips part to answer, but your ears are punctured by glass shattering, and the sound of beer fizzing on the floor. your head snaps over to see seonghwa grumbling and picking up the pieces.

“party foul!” wooyoung says jokingly, but then was met with seonghwa’s glare. “kidding…”

you stand from the bar stool and gather your things, taking the cue to leave. “i’m gonna head out. yunho, see you tomorrow?”

“yup,” he says, holding back a smile. “i’ll see you then.”

you turn to walk to the door, feeling eyes like daggers piercing your back.

seonghwa is messing up a lot lately. which is very unlike him, being that he’s a perfectionist. you rang up an order of drinks for your tables, and yeah it was quite a few drinks, but you had never seen him mistake a gin martini for a vodka martini. you approach the drink pass with the misfired drink, setting it down.

“seonghwa,” you call to him, pointing at the drink. “i need a gin martini.”

“that IS a gin martini,” he says flatly, filling a beer from the tap. so sure of himself.

“no,” you insist. “this is vodka.”

he approaches the pass, setting down the beer with its appropriate ticket. he plucks a cocktail straw to do a straw taste of the drink. but with the sip, he wasn’t remotely shaken. he just tosses the liquid in the sink, remaking it without a word.

“you just gonna stand there and watch?” he says while stirring the beverage.

“are you gonna make it right this time?” you snap.

he places the drink on the pass, clearly pissed off. he slams the ticket next to the drink and glares at you, almost too close. you feel the huffs of his irritated breaths fanning your face, and for the first time since that night, you really look at each other. but all that was tangible in the air was anger.

“run your drink, princess.” he enunciates your nickname, packing a punch.

after finishing your closing duties, you’re ready to leave and put this shift behind you. you wave goodbye to your coworkers and start heading out the back door, it being held open by a loose brick. just as your feet hit the pavement of the alley, you hear your name being called behind you.

“wait!” you turn to yunho calling after you, and stopping in the doorway. “you leaving?”

“oh, uh, yeah,” you say, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “i got all my side work done so i’m heading home.”

“oh, okay,” he says shyly, obviously with a second thought on his mind.

you look at each other for a moment, but not out of awkwardness, just with a peculiar feeling of enticement.

“so um, how was training with wooyoung today?” you ask.

“oh yeah,” yunho laughs. “it was good. he’s really funny with his tables.”

“yeah, that guy’s definitely a yapper,” you both giggle to each other in amusement.

“sooo… you’re walking home?” he asks, leaning on the frame of the door.

“i usually walk home, i don’t live that far,” you explain.

“me too! maybe i can walk you—“ yunho gets cut off by seonghwa barging into the doorway.

“can i borrow her for a sec?” seonghwa says, barely making it a question.

yunho hesitantly nods, “yeah, um, i guess i’ll see you later?” he says to you, giving you a small wave.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow yunho,” you force a smile, with a pleading HELP ME written behind your eyes.

seonghwa leads you to the walk in, slamming the door behind him. he hovers over you and you can literally see the heat fuming off of him.

“what do you want, seonghwa?” you ask bluntly, trying your best not to sound intimidated.

“we need to talk,” he growls at you, stepping forward, forcing you to press up against the wall behind you.

“about what?” you quip with a begging tone. is this really the time to talk about it?

your eyes bore into each other, faces inches apart. his snarl nearly dissipates when he rips his eyes away from yours for a moment to glance at your lips. you blink up at him in temptation. you can feel the tension in the air, wondering if it was contempt or all encompassing desire. perhaps it was both.

“th–that shit you pulled earlier, don’t do it again,” seonghwa hesitantly lets out, nearly losing his composure.

“what, when you fucked up my drink order?” you ask.

“when you grilled me in the middle of service,” he defends.

“for fucking up, yeah,” you say, crossing your arms. “doesn’t feel nice to be scolded for your mistakes, does it?”

he glares at you for a beat, clearly unsure how to dig himself out of this hole. a hole that he dug. as if he snapped out of a trance, he steps back slightly. he clenches his jaw, and in a swift motion, withdraws from the walk-in. you’re left alone, still pressed up against the icy wall. a rolling cloud escapes your lips, making you realize you had been holding your breath.

it felt like sunday night didn’t come soon enough. this weekend was busier than usual, so all the running around on top of the rigidity of seonghwa was making you go mad. it’s difficult to avoid someone you hate when you have to retrieve drink orders from him all day. luckily, he just reserved to himself and you followed suit.

throwing your bag onto the bar, you slump into the bar seat at the end of the night.

“here,” hongjoong passes a shift beer to each of the servers at the bar, including you. “you guys need these after this weekend.”

you give a thank you while cracking it open, taking a big gulp. you let out a big sigh of relief.

“you’re right, hongjoong,” you say blissfully. “i did need this.”

ryujin snickers next to you, nudging your shoulder. “there will be plenty more at sunday celebration, don’t you worry.”

“speaking of,” san says, grabbing the shoulders of yunho. “congrats on your first live shift, yunho!”

“yeah, how was it?” you ask. you can’t help but smile at the beaming man.

“it went…” yunho starts, pausing for effect. “swimmingly.”

“sounds like a cause for celebration!” ryujin sing-songs, raising her beer in salute.

you all raise your glasses, short one person of course: seonghwa, who was mopping down the bar floor. after a hefty drink, wooyoung crushes his can first and tosses it in the trash.

“let’s start celebrating, sannie,” wooyoung says, throwing his arm over san’s shoulder. (seriously, what the hell is going on there?)

san and wooyoung book it out the door and ryujin follows soon after, finishing her beer and beckoning you to join.

“almost done, you go ahead!” you encourage, packing up your things hap-hazardly with one hand and chugging your beer with the other.

“shit, you guys drink fast,” yunho says, swishing his beer around to hear how much he has left. with a laugh he says, “wish i could just take this to go.”

“i won’t tell,” you whisper to him, grabbing him to join you. “walk with me?”

“okay,” yunho smiles, almost looking like he had stars in his eyes.

you two waltz out the door, leaving seonghwa at the bar cleaning alone. and with your eyes finally averted away, he can finally have no shame in watching you intently out the window. he is so fucked.

“here’s to yunho!” mingi hosts the cheers, with everyone raising their glasses, clinking them together and collectively taking a drink.

“guys,” yunho says with his face still contorted from the liquor. “thank you so much. you’ve all been so welcoming!”

“of course, you’re part of the fam now!” san smiles, wrapping his arm around the man’s shoulders.

everyone takes their respective seats and mingle amongst each other, all while taking more shots and drinking more beer. you, of course, were sat with ryujin and wooyoung talking about the latest work drama.

“have you guys noticed something different about seonghwa lately?” wooyoung asks. “like when he broke that beer the other night? i swear, the whole year i’ve worked here i’ve never seen him break a thing.”

“dude, yes,” ryujin says, leaning in. “he fucked up a couple of my drink orders today. so weird.”

“he’s definitely been in a bad mood lately,” you mumble, holding back from telling your secret.

“yeah, more than usual,” ryujin rolls her eyes. “he probably just needs to get laid.”

you choke back a bit on your drink, taken off guard by the comment. you realize the problem is not that he needs to get laid, but that he did get laid. and now he’s being tortured by seeing the poor girl at work every day. why did he have to sleep with you when you know he feels nothing but disdain for you? are you just a toy to him? you begin to feel dizzy, partly from the alcohol, but also from the thoughts spinning in your head.

“you okay?” wooyoung asks you, handing you a water. you nod and take the drink from him, but his eyes are quickly diverted to the bar. “oh shit, seonghwa is here.”

“what?” ryujin tries her best to look subtly. “do you think our shit-talking manifested him?”

“i don’t know,” you huff, trying to figure out a way to avoid him. “but i’m gonna go sit on the patio.”

“there’s a patio?” yunho chimes in, hearing the last bit. “can i join?”

you smile and nod, leading him back. this will be a good distraction.

“so…” you start, leaning against the wooden patio covering. “how do you like it here? at the restaurant, i mean.”

“it’s definitely different,” yunho laughs. he leans on the covering next to you. “everyone is super nice, the food is good… and it’s nice to work for a local business. the management seems to really care about the employees.”

“definitely, hongjoong is great manager.” you nod to him.

“it’s actually crazy,” yunho starts. “i’ve never seen so many attractive people all working in one place before.”

“what, like ryujin? or wooyoung? or san?” you giggle, realizing he was right. you do have a LOT of hot coworkers.

“well, sure,” yunho says shyly. “but no, i meant you.”

“oh,” you say, caught off guard. you suddenly feel a lot more drunk. you look up at him momentarily, him leaning closer to you.

if someone else saw this body language from an outside perspective, they’d think that he looks like he wants to kiss you. and so what if he did? would it be the worst thing in the world to entertain this, even after your mess with seonghwa?

yunho leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, quick but sweet. when he pulls away, you’re left looking at him with an unreadable expression, but in your mind, you were reeling.

there was something… missing. and it irritated the fuck out of you. yunho did give you butterflies, but you wonder if it’s just because it feels nice to have attention on you. especially from someone that’s actually kind and seems like he actually wants to get to know you. but in your crazy toxic head, you realize what was missing. passion.

“i-i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have done that,” yunho says, touching his fingertips on his lips.

“no, no,” you say, grabbing his arm. “it’s okay.”

before yunho can get out a word, the back door shuts with seonghwa walking out, witnessing the scene. you can’t resist stepping back slightly from yunho, as if it’s not too late to be caught. he looks between you and seonghwa, adding two and two together just from the tension alone.

“i think i’m gonna head back inside,” yunho says, rubbing the back of his neck. “sorry, again.”

“yunho, wait,” you call after him, but he already shuts the door behind him.

“let him leave,” seonghwa commands, leaning against the wall.

“what are you even doing here, seonghwa?” you ask, already putting your guard up.

“the fuck are you doing with the new guy?” he says, placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a match. of course he’s one of those pretentious dudes that uses a fucking match to light a cig.

“since when do you smoke?” you say, desperately trying to change the subject.

“i don’t,” he says casually, blowing a cloud into the air. “just been stressed lately.”

“i can tell,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “it’s like you forgot how to bartend.”

“it’s not just work,” he says, brushing off the insult you threw at him. “it’s also you.”

“what about me?” you basically refuse, shaking your head. “i’ve been doing exactly what you want me to do. i don’t talk to you, i don’t look at you. i pretty much avoid you at all costs. you’re off the hook, seonghwa. you don’t have to worry about me bothering you.”

“who says that’s what i wanted?” seonghwa says, finally looking directly to you.

“you didn’t have to say it,” you spit at him, forcing him silent.

the air feels heavy. seonghwa struggles to find words for what he wanted to say. he looks down again, ashing his half-smoked cigarette. the back door opens to wooyoung and san following after him, both opting to sit in the patio chairs in the corner. they continue their conversation, and seonghwa looks to you.

“we should talk somewhere more private,” he says, motioning to your coworkers. he’s already grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“why, so you can keep being an asshole to me without an audience?” you say.

“because i want to finish what we started,” he mumbles, walking out of the patio and to the back parking lot.

you try your best to resist, but curiosity overcame you as you follow.

after a short but tense drive, you arrive at what seems to be seonghwa’s apartment. he shuts the engine off and jumps out of his car. you slowly try to register what the hell is happening, unbuckling and hopping out. seonghwa doesn’t look back you, he just continues walking, knowing you’re trailing after him. he unlocks his front door, letting both of you in. he closes the door behind you, watching you examine your surroundings.

“this is exactly how i imagined your place,” you say, almost to yourself.

“you’ve been imagining my apartment?” he smirks.

“yeah,” you scoff. “it’s just as cold and rigid as you.”

“thanks,” he mutters sarcastically.

“so now what?” you say expectantly. “you bring me back here yell at me? make me cry?”

“there’s only one scenario i want of you crying,” he says, stepping closer to where he’s leaning over you. you suddenly feel stone-cold sober.

“and what’s that?” you say, tongue in your cheek, pretending not to know exactly what’s about to happen. and pretending you don’t want it so bad.

seonghwa grabs your cheek, beckoning your face closer to his. his eyes bore into yours, before landing down to your lips. not holding back anymore, he presses his lips onto yours with purpose. your lips meld into his, placing your hands on his chest. your kiss deepens in fervor, as if the hunger completely took over both of you. soon enough, you’re moving together towards his bedroom, clothes and inhibitions shedding along the way.

you fall back onto the bed with seonghwa standing over you. he takes off his belt while looking down at you with a look that can only be described as burning desire. once he discards his pants, he slowly runs his fingers across your panty-clad core. you’re embarrassed by how fucking wet you are already, slightly closing your legs around him.

“no no, princess,” he smirks down at you, licking his lips. “keep them open for me.”

you do as your told, letting him push your underwear to the side and feeling the wetness between your folds. he gathers some of your slick and brings his fingers to his mouth, savoring it.

“fuck,” he tilts his head up as he groans, unintentionally bucking his hips against the edge of the bed. “you taste so fucking good.”

with one hand gripping your thigh, the other hand dips back to your heat to slowly insert his middle finger in you. he lets you adjust momentarily before sliding in his ring finger, curling them both. he thrusts in and out, all while watching you squirm under his touch. he just watches in awe, mouth hanging open as he fixates on your pussy enveloping his digits, coating them with your essence. he releases the hand on your thigh to palm himself at the sight. he twitches in his underwear, precum soaking through at the tip.

as if he couldn’t take it anymore, he withdraws his fingers from inside you and rips your underwear, completely tearing the fabric to have more access to you. he tugs his bottoms down to release his aching cockhead, the tip leaking in a long drip onto you. he guides his member down the length of your core to gather your juices and stimulating your clit all the while.

with an elongated hiss, he enters you slowly. you’re taking every inch of him, pulsating around him. you moan with him as he starts rolling his hips into you. you can feel his head hitting every inch of your walls, the pressure making you moan in sweet agony. your sounds ring in his ears, savoring the whimpers you let out just for him. this quickens his pace, still driving into you with cadence.

he’s literally fucking you into the mattress, splitting you open with vigor. you find it impossible to keep from tightening around him in pleasure, and he loses a bit of his rhythm. he pulls out of you completely.

“you’re gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that,” he says between exasperated breaths. he holds his length above you, slapping it onto your core. he bites his lip to hold back a groan before grabbing your waist to switch positions.

he sits up on the bed and places you on top of him. he holds your waist as he guides you down onto his cock. he examines every inch of your face, reveling at the way it contorts at the feeling of him entering you. once you adjust to him again, you start moving. you ride him, throwing your head back. seonghwa takes the opportunity to kiss and bite at the expanse of your neck. he moans as he begins thrusting upwards in tandem with you. he’s hitting all the right spots, and your bodies move together like a dance.

the moans you let out are uncontrollable, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. it feels like no one’s ever made you feel this way, feel this good. and maybe it’s true; maybe no one has ever awakened this primal, animalistic desire within you. it feels addictive, and you could not get enough. you pull him closer, yearning to feel every inch of his glistening body against yours, desperate for your forms to meld together in an all-encompassing embrace.

he crashes his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, a surge of passion pouring through and intensifying with every passing second. he reaches his hand down to toy with your clit, forcing you off his lips to let out a wanton moan. you core clenches around his length and a wave of stimulation transcends your body.

“cum with me, baby,” seonghwa lets out softly, continuing to thrust into you and toying with your clit.

you throw your head back in ecstasy, all while seonghwa’s eyes devour every inch of you, mesmerized by the sounds of your moans, the sweat trickling down your neck. each movement and touch sends shivers down his spine, solidifying his obsession with you. he wishes with every fiber of his being he could immortalize this sight in his mind forever. he is absolutely captivated by you.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs before resting his hand just below the side of your face.

his jaw goes slack when your core clenches erratically around him, drinking up this view as you completely come undone on his cock. he continues to piston into you until he follows immediately after, no longer holding back his moans of euphoria.

as your hips both begin to slow to a stop, seonghwa pulls you off of him, eyes still full of unrelenting lust.

“get on top of me,” he says, pulling you to straddle his face. “i want to taste myself in you.”

his hands grip your thighs as he guides your folds to his eager mouth. as soon as your core meets his tongue, a moan escapes his lips. his seed is still spilling out of you, and he licks up every drop with determination. your hips are still above him, hesitant to put your full weight on him.

“i need you sit on my face,” he says between licks. “i want you to fucking suffocate me.”

his hands on your thighs urge you down, letting you become fully seated on his mouth. he devours you, exploring every inch of you. you rock your hips against his tongue, each motion intensifying your pleasure. his hands encourage you to move faster, to take what you want from him. he separates from your core briefly to groan.

“baby, fuck my tongue,” he commands, attaching back onto you, granting you full access to his mouth.

you let his tongue slide into you and thrust onto it, all while his nose bumps at your clit. you feel the tension building in your stomach once again. the overstimulation sends you spiraling, hips continuing to grind onto his hungry tongue. you see his eyebrows knitting together in bliss, the vibrations of his insistent moans sending a pang throughout your body.

“seonghwa, p-please,” you beg, as if you weren’t the one on top of him, fucking his mouth. his dominance overtook you in every way, no matter what position. “i’m going to cum.”

he nods as if he’s saying, ‘yes, please cum on my face, please let me feel you,’ but is stifled by the grinding of your hips. he flattens his tongue so you can thrust your folds on him, and he’s smirking with lust behind his eyes. you let out a cry in pure bliss, your core contracting and spilling your essence onto his lips. he swallows every drop before latching his mouth back onto your clit, prolonging your orgasm. your movements slow down, and you let out a satisfied moan.

you fall off of him, positioning to rest your head on his chest. the waves of pleasure start to subside, and the only thing that can be heard in the silent air was the synchronization of your heartbeats. then reality hits you.

“seonghwa,” you say quietly. “what are we doing? why are we doing this?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, bringing his hand up to run his fingers through your hair. he struggles to find the right words. “i just… i don’t think i want this to stop.”

you lift your head up, almost thinking it’s a joke. but when you look into his eyes, you can tell he’s being genuine.

“but… but you hate me,” you say.

“i could never hate you,” he urges. he places his hand on your cheek, stroking softly.

you want so badly to believe him, to trust the softness in his eyes. but a voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is temporary, this isn’t real for him, and urges you to not fall for this trap. your mind plays over the past few weeks of turmoil between you. you recall every harsh word, every cold stare, and wonder if this moment of tenderness can truly outweigh all of that pain. is it worth risking your heart again?

“then i need you to explain yourself,” you say, pushing his hand away. “tell me why you’ve been like this with me.”

he sits up, taking a deep breath. “i’ve been so fucking stupid,” he shakes his head. “i think all these years of working at a restaurant kind of roughed me up. i think i built these walls to try and prove myself in the industry, to prove something to myself. and it made me become someone i don’t even like.”

he meets your gaze, seeing your anticipation for him to continue.

“and then i met you, and i still had these walls. i walked all over you and made you feel like shit. and what’s so fucked up about it is that despite that, i actually started to like you,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “i was scared. i’m still scared.”

you never expected him to be this vulnerable with you, let alone confess his feelings for you. you sit up and kiss him softly, intimately.

in that moment, the barriers between you begin to crumble. it’s not going to be easy, but for the first time, you find yourself on the same page.

“i don’t know what comes next,” you say softly. “but we can be scared together.”

a/n: guys i am so proud of this one! i hope i successfully portrayed the intensity between them. shit got my heart racing personally. again, im new to writing fics so plz leave feedback and reblog to support me! thank u sooooo much ♡

edit: sadly there will be no part 3, but i will be releasing something new within the next week or so, so stay tuned 🫶🏻

✰taglist✰ @trinityhasjams @mxnsxngie @sooberryworld @mingtinysworld @spenceatiny18

[nvuy]

hijacked — boothill

summary. a mission to retrieve some files from a banquet hall goes wayward south when a galaxy ranger shows up to ruin your night—and score some bonus kisses while he’s at it.

notes. save me space cowboy… save me… remembered his entire body is robotic except his head. the possibilities to hack it and take over……….. ngh

HEY YOU!! there’s a sequel now.

warnings. little bit of threatening, mind control/hacking/hijacking? you take over his body for like a few minutes? is that a warning?

“Hey, pretty thing.”

Target locked. Your scanners had already tracked him before you could even realise he was speaking to you.

You swiftly hid away the USB drive in your purse.

Did he know?

It seemed his own eye enhancements—although a lot less subtle than yours—were scanning you down as well. How transactional. You’d hoped the walls you’d put up were enough to keep whatever technology he had at bay. Or at least, not trigger any alarms.

“You looked lonely. Was g’nna buy you a drink. Help you loosen up a bit.” He swished his own drink in your face for good measure. The coupe glass in his hands looked odd. He didn’t seem like a cocktail man. Not at all.

He looked like a whiskey man. Hard whiskey. With ice. In a tumbler with ribbed glass. You could picture it.

He just looked so out of place at the banquet.

He wasn’t even following the dress code. He was wearing boots, and a pair of old pants with zips along the calves. A hat with a white feather woven into the fabric rested on a head of long white hair with splashes of black around his face.

“No thanks,” you said with a wave. You tried to discreetly scan down his body, searching for any sort of hint of how you could get into his system.

His pants and what little material of his jacket hid most of the metal of his body. Internally, you cursed at it. He had no clear openings in his neck or arms. His head seemed entirely organic.

No weak spots.

“N’aww. Shame.”

The front door felt a lot further away now. Even more so, knowing he was most definitely here for you. He hadn’t even introduced himself yet. You had a feeling he knew he didn’t need to.

“Was g’nna ask ya to dance.”

You laughed awkwardly. “I can’t dance in these shoes.”

“Take ‘em off. Who cares?” he bantered playfully. “I’ll watch out for ‘em if they’re expensive.”

“They’re priceless,” you quipped back. “All of me is.”

“Good. You know your worth.”

You were actually worth about fifteen million, as according to your wanted status by the IPC. You weren’t sure if this man was a part of them, though members of the IPC were always very adamant on letting you know that, yes, they did work at the IPC. It was usually the first thing that came out of their mouths.

Questioning if they actually worked at the IPC opened another entire can of worms.

You didn’t feel the need to ask. Not in that moment, at least.

“And what’s yours?” you asked him with a bat of your lashes.

He winked. “Guess.”

You smiled and scanned him down again. “Depends. I’d have to see what you’re made of.”

“Naughty.” He leaned back against the wall with you. “You sure you don’t want that drink? It’s a cosmopolitan.”

Very sure. You were convinced that he’d just taken the drink from one of the server’s trays. You couldn’t imagine he’d walked up to the bar and requested it for himself.

“You strike me as a whiskey man,” you eased. It came past your lips like butter.

He flashed his teeth in warning.

Then, he sipped his drink. “You’re good. Anything else you can read with your fancy eyes?”

You stopped short.

He did know. It wasn’t a surprise, not at all. He wasn’t entirely human. He must have been equipped with similar technology to realise just how advanced yours was.

You realised then with a shaky breath that you had the same vision enhancements as he did. An even match, unable to read through to each other.

He must have had so much more, too. You only had so many enhancements, whereas he was made almost entirely of metal. The thought of amount of different codings and technology he had crammed into every wire of his body gave you a headache.

Bad idea. You shouldn’t have provoked him. You needed to retreat. You needed to get home, preferably safely, with the USB stored nice and snug in your purse.

You tried not to let your nervousness show, but by the way he was staring at you, you knew he could read your face.

“That’s it, then. You’ve figured out my party trick.” You got up from the wall. “Thank you for the offer. The drink, I mean.” You cleared your throat. “I’ll be going now.”

“I’m not scaring you off, am I?” He got up off the wall too.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Not at all.” When you turned to face him, he was smiling so wide his eyes had crinkled. “Have a good night.”

“At least let me walk you out,” he insisted. He also offered to hold your purse, to which you quickly declined. That only made him smile impossibly wider. “What sort of man am I to not see a pretty thing like you get home safe?”

You headed towards the hallway, knowing he was right behind you.

The banquet was still in full swing, barely even close to ending. Most of the cast were drunk or getting there. Heels had been discarded, some missing their pair, skewed all over the dancefloor like glitter.

The golden chandelier in the main room was yet to be pulled from the ceiling. You were surprised nobody had tried to swing from it yet.

You dodged chattering groups and couples in the hallway—one of them had decided to put on a full display while right next to an unoccupied bedroom, right there in the centre of the hall.

Another one was gagging dangerously close to your feet.

You shouldered past them. “Stop following me, Ranger.”

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.” You felt his hair brush over your shoulder.

You knew he had a weapon. He wouldn’t have come to threaten you without one.

Before you could reach the door handle, he grabbed your wrist, pulled you backwards, and into the unoccupied guest room that the couple hadn’t bothered to take.

He shut the door with a loud slam, though not before hearing someone whistle out in the corridor.

Your head snapped towards him. He was leaning on the door, his arms crossed, looking almost unbothered.

“We can play this game all day, pumpkin. I got time.” He waved you off with a grin. “Give me the files. I’m askin’ nicely. I won’t force ya to hand ‘em over. Yet.”

You gritted your teeth.

You were so fucking close. So close to getting out of here, and then he had to come—this walking hunk of metal and scrap—and ruin everything.

Nothing ever went your fucking way anyway. You shouldn’t have been shocked something like this would happen.

You held your purse tightly in your hands. All of this was pointless. The dress, the heels, the hair, the nails, the makeup. All of it.

You just hoped by some miracle that he hadn’t found your locator beacon yet. You’d hidden it well; within the bushes outside away from anyone’s line of sight, but he wasn’t just anyone. He could see things a lot of people couldn’t.

“C’mon. You know you wanna…” He smiled sweetly for good measure. It looked like a threat. When he leaned to the side, the golden barrel of a gun flashed beneath his belt.

You could try to make a backup. Right then. You had what you needed in your watch. He’d probably stop you before it was complete.

Or…

Or what? What else could you do?

Your locator beacon wasn’t responding, though it hadn’t been broken. Most likely deactivated temporarily. You bounced on your heels.

You then formed the worst idea of your life.

With shaky hands, you walked towards him slowly. You reached into your purse, feeling for the cold plastic of the black USB he wanted to get his grubby hands on.

“Knew you’d come ‘round.” He held out his hand expectantly.

You fished the USB from your bag.

Then, before you could place it into his palm, you tripped and almost broke your nose on his torso. Your hands splayed desperately onto his chest to keep your face from shattering on impact.

He was quick to grab your arms to steady you with a surprised grunt.

There was a whirring sound, and then the sound of something mechanical and wrong. Foreign. Not from his body, but from yours.

The spaces beneath his joints lit up abright yellow for a moment before his hands loosened from your arms.

You grinned. Gotcha.

When you pulled back, he witnessed you pull a strange light from beneath his skin before you held it along your fingers.

When he blinked, you had an entire copy of his body in the palm of your hand. A hologram formed of his entire artificial makeup. Every crevice of his body, all of the metal that weaved to make him who he was.

All of it in your hand, with puppet strings attached.

It was missing just his head.

He froze. And then, he rushed out a simple, “what did you do?”

You tapped on his holographic arm on the screen. “Hijacked.”

When you moved it, his arm twitched to life.

Against his will, he pulled the gun from his holster and dropped it to the floor. It clattered uselessly onto the carpet.

He could only simply stare as his body moved against his will. There was no way to even twitch a finger with all his might.

It was like you had shut down all of his systems and replaced them with your own.

He should’ve seen this coming.

You whistled as you studied the model of him in your hands. When you tapped onto his neck, it zoomed in to show every single wire and thread of metal, as well as an accompanying string of coding.

“I don’t need any special enhancements to read you. What sort of cyborg comes in alone to try and stop me? You know who I am, don’t you?”

He wasn’t able to move his body. He said not a word.

“Somebody clearly doesn’t understand their body.” You patted his chest. His fans had kicked in. You could hear them whirring.

He was glaring at you.

“Did the IPC send you?”

After a moment, he scoffed. “Hardly. I don’t work for those… people.” It seemed like he wanted to say something else, but decided against it.

“Huh.” You didn’t think he was lying. “So… you’re not concerned about my bounty?”

“You said yourself you were priceless,” he countered easily. Despite his position, he was still grinning. “And besides, I’m sure my bounty is heaps bigger than yours.”

You almost snapped. He’d come to gloat, even at a disadvantage.

“You look better with your mouth shut,” you spat. You shoved the lining of code in his face for him to see, making the holographic blue screen as large as you possibly could. “I could make you tear yourself apart. I could make you forget who you are. I could alter whatever sort of brain you have in there. Watch yourself.”

Still glaring, but this time his lips sealed almost instantly.

You made him stand ram rod straight as you turned around, now eyeing a golden vanity next to the bed. The bedroom was surprisingly clean, save for a few empty glasses strewn about. No stains, no messes.

You sat down in the chair and angled the mirror so you could keep your eye on him.

You breathed out, trying not to stare at him for too long. You could feel your irritation growing, and it was showing on your face. If you stared at him for any longer, you feared you’d pull his limbs off with your own bare hands.

You fished out the powder from your purse and leaned closer to the mirror.

Maybe if you looked better, you’d feel better.

“You’re seriously dollin’ yourself up right now?” he asked, briskly annoyed.

You dabbed the sponge beneath your eyes. “Can’t let anyone think I let you put your hands on me. I have standards.”

He had nice hair. You weren’t sure if it was real, though. You weren’t sure if he could even grow hair. He was almost entirely artificial, save for his head.

He didn’t seem to age—his face, at least. You weren’t sure how old he was supposed to be, but his organic skin still looked fresh, as if left untouched and well taken care of.

Maybe it’s because that was all he had left of him.

You snapped the powder shut.

The ranger sneered. “Yeah, yeah. I’d beat you in a fight anyway.”

“‘Course you would,” you answered easily. You pulled a stick of gloss from your bag. You swiped the lipgloss over your lips, fixing it with the tip of your nail. “That’s not what I’m talking about, though.”

You stood from the chair, placing the gloss back in your purse.

“You’d never hit me, would you?”

His face almost lit up with fury.

It was absolutely hilarious.

“You’re so lucky I can't move,” he threatened. “You wouldn’t recognise your pretty face in the mirror.”

“Such a gentleman.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press your lips to his cheek. You hoped the sticky gloss bothered him, knowing he would be unable to wipe it off of him. You hoped it stained his milky skin a nice glittery bubblegum pink.

You hoped the scent of your perfume lingered on his skin, and he never forgot your name.

“Of course, gorgeous.” That same mocking tone. “Anything for you.”

You held the USB up to his lips. “Open.”

Begrudgingly, he did so.

You slipped the stick past his lips until his teeth caught onto the plastic and held it still.

“You can have it. I already got what I needed anyway.”

You kissed his other cheek for good measure, lingering for a moment before you pulled away. Two pink glittering stains on his face now; perfectly symmetrical.

“I’ll be thinking of you.” And that you would. You winked at him. “Bye, Boothill.”

Then, with sudden grid lines of yellow forming over your figure, the locator beacon buzzed to life, and you disappeared.

In the blink of an eye, you were outside in the cold night air. There were few people out in the front garden of the building, and none had spotted you.

You picked up the gadget and quickly left. A copy of his body and the USB were now a collection in your own personal belongings.

As soon as you vanished, Boothill regained control of his limbs and fell to the floor, trembling with the after effects of your invasion. His teeth were gritted as he pulled himself up onto the guest bed.

He spat the USB out before he could bite down and damage it.

He held it between his thumb and index finger.

There was a smear of your lipgloss on the side of the USB stick.

Mission accomplished, he supposed.

He also had two matching lipgloss stains on his skin as a trophy. He could see how stupid he looked in the vanity mirror.

He snickered with clenched, shaking fists.

You smelled like strawberry.

[totothewolff]

Daddy's Little Pet

+18 | one shot | Toto x reader | smut, daddy kink, size kink, power play.

Summary: You had come to Brackley expecting a generic interview, not a deep dive into Toto's lovemaking life. Author's note: As a reply to the request made by @ xoxo_lily at The Wolff Pack Discord Server.

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist

The second you entered the empty boardroom where Toto was waiting for you, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Your heart pounded hard as you gazed at the well-dressed boss. Toto's tall, big, powerful muscled silhouette claimed your eyes immediately. He looked even more massive in person.

A hiss of nervousness curled in your stomach as you approached the table while grabbing the seat next to him.

When he slid his chair to face you, just centimeters apart from you, you felt tiny. Even though both of you were sat down he towered over you with a notorious difference.

Oh, if you could bury your head in that broad and muscular chest in front of you.

Since Toto's aura of power mesmerized you, and your curiosity and attraction for him piqued, you decided to do an article on him for the upcoming issue of GearGrl.

Armed with a script and a microphone, you made your way to his private boardroom, where he takes video calls and deals with sponsors, press, and guests.

The smell of polished oak and leather filled the air, creating an alluring scent that is as arousing for you as the man himself.

His piercing eyes sized you up the second the door swung open and you stepped in.

You extended your hand at him, trying to hide the trembling nerves, rocking a bit in your chair. "Mr. Wolff, my name's Y/N. I'm a journalist from GearGrl magazine, and I'd love to chat with you for a feature article," you smiled, hoping this would ease your tension but went all the way around, the minute Toto placed his big warm hand on yours your mind went wild.

Toto's hand is double size yours. Fuck! He only added a little pressure on the handshake and you are already wetting yourself.

What would be like to have his entire body weight crushing you down against the sheets?

Toto's gaze shifted from your body towards your hand, squeezing it a bit. "Nice to meet you, little one. I don't have much time today. But, if you have specific questions about our team strategy or sponsorships, I'll be glad to answer," he said, his voice deep and commanding.

You swallowed hard and decided to push your luck. You tilted your chin upwards, meeting his gaze with a newfound boldness, he stared down at you due to the height difference, and a little smirk formed on his lips before you dared.

"Actually, I was hoping to pepper you with some questions about your life beyond the track. Your passions, your hobbies, that sort of thing."

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes before they narrowed on you. "I don't see how that is relevant to the teams' performance or our supporters," he said, his words snipped.

"Well, I believe that a man as influential as yourself, Toto, has a life worth exploring. Your devoted fans crave a glimpse into your world, and this interview would offer them just that."

The corner of his mouth twitched in a rueful half-smile as if you had struck a nerve. "Smart move, little one."

Then you pushed again, "Also you could inspire young enthusiasts by offering them a picture of a well-rounded individual."

"My stories might not paint the perfect picture.

I have made mistakes and faced challenges along the way," he warned you.

"No one is perfect, Toto, and that's what makes humans interesting." you leaned forward slightly, your curiosity in full bloom. Toto shifted his position and relaxed his body, sensing you getting closer. His big muscular tights spread a bit, and he rested his big hands on them.

"What kind of challenges did you face, if I may ask, Toto?" you dare.

A heavy sigh, "When I first took over as the TP at Williams, many doubted my capabilities. They saw me as nothing but a reckless, inexperienced playboy. But the team rallying behind me and our eventual success at the track fueled my persistence," Toto explained, his gaze lost in your lips. "I've fought battles at work and in my personal life, learning valuable lessons along the way."

Intrigued by his reveal, you asked, "Can you tell me about those battles in your personal life?"

"I don't know if my personal trials will make a good story. Still, there's one I could mention. When my monogamist first marriage began to crumble, my focus on building my career inadvertently added fuel to that fire. I found myself alone and devastated, with my kids miles away in a boarding school," Toto said, his voice heavy with emotion.

Immersed in his story, you wanted to know more. "Did finding love again play a role in your healing process and later success?"

He took a long moment before meeting your eyes again, the intensity of his stare was crazy. "Yes, love found me just when I needed it the most. I met a woman named Susie, who was warm, inviting, and able to understand my urges." The emphasis and deep voice Toto made saying those words, provoked you to quiver. "The ones my previous partners never could." He chuckled softly. "I'm not sure if it was fate or sheer luck."

"Your urges?" your voice echoed throughout the empty room, drowned only by the sound of your accelerated heartbeats.

"I have a constant hunger not only for winning, I..." his eyes are already lifting your skirt.

"What do you crave for?" your voice trembled, enjoying the forthcoming invitation.

"I can show you" his voice was deep and one of his long big fingers was already playing with the hem of your skirt.

Then you dare to intertwine your hand with Toto's as a "yes, please show me", you wanted so badly to lick those big long fingers of his and feel them inside your tiny pussy fingering you relentlessly. His Rolex watch sparkled under the lights and the ring on his right hand shined.

The conversation took an unexpectedly intimate turn. You couldn't explain it, but there was something about the way Toto spoke that tugged at your deepest desires.

Perhaps it was the boldness of the thing he just revealed, that Susie allowed him to have his cravings.

Whatever it was, you couldn't deny your body's response to his words. Every pulse of your heart echoed in your pussy, leaving you flushed and yearning.

You had come to Brackley expecting a generic interview, not a deep dive into Toto's lovemaking life.

He guided you by the hand back to his office and onto the bulky trendy sofa. He pushed you down on it with ease, as if you were paper-thin.

"I won't be an easy lover to forget. But I don't do commitment or romance, only with Susie" he said.

You nodded in understanding, giving him what could only be described as a sultry smile. You wanted him to know you understood well what both of you were up for.

"My little pet" he growled before reaching for you. Your whole body trembled with anticipation as he touched your face gently, swiping his thumb across your lips. Toto was on his feet, making you feel even more small.

You parted your lips slightly, licking his thumb finger, the throbbing in your pussy escalating to an unbearable level.

Toto took this as his cue and pulled you closer, shifting your position with a firm and quick grip, leaving you now knees on the sofa and ass pinned against him.

Lifting your skirt, he rubbed himself against your tiny panties. Oh, the way he manhandles you!

You could feel his hardness pressed against your ass, his arousal evident. He lowered his lips to your ear, whispering huskily, "So you wanted a peek into the raw and real Toto Wolff? I warn you I will not hold back, my little pet." His gaze held yours with the confidence of a predator filling its hunger, and you licked your lips, letting him know you were ready for him.

Toto snaked his hand around, tangling his fingers through your hair, roughly tugging your head back to expose the hollow of your throat.

Your pulse hammered wildly under his harsh caresses as he trailed his lips from your jawline to that sensitive dip.

"Fuck," you gasped, unable to contain the reaction to his touch, knowing this was reckless, zero professional, and wrong but too far gone to care.

Despite his warning, you wanted Toto in a way that defied all logic and you were eager to prove you could handle whatever he gave you.

You could feel his erection trapped against the zipper of his pants. Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, popping the fastener of his trousers. In one swift motion, you pushed his pants and boxers down.

His cock sprung free, thick and long, jutting out from a pair of toned, muscular thighs. The sight of him left you breathless and overwhelmed with lust.

"Fuck, you are going to destroy my pussy with that cock!" you whispered.

He smiled smugly, obviously pleased with your reaction.

You couldn't help but stare as he stood there, completely naked and unabashed. He looked like a Greek god, powerful, perfectly sculpted, and unapologetically male.

"I think I deserve a bit of a peak into your personal side too," Toto murmured, his eyes alight with playfulness. His words caught you off guard, and you raised your eyebrows playfully.

"Remember when I thought I was here for work?" you said and chucked.

"Come suck me, pet" he gestured to you, and you immediately turned around, your ass now on the couch, sitting right in front of him, his dick at your face level due to your height difference.

You started gripping the solid length of Toto's aroused cock, you curved your fingers around him, stroking him gently, eager to satisfy his desperation.

Toto sucked a breath between his teeth, his fingers tightening in your hair as you pumped your hand along his length. Your hand looked tiny around his fat cock. Getting already nervous about how would you fit that thing inside your mouth.

Toto's hand gripped the base of his cock, guiding it towards your lips. "Open wide," he commanded, his voice thick with desire. Hunger burned in his gaze, and you could practically see the animal instincts of the man taking over. "Suck my cock," he demanded you, the forcefulness of his words sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You parted your lips as wide as possible, allowing him to slide his length into your mouth. You gagged slightly as he pushed deeper, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

Toto let out a low groan of satisfaction, his hips thrusting forward as he began to fuck your mouth.

You could feel his cock slid deeper, stretching you past the point of comfort. But you weren't complaining.

His salty taste filled your mouth, making you moan your approval. Toto slid his hands into your hair, gripping it tightly as he fucked your mouth in earnest.

You gagged again, but this time you didn't try to pull away. Instead, you relaxed your throat, taking him deeper into your mouth. You could feel him swell even further, and you slid your tongue along his shaft, creatively slurping at him.

Your eyes were so watery by now, but you didn't dare stop. You'd never seen a man look so entranced as Toto did at this moment, his eyes hooded and head rolled back in the pleasure of your mouth on him.

"Fuck, you take me so good, pet" he grunted, hips thrusting as his length slid in and out of your hot, wet mouth. "Keep going, my little pet, just like that."

You continued to pleasure him in this way until he suddenly pulled away with a hiss. Pre-cum glistened on your lips as you blinked up at him, seeking his approval, he looked so proud of you.

You looked like a total mess, all red on the cheeks, saliva all over your chin, watery eyes, and messy hair.

"Now to the couch, pet" he whispered darkly as he bent, lifting you with ease and tossing you onto the sofa.

You bounced once and landed right in the center.

The air left your lungs as he climbed on top of you, towering over you in all his glory, pushing your body against the fabric, your stomach and hips feeling the pain of Toto's body prisoning you.

His strong arms cupped your head, tilting your face towards his. Toto leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss. You gasped as his tongue delved between your lips, tilting your head to receive it, your fingers dragging up the muscles in his arms, tracing his veins, he tasted like espresso and the faint scent of stale mint, a carnal, masculine flavor that left you panting and breathless.

Your kiss deepened as he moved away, nibbling at your lips and the sensitive skin beneath your ear, causing you to whimper, with delight.

His hands were everywhere, exploring your curves and leaving behind a burning trail of where his mouth would follow.

"Toto, please," you begged, desperately craving to feel him inside you. Your mind was full of desire, and all you could concentrate on was the hard friction his erect cock set off through your body.

No response at the call of his name, so you dared.

"Daddy, please," you moaned, squirming beneath him. Immediately his hands pinned yours to the sofa. You arched into his touch, savoring the way he finally was exposing you, getting out of the way all clothing items between you.

Toto's gaze immediately fell between your legs, hungry and unyielding, lust radiated off him, staring at your wet folds.

His free hand caressed your breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You couldn't help but gasp as he explored you.

You could feel the dampness spreading along your thighs, revealing just how much Toto excited you. Your breath hitched as he moved lower, circling his thumb around your clit.

"Oh, Daddy," you cried out, your voice barely more than a whimper.

A low growl escaped his throat before he replaced his thumb with two fingers, pushing them inside you, tasting, teasing, and sending you into a whirlwind of emotions.

He fingered you hard, getting you wet and splashing drops around and provoking soaking sounds, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

The mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you was dizzying, till you were completely out of breath and begging him to allow you a breather.

Before the head of his big cock burst through the barrier of your tight entrance, stretching your pussy wider than you ever thought possible. Your eyes went wide as you felt him penetrating you.

You gasped, feeling the intense sensation of being filled to the brim. "Daddy!" you moan loud, your pussy throbbed around his cock as it slid in further. "Daddy!"

Toto growled a low, animalistic sound that sent shivers down your spine. He pulled back slightly, then thrust you again and harder, this time driving deeper, ripping open your tight pussy even more.

You cried out, a mix of discomfort and delight coursing through you as he took you, possessing you in a way you only had dreamt of.

"Fuck, you're so tight, pet," he grunted, his voice thick with desire. "Your pussy is so fucking tiny."

His cock slammed into you relentlessly, and you moaned in pleasure with each rough thrust, feeling your body buried more and more. Your stomach pressed hard against the furniture's fabric. You felt the sofa creaking.

Toto's fingers dug into your hips, leaving angry red marks on your skin. You wouldn't have it any other way.

He picked up the pace, his hips slapping against your ass. You clung to the sofa, your nails digging into the textile as he pounded you harder and harder.

You let out a strangled cry as he hit the spot deep inside you. His name spilled from your lips, a desperate plea for more.

Toto responded by increasing the pace of his pounding, his cock hitting you with a savage, powerful intensity that started to hurt. You will be limping tomorrow.

You could feel every inch of him filling you, stretching you open.

With your lips locked in a fiery kiss, you felt a wave of moisture flood between your legs in anticipation of your climax.

"Such a good little pet" he growled, his voice thick with lust. You kept feeling the sensitive humid folds of your pussy stretch to accommodate him, engulfing him inch by delicious inch.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, teetering on the edge of release, your body tensing as you got closer and closer.

"Daddy, please, I can't take much more of this." you moaned, gasping for air, buried under his entire weight.

He pulled back, his cock coming free with a slick, wet sound. You felt a surge of disappointment and confusion, but before you could even begin to process what had happened, he grabbed you by the hips and flipped you over.

Your hands and back landed roughly on the couch as Toto pulled your hips up, his big hands grabbing your ass tightly and pushing you towards him with such force. The change in position left you feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable, your pussy slit in full display for him.

Toto stepped closer, his hard cock brushing against your slit. You could feel the heat radiating from his length as he leaned down, his hips hovering above your pussy. "You want daddy to fuck his little pet like this?" he asked, his voice low.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, daddy. I need to cum."

"Good pet," he murmured, his voice full of lust.

With a swift thrust, he buried himself inside you, making you cry out in pleasure-pain. Your muscles stretched and clenched around him, struggling to accommodate his girth.

Toto didn't give you a moment to adjust, pulling almost all the way in, and then out, before slamming back into you.

You were still sensitive from the earlier fucking, and you whimpered at the unexpected intensity.

"Oh, fuck, pet" Toto grunted, his fingers digging into your hips, rocking you towards him. He started pistoning into you, his massive cock splitting you wide open again, filling you completely.

With each thrust, you could feel yourself losing control, your sanity slipping away as he dominated you. Toto's powerful big hands gripped your small hips, pulling you back into him.

"Fuck, you wanted this, my little pet, don't you," Toto growled, his breath hot. "I can feel you clenching around me, trying to milk my cock. You're such a little slut, aren't you? Taking my cock like this and begging Daddy for more." Toto grunted, his balls smacking against your clit.

You could feel yourself getting close to the edge, your toes curling with each punishing thrust. "Yes, yes, oh god yeah!" you cried out, your voice hoarse from the pleasure-pain of being so thoroughly fucked.

Toto seemed to take this as a sign to speed up, you could feel him hitting your cervix with every stroke, a painful pleasure to possess you entirely.

"Yes, oh fuck yes, Daddy!" you screamed, your voice echoed through the office.

Your body began to tingle all over, a sure sign that you were close to orgasm. You held on to the sofa edge.

Toto's thrusting became erratic, his breathing ragged as he neared his own release. You could feel your climax building, every nerve ending trembling with the anticipation of release.

"Come for me, pet," Toto groaned.

Your legs were shaking, your muscles trembling, but you held on, desperate to cling to this incredible moment with every fiber of your being.

The room seemed to spin as you tried to focus on the sensation of Toto's cock as it filled you, pounding your body with a raw force that left you feeling small and powerless.

His fingers twisted in your hair as he traced your jaw with his tongue while his cock slid in and out of you.

You let out a moan as he angled himself deeper inside you, hitting your G-spot dead on. He started moving his hips in a slow grind, pressing every inch of himself against your inner walls.

"I bet you feel my dick stretching you? You like it when daddy owns you like this, hmm?"

You could only nod, unable to form coherent words as you submitted to him.

Toto's hand reached down, two fingers teasing your clit in time with his powerful thrusts. You arched your back, impaling yourself even further onto his hard shaft, urging him to continue the delicious torment.

He obliged instantly, expertly manipulating your clit as his cock ravaged your pussy, your hips bucking into every forceful thrust. Your pussy clenched and unclenched, desperately trying to hold onto him.

"Daddy, I'm cumming," you gasped.

Toto's thrusting became even more unhinged, his sweat-slicked body slapping against yours. You could feel him pulsing inside you, and you knew he was holding back too, waiting for you to go over the edge first.

"Fuck, call me daddy when you come," Toto groaned, his voice a guttural growl.

You felt your orgasm arriving, your muscles tensing as you let out a guttural cry. "Oh, daddy!" you moaned hard, as you finally came apart.

Toto groaned, his hips bucking as he sank himself to the hilt inside you, the pulse of your orgasm milked him, coaxing him closer and closer to his own release.

"Fuck, pet," he panted. "I'm so fucking close."

"Fill me up, Daddy," you gasped, still riding the waves of your orgasm. "Give it to me."

Toto's whole body tensed. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you and let out a primal roar as he came hard.

You could feel the hot sprays of his release filling you up, and you moaned in pleasure as he emptied himself into you. Toto's cock throbbed and pulsed.

You stayed like that for a moment, your bodies heaving and trembling as you rode out the aftershocks of our intense climaxes.

Toto's body weight lifted from you, his sweaty chest pushing away slowly, as he reluctantly pulled out of you.

Your pussy throbbed and pulsed where he had filled it moments before, and you could feel his cum still trickling out of you, slicking up your inner thighs. You could feel the sweat drying on your skin, and your heartbeat beginning to return to normal.

"You were incredible, pet. I knew you would be, from the moment you entered." Toto said.

You smiled, still catching your breath as the words of praise washed over you like a warm embrace.

"I know, I'm daddy's little pet, after all."

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[justporo]

Killing you softly

Astarion thinks it's a good idea to challenge himself - with not touching you while you have control over him. And what he gets from that are pleasures beyond what he could've imagined. (NSFW)

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: We interrupt the winter fluff for some dirty smut. That's right - it's still smut Sunday - I blame certain Discord servers for influencing me! It's been quite a while though since I wrote full on smut, so here you go... Also lets not talk about how this became so long - I have no self control anymore.

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You) Warnings: explicit sexual content, talk of past trauma, bit of angst (if you squint), dom/sub dynamic, blood Wordcount: 5,8k ~~~

“Why would you want to do that? That sounds like absolute unfun, if you ask me”, you said to Astarion with furrowed brows.

The vampire was sitting on the edge of the bed while you were straddling his lap. Your hands were in his curls, your hips pressed to his in desperate need of feeling him as close as possible.

You had made that mistake again where you had leaned in for a kiss when you had been lounging in the living room together. Now you sat on the bed, eager to feel every inch of Astarion’s naked body against yours.

One could have asked when you would finally learn your lesson - but maybe this was a mistake you’d be happy to keep making.

Actually, you had planned to do a lot of other things. But it had ended how it so often did with Astarion: sweet kisses had become heated. His hand that had, at the start, only softly cupped your cheek had started to caress your jawline at first. Then his index finger had slowly wandered down your neck - along the line of your quickly heightening pulse - while his tongue had slipped in your mouth to make you forget everything but him.

And just like always it had worked wonderfully. You had easily fallen prey to his lure. Quickly the two of you had gotten up from where you had been comfortably sitting, tumbling up the stairs to your bedroom - to enjoy each other in the luxury of your gigantic bed.

The way there had taken you quite a while though. Especially since Astarion never seemed to be able to stop himself from pressing you against the nearest wall, making you moan helplessly while he pinned you there, enjoying how you writhed against his body. How you tried to wrap yourself around him fully while he felt the rising heat from your body. How he was ready to ignite you even more and then be consumed in the surely following inferno.

His hands had been wandering over your body - squeezing your butt, almost clawing down your back - while you had put one of your legs around his slender hips and with a groan had bucked your hips against him. You felt his growing arousal clearly. Clearly enough to make your lower stomach clench with need and throw your head back while you knew you must be soaking wet already.

You were truly amazed by how quickly that man could turn you into a mess with a few kisses, haughtily whispering into one of your pointy ears and letting his hands work his magic. It was almost like you had simply been made for him laying his hands upon you, your body welcoming him every time as if he’d been lost for an eternity and had only just returned - finding that you were still solely and truly his.

And all that was why you were even more surprised by his current proposition: with a somewhat cautious smile on his lips he had suggested to try and not touch you at all.

And that’s where you were at: Astarion still looking at you, rolling his tongue around his mouth while trying not to look too anxious and you were still taken aback by his unexpected proposal.

You leaned back a little while you were still straddling his hips - still on the edge of your bed. Your hands wandered from his hair down to his shoulders as you looked at him with a frown on your face, but didn’t know what to say.

“I’d like to challenge myself, darling, that’s all. Try new things - with you”, Astarion answered and angled his head while he looked at you. You saw the tinge of worry in his eyes now that you had voiced your concerns.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips.

Something about this rubbed you the wrong way. But you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it.

“Challenge yourself”, you parrotted flatly.

The vampire awkwardly shuffled around awkwardly and with that made you wiggle around a little on his lap. He avoided your gaze for a few moments before his crimson eyes found yours again: “I trust you fully, my love.”

His eyes were so open then and there, warm orange light from the lamp of the nightstand shining in them, pronouncing their ruby colour even more. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me”, he continued and the meaning of all this slowly settled in for you.

“Astarion”, you whispered softly and cupped his cheek while his eyes kept shining in the dim light - your chest clenched uncomfortably. But before you could say anything else, the vampire spoke again.

“I would surrender myself to you, my heart, give you free reign”, he proposed to you. His voice was firm but you saw his throat work, realised that he was in fact scared. You kept looking at him, pressing your lips into a line, not sure what to say about this proposition - you didn’t particularly like the way he was acting all of a sudden. Way too coy, not at all like his usual cocky self.

In fact, you didn’t like it at all, because you feared it was giving you an unprompted glimpse of a former self of the vampire. A time when he’d probably been in this position - and not of his own volition.

Just the thought alone made you gulp.

And it was almost as if he’d heard your thoughts. Like flipping a switch his signature smirk came back on with full force. Obviously trying to reassure you that everything was just dandy.

“Darling, most people would be more than amazed by a chance like that with me”, Astarion murmured sassily and leaned back on his hands while he threw you a sultry glance with a cocked eyebrow.

But he didn’t need to try anymore, you finally had a feeling you knew what he was trying to achieve. You wanted to indulge him, but you wanted to make a difference. And a plan had already started to form in your mind.

A smile crept onto your face - Astarion might not know it yet but he was in for a treat, you’d make sure of that.

You looked at your vampire as he noticed that your demeanour had changed. A small and careful grin stole onto his lips in anticipation.

Then you arched your back and rolled your neck and head around to loosen the muscles there while your hands pressed harder onto his shoulders. Astarion gasped a little when your hips were pressed even more firmly to his crotch and his erection and your torso and breasts were lifted against his chest with the way you stretched your body. You savoured the feeling of your curves pressing against the sharper lines of him.

When your head came back around you moved to hold his face in your hands, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his - kissing him ever so softly. Strands of your reddish-brown hair fell over your shoulder and onto Astarion as you leaned into him harder while he was still bracing himself on his arms behind him.

When one of his hands was trying to sneak its way around your waist to pull you even closer to him, you grabbed it and pressed it firmly to the mattress. Astarion broke the kiss, one eyebrow twitched, his red eyes were immediately ablaze. You looked back at him, licking your lips and eyes darkening.

Before he could say something, you embraced all the courage you had - and went headfirst.

“Astarion, if we're going to do this”, you started while you were still holding down his hand, your other still cupping his cheek. The way he gazed at you ignited something within you. His lips were still slightly parted and a bit swollen from kissing. Your eyes dropped to them as you rolled your hips again, making the vampire groan.

Then you faltered a little, just short of second-guessing yourself.

“Astarion, if we're going to do this, this won't be about you giving up control because you trust me to overwrite past memories”, you explained and saw how just a tiny bit of hurt flashed through his eyes. His plan, whether fully intentional or not, had been found out.

You quickly continued to get your point across: “If we're going to do this, this will be about you and you getting what you deserve, without the need to perform anything, my love.”

You saw how Astarion's lips parted even more, a small gasp leaving them and his eyes widening. But you saw the excitement in them when your words sunk in.

“And if you want to stop, tell me. Immediately, please”, you pleaded with him and the vampire nodded quickly in confirmation.

Then you let go of his hand and leaned back on his lap a little while the vampire mirrored you, supporting himself with his hands. His gaze wandered all over you. The bulge in his pants was very obviously visible, his cock straining against the fabric.

You looked at his face again and saw how he smiled at you seductively although you had just sealed the deal that you were to be the one putting on a show for him.

“Hit me then, love”, he murmured and licked over his lips and teeth - you could see his fangs glint in the dim, warm light. “I'm ready”, he whispered in a low voice, looking at you from under his brows.

And for some reason that set something off in you. Suddenly you felt very sure about all of this - oh, you'd give him what he deserved.

With your free hand you grabbed his erection that was so prominently placed between your two bodies and squeezed it - hard -, stroking upwards as much as the constraining material of his clothing would allow. The vampire's mouth opened helplessly, a strained sound leaving his lips, his eyes rolling around wildly.

Oh, so maybe not so ready after all. His reaction immediately made you more eager while sending delicious jolts of lust to your loins and the tips of your breasts.

You cocked your head to one side with an innocent, sweet smile and arched your back - showing off your boobs that lined out nicely against your shirt. And while Astarion eyed them hungrily, knowing he would only taste them by your grace and with his erection still firmly in your grasp, you squeezed his cock again. Much harder this time and you pleasantly moaned with him when he groaned breathlessly.

Definitely not ready for what was coming.

Your hand on his face wandered to his chin and your thumb pressed onto his bottom lip, dragging it down a little. Astarion's pupils widened immediately while you kept pressing and squeezing his hardened length through his pants. You felt it twitch under your caress, so you worked him harder, stroking him slowly and forcefully while his moans grew hoarser and you hummed contentedly.

The vampire began to pant heavily while you kept it up, chest heaving, head falling back, causing his lip to slip from under your thumb.

You allowed it and let your hand wander down his throat, exploring the soft naked skin there with your fingertips. Then you let your hand linger at the bottom of his neck, fingers splayed and applying just a hint of pressure while Astarion repeatedly moaned and praised you under his breath for your nimbly working fingers.

After a while of stroking him you noticed that your breathing was almost as ragged as his. You were biting your lip and felt that this - feeling how much your touches affected him - already had you desperately aroused. Lust was swirling around in your whole body and pulsating powerfully, basically throbbing, between your legs.

Being in this position was more titillating for you than you might have ever anticipated. You found you loved watching the vampire slowly unravel under your touch - it made you feel powerful. Not only because you had him curse all the gods for how well you stroked his cock but also for trusting you enough to forsake all deities in the first place - leaving you as the sole goddess in his book.

You desperately needed Astarion to know that: how ethereal he made you feel.

Your hand at his throat wrapped around it carefully but determined, almost like claws now, but still gentle ones at that.

The vampire's head snapped up again and he watched you pleadingly as you pulled him back to you with a moan that bordered on a whimper, pupils so wide there was almost nothing left of his ruby irises. His face was a mirror of desire and the heedless lust you felt, his mouth wide open, tongue almost already lolling out and canines glinting in the warm light.

It was obvious that at this point, would you have asked him to get to his knees and slobber you up like a dog would his most favourite meal, he would have done so eagerly and without hesitation, probably even barking in the process.

You let go of his hardness and wrapped your other arm around him to press his body against yours by pulling him in, almost making him crash into you. Your hand was clawing down his back more now. And then you pressed your open mouth to his to reward him with a kiss, tongue immediately entering his mouth - leaving him no room for questions. You just were the answer.

He greeted you eagerly but you were the one in charge - it was what he wanted tonight. And you would keep it that way.

You kissed him hard, tongue swirling around his, and then dragging along his teeth, making him moan again while a single drop of blood was drawn from you. Your taste on his tongue only making the vampire more feral for what you could give him - if you would allow it.

Then you felt how his arms were trying to wrap around you once more. Probably just muscle memory but this wasn't what you had agreed upon. You broke the kiss and squeezed with the hand around his throat and rolled your hips again, spreading your legs wider - forcefully.

“Behave”, you whispered pointedly as you looked at each other, both breathing heavily.

“You know it's hard with you”, Astarion whispered back in a rough, deep tone.

You chuckled once and rolled your hips again, trying to straddle him even harder than before. “Oh, I know it's hard, love”, you replied because you couldn't resist and tightened the hold on his neck a little more. The vampire let out a pleased and almost unbelieving pant.

“You're taking this on so easily, darling”, Astarion whispered as you could feel his erection twitch even through both of your clothes. His eyes looked like liquid now, molten - lust, need and awe swirling in it. He hadn’t been lying when he had pledged to surrender himself to you.

Instead of replying you quickly moved and shoved him so he lost balance and fell backwards onto the bed. For a moment you just watched him: splayed out before you so willingly and eagerly. It was a sight to behold for sure. And from the look of it, it seemed from Astarion’s point of view it was as well. You were already sure this was altering something essential within the both of you.

The vampire was grinning teasingly at you when you couldn’t rip your eyes from him - and then he bucked his hips swiftly.

Caught utterly by surprise, you almost fell onto him, but caught yourself as you heard his haughty laughter. Even with his own proposition, he was still being sassy.

In response, you grabbed his wrists and then pressed them down on the mattress next to each side of his head while you leaned forward, supporting yourself on your elbows. You moved in as if you were going to kiss him and stopped just out of reach, moving your head from side from side as you gazed upon him. The pale elf eyed you back as he was being held captive by you. All this was a far cry from where you had started indulging in each other - he might’ve never been more with you than in this very moment.

Astarion was enjoying all of this so much already. He would enjoy it even more very soon.

“What did I tell you, you naughty vampire?”, you whispered so close to Astarion’s mouth, that your lips almost touched his.

The vampire went to reply something with a smug grin but you just used the opportunity to bite into his full bottom lip and drag on it with your teeth. Astarion’s words immediately caught in his throat and he grunted from the pleasurable pain.

You didn’t give him time to recover then. Since seemingly the only way to get him to cooperate was to positively overwhelm him.

You quickly moved in for another passionate kiss and just as Astarion was getting into it, you broke away again - leaving him to simply whimper and mourn the loss of your touch. You placed your hands on his shoulders, letting go of his wrists.

Arching your back once more and sitting up straight you dragged your hands from his shoulders down his torso, over the bulge in his pants and then up your own body. As you passed it you grabbed the hem of your shirt and dragged it upwards. The vampire meanwhile was too hypnotised by your wandering hands now to be sassy. You dragged your boobs up with your shirt, softly squishing them as you teasingly moved slower and slower the closer you came to taking off your shirt fully.

You held the two of you at this edge of tension for a moment. And when you finally let your breasts jig down, you heard the soft gasps from your partner while you pulled your shirt over your head.

You saw the yearning look on Astarion’s face as he realised again he wasn’t going to get to touch you, toy with your boobs, let his fingertips tease your already hardened nipples, tease the sensitive bud between your legs with his long, delicate fingers. But you surely would make up for that, maybe even treat him if he behaved from now on.

But just for the moment you demonstrated to him what he had forfeited: you grabbed your tits and firmly squeezed them while you let your head fall back with a lustful moan, then let a hand wander down over your stomach and dip beneath the waistline of your pants, stroking yourself for a few pleasurable moments. And when you looked at your vampire again, you saw how he watched you, biting his lip hard with one fang showing. Carnal hunger was consuming him more with every single one of your passing actions. And you delighted in it more than you had thought possible.

Then you put him out of his misery.

From his thighs you let your hands slide over his chiselled upper body dragging his shirt up in the process. And then you immediately followed the revealed skin with your mouth, eagerly kissing and licking up over Astarion’s smooth, pale skin.

He thanked you with continued gasps and moans that became more desperate the more time you took. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw that his hands were clenching in the sheets, bunching them up since now they didn’t have your body to hold and caress. You could see how his knuckles had visibility turned white from all the force despite his already pale skin.

When you had almost pulled up his shirt entirely, you let your teeth graze over his skin too and especially paid attention to his collarbone with the tip of your tongue while you made a point to look your lover straight into the eyes. Broadly pressing your tongue in the dip at the bottom of his neck, you licked up the line of his throat that Astarion rewarded with a sharp intake of breath while he leaned his head back. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

Besides the lust and carnal need in them, his eyes were so open and vulnerable while being so full with anticipation and admiration as well. You realised he really did trust you fully - and you would do your best to honour that.

You made him shrug off his shirt and threw it after your own. Almost jumping onto his lap again, you dragged on his wrists so he would move up his torso. He quickly obeyed and lifted himself up, fire burning in his red eyes.

You grabbed hold of Astarion’s jaw again and looked him straight in the eye as you presented him with a gift: “You may touch me - until I tell you to stop.”

The vampire’s eyes widened happily. He needn’t be told twice. He wrapped his arms around you, dragged his fingers over your spine while the other immediately squeezed your butt and lifted you a little to drag you closer and make your core rub along his hard cock. His eyes rolled almost into the back of his skull as for the moment he was allowed to enjoy the sensation of caressing you again. You sighed and let him drag up your hips again, basically making you ride him despite the fact that you were both still clothed from the waist down.

You pressed your tits into his face and he immediately took the hint to suck on them sloppily, teasing the tips with his tongue and teeth, making you exhale sharply as you clawed into his shoulders to hold on. He was so eager to please now and to make the most out of the touches you had allowed.

“Indulge yourself, I beg of you”, you offered him in addition as you felt one of his canines tease the soft skin on your breasts. When you looked down at his face you saw how his gaze glinted predatorily at you and without breaking eye contact he sank his fangs into your flesh, drawing small tendrils of blood. You cried out and your nails dragged over his shoulder blades, almost drawing blood yourself.

He sucked on your breasts, tasting your blood while your whole body tensed from the cold, sharp pain scratching through your body and heightening your pleasure even further.

You allowed the vampire to enjoy himself freely for a few moments more before you withdrew yourself from him, telling him stop. With a bit of reluctance he let  you go although frustration flashed over his face. But this was the price: you gave and you took away - but always with his pleasure in mind.

“Good boy”, you complimented his obedient behaviour and saw how he delighted in being praised. You quickly kneeled on the bed again, but only to give him another shove: “Now lay down!”

You watched to see if he would keep behaving and then slid down from the bed so you could first take off your pants and then immediately move onto his. You dragged them down Astarion’s slender hips, while the vampire scurried to help you free him of his constricting clothes. Such an eager little pup again now.

Then you took another moment to look at Astarion in all his glory. He was still only half laying on the bed, holding himself up on his elbows, one leg up and angled on the mattress. His hair was tousled profusely and you saw some soft red scratch marks that you had left on his shoulders -  and of course Astarion’s hardened length showed you just how much he was enjoying all this. He looked up at you with slightly parted lips, more anticipation in his eyes and some of your blood still covering them until his tongue darted out to lick it away.

You bit your lip as you took him in for a moment longer. He mirrored you, his expression surely just as obviously showing his need for you.

Desperately, you were tempted to just jump right to the point where you would both lose yourself and drift up to the stars together. But you didn’t want to be quick about this. In fact, you wanted to take it as slow as you’d be able to, make Astarion slowly but surely lose his mind in the process.

So you better got back to work to make it happen.

The both of you were now already way too worked up to throw in playful banter - there were only gasps and heavy breathing and the thundering of your beating heart in your ears. You motioned Astarion to move up on the bed and as he moved backwards you immediately prowled after him on your hands and knees.

You saw how the pale elf’s eyes were filled - not with fear - but something that looked somewhat similar: impatient anticipation and admiring surprise. Seemingly both of you were pleasantly overwhelmed by how much each of you were enjoying yourself in this reversal of the roles.

Agonisingly slowly you climbed onto the bed while you kept looking at your vampire. Your hair fell over your shoulder, long, soft strands fanning out and covering part of your face as you were making your way up over your prey. And you didn’t stop until you were fully hovering above Astarion. The longest strands of your hair were lazily dragging over the vampire’s chest who looked at you in awe and admiration.

You looked at him, the perfect lines of his face and body and the warm and loving soul you knew lay beneath it all. Love overwhelmed you, filled every fibre of your being as you kept observing him. The person you’d give anything for in an instance.

And even more than that: you know he felt the same for you without a doubt. You saw it mirrored in those crimson eyes that held yours with such longing. And you knew it. Deep in your soul you both knew you belonged to each other. That this was more than just a carnal, material need, so much more.

And he deserved the world. But for tonight, you would start by trying to give him some pleasures that had been twisted and tainted for him for way too long.

“I love you, Astarion”, you whispered breathlessly and then went back to kissing him, shortly feeling a coppery tang on his lips and tongue from the blood he’d taken from you. You took your time now and thus made him slow down too while your hands wandered over his shoulders, chest, arms. The kiss became almost painfully slow, the way your tongues twirled around each other, savouring each other.

You dragged your mouth down his throat after that, caressing his skin messily and eagerly by kissing and sucking, pressing your upper body to his now, so your breasts were deliciously squished against his naked chest. Slowly, you made your way down his chiselled upper body, over his stomach, dragging your boobs over his soft skin, drawing muffled sounds of pleasure from him. All while your hands wandered down his arms until they reached his hands.

You entwined your fingers with his then - for this next part he might have need for at least something to hold onto. Lifting yourself up again you had almost reached your desired destination, kneeling now between his spread legs. His eyes did not leave yours for a moment as you lowered your lips to his erect cock and without further warning took him into your mouth.

You kept looking at him as you took him deeper. His hands clawed into yours and his back arched while you sucked on his dick and let your tongue swirl around it. Astarion’s eyes were filled with desperate need - the likes of which you had never seen with him. The vampire was really grasping onto all you offered and threw himself into the pleasures you blessed him with - headfirst.

And while you mainly focused on Astarion’s pleasure you felt how all this really did a number on you as well. Knowing how much pleasure you could give him heightened your own enjoyment immensely. You already knew that it wouldn’t take long once you would close in on that edge to jump off of.

You felt the tension in the pale elf’s body rise, felt how his grip on your hands became tighter when you took him to the hilt - the only moments when you had to take your gaze off his because subtle tears sprang to your eyes.

He kept whispering your name now - like a mantra, not sure if it was meant to save or doom him. His back arched harder, you felt that he was almost losing control.

But you weren’t done yet, you still had more steps in your plan. So, licking up his shaft a final time, you detangled your fingers from his.

As you moved up again you saw how his cock was glistening from your spit in the low light and you heard how he softly whimpered, caused by the sudden loss of your touch and the unbearable need for release.

But he didn’t need to wait long. You moved up until you were straddling him again and took his length into your hand, working him for a couple moments as you caught his gaze again. Obviously Astarion had a good idea of what your next step would be and had put his arms up over his head to brace himself against the headboard - or to give his hands something else to hold onto for this next part - since your hips wouldn’t be an option.

You positioned yourself over him and dragged the tip of his cock along the heat of your slick core. That alone caused Astarion to groan and buck his hips into your hand. His eyes rolled back so far you almost only saw the white in them now. The breathless grunts that left his mouth were so desperate now - almost begging you without words.

The muscles in his arms were tensing up so much, you could see clearly defined lines now. He looked at you, face contorted by lust. His brows were drawn together in a pleading expression. You could see it took him all of his remaining focus to utter his next words.

“You’re more than I could have ever hoped for”, he pressed out while his chest was rising and falling heavily. “More than I deserve.”

Breathlessly you shook your head, causing him to draw his brows together again - but now in confusion.

“I am exactly what you deserve, my love”, you whispered back as you positioned his hardened length at your core and took him fully in one swift movement.

And suddenly it was your moment to arch your back when electricity ran through your whole body while a loud moan enriched with his name left your lips. You delighted in the sensation of how he felt inside you.

And quite obviously so did Astarion when he cried out your name and let out another curse aimed at the gods that had forsaken him so long ago. In their stead you reigned supreme now.

You began to move, lifting yourself up a little and shifting your hips while you withdrew almost fully from him. Astarion supported you by angling his hips to give you more leverage. Immediately, you felt what you had feared: it wouldn’t take you long now. Then you let your hips slam down again, clenching your core, causing the both of you to inhale sharply.

You started moving continuously. But even though you tried to move in a slow and steady pace you quickly felt yourself lose control. Astarion’s body beneath you was tense as a bow string while his groans became louder and shaky in nature.

You lifted one arm over your head, drawing up your hair while the rhythm of your movements became quicker, harder. Your other hand went down to where your bodies met, working on your most sensitive part, putting in some small effort to push you along with your partner - to be ready to join him.

Astarion kept observing you and drank you in - all this at least as delicious as the blood he had tasted from you. He kept bracing himself while his body tensed more and more.

The way you rode him became almost savage while the vampire tried to steady you bringing the both of you right up to the side of the cliff - and then off it.

The moment Astarion came you saw how he lost himself - you watched his undoing. Unwillingly, his eyes went from yours to the heavens as he pressed out your name and his whole body arched towards you while you felt him twitch inside you.

And immediately after, you too felt how waves of electric pleasure overran you, making you quiver and shake, positively causing you to see stars and blur your vision.

Together you got fully lost in the moment.

And it wasn’t even all about the carnal urges you felt for each other right now but about the deep primal need not to be alone, to tangle together until your hearts, bodies and minds were indistinguishable from each other.

And you surely weren’t alone as you were both taken up to the stars rapidly and then only slowly, comfortably drifted down again.

You’d had to close your eyes in these final moments as pleasure overwhelmed you, but when you opened them now, you were met with the loving gaze of Astarion.

Both your bodies relaxed and you carefully climbed off him, only to sink onto his chest again. You were still breathing heavily and not fully capable of stringent thoughts when you suddenly felt the vampire’s arms around you.

“Thought no touching?”, you babbled breathlessly while you still felt the afterwaves of your high. But you welcomed his comforting, caring embrace and his careful caresses.

“I do not believe you have the power within you right now to fight me about it, darling”, Astarion whispered back, almost as breathless as you. He too was still coming down slowly from where you’d just been thrown. But he already had enough energy in him once more to grace you with his signature smirk again.

“Maybe… Maybe I’ve also had enough of this challenge for one night”, you answered and heard the vampire softly laugh in response while he squeezed you comfortingly and you felt relieved to be held again.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him, suddenly feeling the desperate need to just be close to him, to feel him skin on skin. Just to lay there. Until you would feel the boundaries between your bodies blur, not knowing where your body stopped and his began.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

[ramons-elevator]

Fuck it. Appreciation Post for the amazing QSMP admins.

Heres a list of just a small bit of the amazing shit that they did on/for the QSMP and its players:

Made a huge prison/event for Pac e Mike which later turned into a job for Fit for his lore

Helping Foolish out with his Titan by raising it up, lighting it up, and even making sure the brightness of the light blocks where okay for him

Listening to Fit and Phil the day the task was "Make a grappling squawk" and made it interesting with Walter Bob delivering the news

Making Gegg a reality and letting him run for president

Every event is so cool no matter how big or small. The dungeons the The Jaidens did was so fun and interesting. Every new players event is always chaos but very detailed. Even making stuff for French Independence day and the 4th of July so people could experience each other's cultures.

The amazing wedding cake and rings for Cellbit and Roier's wedding

Helping Tazercraft with the Hide and Seek Arena and making the code so they can actually play hide and seek easier

Giving Charlie, Roier, and Max (idk if theres more) key binds so they easily switch their skins and their names in game

The little jokes/ nods to stuff that happens on the server. Like the day after Missa came back and failed a water bucket clutch, they made one of the tasks "Have a water bucket competition".

Them elaborating on stuff that happens on the server. For instance, Bad putting up mini bulletin board at spawn so they keep everyone updated. So the admins started putting the newspaper there so people could see and be updated.

Philza found an insane mob that basically soft locked your game and Phil messaged the admins telling them that information, to which they immediately disabled the mob.

The side NPCs that everyone fall in love with them. From Walter Bob, a random admin who they let the players create a story and love for, to the Capybaras, which are basically the admins having fun but turned into them having their own lore.

The insane enigmas they make for Cellbit and the story it tells. They make the puzzles very detailed and sometimes can hint to other stories.

Fucking making Felps a new member

Making a button so people like Cellbit who frequently switch between Portuguese and English dont have to constant fiddle with the settings and can just switch easily

The fucking insane shit they do with Max and his story is so cool. From what Ive seen, they give him so much room and freedom to make what he wants. Im always so impressed by whatever Max does and the things he does with this server.

They make sure everyone's lore/story is seen/heard and also try to connect the lore together. From what I have seen, nothing is half assed. Cellbit finding books about a powerful weapon? It is used to trap Pac and Etoiles had to go through the nether to get the shield to counter the sword.

Lastly, just listening to the members and hearing their concerns while also letting them having fun. They joke with the members/audience, but also hearing them out when they think something is unjustified.

The admins care so much for this server and put so much work and love for it. I hope they know it never goes unappreciated or looked over.

[54625]

I miss kelp cocaine

I miss everyone congregating at Phil and Missa's, I miss Roier's over exaggerated moan every time he and Cellbit kissed, I miss everyone throwing their balaclavas on and going "passa tudo...", Tubbo's constant grilling of Fit and Pac (especially Fit), Mike's hairdressing, everyone singing the Pac e Mike wow wow song, Gegg, the admins striking people with lightning perfectly on cue, the Foolish cheating allegations, Slime and Mariana traumatising their viewers, Dorime playing randomly, people turning eachother rainbow coloured with the rainbow jelly, Dapper randomly pulling out all kinds of crazy creatures from his backpack, the extremely overwhelming pre-event meet ups, Las Casualonas, the casualonas dance, Sunny's materialism, Etoiles telling everyone how and why their armour and weapons aren't actually optimised, Phil breaking the fourth wall, Baghera and her fish joke, Rubius abusing his creative power, Foolish ruining the tension during serious moments, Cellbit obsessing over every lore lead or clue, Roier and his hilarious PNG builds, Felps "finally being added to the server", Fit always looking after Mariana's builds in his absence, everyone playing hide and seek, Cucurucho spying on and jumpscaring everyone, Quackity constantly being made fun of for his dead kid, Phil and Fit's aggressive "friendly" flirting, Cellbit talking over Richas' shoulder while he's painting, Leonarda's spoiledness, Ramón's obsession with the citric acid cycle, Slime's ability to show up for an event out of nowhere and just completely derail everything, new players always freaking out about Fit's voice, Quackity desperately trying to find a match since day 1 and always failing, Maximus' talk show, people teleporting in and out at just the right second, Jaiden's love for Hatsune Miku infecting the server, Bad and Foolish's encounters, Ramón threatening to blow himself up or digging himself into the ground when he doesn't get his way, Tallulah drowning herself when she doesn't get her way, the hilarious mistranslations, the wonderful screenshots, Vegetta's mines, Jaiden's expanding list of nationalities, Antoine being an enigma, the in-game karaoke place, Bobby starting fights, Juanaflippa dying over and over, Empanada trauma dumping about her first death to Bagi, Cellbit's vivo turbo ad, Bad yelling "language!", Pol and Foolish and Mouse not being able to stop laughing around each other, Pierre and Max's damn furry club, "no mames!", Spreen leaving for cigarettes, Bad stealing furniture, Missa being incomprehensibly cringefail (I will never forget that "bucket clutch"), Felps' hole, Tubbo's bigger hole, Mike going crazy that one time, Chayanne whipping out his cooking utensils, "Fofoca!", Pomme being the French Sniper, Pepito being homeless for a sec? Richarlyson's many personalities and characters, Tilin being "la tres leches", Trump even being called Trump to begin with, Cucuruchito flirting with everyone, dozens of plots to break into various federation buildings, hundreds of rule breaks, DanTDM being theorised to be Bagi's missing brother, Etoiles' love-hate relationship with the codes, Kameto going out for milk, Tina's heavily one sided rivalry with Fit, everyone changing their skins for events and some people being so extra with it, things falling into chaos every time an event needed them to travel a long distance together, the messy group photos, Charlie's grief spirals, people meeting up at Spreen's bar way back when, everyone making an effort to speak languages they don't speak, the sharing of international memes, the teaching of swear words, the joy that was born from the interconnectivity.

Just all of the things, dumb, hilarious, or adorable. The moments, bits and little jokes that made the QSMP so engaging, fun and entertaining to watch. That made you feel like you were participating in one massive celebration. I miss it.

[wonyrs]

feeling (un)lucky

nishimura riki x fmr gnr fluff, est. relationship warnings food, threats of breaking up, physical touch (kicking used once) wc 625 + library #

‘ one mistake almost ruins the entire date (but don't fear, for nishimura riki is here!). drabble style

“are you being serious right now, riki?”

your anxiety levels peaked as u stare at your boyfriend in disbelief. he shares your panic and frowns.

“why would i lie about this, babe?” he answers, his tone nervous. niki looked like he was going to shit his pants— whereas you would’ve taken a photo of if it weren’t for the current circumstances. “please forgive me.”

“i’m so close to punching you right now, nishimura. who forgets their wallet on a date at a millionaire’s restaurant?” you whisper-shouted.

there was a server behind you two, secretly eyeing you both in suspicion while handing out the meals. any decibel louder and the security might be called in.

“i’m sorry, okay?” niki pleads, his hands pressed together in a begging motion. you sigh and shake your head.

so much for a date night.

it took both of you weeks of preparation to be able to match the restaurant’s vibe. the establishment being settled at the top of the namsan seoul tower made the prices (un)reasonably expensive.

your boyfriend, who was on your last nerve, dismissed your worries on whether the prices were too high (quote: “i got the money under control. just leave it to me, princess ;).

turns out all his smugness about the finances went back and bit him in the butt seeing as how he forgot his card at home— almost an hour from the tower AND no one is back there to fetch it for him. talk about bad luck.

“if i could just call jay-hyung to go back and bring it here then mayb-“ a voice cut him off. you turn to the sound and your heart drops down to your ass. the last possible person you’d ever want to see.

“excuse me, sir and ma’am,” the staff started off. “we’ve noticed that you’ve… um… been finished for quite some time and,” they give you an awkward smile. both of you reciprocate.

“were wondering if there is anything else you’d like to order, or if you’d like the bill now?” your eyes widen. you whip your head to your boyfriend and signal with your eyes ‘no!’. he looks indecisive and nudges your foot underneath the table.

you held back a remark and resorted to softly kicked his shin instead.

“um… we’d actually like to order this special please,” you point to the menu, “if we can.”

the waiter grins and nods his head. he straightens his posture and walks back to the kitchen, ready to inform the team of the new order.

“riki. babe. love of my life. please call jay right now, i’m afraid this distraction won’t last long,” you lean over the table and grip his hands in yours. niki’s phone was in his hand, dialing the numbers of your potential saviour.

“it’ll be fine, n/n,” he assures you, rubbing his thumb over yours in an attempt to calm you down. “the most we’ll get is a scolding- but at least we won’t wash dishes!” niki laughs.

you roll your eyes and pinch him, inciting a small ‘hey!’ from the boy. while he did relax your nerves- just a little bit- the annoyance from earlier was still there.

with other couples chat in brisk, you two are stuck in a dilemma with only one person to rely on. your hands still intertwined, niki squeezes yours as comfort- whether for you or himself, we’ll never know.

“if we finish this next meal and jay isn’t here, consider this our last restaurant date, ‘ki.”

niki’s eyes widen in fright, practically leaping over the table to grab your shoulders. he shakes you around like a ragdoll while the other customers send over weird stares, their own conversations dimming down slowly.

“wait- please don’t say that, babe!”

note hi!! first drabble kind of bad :P but its ok!! more room for improvement (also TXT at knotts?? ARGHH) @cupidhoons read this before i posted :3

[01zfan]

bambi | j. sc

rapper!sungchan x stalker!reader | 10k words

FIRST INSTALLMENT OF MY SERIEZ WHO CHEERED? anyways THIS is the darkest thing i’ve ever written. like this bitch is crazy omg! sungchan in this universe makes music like the album Nowhere by DUCKWRTH featuring The Kickdrums. i specifically listened to indica la roux on that album while writing this.

contains: stalking, references to a toxic relationship, physical violence (reader gets into a brief altercation with someone), jealousy, angry/rough sex, sungchan is disgusted by the reader a little bit!

rock the house masterlist | ko-fi

we are in the city of love and you won’t even look at me.

you barely had enough light to write on the top line of your notebook. you had to uncomfortably slouch in your booth seat to bring your face as close to the paper of the journal as possible. the single candle burning in the center of your table and the dim wall light barely gave you enough vision. you never understood the point of restaurants barely having any lighting. how were you supposed to properly enjoy your food if you couldn’t see it? you despised the fact that places of his choosing lately only seemed to be dimly lit establishments.

once you were done writing on the top line of your notebook you closed it and bound it shut with the leather band. you leaned back against the vinyl seats of the booth, looking at the gentle flame in front of you. you focused on the wicker, how it was burning closer and closer to its end. right as you shifted your eyes to look towards the almost empty bar, the monsieur clad in white came into your line of sight. 

all he seemed to be doing tonight was get in your way. when you were standing outside of the restaurant, letting your breath vaporize in the cold air as you looked through the window the monsieur came out and asked you if it was a party for one. you only meant to pass by, to not be seen because he had come to the restaurant before you expected him to. but the monsieur’s voice drew attention to you, forcing you to quickly nod your head and confirm that you were eating alone. 

you had your revenge by occupying a booth seat meant for two and only ordering wine. this was the monsieur’s third time coming around with the bottle in his hand and the menu in the other in an effort to get you to order actual food. each time you would only nod towards your empty glass, silently asking him to fill you up again, and each time the monsieur wordlessly filled your empty glass with deep crimson red that almost looked black in the lighting of the restaurant. each time without fail the smell of cherries hit your nose and you would grimace. you covered up your disgust quickly with a sniffle and then a nod of appreciation.

“anything else, madame?” the monsieur moved the menu in his hand towards you. “an hors d'oeuvre, perhaps?” he suggested.

you looked away from the person sitting at the bar to look the monsieur in the eyes. you smiled and shook your head, motioning to the full glass of wine.

“just this. merci.” you said.

the server nodded but didn’t try to hide his annoyance. he walked away from your table with the wine bottle in his hand, getting ready to tend to the people in the restaurant who actually planned on ordering food. you gave your own look of annoyance to his back and rolled your eyes before you picked up the glass of wine.

instantly the sickly sweet smell flooded your senses again, so much to the point you almost gagged. but even if the wine tasted like cheap juice, you still took a big gulp after a moment of hesitation. your taste when it came to wine was insignificant in moments like this. it didn’t matter if you hated it because he loved it. 

you knew his lack of taste for alcohol made him impartial to the ones that sounded sweet. the only time the man sitting alone at the bar would get alcohol was if he was eating dinner with someone else and they wanted it. he would look at the drink menu pretending like he knew what body or mineral meant in regards to wine while taking quick peaks at the person sitting across from him. he would only order what the girl wanted, you remember hearing the phrase that’s what i was going to get! and feeling sick to your stomach watching him lie. 

you were happy that you made sure people speaking for sungchan wouldn’t be an issue a long time ago. 

you found out quickly that girls were spooked entirely too easy these days. all you had to do was send a message from an account without a profile picture and they would cancel on him without a second thought. most of them ghosted him wordlessly, like they were a figment of you and sungchan’s collective imagination. you could never bring yourself to feel pity for threatening the girls, the only thing you felt was confusion. how could they cancel so easily on him? how come none of them wanted to fight for him? you were far from scary, how come they never stood up to you? 

the only time a girl remotely put up a fight was because she was desperate and horny from the alcohol in her system. you remember stumbling after her into the bathroom of a stuffy crowded club and slurring a warning under your breath. the girl only looked to you and scoffed as she touched up her makeup in the long mirror. you silently staggered to each of the stalls to see if you two were alone as she told you that there was no way she wasn’t leaving without the tall attractive man whose songs were on her playlist. but even she gave in easily after you pushed her face into the glass of the mirror, seething into her ear as you repeated your warning. you didn’t let up until she had tears in her eyes and was gripping the edge of the sink so hard her knuckles turned white and her fingernails began to bend. you remember the excitement you felt for initiating an altercation fizzling to boredom at her submitting so easily. you might’ve let her have her fun if she tried fighting back. but she scurried off with her tail between her legs and her hands cradling her face and you never saw her again.

you never understood why nobody ever wanted to stick around sungchan, and he seemed to wonder the same thing. without fail, he would end up at the restaurant or the park or the club alone, looking around for the reason why. he would check his phone countless times, texting and sometimes calling to see where the person had went. where are you? is everything alright? was the latest text in all of his recent conversations, and his call log showed countless attempts to reach someone who was suddenly unreachable. any pity you felt for those girls turned into pity for him, how he was so confused no one wanted to spend time him. 

you also felt pity for sungchan because you knew it wasn’t his fault that his reputation preceded him. despite sungchan’s insightful lyrics in his songs he wasn’t very perceptive. he was unaware that something hung over him like a dark cloud swelling with rain. he was unaware that because of this everyone in the world was scared to get too close to him. you were the boogeyman to some, a whisper of phrases through the grapevine that ran through sungchan’s social circle without ever actually reaching him. you were called a crazy ex-girlfriend, an obsessed fan, a stalker, even a hitman—but that was all wrong. what you really are is his protector. the tribulations and the extent you would go to protect sungchan’s peace was something only you and your journal would know. you weren’t the dark cloud, you were the person behind him holding the umbrella over his head. you could admit in some aspects you were the boogeyman. you were the thing lurking in the shadows and hiding underneath the beds of anyone who doesn’t love or appreciate sungchan the way you do. someone had to be that person, someone had to have the tough job of protecting him. sungchan’s cardinal sin was that he was too trusting, his bambi eyes instantly softened to everyone, welcoming them in even if they intended to bring harm.

that’s why you were so drawn to him in the first place. you remember first seeing him, how his eyes welcomed you in so fast without hesitation. sungchan had no idea that you knew who he was, and you had no idea how close he was to you. he was too trusting that’s why you were able to become a part of his life so easily. before he became too famous to go outside you were there as the supportive person that was too complicated to be labeled as his friend. you were the one that convinced sungchan to go by bambi and to make a career off of being vulgar. you encouraged him to make songs about cursing even though you only heard him do it once and you helped him write about drinking and smoking because he couldn’t handle the taste of liquor and he coughed uncontrollably at even being in the presence of a cigarette. 

many would’ve called sungchan a poser if they knew about him in real life. his lack of a presence on social media helped add to his allure and certified his persona. you remember sungchan often thought called himself a poser due to making songs about a lifestyle he didn’t lead at all. you believed that he didn’t get it—that he didn’t understand the artistry or the irony of bambi. a character created made to be the complete opposite of the big innocent eyes everyone always told him about. 

you think that he felt disdain for the persona you helped create and he hated that his persona got him famous. you blame that for the reason he forcibly removed you from his life—all the other things he told you while you packed your things were simply just lies. you forgave him easily for what he said about you, that was water under the bridge a long time ago. loving and protecting sungchan forever was your part of the deal, and you planned on fulfilling your promise until the end. 

that’s why you were here in paris, one of the places he always talked about taking you to as you stared at his back. he had just played a sold out show, there was no way you could let him celebrate alone. so as he drank his celebratory glass of wine you took another sip yourself, even raising it in the air slightly as if you were cheering him on. 

the monsieur finished his rounds with sungchan, approaching him from behind to top him off. sungchan was slightly caught of guard, and you felt the thrill when he turned slightly in your direction. you instinctively moved your face to the side, trying to conceal your identity in the dimly lit corner of the restaurant where you resided. another couple left the restaurant as the monsieur filled sungchan’s glass the same way he did yours. you saw sungchan shake his head and wave off the monsieur after he leaned in close. you imagined it was the same question he asked you, maybe he tacked on a has your guest arrived yet, sir?

when you were three glasses of wine deep and it was just you, sungchan, a couple, and an old man left in the restaurant you started getting sloppy. this always happened when you were drunk and thinking of sungchan. you started clearing your throat a little louder than usual, staring at his back a little harder, and writing in your journal a little faster. the sound of your pen running over the pages filled the space you occupied. the old man looked towards you a couple times when you would let your gaze wonder around the rest of the restaurant. he sat on the other side, a pasta dish half eaten as he observed you carefully. you couldn’t be bothered to care about his gaze, if he was curious or silently judging you. you only continued to drink and write in your journal as you entertained your wine drunk ramblings.

you had made it to a new page of your journal when the last couple left the restaurant. you wrote about his show, how you were overwhelmed seeing so many people in the crowd from the balcony. you wrote about looking around the venue hearing the lyrics of a song sung back to him onstage. they don’t know the song was about me. you wrote about being in the studio with sungchan, just you, him, and a song about your body playing in his studio headphones. you wrote about what you did to him then and what you would do to him now as your hand began to lose it’s precise coordination. when you recalled sungchan lighting up the back of the venue and seeing him narrow his eyes as he looked in your general direction the end of your e’s trailed off the page. your pen to abruptly cut off at the end. your face started to feel hot to the touch and you looked to your empty glass. 

you had lost count a long time ago and you realized you lost your perception of time when you looked to the bar again to find that sungchan was no longer there. you quickly looked around the nearly empty restaurant, scanning the tables and the area behind you as you tried to find him. when no one emerged from the bathroom you realized you had missed him. you looked down to your journal, noticing that your handwriting had devolved and you somehow made it to the bottom of another page. you leaned back against the vinyl of your seat again, rubbing out the tension in your shoulder from slouching for a long period of time. you entertained a thought of getting another glass to loosen yourself up but you decided against it—you had an unfamiliar transit system to navigate once you left. you instead moved the wine around in tiny circles, watching the small amount you had left coat the inside of your glass before settling again at the bottom.

you continued to mindlessly stare at your wine glass as the old man left the restaurant. when he bid an au revoir more waitstaff clad in white started coming through the swinging doors from the back of house into the main dining area. when they started shooting you annoyed glances and folding silverware in the booths surrounding yours you finally got the check. you imagined that sungchan was already in his hotel room, trying to contact another date that had stood him up. you imagined him pacing around the room begging for an answer to an empty mailbox as to why she bailed without saying a single word. you briefly thought about going to see him, or the chance of running into him on the way to your hotel but you let those thoughts melt away by the time you signed the bottom of the receipt. 

while you pulled your jacket from the booth beside and slid your journal into your bag you stared at the barstool sungchan sat at. his empty wine glass and the bottle still sat there. if you were alone in the dining area you would’ve made an attempt to steal it. you could’ve concealed the wine bottle into the deep pocket of your coat, maybe even steal the glass to compensate for not sitting by him. at the very least you should’ve sent sungchan a bottle, just to see his eyes get big as he scanned the restaurant looking for the person who knows him so well. but you settled for wishing once again as you left the left the booth and walked around the circular tables to the exit.

in the cold paris night even underneath the fur coat that went all the way down to your calfs you were freezing. after the restaurant door was shut and locked behind you your arms instinctually came together, rubbing up and down the expanse to try and create warmth. you looked from side to side even though you knew where you were going, trying to compose yourself enough for the walk to the station. when you still felt cold you inwardly laughed to yourself about how the animals you were wearing died for nothing. you took an experimental step in your heels, and when you could walk balanced you turned right to head towards the train station.

you were distracted by trying to get home as fast as possible. you were too focused on your heels clicking on the brick roads making sure you were walking in a straight and composed line. you prioritized closing your body in on itself to try and generate more heat instead of taking in your surroundings. you were distracted by your vaporized breath and thinking about the weather back home that you didn’t notice the long strides coming up behind you. 

for a moment, it was scary. you were looking down the small alley when you felt the hairs raise on the back of your neck. you turned away to look over your shoulder just to be pulled by your arm towards the space between two buildings that previously gave you a sick feeling. the force of the pull caught you off balance, when you tipped back on your heels another hand had to keep you upright. you couldn’t scream, you were so surprised and desperate to regain balance that you didn’t make a single sound. adrenaline and fear coursed through your veins as you were quickly turned around and pushed against the brick side of the building.

sungchan catching you off guard when you dedicated your life to watching him was ironic. the fact that you didn’t know it was him instantly was almost comical. when you understood it was him you couldn’t stop yourself from smirking. maybe it was the wine coursing through your veins that made you start to laugh. your cackles ricocheted between the two building and the blood rushing in your ears you didn’t hear what sungchan said at first. you only stopped laughed when he pushed you up the wall by his grip on your arms until your feet dangled uselessly in the air. 

sungchan finally looked you in a dark secluded alleyway of paris, his narrowed down to slits before he realized who you were. his eyes became saucers, the whites of his eyes becoming more and more exposed and his grip on your arms faltered to the point that the tips of your feet brushed the ground.

“i fucking knew it.” he said quietly. 

the smell of cherries and smoke fanned across your face. instead of grimacing you embraced it, breathing in so deeply your chest lifted. sungchan still had his hands on your arms and you were still pressed to the harsh wall. you felt a dull throb on the back of your head as the adrenaline of being caught like prey wore off. 

you didn’t fight against his grip, you only bent your arms at the elbow as far as they could reach. you caressed the sleeves of sungchan’s winter coat and pinched the rough gray tweed between your fingers. he looked from your face down to your hands and with a disgusted look he let you go.

as sungchan backed into the brick wall of the alleyway opposite of you, you had a moment to compose yourself. silently he watched you run a fast hand down the sleeves of your fur coat to wipe off the dust. you backed away from the wall and straightened your sleeves, and quickly patted your jostled hair. when you were put together you leaned against the wall relaxed, trying to control the excitement you had been chasing after for so long.

“what are you doing here?” sungchan asked.

“you know i’ve always wanted to come to par—” 

“bullshit.” your eyes widened at how natural curses seemed to roll off his tongue now. ”what are you doing here?”

sungchan looked at you from the other side of the alley like he didn’t already know. you were here because he was here. you could see the pieces slowly coming together in his mind, maybe he was more perceptive than you thought. when it finally all clicks you see him roll his eyes up to the sky, nodding his head as he speaks.

“i fucking knew it.” he repeats.

you still lean against the wall, the severity of the situation hasn’t set in for you yet. your inability to take sungchan as a threat even when he’s the angriest you’ve ever seen him is your biggest character flaw. your mind is only replaying the split second he brought you fear, the small moment of all your terrorizing on his life came back to you.

“how did you know?” you ask while wedging your hands between yourself and the wall. you only hope to provoke sungchan more by being relaxed, calmly asking questions while he actively loses his mind.

you see him look down from the sky to stare you down. you return his hard gaze with an innocent curiosity and cross your legs to balance on one heel. 

“i swore i saw you in the crowd last night, and shotaro thought he saw you at the club months ago. i didn’t want to believe it but—” when sungchan saw you fail to hide a smile his eyes showed indignation. he stopped leaning against the brick wall to try and make himself seem bigger “you find this funny? i should call the cops.” he said.

you felt the sick thrill and adrenaline course through your veins again. 

“so do it.” you said.

sungchan tilted his head at the sincerity in your words. he recognized your blown out bedroom eyes and the way you were getting excited. he shook his head in disgust again, but didn’t turn away from you.

“you’re disgusting.” sungchan seethed.

“i know, you wrote a song about it.” you looked down the alleyway, looking past the blue dumpster to the other side of the road. you smirked to yourself before leaning your head against the brick wall again. you playfully touched your chin like you were trying to recall something. “i think then though you used the word nasty.” you said.

you were playing with sungchan and he knew it. you both knew even if he cussed now, he still wasn’t someone who could call the cops on anybody. you both still remembered when he lived in the cheap apartments that he would hear illegal activity all night and turn a blind eye to it. 

sungchan also hated to admit that he still had a piece of him that was protective of you. to be fair, he only recently noticed you lurking in the corners of his life. when he ended the relationship he thought it was a clean break, that you were holding up your end of the no contact agreement. when he came into fame he couldn’t help but think of you, and the sightings of you in the crowd of the shows he thought were projections of his mind made him miss you. when you slightly lost your balance on your heel the muscle memory of his body almost made him clear the distance between your bodies. he had to cross his arms to occupy his hands but it was too late—you looked at him with a knowing smirk as you went back to standing on your two feet. 

he hated himself for the fact that he couldn’t pull away from you. sungchan recalled being in this position with you before—after a show, him looking down at your body leaned against the wall as you looked up at him with stars in your eyes. so much has changed in your relationship since then but sungchan felt the butterflies all the same. the stars in your eyes caused by the street lamps practically sparkled over your glassy pupils. he shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine. he found it harder and harder to be scared of you when you looked so welcoming and familiar opposite of him. you looked so warm in the fur coat he bought you with his first paycheck and suddenly shivered.

“your show was really good by the way.” you said, bringing your jacket closer to your body.

sungchan’s first step was small. his feet barely brought him away from the wall he was up against, but when he took the step forward you stopped leaning. every hair on your body stood on end, and for the first time in god knows how long sungchan felt unfamiliar. you spent so much time observing him that you forgot what it felt like to be the center of his attention. his second step was daunting, it made you straighten your posture against the wall and bring your hands from behind you to rest them at your sides.  

the closer sungchan got the more you realized how big he had gotten. from the other side of the alley he was the same height as you, and from afar in his baggy attire he seemed small. but when he stood in front of you it left you craning your neck upwards to see him. he looked down at you with a look of disgust that shouldn’t have evoked anticipation shooting up your spine. 

when he brought his hands up from his sides you stiffened. his hard gaze did not falter in the slightest as he gripped your arms the same way he did before. you winced from the pain, he was pressing directly onto the forming bruises. when he saw your face flash in pain he didn’t let up, he only squeezed tighter until you parted your lips to groan. puffs of air in exasperation floated between your two bodies before dissipating into the night sky. you noticed sungchan’s breaths coming out deep and heavy as you both held eye contact. you felt his hands wrap around the circumference of your upper arm, pulsing his grip to remind you how strong he was—that he was in control.

“you’re sick.” sungchan seethed.

you wordlessly nodded your head.

“you’re pathetic.” sungchan said.

you swallowed thickly and brought your hands to grasp at the sleeves of his shirt. instead of caressing the fabric your clutched it in your hands desperately and held on so tight you thought you were shaking. when you didn’t back down from sungchan’s degradation his look softened.

“what do you want from me?” sungchan asked.

your eyes grew even wider at his question. you had been chasing temporary fulfillment for so long you never stopped to consider what your end goal was. you knew what sungchan truly meant by his question, he wanted to know what it would take for you to leave his life and never come back. you truly didn’t know what it would take, what circumstance would make you leave sungchan alone? maybe he would have to be happy in the tiny world you handmade for him. maybe you had to be a part of his life in any capacity. maybe you had to die or be behind bars. what you wanted from him was insurmountable and was everlasting.

sungchan squeezed your arms hard. the pain made you audibly hiss and clutched at the sleeves of his coat even more. when you focused again on sungchan his eyes had gotten bigger and even more impatient waiting for your answer. he shook your arms for emphasis, and you shook your head.

“everything.” you said quickly.

“you want everything from me?” he asked.

sungchan spoke like he was giving you a chance to change your answer. he wanted you to turn into a babbling apologetic mess crying just let me go and i’ll never bother you again. he wanted you to seem apologetic, but the only thing you seemed sorry about was that this didn’t happen sooner. 

you doubled down on your answer, nodding your head as sungchan loomed over you. you weren’t scared of him, when he let go of you for the second time your body leaned towards his touch.

“give me everything and maybe you’ll never hear from me again.” you reiterated.

sungchan looked down at you again and scoffed. who were you to demand anything from him? why was he considering to give it to you? he was in the city of love for the first time in his life arguing with someone who was ruining his life. sungchan was disgusted with himself for almost finding it romantic. how long had you been following him before he found out? how much of your savings did you spend to follow him out here? did you go to every single one of his shows? he knew you were a looming presence in his life, but he was moved by your devotion. when he’d hear your voice over his shoulder in the studio while recording. did he need you the same way you needed him? was there a world where your roles were reversed? where you were the famous one and he was the one following you around the world? in some sick way he understood you, sometimes the thought of you becoming someone else’s problem made his stomach sink.

sungchan tried his best to hide his thoughts behind a stone cold resolve but you still looked up at him smiling like you knew everything. your smirk disgusted him, the way you still reached for him made his stomach turn. he doesn’t know why he gripped your bare wrist and yanked you from the alley to flag down a taxi.

your feet lagged behind the rest of your body again at sungchan’s abrupt strength. you nearly lost your footing as you stumbled towards the road. you looked at the back of sungchan’s head, his black strands of hair that peaked from underneath his beanie. you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at the sight of his hand wrapped around your wrist. you had forgotten what his touch felt like on your bare skin. 

you were still off balance when sungchan opened the back of the taxi cab and guided you in first by your wrist. you stumbled into the seat ungracefully, bringing the attention from the driver to you. he looked in the rearview mirror, and you did your best to ignore him as you scooted to the other end of the taxi to make room for sungchan. he came into the back of the cab calmly, sitting down and buckling himself in. 

“where to?” the driver said once sungchan closed the door. 

the driver was still looking to you in the rearview mirror, cutting nervously to the man sitting on the opposite side of you. there was no way the driver didn’t see sungchan pull you from the alley and roughly usher you into the car. the act of being seen quickly became your goal instead of something you were actively trying to avoid. you hoped that everyone in the ninth arrondissement of paris saw sungchan dragging you around. with the drivers eye still on you, you looked to sungchan expecting him to tell the driver where to go. 

sungchan only returned your confused gaze, even tilting his head to the side when you said nothing.

“you know where i’m staying right?” he said harshly.

you nodded and swallowed thickly before telling the driver where to go in an embarrassingly meek voice. when you were done you watched the driver hesitate for a moment before starting the meter and shifting the gears.

the ride back to sungchan’s hotel he kept his eyes trained outside the car. he looked at the passing lights and businesses that were closing down for the night. you didn’t bother to look at anything but him. occasionally you would twist your wrist that was still in his hold just to feel his hand tighten around it in warning. you uselessly pawed at his arm, baiting sungchan into displaying his strength again and again. if you were lucky it would leave a bruise. 

the only time you looked away from sungchan was when the taxi crossed over the bridge. the whole city was lit up but the lights on the eiffel tower stole your attention. you looked out sungchan’s video to get a view of it, how everything seemed so small next to it. sungchan looked at you from his peripheral vision and a beat later he leaned back in his seat to give you a better view. you ignored it for his sake and flexed your hand in his grip again.

he didn’t let go of your wrist until you were in front of the hotel. he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door, not bothering to look back at you.

you clambered over the seats while sungchan paid, and when he was done he grabbed your wrist again and pulled you out of the car. you were used to the yanking and the force behind his pulls now, you were no longer stumbling on the ground and you kept up with him. 

your clicking heels sounded on the brick walkway and the marble flooring of the lobby. you clicked behind his long strides and you basked in the stare of the hotel concierge as she looked up from her desk to watch sungchan pull you through the lobby. an elevator was waiting for you two when he pressed the up button, the metal doors opened to an empty car. just like with the cab sungchan led you in first by the grip he had on your wrist. you instinctually went to the corner of the elevator, watching him press the button to the eighth floor before repeatedly pressing the close button.

when the elevator doors closed sungchan only focused straight ahead. you were silent in the corner of the elevator, picking up his subtle hints that he needed you to be still.

the doors opened to the eighth floor and sungchan looked both ways before heading left. you followed behind him silently, trying to be mindful of your heels on the carpet of the hallway. you had no concept of what time it was now, but you could only imagine it was late. the roads were empty and it seemed like in all of paris only you and sungchan were awake. 

when sungchan pulled his keycard from his back pocket you pulled in a breath. it was the loudest you had been since talking to him in the alley. sungchan tapped the keycard against the doorknob and you saw the red light flash green before he pushed it open.

you couldn’t even make it through the door before he pushed you against the wall. you realized in that moment that he was being gentle with you in the alleyway. your back hit the wall, and sungchan didn’t give you space to move as he came close to you. 

instead of gripping your arms sungchan ghosted his hand over your neck, and instead of letting you tip your own head up to look at him he did it by pulling your hair. he got close to you, watching how you were completely at his mercy in this position. you should’ve been scared, both of you knew it. sungchan was capable of squeezing the life out of you then and there, some would argue he had the right to. but when sungchan looked into your eyes he didn’t see fear. what he saw was desperation that was so palpable he could taste it. you looked at him pitifully with eyes of want instead of terror, and you leaned into his threatening touch instead of pulling away. 

sungchan wanted to see if he could scare you, maybe if he got a little closer you could see the anger in his eyes and if he squeezed around your soft neck your eyes would widen in shock. but as he got closer you only preened your lips closer to his and parted your lips when his nose pressed into yours. sungchan watched you press your hands flat against the wall, trying to lift yourself up to get closer to him. his lips were inches away and you shut your eyes and tilted your head in anticipation. sungchan watched you shake and get on your tiptoes to try and close the distance. he couldn’t take it anymore when he saw your tongue poke past your lips to wet them with spit. the habit you always had before kissing him made his reservations crumble. his hand left your neck and went to your jaw instead, closing the distance so fast your teeth bumped against his.

sungchan’s lips were soft against yours but his actions were rough. immediately he stuck his tongue into your mouth, laving your teeth and the sides of your mouth an an excess amount of spit. anytime you leaned or tilted your head the way he didn’t want he would tug at your hair. when you brought your hand from your side to try and paw at him sungchan let go of your jaw to press your wrist against the wall. you were still, essentially a puppet in his hands that only moved its lips in the way he wanted. when he leaned his body against yours to keep you against the wall you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning into his mouth.

sungchan pulled away completely at the vibration. both of your chests were rising and falling, and sungchan’s heavy breaths through his nose fanned your dewy skin. your coats that kept you warm in the paris winter only made sweat line the planes of your skin in the thick air of the room. you felt sweat forming in the small of your back and your hands were clammy and shaking as you experimentally reached towards the buttons of sungchan’s coat. when he didn’t snatch your wrist again you started pushing the buttons through the tiny slits of fabric.

sungchan’s hands clasped over your shoulders before he started working your fur coat off of you. your shivered under his touch and your hands started working quicker, sometimes fumbling with a button. sungchan was still slow, not bothering to push the coat down your arms until they were back at your side. he looked down at you as your thick coat fell to the floor, pooling at your feet. 

when you were out, the air seemed to stand still. you heard the air conditioner kick back on somewhere in the room but it didn’t cool anything between you and him. you only shivered when sungchan ran a feather light touch up your arms until he got to the sleeve of your dress. he pinched the velvet fabric between his fingers. you shamelessly reached across to sungchan’s torso and started pressing your fingers against his stomach to feel the definition of his abs.

“you don’t wanna be seen but you wear this?” he asked while doing a once over of your body.

sungchan was unfazed as your hands became greedier. you pulled his tucked in shirt from his jeans and slipped your hands underneath. you shuddered again at being able to feel his warm and hard skin under your fingertips again. 

while you were pawing at sungchan’s torso and pulling at his back he was calm and collected. he ran his hand over the top of your dress, following the square neckline that left your collarbones on full display. he trailed his hand to the center of your chest and pulled the fabric down. neither of you cared about the stretch or the chance your dress might tear. you only raised your chest, trying to put yourself on display for him as quick as possible.

the fabric of your dress stretched first before you heard the tear. you didn’t know where it was, all you knew was that your chest was exposed. sungchan’s hand left your hair to squeeze your flesh. he gripped so hard you felt the blunt tips of his fingernails dig into your skin. you squirmed from his harsh hold, pressing your head against the wall as you tried to not make a sound. sungchan looked from your chest to your eyes and let go to harshly pinch your nipple. from that you let out a whine of pain, your nails scratched the wall as you kept them pressed there.

“show me what you want.” sungchan said it directly in your ear, cherries and his cologne fanning the side of your face. “so i never have to see you again.” he whispered.

you pulled your shaky hand from the wall and guided his other hand to your chest. you pressed flat against his hand, hoping he remembered your silent cue that you needed him to touch you more. sungchan obliged, kneaded your skin the way he used to. you reached your hand to wrap behind his shoulder. it pulled him closer to you, and you arched your back until your chest pressed into his. you strained against the fabric of your dress, and you heard more tearing as you tried finding more room. 

before you could reach behind your body to unzip the back sungchan’s hands left your tits and went to your legs. before you could whine from loss of contact he lifted you up. when you wrapped your legs around his waist, you were taller than him. you had forgotten what he looked like from up here, he couldn’t hide anything. the lamp showed his blown out eyes clearly, and caught on his glossy lips. you placed your hand on his cheek while you used the other to slowly pull his beanie off. you had been here before—the image of sungchan’s mussed hair and his needy eyes played in your mind like a movie. you brought your lips down to his hastily and he held your body just like he always used to.

you were so invested in the kiss, you slouched into him the same way you did to your journal, and you poured your all into him too. your hand that was placed gently on his cheek became desperate and clutched his face in a way that caused his lips to part and pucker. you stuck your tongue in sungchan’s mouth this time, subjecting yourself to the god awful wine and cigarettes that he apparently smoked now. one of sungchan’s hands left your thigh to press into your back. you couldn’t stop yourself from sighing contently feeling him respond to you. 

you left sungchan meander around the room holding you up as you explored his mouth like it was the first time again. you were messier than him, letting your tongue swipe over the perimeter of his mouth before sucking on his bottom lip. sungchan let you, and he closed his eyes as he reached out a blind hand to find a surface to set you down on.

he settled for the area right night to the television. when sungchan’s hand found the surface he carelessly swiped his hand over the top, causing whatever rested on it to fall to the ground. both of you heard things from your bag thud against the carpet, but neither of you could be bothered. you were worried about getting sungchan undressed. while he slotted himself between your legs you pushed his long tweed coat off his shoulders. you were impatiently reaching for the bottom of his shirt before it could even hit the ground. sungchan pulled at the collar of his shirt before pulling it off completely. you let out another heavy sigh at his toned body. 

you tried to block out the images of him flaunting his body around onstage just to hear the shrill cries of his audiences. none of them had the luxury to see sungchan like you did. you let your nails graze up his abs, but before you could reach his chest sungchan clasped a single hand over both of your wrists. you winced from the pain and let out a tiny sound from the shock. he was unfazed ass he kept both of your hands restricted to once side of your body. 

sungchan didn’t respond to your furrowed eyebrows or your pouting lips. he only continued staring at you as his other hand creeped up your leg. you stopped trying to fight against his grip and spread your legs further when he made it to your underwear. he watched your eyebrows furrow even more as you subconsciously brought your lip between your teeth. he could tell you wanted him to draw out the pleasure, to tease you and maybe eat you out like he always used to. but sungchan was slowly getting used to treating you the way you deserved, even while giving you what you wanted. so instead of drawing shapes on your thigh or getting down on his knees he pushed past your underwear and stuck two fingers into your clenching hole. the sudden intrusion made you mewl and arch your back further. you felt sungchan stiffen from your abrupt and loud sound.

“be quiet.” he said sternly. 

he pushed out an okay by plunging a third finger into your pussy. sungchan crooked his fingers and hit that spot you had been trying to reach for years. you had to bite your lip to keep quiet, the only chance you got to make a sound was when you leaned your head into sungchan’s chest. you let tiny sounds out against his skin, drowned out by the lewd sound of sungchan’s fingers interacting with your slick. when he picked up the pace the sound only got louder. you had to grip the edges of the surface you sat on to offset the sounds you so badly wanted to make.

“such a mess already,” sungchan’s hand tightened around your wrists as he focused bending his fingers inside of you. “how long were you waiting for this?” he asked sarcastically.

“so long.” you whined against his chest.

you were pathetically squirming from the pleasure as you continued to take it. you couldn’t bring yourself from sungchan’s chest to look him in the eyes, you were nowhere near strong enough. you could only press your face deeper into his solid chest as drool slipped past your lips.

“you gonna cum?” sungchan asked.

when you felt yourself hurtling towards an orgasm you started shaking your head against his chest quickly. sungchan first thought you were asking for more and started using the bottom of his palm to rub into your clit. he realized quickly that was too much, and you started pushing away from his hand by scooting backwards.

“what’s wrong?” sungchan asked.

his eyebrows were knitted in confusion as you weakly brought your head up from his chest. you sniffled and fought against his grip on you again. sungchan let you go as you tried composing yourself. he watched your shaky hands reach behind your back to pull the zipper of your dress down. you looked behind sungchan and he followed your gaze to his neatly made bed. 

when he looked back at you you had the top half of your dress pulled down and your bra laying crumpled next to you. you got down from your temporary perch and let your dress fall to your feet. left in just your underwear and all of your glory you looked up to him.

“i need everything.” 

sungchan wasted no time heeding your request. you were off the ground again in seconds, only this time you were thrown on the bed. you were a rag doll on top of the bed for a moment, your limbs still loose from the relief sungchan was giving you moments prior. 

you only sat up slightly as sungchan stalked towards you, hands on the belt of his jeans as he stared you up and down. he pulled off his pants first, and you could hear the clatter of his belt buckle as he lifted his feet from the denim. he walked to the edge of the bed, looking down at your body already becoming littered with incoming bruises. how you managed to look like the victim was equal parts enticing and maddening. sungchan remembered the way the cab driver looked at you, silently asking if you were alright. sungchan quelled his frustrations by palming the back of your head and pushing your face towards his clothed dick. he was disgusted that you didn’t resist, in fact you only pressed your face further into the fabric of sungchans’ boxers. he felt his hair stand on end when he you took in a deep breath and close your eyes contently. he didn’t bother hiding his disgust when you opened your eyes to look at him.

“this is everything?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

you nodded quickly, moving towards the center of the bed to situate yourself on the white sheets. once you found your spot you slowly shimmied out of your panties while you looked to sungchan’s boxers expectantly.

slowly his hands went underneath the waistband of his pants and started working them down. he was slow, following down his small happy trail before stopping completely. this seemed to be the only torturing you responded to, because a whiny noise slipped past your swollen lips once sungchan stopped. you realized you made a mistake and bit your lip immediately afterwards, trying to find a calm expression that matched his. 

sungchan continued dragging his boxers down, letting his dick catch on the elastic of the waistband so it bobbed after being freed. his dick was heavy and already leaking with precum. sungchan felt himself harden and twitch at your burning stare.

“flip over.” sungchan put his knee on the bed. “on your stomach.”

still looking at his dick you laid down and got on your stomach in one smooth motion. you perked your ass as far as it would go when you felt sungchan’s body weight cause a dip in the bed on both sides of your legs. he propped himself up by his hands on either side of your shoulder and you felt his heavy dick rest on the swell of your ass. you gasped from the feeling and found a deeper arch in attempt to chase the warmth. sungchan moved a hand to your ass to get you in place, and you sighed once before following the order of his hand.

you felt the same hand go to grab the base of his dick and slapped it on the same place his hand was previously. you pressed your face into the mattress, trying to calm your heart that was thudding in your chest. sungchan guided his dick lower and lower, letting his tip prod your entrance. you drew in a breath, feeling like you might suffocate yourself against the duvet of sungchan’s hotel bed. you heard a light you leave his lips, cut off by a sudden intake of breath. your heart swelled at the thought of sungchans’ instinct of wanting to check up on you, and it erupted across your body when he slid in all the way.

you lifted your head from the mattress, a pathetic sound caused by the stretch and pleasure leaving your lips. you rocked back against sungchan when he pulled out, messing up his rhythm from your impatience. he left out a curse as he pushed your body into the mattress. one of your hands found sungchan’s wrist as he lowered his body down to yours. you felt the air get pushed out of you for a moment while sungchan experimented with how much of his body weight to lean on you. you wanted him to give you all of it, you wanted to feel the crush and the air get squeezed out of your lungs because of him. you decided you asked for enough when you felt sungchan deep in your stomach again.

“this is everything, right?” sungchan asked, punctuating each word with a thrust. 

“right.” you said while nodding.

you pressed the side of your face into the pillow to try and see him. the momentum fucked your body further into the mattress, and you dug your nails into sungchan’s wrist that you held onto for stability. when sungchan finally registered the pain he pulled wrist from your grasp. when you pathetically searched for something to grab sungchan clasped his hand it over the back of yours. his hold was bone crushing. your fingers were poking out straight between the gaps in his fist.

“don’t touch me.” sungchan pressed his body closer to yours, the sweat keeping his chest glued to your back. “just cum for me already.” he said.

anytime you tried to speak, sungchan would grind his hips against your ass. the pressure of his bodyweight was almost suffocating, and each thrust pushed out a gasp of breath from you. sungchan settled even further into you, propping his other arm on his elbow next to your body. 

first it was only you slightly moving your face towards his hand. you told yourself you were trying to find a better angle underneath sungchan’s thrusts and to get a better view of him. you tried to follow sungchan’s order of not touching him, you really did—but seeing his fist press in the mattress with his veins  bulging from the exertion right next to your face made you reach out to him. you kissed the butt of his palm first, and waited for his reaction. sungchan faltered for a moment, his hips pulling away from you completely. you followed his hips and whined, pulsing around the part of his dick that stayed inside of you.

sungchan pushed your body back down to the mattress with a hard thrust. his skin slapped against yours and you cried out. you were forced to moan and babble around his fingers as he pushed two of his digits in past your parted lips. sungchan rested his face against the back of your head, letting his heavy pants out against your hair and scalp. your hand that wasn’t being held by his fisted the sheets. after sungchan pulled away from your head you could hear him above you laugh.

“you look so pathetic right now.” he sneered.

you continued to suck on his fingers by hallowing your cheeks and moaning. he pressed his fingers deeper into your mouth almost making you gag.

“following me across the world just to get fucked is a new low.” sungchan’s clear words devolved into grunts as he started thrusting into you at a faster pace.

your whole body reacted to sungchan’s jabs. your walls started erratically seizing around his dick and your hand began clawing at the sheets to ground yourself. you even tried clenching your fist that sungchan still held onto. you felt your whole body getting higher and higher, but your peak seemed just out of reach. you needed more, you were missing the final piece to having everything. 

you couldn’t put it into words but only through body language. when you felt sungchan looking down at you and his quick grunts fanned your check you started weakly preening the side of your face to his lips.

“please.” you whimpered around his fingers. 

you heard him let out a tiny moan above you when he realized what you were asking for. he covered it up with another taunting laugh. he ghosted his lips above the apples of your cheeks and pulled away just to hear you mewl again. your head fell back back down to the mattress. 

as the last bit of strength left your body, sungchan’s power increased tenfold. when the last bit of your arch crumbled sungchan took it in stride, bending his legs so yours were pushed up further. 

the new angle made you cry out, and you lifted your front off the bed to press your back into sungchan’s chest. you felt his smirk against your neck before he pressed his lips to your clammy skin. his ruts against you were becoming sporadic, and from the tiny bit of affection you felt yourself coming undone. sungchan trailed sloppy kisses from your neck to your cheek, occasionally sucking on your skin and leaving a trail of spit behind. you started pushing your hips back and sucking harder on sungchan’s fingers. in the last moment he pulled them from your mouth and replaced it with his lips. you had to crane your neck uncomfortably and sungchan had to sacrifice fucking into you the way he wanted but it was the last thing you needed. 

your body ascended and you started shaking underneath sungchan, he pushed into you one last time before a shudder took over his full body and he let out a shaky moan into your mouth. you were whining in between his kisses, barely able to reciprocate as he kept going. 

for a moment you had everything. you were sated and content, you finally felt full and warm after your everlasting hunger. but as you were basking in the glory sungchan abruptly let go of your hand and stopped your jerking hips. he took away the pleasure, and ignored your whine from lose of contact. sungchan’s breath was labored but he still pulled out of you, his dick softening after his orgasm. you wanted him to stay inside like he used to before, and caress your cheeks while telling you how good you felt. you had none of that, sungchan separated his hot body from yours and got up from the bed completely. 

you were left in the crater on the mattress while sungchan took groggy steps towards the bathroom.

when the water started running, you realized how nasty you felt. you were still sweaty, your hair felt out of place and everything was sticky. warmth spilled out from between your thighs and you felt the sungchan’s spit dry on your skin. you waited there still, trying to will your worked limbs to move.

sungchan came from the bathroom with a towel around his waist. he had a toothbrush in his mouth and worked vigorously in between him grabbing your clothes and throwing them next to your body. you were cold at the lack of tenderness in his movements. his refusal to look at you made you silent and you finally moved from your place on the mattress to reach for your dress.

sungchan watched you quietly put your clothes back on from his spot beside the bed. he said nothing when you needed him to the most. he didn’t apologize for breaking up with you, he didn’t thank you for nurturing his career, he didn’t ask you to stay. he only looked at you, impatience coming off of him in waves. when you took too long he tapped on his phone to wake it up.

“your cab is waiting outside.” he said evenly.

now it was you who refused to look at sungchan. you started getting dressed faster and climbed off the bed, ignoring the stiffness in your joints. you walked to your coat and put it on quickly, adjusting the way it laid on your body but lifting your shoulders. when you felt sungchan still staring you quickly stuffed your bra and underwear into the pockets and started making your way towards the door. 

for the second time that night, sungchan followed closely behind you until you made it to the door. he reached his arm behind you, pulling the door open. 

the hallway in front of you was cold and the night waiting for you outside seemed even colder. you hesitated in the entryway of sungchan’s hotel room, praying that he would change his mind and let you back in. his hand on the small of your back didn’t comfort you as he slowly pushed you further out the door.

when in the hallway, you turned around to look back at him. you had to blink to stop the tears from bracketing your vision, but seeing sungchan’s stoic expression caused a single tear to flow freely. 

he reached his hand forward, and you thought for a moment sungchan would comfort you. you thought about him squeezing your hand or rubbing the raw skin of your wrist. he only reached forward to the pocket of your jacket and fished around until he felt your balled up underwear. your eyes widened but sungchan still remained stoic as he fisted the fabric and pulled it from your pocket. he leaned on the door and lowered his head until he was eye level with you.

“you better pray i never see you again.” 

sungchan slammed the door shut so hard that the momentum made you lean your body back. 

you walked down the hallway in shock. your feet dragged behind you, the threat in sungchan’s words rung in your ear. you stared at the pattern of the carpet underneath your feet as you walked towards the elevator. you felt the empty pit in your stomach open up again. in the reflection of the elevators metal doors you watched an uncontrollable smile spread across your face.

[nhaaauyen]

⁺˚⋆｡°✩ FLOATING ✩°｡⋆˚⁺

and baby i know you // sugar sweet like you always do

modern restaurant sev x reader au!: after your kiss on the beach, you return to work unsure of what it means now for the two of you. luckily, sevika answers that for you.

series masterpost: is it casual now? wc: 2.1k author's note: hi i could not sleep so i did the reasonable thing and wrote a sevika fic at 4am LMAOO i also wanted to try the headcannon format but I have no idea if I did it right smh </3 btw this is a sequel to is it casual now?and i wont be posting until exams are done (booo) but I hope you guys enjoy!!

♡ the beach kiss with sevika was everything - it was passionate and perfect in so many indescribable ways. but after you both parted ways, you realized you left without actually discussing your feelings - which by the way, was such a lesbian thing to do.

♡ now you're home, sprawled across your bed, staring at your phone like you could will it to buzz with a text from sevika. but the screen remains stubbornly blank. after what feels like an eternity of hopeful glancing, you finally toss it into a drawer. out of sight, out of mind. 

♡ but when you try to go about your nightly routine, your mind keeps drifting back to sevika. brushing your teeth, you remember what her lips taste like, like weed and sour candy. changing into pajamas? you’re wondering what she wears to bed instead.

♡ your resolve finally crumbles and you retrieve the phone, fingers trembling slightly as you unlock it. nothing. you wait a beat, then refresh again because maybe the universe is just running a little slow tonight. but it was, in fact not.

♡ in a moment of dramatic self-preservation, you shut off the phone completely. if you can't see the lack of messages, they can't hurt you, right?

♡ you huff in annoyance, and maybe you’re still a bit high, but it hurts... real bad.  you throw the covers on and shut your eyes, wishing for the ache in your chest to go away because it was one kiss - one magical kiss where sevika looked at you like you held the mysteries of the world and only she could uncover them. fuck, you had it bad.

♡ morning comes, and you're spectacularly late. why? because high-you thought turning off your only alarm was a genius move. clothes fly on haphazardly, hair gets half brushed, and you bathe in perfume to mask yesterday's lingering weed scent.

♡ you burst into the restaurant 20 minutes late, bracing for your head server's wrath. when you walk in, all eyes are on you and your ears turn red, from both the embarrassment of being late and the incident with your head server the day before.  

♡ beelining for the back to clock in, you instead collide with someone at the door. and of course out of everyone it could be, it's her. sevika, the one person you were hoping not to run into yet.

♡ "pagli?" the nickname stops you in your tracks. you look up, meeting that intense gaze that sends your mind reeling back to yesterday's kiss. suddenly, you're drowning in butterflies and the memory of how she looked at you like you were made of stardust.  sevika looked ridiculously good. she was wearing just her usual uniform with brown leather suspenders and a white collared shirt, but her muscles were stretched under the fabric and you’re starting to wonder how you survived working with her in the past few months.

♡ you start to stammer out an excuse, but sevika's already grabbing your arm, pulling you into the manager's office.  "your shirt has a bit of something," she says as she hands you a clean white shirt.  you look down to find a toothpaste stain, because of course.

♡ the awkwardness is palpable as you take the shirt, mumbling thanks while steadfastly avoiding eye contact. sevika seems to suddenly remember the concept of privacy and excuses herself. post-shirt-change, you brave the floor. your head server makes only one snarky comment about your tardiness. in your book, that's a win.

♡ the rest of your shift is normal. well, "normal" if you don't count your newfound spidey sense, or more accurately sevika-sense. it's like your body's attuned to her presence - you know when she's at the bar, talking to customers, probably when she blinks too.

♡ you catch her stealing glances at you across the room, and suddenly remembering drink orders becomes impossible. you don’t know how many tips you must’ve lost today from having to repeat orders.

♡ the kitchen is its usual chaos and when sevika squeezes in to help, the world narrows to the points where she touches. her hand on the small of your back as she passes, the brush of fingers as she takes plates from you - the feeling lingers even as you leave the kitchen.

♡ you're hyper-aware of every little interaction with sevika. but was it all in your head? are you reading too much into things? the uncertainty is maddening.

♡ the dining room is nearly empty as you put away the last of the chairs. a glance at the clock shows it's almost 11 pm.  suddenly, you realize how eerily quiet the restaurant is. where is everyone? 

♡ your question is answered by the soft strains of jazz floating through the air. huh. since when did the restaurant play music this late? assuming it's a speaker malfunction, you head to the kitchen to find sevika. when you find her, she’s surrounded by an array of ingredients on the kitchen counter.

♡ "where is everyone?" you ask, confused.

♡ "they left early. you didn't respond when someone asked if you were going out." mentally, you facepalm. of course you were spacing out earlier, definitely not to thoughts about a certain manager. you gesture to the ingredients. "what's all this?"

♡ "well," sevika says, "are you hungry?"  your stomach growls in response. traitor. "looks like i'm making a meal for two, then," she remarks with a sly smile.

♡ "wait, why are you still here?" you question.  "paperwork," she replies with a slight shrug. "can't leave yet." there's a pause, a moment of hesitation. "you can go if you want, though."

♡ you catch the hint of uncertainty in her voice. "well i have to stay to see if our manager can actually cook," you tease. sevika scoffs, "oh, i can cook. be prepared to have your taste buds forever changed."

♡ you laugh, moving closer. "can i help?" you settle next to her behind the counter. "promise you won't cut yourself? i can't afford any workplace injuries." she jokes.

♡ you roll your eyes dramatically. "i'm not that bad of a cook, you know."

♡ "we'll see about that," sevika chuckles, handing you a knife. as you start chopping vegetables, your arms occasionally brush against each other. the kitchen suddenly feels very warm, and it's not from the stove.

♡ "you eat meat?" sevika asks, eyebrow raised.

♡ "yeah, why?"

♡ she grins. "good. i'm making lamb curry." 

♡"i've never had that before." you admit. "never?" sevika looks shocked. "it's delicious." 

♡ you shrug, a bit embarrassed. "sorry, i don't usually eat what we serve to customers." sevika pauses, studying you for a moment. then her expression softens. "this is actually a recipe my dad passed down. the restaurant just got a shipment of curry leaves and peppers for next week's menu."

♡ "oh? will i be seeing this on the menu soon?" you ask, intrigued. she smirks, "i don't know. will my first customer like it?"

♡ the look she gives you makes you fumble with the knife. maybe you are that bad of a cook after all. or maybe it's just the effect she has on you. you're stirring the curry when sevika leans in. "give me a taste."

♡ you bring the spoon to her lips, but in your nervousness, you bump her nose instead. "no way you did that," she says in disbelief.  “that was definitely done on purpose.”

♡ "i did not!" you refute. "oh yeah?" she nudges the spoon, leaving a streak of curry across your cheek.

♡ "sevika!" you gasp, feigning outrage. she throws her head back, laughing. the sound makes your heart skip.

♡ "you suck," you mutter, fighting a smile. "i'm sorry, okay? come here." she grabs a rag, cupping your face gently as she wipes away the curry. your hand goes limp, spoon forgotten as you stare into each other's eyes. her hand is so gentle against your skin, the rag somehow feeling rougher than she does.

♡ the oven timer abruptly blares, shattering the moment. you both jump back, a bit flustered. when it's nearly ready, sevika asks you to set the table outside while she finishes up.

♡ "just sit down," she insists when you offer to help bring things out. she emerges with two steaming plates and a bottle of wine.  as you take in the ambiance - the soft lighting, the music, the intimate table setting - it hits you. this feels like a date. but you quickly push the thought away. you haven't even talked about what that moment on the beach meant yet.

♡ sevika's watching you expectantly as you take your first bite. the flavors explode on your tongue. "this is amazing," you say, eyes wide. "consider my taste buds changed forever."

♡ the smile she gives you in response is brighter than any star you've ever seen. you continue eating, stealing glances at each other over your wine glasses, and you have no idea how to stop the feeling like you’re floating right now. as you eat, the conversation flows easily. "you know, there used to be a dance floor here. silco had a band playing next to the bar."

♡ "what happened to it?" you ask. she shrugs. "people stopped using it. probably lost the confidence to dance in public." you chew thoughtfully, then suddenly stand up. "come on, let's dance."

♡ "what?" sevika looks at you like you've grown a second head.

♡ "there's music, good wine, and we're technically on an ex-dance floor," you argue, grinning. "it would be a crime if we don't dance."

♡ she hesitates. "i don't know how to dance."

♡ "neither do i," you admit, offering your hand. it's almost like an admission of something else - that you don't know how to navigate this new territory with sevika either.

♡ reluctantly, she takes your hand and stands. you pull her close, placing one hand on her waist as she rests hers on your shoulder. your first few steps are more stumble than dance. sevika chuckles, "i get why we took away the dance floor now."

♡ you shake your head, laughing. "we're god awful at this."

♡ "i know, but..." she trails off, her eyes meeting yours.

♡ "but what?" you ask, heart racing. she takes a deep breath. "but at least i get to hold you." your heart skips a beat. you look up from where your head was resting on her chest, only to find her already gazing at you with that same inscrutable look from the beach.

♡ it was like a magnetic force was pulling you together. suddenly, her lips are on yours, your hand tangled in her hair. she leans you back slightly, deepening the kiss in a move more graceful than any dance step you've attempted tonight.

♡ sevika’s lips are soft against yours, and you can taste the wine she drank from before on them.  as you part, she lets out a satisfied hum that vibrates through her chest and into yours. you keep your bodies close, foreheads touching, sharing the same breath.

♡ "was there any actual paperwork to do?" you whisper.

♡ she has a sheepish smile. "you caught me." 

♡ "the amount of kissing we did compare to work is starting to make sense now.” you quipped, feeling her shoulders rise and fall with her laughter. wrapped in her arms and still high from the kiss before, you find the courage to voice what's been on your mind. "i really, really like you." 

♡ sevika doesn’t respond with words but instead, with another kiss. when she pulls back, her eyes are twinkling. "dido?"

♡ you groan. "oh. my. god." her laughter fills the room, rich and genuine. "i really, really like you too," she enunciates clearly, her tone teasing. "better?"

♡ "way better," you affirm, pressing your head into her chest just like you did that first time by her car. but this time, it's different. where there was once uncertainty about your future with sevika, now there's a sense of rightness, of belonging.

♡ as you sway together in the dim light of the restaurant, the soft jazz still playing in the background, you notice how perfectly you fit together.  you lift your head, meeting her gaze. the look in her eyes - tender and with a hint of wonder - makes your heart swell. 

♡ "so," you murmur, "what's for dessert?"

♡ sevika answers with a grin that is wide and full of affection. "i thought we were already having it."

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 11

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader warnings: language, alcohol, smut, dirty talk. okay y'all apologies I thought life was going upwards and it was going to be super easy to power through a ton of writing but when life throws one bad thing at you beware there will likely be two more coming with it. UGH. I'm going to try to focus on this series for the rest of the week, we'll see how that goes! Thank y'all for sticking around and being wonderful!

Emily was a firm believer in a few things, and putting in over a hundred percent effort when the world was aligning you with a crap day was one of them. If she came to work with a hangover, she worked hard and did her job even better, knowing it was self inflicted and her own fault. On days when she was feeling more run down, exhausted or if she was starting to get sick, she put more effort in. Spent a little bit more time on hair and make up, made sure to wear the right kind of clothes. As much as it would be nice to wear something cozy and lean into the exhaustion, it always made her feel worse. The ‘you look tired’ comments, her complaining about a headache or stuffy nose digging her further into the pity party hole. If she looked her best, she felt better about it, the compliments during the day would help boost her mood and by the time she was clocking out she was re energized.

It was partially that, and her wanting to keep up with the fiery spark that had been launched the previous weekend that led to her decision. Sharing Jackie with you, watching the pleasure you got out of giving another woman pleasure and in a situation where she could actually watch rather than be focused on trying to remember how to breathe. It was utterly enthralling and invigorating and she was more than ready to fully embrace that level of spiciness on a more regular basis. After all, that’s what this type of situation was for, you’d said it yourself, exploration and discovering new things was the highlight of having this dynamic.

So when Emily got dressed that evening, she opted for a more fitted pant suit, leaving just enough to imagination and then reached to the back of her closet. She’d worn the red bodice top a handful of times over the years and it was a trusted favourite, fitting her like a glove, semi sheer lace between the boning, and intricate patterns over her chest with the perfect amount of cleavage pushed up. Even slightly shielded by her blazer it was enough to make anyone take a second glance and the smirk was present on her lips when you all about lost your breath when you laid eyes on her that night, stumbling over your words as you tried to limit the amount of compliments you gave her before you were even seated.

Emily had chosen to mix things up a little bit tonight, enjoy some new scenery outside of the Waldorf, opting to have dinner around the corner at Mastro’s Steakhouse instead. In between moments of conversation and trying not to ogle Emily you had managed to order starter cocktails and get some recommendations from your server before finally willing yourself to look through the menu.

“How do they expect me to choose between the filet and the lamb?” You muttered, chewing on your lip as you read through the enticing descriptions.

“Just get both.” Emily suggested with a shrug and you glanced up to her with a crinkled brow.

“That’s so much food! Not to mention the cost.”

“Cost isn’t a concern.” She replied, a grin on her lips, “eat a bit of each and take the rest to go, quality leftovers.”

Your gaze drifted off to a nearby table, eyeing their plates while you thought it over, “they would be far superior to the leftover pizza in my fridge….”

“Then it’s settled.”

You let out a small breath, a smile creeping onto your cheeks, “do you know what you’re getting?”

“I was leaning toward the lobster tail.” She glanced over at you, “sides?”

“Mac and cheese or scalloped potatoes?”

“Both.”

“Don’t we need a vegetable in there?”

“Last time I checked potato was a vegetable.” Emily replied with a grin and you laughed before agreeing with her.

Meals were ordered and delivered before you knew it, too full from the rich foods you both opted out of dessert, only to be convinced by the server to take some to go. You took your time to finish your cocktails, Emily swiping the bill before you even had a chance to try and look at it. You said a quiet thank you to her, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek as you gathered your take out bags and made your way out of the restaurant. It was still warm enough outside that you hadn’t bothered with a jacket, summer still clinging to the city, the heat lingering in the night air when you stepped out into it.

Instinctively, your arm slid into Emily’s, her hand finding yours, intertwining your fingers as you made your way through the streets. She let out a soft hum, eyes flickering up to the skyline and part of her wished you could see more stars inside the city, she was lost in her thoughts a moment later, only faintly aware of your hand in hers as you guided her. If it wasn’t for the physical connection and sudden jolt when you stopped in your steps she easily would have walked into the road without looking.

“Hey…” you squeezed at her hand gently, “you alright tonight? You’ve been pretty quiet, kinda off…”

“Yeah.” Emily sighed softly, giving you a small smile as she shook out of it, “I’m just tired and it’s been a pretty long week. I think all this extra running around the city is taking it out of me a bit more than usual.” She didn’t really want to admit being worn down, she certainly hadn’t planned on it but she guessed her walls had slipped down more than she’d meant for them to and you picked up on it before she even realized.

You let out a small laugh, “you know the entire reason we went the direction we did with our agreement was to not have any extra stress or exhaustion, right? We didn’t want to make your to do list any longer or more tedious than it already was. These dates don’t have to be weekly either, remember, I’m not dependant on the money. If you ever want to cancel or skip a week or two I get it, you can stay home and veg out, taking time for yourself and resting is important.”

“I know,” she started, feeling a warmth moving through her knowing that you wanted to make sure she was taking care of herself, even if she wasn’t doing it on her own, “and it’s not just that, work exhaustion is different, I figured I still had enough energy leftover for dinner and I would hate to cancel.”

“Just know you’re allowed to, even last minute. If I already happen to be here I’ll order some room service on your account and call it a night.” You replied with a slight tease, nudging at her side when the light changed so you could cross the street.

“I was looking forward to it, honestly and I do really enjoy spending time with you. It’s such a huge relief to hang out with a fresh face, someone who isn’t part of my team yet still understands the politics of it all.” She let out a breath, nearly muttering the last part to herself, “I guess I kind of just miss my bed…”

You chuckled, “you’re telling me your bed is comfier than the Waldorf? What else have you been hiding from me Agent Prentiss?” You prodded at her side and she huffed, rolling her eyes, “I’m kidding. I get it. Especially with your job, you’re off travelling all week and when you finally do get home you just want to be surrounded by your own things. There’s a comfort and relief about being in your own home and safe space and there’s nothing else like it.”

Emily hummed in recognition, not entirely sure where to go from there or if the conversation was done entirely. She supposed it was, you’d simply asked if she was alright and she thought she’d given an adequate answer, though as you moved down the sidewalk it appeared it only sparked more questions in her brain.

“Can I ask something?”

“Of course.” You glanced to her, a welcoming smile on your face.

“Aside from like, the original safety thing, not wanting to let a near stranger know where you live… why hotels?” She watched for a moment as your head titled, your eyes narrowing as you thought and you shrugged.

“A lot of sugar….” You struggled to find the right phrase, “pairings have outside relationships, either one of them or both. A lot are married, open or not sometimes you never really know.”

“So it’s about the secrecy?”

“To a point.” You nodded, “most of the time having a sugar baby is their way to have a little secret life, it’s fulfilling a fantasy that they wouldn’t be able to achieve in any other way. Living the high life, fancy hotels, expensive dinners, lavish vacations, yacht parties, flying first class or private, it’s all about showing off. Hence why a lot of the babies embrace the look and personality of a hot young bimbo, that’s what the Wall Street guys want to show off to their so-called friends while railing lines of coke with a spare hundred dollar bill.”

“So-called friends?” She asked with a grin and you laughed.

“The ones who don’t care that you’re dangling along some barely self respecting girl to all the weekend parties when your wife is at home with the kids going to the country club with the friends of yours that would rat you out.”

“Ah.” She grimaced and you laughed again.

“They’re not all like that though, some of them just want to experience a little thrill, have a little fun on the weekends. They use hotels cause they’re attempting to create the life they wish they could live all the time; they’ve got a surplus of money because they live modestly otherwise. They might be living in a bare bones, affordable apartment where they cook the same dinner every night before repeating the mundane task of putting on an ill fitted suit and crunching numbers all day. They don’t want their sugar babies to see that because it kills the vibe, shatters the illusion if you will. It’s like.. the separation of fantasy and reality, ya know?”

“Makes sense.” She nodded, letting out a soft sigh as she stalled when you came to the entrance of the hotel. “Feel.. completely free to say no to this, because I know it might be awkward or off putting, but is there any chance you’d be comfortable just coming back to my place? Who cares about the fantasy?”

“You already mentioned waterfront views, I know your place has to be nice.” You teased and she nearly rolled her eyes, biting back a laugh.

“I’m just so sick of not sleeping in my bed right now and honestly,” her voice softened not wanting to be overheard, “lugging toys around the city has become a major pain in my ass. I almost grabbed the wrong go back for work this week and I don’t even want to think about what the ramifications of that would be.”

You let out a laugh, a smile taking over your cheeks as you shook your head at her before leaning in to peck her cheek, “I’m totally fine with that.”

Emily let out a breath she wasn’t aware she had been holding, looking up to you with an almost shy smile, “thanks. Did you want to leave your car here or follow me?”

“I actually took an Uber.”

“Perfect.” Squeezing at your hand softly she redirected the two of you away from the pedestrian entrance to the Waldorf, heading in the direction of the valet instead.

*

Emily unlocked the door to her apartment, guiding you into the entry way and telling you to make yourself comfortable while she locked the door behind herself. The small entry hall lead into a nice kitchen, island facing the open living and dining room combo complete with gorgeous hard wood flooring and stunning floor to ceiling windows.

You stepped out of your shoes, leaving them on the mat at the end of the short hallway, moving through the space as you admired it. There were a handful of case files on the dining table, Emily’s glasses sitting beside them, a blanket strewn over the back of the couch and multiple mugs scattered around the coffee table. Your hand absentmindedly trailed over the back of one of the living room chairs as the view out the windows truly caught your attention. It looked like there was a wraparound balcony, the perfect place to admire the skyline over the river and you could only imagine how stunning the sunsets must be.

Behind you, Emily had tucked the leftovers in the fridge, pulling down a couple of wine glasses after selecting a bottle from the rack. She was about to ask if you were okay with red or if you wanted something else when she glanced over her shoulder, eyes catching you peering out the windows. Something about the way the moonlight cast over your skin, catching the shiny decals in your dress made her completely forget the wine as she remembered her original intentions for tonight. The bottle left abandoned on the counter, she slipped her blazer off, draping it over the back of a chair, fully revealing the bodice as she padded through the room, approaching your back. A hand gently landed on your waist as the other brushed your hair off the back of your neck before Emily’s lips hit the tender skin.

“You like the view?” She murmured, smiling at the way your head easily lolled to the side to give her more access.

“It’s gorgeous.”

Her lips met your skin again, leaving a trail of kisses up it until she nipped at your earlobe, her hands squeezing around your waist. You relaxed into her, a small puff of breath leaving your lips when her teeth sunk into your neck.

“You know, for someone who wanted to skip the hotel, you certainly are eager to get to the bedroom…”

She chuckled against your skin, leaving kisses across the column of your neck and back of your shoulders in between her words when she spoke again.

“That was the plan…show off the place… get you comfortable… have a glass of wine or two… relax…” her teeth pulled at your earlobe again, “but now?” She nudged her nose into your cheek, turning your face back to the windows and with the low light from over the stove there was a faint reflection of both of you in the glass. “Seeing you in front of these windows… I kind of want to fuck you up against them. Let the whole city see how gorgeous you are when you come.”

You let out a quiet moan as her lips pressed into the crook of your neck, her fingers slipping under the straps of your dress, letting them fall over your shoulders. She grabbed your waist again, pulling you tightly flush to her and ground her hips into your ass. Your breath caught in your throat, a surprised gasp escaping your lips as your eyes flew open again, catching her gaze in the window.

“Have you been strapped this whole time?”

She kissed the back of your shoulder, lips twitching up into a grin, “I like to be prepared.” Emily’s finger curled under your chin, turning your face so she could press a kiss to your lips before guiding you to turn around fully to face her. Her hands found the hem of your dress, toying with it, “feel like we should get rid of this.” In one swift movement it was off over your head, dropped to the ground completely forgotten, leaving you in just a pair of barely there panties. “Now… how about you get on your knees for me, hmm?”

Emily reached behind her, grabbing a cushion from the couch to drop at her feet as you did as you were told, bracing your knees on the pillow as you gazed back up to her. Her fingers trailed down your face, cupping your cheek softly as her thumb traced the outline of your lips and you couldn’t help but part them. Her thumb easily slid into your mouth and you were quick to wrap your lips around it, sucking it deeper into your mouth.

“Good girl.” She praised, pulling it out, watching the way your eager eyes followed her hands to her belt, “I want you to touch yourself, get that pussy nice and wet for me while you suck my cock, alright?”

“Yes.” You nodded, bracing up on your knees while she undid her pants, opening them far enough to pull out the toy, stroking it a few times before guiding the tip of it toward your mouth.

Your lips wrapped around the head of her cock, slowly sinking down onto it until it had completely disappeared into your mouth. Your tongue swiveled around it, coating it with your saliva as you slowly pulled off of it, letting it pop out of your mouth and you glanced upwards to catch Emily’s eye. Tongue stuck out you licked her from base to tip, your hand wrapping around it, stroking it to smear the spit around, making sure it was covered in wetness. Your other hand came to rest on her thigh, creeping upwards and she tsk’d at you, her hand wrapping around your wrist.

“What did I say, princess?”

Your hand retreated back to your own body, sinking down it and slipping into your underwear, the tip of Emily’s cock resting on your stuck out tongue as you did so. When your fingers hit your clit you slowly began rubbing at it, a small moan leaving your lips as you eyes fluttered shut.

“That’s it.” She cooed, “that’s my good girl.”

Her hand wrapped around the base of the toy, pushing it deeper into your mouth while your lips wrapped around it again. Your body began rocking in tandem to the pace of her hips, grinding down onto your hand as you continued to sink her cock into the back of your throat. She could hear your whimpers and whines getting louder and more frequent, muffled by the toy in your mouth as you continued to play with your clit. Driving her cock deep into your mouth, she let out a soft groan as the base of the toy pressed against her, your breath hot on her skin.

“You take me so well.” She praised, her hand cupping the side of your face, thumb stroking at your cheek as you let her cock drop from your mouth with a gasp. Your body shuddered, thighs squeezing together as you let out a whimper and she chuckled. “I know princess, it’s hard to multitask, isn’t it?”

“Fuck…” you muttered, leaning toward her again but her finger tapped your chin, signalling to shut your mouth.

“How wet is that little pussy of yours? Let me see.”

You slid your fingertips through your folds, gathering up your juices before pulling your hand out of your panties and lifting it up. Emily’s hand wrapped around your wrist, examining the way your fingers glistened in the moonlight before tugging your arm gently and you nearly scrambled to your feet. Your eyes widened when her lips wrapped around your fingers, a moan coming from her throat as her eyes shut for a moment.

“Always so sweet.”

“Thank you.” You murmured, your chest practically heaving in anticipation, watching as a dark gleam took over Emily’s eyes.

“Turn around,” she twirled her fingers and you did as she asked, “brace yourself on the glass.”

Taking a couple of steps forward your hands met the cool glass, a shiver running through your body as you looked out over the city. Emily’s fingers tugged your thong down your legs and as you kicked it off you couldn’t help but shiver again, feeling entirely exposed. You knew no one could see you at this height, but the thrill of being completely bare pressed up against the glass while Emily was still dressed sent a thrill through you, your cunt pulsing already.

Behind you, Emily crouched down, her hands sliding up the back of your thighs, spreading your legs, thumbs sliding up your pussy, smearing your juices. She let out an appreciative hum before leaning in, tongue lapping through you and you gasped. Her mouth wrapped around you, sucking your juices, getting a better taste of you before standing upright again, an arm wrapping around your waist.

“You’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs.” Her lips met the crook of your neck again, “you must really want to be stuffed with my cock, hm?”

“Oh god, please.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing you’re so good to me princess.” Her hand wrapped around her cock, spanking it against your cunt and you shivered in her arms.

“Please Emily…” you whined, “please fuck me.”

The head of her cock nudged at your pussy, a shuddering breath escaping from your throat as she teased you for only a second before plunging it into your cunt. She sunk in halfway before pulling out and sinking back in the rest of the way until her hips met your ass. One of her hands stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you steady while the other braced herself on your hip.

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded furiously as she picked up the pace, cock thrusting deeper into you with each push of her hips, “god.” Your hands scrunched against the glass, aching for something to grab onto, “so fucking deep.”

Emily gave you a particularly sharp thrust, the air in your lungs breaking free in a sudden gasp that morphed into a moan as she hit even deeper inside your pussy. Your body pressing up against the glass, a cold sensation taking over your chest, nipples rubbing the window as heat coiled within you, wafting off Emily’s body behind you. Your pussy was squeezing around her, you could feel and hear your wetness smearing around the toy, noises matching your moans as she fucked you. With each thrust your body rubbed against the glass, nipples hard swollen at the friction as your body ached for more.

“That’s my pretty girl.” Emily husked, her breath hot on your neck as her free hand slid up your back, tangling into your hair and she pulled.

You let out a gasp, nearly whining at the way her fingers tugged at your roots, pulling your head back so she could hear the way your panting was getting louder. Your back arched heavily, hips pushing back towards Emily with each powerful thrust of her hips, ass bouncing when she sank fully into you.

“F-fuuuck!” You cried out, pleasure shooting through your body, “m’close!”

“So fucking hot like this princess.” She groaned, the hand she had wrapped around your waist sunk south, playing with your throbbing clit and you whimpered, your hips faltering as she fucked into you faster. “Come for me, want you to squirt all over my cock.”

It was too hard to get anymore words out, strangled moans and whimpers were all that would leave your throat, your lips wide and eyes scrunched shut. Each time Emily’s cock dragged through you it hit your g-spot and when she pressed your clit harder, your body jumped, a loud cry leaving your lips as your orgasm burst through you. You could feel your pussy clenching down hard around the toy, a gush of juices bursting around it, dribbling down your thighs.

“That’s it baby…” Emily cooed, her hands running up and down your sides as her hips slowed, fucking you through your orgasm, “so fucking good for me.”

Your forehead gently dropped to the window, a small fog forming on the glass from your panting as you began to catch your breath, body still quaking with aftershocks. Emily slipped out of you and you could hear droplets of your juices hitting the floor, dripping from your cunt and her cock. A gentle kiss was placed between your shoulder blades, hands squeezing at your waist making sure you were okay before the warmth of her body briefly disappeared from behind you.

A dishtowel hit the floor and an arm wrapped around your waist, tugging you to collapse down on the couch. Somewhere in there a shirt was pulled over your head, a blanket pulled up around the two of you as Emily wrapped around your back. You could feel her now bare legs on yours, the lace of her bodice softly scratching at your skin.

Your eyes fluttered open, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you took in the skyscape outside the windows, glittering stars in the horizon. Emily’s arm loosely hung around your waist and your hand found hers, giving it a soft squeeze before tickling up and down her arm, tracing patterns on her soft skin. In return she left a kiss on the back of your shoulder. You weren’t sure just how long you stayed like that, watching the night sky before Emily finally spoke.

“Did you want to stay? Or should I call a car?”

You let out a happy sigh, rolling over to face her, “I’m pretty sure there’s dessert in those take out bags and I remember hearing something about a bottle of Bordeaux.”

She chuckled softly, happy to extend the night even further, “you’re not wrong on either of those accounts.”

__________________

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[jellieland]

A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

[aquaquadrant]

Title: flickering

Warnings: Hearing voices similar to intrusive thoughts (the voices are from sentient fire, not from the character’s own mind), pyromania, session 3 spoilers

~*~

Tango might be hearing things.

That is, beyond what the rest of his friends have already been joking about this entire session. The secret task bestowed upon him seemed like pure hilarity at first: pretend to have an imaginary friend. And he had to go all out, too, having imaginary conversations in the presence of other people. He wasn’t confident enough in his improv skills to pull it off without some kind of prop, though, so he’d assigned the role of imaginary friend to a torch in his inventory.

Torchy, a new best friend for the resident blaze hybrid on the server. Hilarious.

Except, as the hours went on… carrying Torchy around and randomly placing it down… hosting one-sided conversations with a piece of burning wood while his friends watched on with baffled amusement… it started to get a little less hilarious. Because he started to imagine that he could actually hear Torchy talking back to him.

Looks bad. Burn it. Kill him.

Just pleasant little things like that. It made for great conversation fodder; nothing turned heads on this server faster than a randomly overheard, “No, no, we can’t kill him!” And it was funny to carry on that kind of dialogue, chastising a flaming stick for its apparent bloodlust. The looks on his friends’ faces were priceless.

But at the end of the session, after Tango had been found out and failed his task, after everyone bid their farewells and went their separate ways to end the session… he hears it again; a flickering whisper of a voice in his ears.

Burn it.

It startles Tango so badly, his blaze rods ignite. “Aaagh- who? What?!” He spins around, flames spitting.

“Huh?” Skizz pokes his head up from behind their little clump of chests, his wing flared out in surprise. “What happened?”

Tango clutches his pounding heart. “Did you- did you say something, Skizz?” he asks breathlessly.

“What, just now? No?” Skizz frowns, then his eyes widen. “Oh, wait, I get it…” He chuckles. “Very funny dude, but uh, you can drop the ‘imaginary friend’ thing now.”

Burn him. Kill him.

There it is again. “No, I’m not…” Tango hesitates, glancing around warily. “You seriously can’t hear that?”

Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.

Now Skizz looks a little concerned, rising to his feet. “Uh- no? What?” He takes a few steps towards Tango, holding out a hand. “You okay, buddy?”

Tango rakes his claws through his hair. “Th- the whispering, the…” Swallowing, he creeps a bit closer to Skizz- and as he does so, he happens to move closer to a random torch. The voice gets louder.

Free us. Join us. Let it all burn.

There’s a chunk of solid ice in Tango’s stomach. “I think it’s coming from the torches,” he whispers.

Skizz stares at him for a moment before he sighs bemusedly, shaking his head. “Oh, brother. You’ve been talking to yourself all session, dude, I think you’re starting to hear things.” He claps a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Get some rest, buddy, and I’ll see you back here next week, alright?”

Skizz doesn’t hear it. Tango makes himself laugh. “Right, yeah. You’re right. See ya.”

With a parting smile, Skizz logs off.

Tango waits. Soon enough, the voice returns. The whispering is now a chant, a dull roar echoing in his skull.

He’s gone. Burn it. Burn it all. Sets us free, let us spread. Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.

Tango’s heart is in his throat. He can see it, in his mind’s eye; the soft pink cherry blossoms engulfed in flame, a ring of smoke outlining the entire island… his inner fire thrums with want, with need.

Yes, yes, burn it all…

The smell of burning snaps him out of his trance. His clawed fingertips are pinching a cherry blossom from a low-hanging branch, a trail of smoke rising between them. Wait, when did he walk over to the tree? Quickly plucking the flower, he incinerates it in his clenched fist, the flame extinguished as soon as it’d ignited.

And now he’s got a handful of ash. Great.

Okay, that’s it- he’s gotta get off this crazy server. It’s all these stupid tasks! They’re totally messing with his head. The secrecy, the deception, the mind games- he just needs a break. He needs to go back to something familiar, some place where things make sense.

Tapping his communicator, he brings up a portal.

Tango steps through it into Hermitcraft, into blue flames and his dungeon master’s robes. He blinks, acclimating to the change of light. He’s in the underbelly of Decked Out 2, of course- most of his time this week has been spent working on the redstone for level four. And over the months, he’s taken care to light everything up (because a single creeper in the skadoodler could derail his entire operation here) so there are torches everywhere…

And he hears nothing.

Just the idle sounds of the dungeon above him. The occasional warden sniff or ravager growl, bats squeaking in the dark. A slime slapping against stone somewhere in the distance. He can even hear the ambient flickering of the countless torches around him, but no freaky voices accompany it.

Tango exhales heavily. It was just the Secret Life server messing with his head, after all. Relieved, he ignites a rocket to take off, whirling through the air in the tight hair-pin turns required to escape from the dungeon’s inner workings. He swoops into his storage room and dives into the bubble-vator, arriving swiftly back in the citadel.

Hopping off the platform and into the air, Tango glides toward his private entrance to the lobby. He needs to go cover up the barrel at the start so he can make a couple changes to the dungeon. Nothing major, maybe just an extra warden or two. Ideas for names are already flashing through his mind. Debating whether to go intimidating or silly, he’s so deep in thought as he passes through the lobby that he almost doesn’t notice it at first. But as he walks past the soul flames, he hears it.

The flicker of a familiar voice- though more haunting, now, almost mournful- whispering in his ears.

Join us. Burn them. Eat them all.

~*~

[floef-likes-minecraft]

Work

“Good moring~!” Pearl started as she crossed the DHP parking lot with a pep in her step. It was a beautiful day, she had been up since the crack of dawn riding around the Server on Donkey (who is a mule) to deliver all sorts of letters and parcels. While Tango and Etho were still busy getting the entire mailing system online, she was happy to deliver more by hand.

Recently, the DHP had gotten an influx in mail having to be delivered to them and Pearl had made friends with the somewhat grumpy clerk that was sometimes maybe around. Today he was, for which Pearl was happy because that meant she could give him the mail personally instead of trying to get it into the building by shoving it under the broken door. The office was still under construction, so Pearl could forgive them for not even having a small mailbox.

“We’re closed,” Grian said. He was lounging outside, sitting against the white wall of the building and taking in the sun that crested just over the trees. He looked like he could use a bit more of that sun, but not everybody was as blessed as Pearl to have the best job in the world as a Postmaster and be outside all the time.

“Oh, I’m just delivering the mail,” Pearl answered cheerfully as she dug into her postbag. Everything was perfectly organized so it didn’t take long for her to grab out a stack with at least ten letters bundled together. “There you go, mister Grian, it’s always such a pleasure coming out here!”

When Grian didn’t take the bundle Pearl handed out to him, she just but the them carefully on the pavement next to him. He looked at them like they had said something foul to him, which he wouldn’t know until he actually opened them. Then, Grian looked up again to Pearl and a frown appeared on his face.

“Why are you still here?” he asked, rather rudely.

“It’s just that we barely have the chance to properly have a chat,” Pearl simply explained. “I’m not actually sure if the mailing system will be operational this far out, so I might have to keep coming here myself. Isn’t that great?”

“You really don’t have to,” Grian argued weakly, as he grabbed a paper cup with a steaming liquid from his side and set it to his lips to take a little sip. He pulled a face as if he didn’t much like the beverage, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s my job and I do it with pleasure,” Pearl assured him with a smile. “Isn’t it just great how a job can be a calling?”

“Can’t say I share that sentiment,” Grian sighed. He had to squint against the light of the sun to look at Pearl. “Look, if there is anything you want from me you’re going to have to come back when we’re opened.”

“Oh, no, don’t you worry your little cotton socks,” Pearl answered, waving her hand. “That is the beauty of mail, you can tend to it whenever you have the time! You can do it first thing when you open again, some work to look forward to!”

Grian opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but ended up just shaking his head slowly. He must’ve had a rather bad night of sleep to be in such a mellow mood, Pearl assumed. She couldn’t imagine moping around at her job like this, it was way to wonderful to waste a day with a bad mood.

“So… do you have any mail to send?” she continued when Grian wasn’t pushing his conversation forward. “Any replies you need to send out from the letters I’ve brought you last week?”

“Haven’t gotten to them yet,” Grian answered dryly. “We were closed.”

“Oh,” Pearl was caught of guard by that but regrouped quickly. “Well, just know that you can count on the Hermit Post & Co to deliver anything you need. I can even deliver important documents if you want, with signed handover and everything. I’ll give it my extra secure, personal attention.”

“Great,” Grian answered with a sigh. “Don’t you have more mail to deliver? I was kind of in the middle of something.”

He took another sip from his drink, which seemed to be the ‘something’ he was in the middle of doing.

“Nope,” Pearl answered cheerful, shifting to sit next to Grian with her face turned towards the sun. “But I can enjoy this wonderful sunlight together with you. Isn’t that great?”

“… I don’t get paid enough for this.”