#more layering in this one than the previous one

[endursent]

- God Shattering Star

【 content; morax | rex lapis x reader , slow burn , mutual pining , multi-chapter , archon war period , afab!reader 】

【 note sorry this is also late i had to redo this chapter like 3 times cause i wasn't happy with it, i should stop re-reading a song of ice and fire while writing this 'cause i keep comparing my dialogue skills with fucking george rr martin and feel sad ｡ﾟ(*´□`)ﾟ｡ | read on ao3 】

【 word count; 6.016 | previous chapter - next chapter | masterlist 】

- Chapter 8 - Consumption

You barely recognise life anymore—or anything for that matter. You feel sick, sticky and heavy, as if your body is full of liquids in every crevice. The world around you feels lighter than you yourself do, like you’re sinking below it and perpetually struggling to reach upwards to grasp at the people staring down at you from around the cot. 

  Ming Hui sets her hand on your stomach, and a pain so consuming you thrash and scream overrides any thought or consciousness. Hands hold you down to prevent you from hurting yourself or anyone else as the smaller girl tears (at least that’s what it feels like to you) blackened liquids and blood from the lacerations on your belly. 

  You throw up every day, most of the time several times a day, nights are filled with shivers and huddling under blankets when you try to close your eyes to sleep—and wake in the middle of the night, soaked with sweat and fever. 

  One night, you had a terrible dream—you’ve been having many bad dreams, terrible, suffocating dreams. Nightmares. You woke up to two pairs of hands shaking your shoulders, clapping your cheeks lightly in hopes of waking you before you hurt yourself. 

  Another night, you couldn’t sleep, you kept seeing dark snakes slither between beds—you told yourself that they aren’t real, there are no snakes so high in the mountain of Liyue… they are far more common between the mountains, in thick forests with plenty of opportunities for food for their size. 

  They never approach your bed, one circles around it before disappearing behind a shelf of ointments. Later the same morning, exhausted and dozing from a sleepless night, you thought you saw a white snake under the bandage around your left arm looking at you, you reached out to pet it, but it slid back inside. Into your bandages. Into your skin.

  The week drags on for what feels like several of them. Every morning, Ming Hui would perform a cleanse and try to purify parts of your body to keep the miasma from spreading into it, but you weren’t sure how much it was helping, at least, you didn’t start feeling better until a week and a half after the seven days of cleansing. 

  With a groan, you prop yourself up and get into a sitting position, fumbling to grab one of the seven or so books on the table next to the cot, you let it fall open onto your lap. Staring at the ceiling is impossibly boring, and you hope your body is giving you some energy to use your brain at least a little. The book doesn’t have a name on the cover, nor does it look like a printed book—it’s full of handwriting and for a moment you thought Guizhong might have accidentally lent you a diary… but as you squint and read further, you see that it’s something of a logbook. 

  Documentation of a crew’s trip on the sea, the management of resources and the direction of the winds… it’s a surprisingly soothing read, you craft the ship in your mind and imagine the soothing brush of waves against the wood, sun beating down and warming the skin.

  You open your eyes again as a healer touches your shoulder and asks to see your left arm again, you didn’t even realise you fell asleep. The prickly sensation of their fingers prodding at your arm is strange, like it’s felt through a few layers of clothing… you can feel it, but just kind of. You feel like you used to be able to tell what texture was touching you—a finger or a glove, the grass or floor. But now it all feels like the same kind of poking.

  You feel a fragment of dread every time Ming Hui comes up to your bed, but thankfully the last few times, she’s just been bringing you things. Doughy snacks from the capital, some sesame balls from the kitchens, papers and ink to draw on, anything. Unfortunately none of the foods or snacks stick in your belly for long… but it’s nice to taste them, if only a small nibble with the front of your teeth and a poke of your tongue. 

  It has been a long morning, you had woken up early due to your back starting to hurt because you’ve been laying down for so long—you really wish you could start to walk around, but even just sitting up feels like you’re leaving half your organs behind on your mattress… you look up as you hear footsteps approach and see a familiar face, though not one you expected.

  Cloud Retainer—rather roughly—takes your arm and lifts it up vertically, you make a strange startled, as well as surprised sound and try to tug it back, but she holds it firmly. Ground Mender follows behind and sighs. “Be gentle,” she scolds. 

  “Hmph, a sound of pain merely shows there’s still feeling in the limb,” she moves it horizontally and squeezes the sides of your elbow, you have no idea what she’s doing. “Squeeze into a fist for me.” 

  You do as she asks, curling your fingers as much as you can—it’s not a very good squeeze, if any, but you manage to curl them into a fist with trembling fingers, your fist twitches from the effort. “Like this?”

  “Hm, good enough,” she nods and begins to undo the bandage. You look at Ground Mender, but she doesn’t seem to stop the other adeptus, so surely it’s okay… the bandages have been changed many times, but you’ve always been either been half-asleep or too out of it to pay attention to it. The white cloth falls away from your skin and reveals a rather uncomfortable sight—your arm looks like it’s been through the ringer. The skin is uneven and looks more like crumpled parchment stretched over bone than the arm you’re more familiar with, the deep wounds were beginning to close but you could still clearly see the raised edges where it separated, having been knit together twice. 

  It’s a mangled, uncomfortable thing, your fingers twitch and a dull tug pulls at your senses where you think your joints should be—as if the entire arm was misaligned, off-kilter.

  Cloud Retainer turns your arm wrist up and then wrist down, looks at it with a scrutinising eye behind those red-rimmed glasses. You wonder if adepti need glasses or if it’s just fashion. 

  “What are you searching for?” you ask, your arm is tired, being raised like that for so long. You want to let it lay down and rest. 

  The adeptus pokes your palm with a sharp nail and your fingers twitch again, your eyebrows furrow in mild annoyance… you can only tolerate being prodded at without explanation for so long. Finally, she graces you with an answer. “The miasma is concentrated heavily in your arm, most of what was in your stomach has been pulled out… but there is little to do with this part here.”

  You look down at your arm… it doesn’t look as rotted as you recall others’ bodies would become after as long as it has stayed in your arm. A bit discoloured, maybe… just, different. “Little to do? Extraction has never failed… can’t we just dig in and drag it out…?” you don’t have the energy or capacity to recount a lengthy process, but cleansing has never failed you—you have yet to find an object or person who was too far gone.

  And surely, you are not…?

  Cloud Retainer wraps your arm again carefully, you see the golden eyes of a snake staring at you from between the bandages.

  “Then… what do we do?” you ask as if there was something for you to do. You can barely hold your arm at chest-height for too long.

  Cloud Retainer holds her hand out to Ground Mender, who hands her the familiar wooden board someone is always holding when standing by your bed. “Observe for now, the miasma is contained below your elbow—” you look at the ink on your arm, locked. “—and it doesn't seem to be rotting the skin, it’s stagnant.”

  You were better for a while, and got worse again. 

  You could imagine the ship, high tides and low, rocking among the waving ocean—a peek of sunlight. Two suns, warmth and stability. A calm sea surrounded by raging waters. 

  The perpetual taste of bile stings the back of your throat, it’s a wonder if you aren’t in danger of malnourishment—you’re unsure you’ve kept down a meal in three weeks. Your head swims and you get nauseous if you lie down, you’re nauseous if you sit up. The world spins when you try to stand, even with attendants insisting you move your legs and body to prevent clotting from forming in your feet. You are practically hauled onto a cart of some sort that holds only your upper body, when strength slips between your fingers and you slide off—only just barely caught by the attendants and brought back to bed, they decide to just assign someone to apply pressure to your feet instead to promote blood flow.

  It’s strange… it’s all treatment and techniques you’ve familiarised yourself with over the last months you’ve been working for the capital. But it feels so foreign to be on the receiving end. 

  Like a rocking ship, you managed to down some foods one morning—and kept them down over lunch time, for the first time in… how long has it been? You feed some of the congee to a smaller snake by your bedside. 

  Everyone around you seemed very excited, but you didn’t have the energy to return it—you know in your heart and gut that it could change at any moment… your day moves slowly as you flip the page of a rather difficult book Cloud Retainer gave to you, it’s only about half writing and the rest is just numbers. Your eyes rise when you see Morax approaching your bed, and you straighten instinctively—he has something in his hand, a bamboo food basket with a long handle. “Good afternoon,” he greets evenly and takes a foldable table that’s used to prop on the bed to allow patients to eat there. He sets the basket on the table over your lap—over your book—and steps away again… Morax has been very quiet recently, and you’re unsure why. You would never say you know him well, you are just barely on greeting or chatting terms, but you still feel a sense that something weighs on his mind. 

  He returns again with a spoon. “Zhou’s son recently made travels to the west, and on my walk through the streets, the old man demanded I try some cuisine his son had studied there. This is supposed to be easily digestible,” Morax takes your right hand, despite it being very much healthy and mobile. His slender fingers slide below your wrist and lift your hand where he lays the spoon against your upturned palm, your fingers instinctively curl around the cutlery despite the fact that your eyes aren’t watching it. His expression is firm, stiff and stony. 

  “It’s not dinner time yet,” you’re not sure why you said it, perhaps the silence was uncomfortable, or you want his gaze to leave your torso and rise to meet yours. 

  He blinks, there are so many things on his mind that it gets pulled away even in the respite he’s taking in bringing you food. “Yes, my apologies. Master Zhou was rather insistent that I stop by and taste his son’s food no matter the time of day, he said finding me during meal hours is too complicated,” Morax lets go of your arm and his hand goes to the basket, he takes the top off and the dish out.

  While the congee you ate this morning was nice and light on your stomach—this dish was a pale yellow as opposed to the white of the congee. It smelled warm and comforting but mild, like a stone left under the midday sun, a hot spring on a cold winter’s day in the mountains where the flakes melt against your cheeks, but your body and shoulders are enveloped in a warmed watery blanket. 

  You stop staring at the dish and stick your spoon into it, it’s soft and moist, the rice separate easily as you scoop a small bite past your lips, careful not to have too much at a time—your stomach has traumatised you over the week by acting up over the smallest thing.

  “Ground Mender and Cloud Retainer surmised that though initially we thought enough of the miasma had been cleared from around your organs, your body is still too weak to push out the rest by itself,” Morax finds a stool to sit on next to your bed, not wanting to intrude on the mattress itself. In your convinced state, the bed is your only privacy space that only feels more confined when the curtains are closed around it. 

  The bite of food fills your mouth—and though your taste buds are extra sensitive now with not eating a lot of foods for so long… licking a sesame ball doesn’t count for much, it tastes very much like the warm embrace the smell and temperature brings. The rice is soft and nearly dissolves on your tongue, the creamy texture of the bite spreading in your mouth and down your throat—it’s five times more warming and powerful than a sip of warm water to smooth out your scrunchy stomach. It gets to work and you instantly feel a sense of ease. 

  Morax watches you as you lick your lips, dipping the spoon again. “What is it? It’s very nice,” you ask as you take another—now a fuller spoon—of the surprising dish.

  “Khichdi,” Morax says the word carefully, as if he were trying to mimic a pronunciation. “After master Zhou’s son returned, a lot of the dishes he learned to make have become very popular in the neighbourhood.”

  You hum, you can see why—the flavour is very unique, even if it’s not very strong, it’s likely made with ingredients not found in the Guili Assembly. “Some vegetables could add to it,” you muse to yourself, but quickly try and correct yourself. “I-I mean, it’s very good like this, thank you—”

  Morax, however, seemed sheepish for a moment. “Ah… there are vegetables in it… but master Zhou asked for your preference and I couldn’t answer, I deemed it safer to ask them to chop a chosen few of them into… miniscule pieces, in case chewing would be discomforting, or you didn’t like the taste.”

 You look down at the bowl, sure enough, there are specs of green and red—how small can you even chop a vegetable?! This looks like a crumb of salt, you think as you squint at a tiny flake of red on your spoon between two grains of rice… your taste buds are in shambles, even just the flavours of this was making it difficult to tell the ingredients, though there are some you have never tasted before. “Ah, thank you for your consideration,” you say before setting another—now spoonful—in your mouth. You almost wish you had bread now, when even two days ago you couldn’t even think about food without your stomach curling up. 

  Another silence lingers, but it’s not uncomfortable—not waiting or hesitant. You slowly eat while Morax sits, he looks around the calm ward, it’s usually only used in dire circumstances—when the usual infirmary tucked on the first floor on his side between the palaces is full, you’re the only patient being tended to now. “Perhaps you will soon be ready to go above ground,” Morax says absently, not turning his head to you yet.

  “Hm? Someone could surely carry me there now, I can try walking again,” you say after a swallow, realising you were eating a bit too fast, you slowed down; your grandmother wouldn’t have you consuming a meal made in kindness at breakneck speed without appreciating the flavour and effort. 

  “Though I’m glad you feel confident, I would rather avoid you hurting yourself,” Morax shakes his head slowly. “We will see what Ground Mender says in the morning, if you keep this down.”

  You better, you tell yourself. 

  Morax stuck around until you finished, and he helped put away the wooden board as well as placed the bowl back into the basket which had been set aside. You expected him to leave, but he walks around the bed to the side of your injured arm and extends his own right hand. “May I?”

  Raising your arm slowly, it stutters and jerks slightly, as if you were fighting against your own muscles for them to listen to your commands.Morax takes your arm kindly, treats it with a gentle touch you would expect from a seasoned healer… a soft glow emits from his hands and you feel their warmth seep into your skin, for a moment it is comforting, a taste of the khichdi from his hands to your skin.

  But suddenly, it’s too hot—it burns.

  You yank your arm back instinctively, as if you had laid it on a raging fire and not realised until the flames licked your skin. “Ah—” your right hand fingers dig into the bandage of your left arm, trying to squeeze away the pain, to inflict it differently and drain it out.

  Morax tenses at the sudden reaction, his eyes flashing with a strange emotion you didn’t see long enough to discern. “What is it?” he asks with urgency, but he doesn’t touch you again. Not if it was his touch that was the cause of your startling. “Did I hurt you?”

  “N-No,” you say quickly, but you’re not sure—it only happened because his fingers rested on your arm, but they were gentle, like leaves brushing against cobblestone in a drifting breeze. “What were you doing?”

  You don’t mean for your question to sound accusing, you hope Morax doesn’t take it as such. He looks from your eyes down to your clutched arm, eyebrows pinched in thought. “Does it still hurt?”

  “A little…” you mumble. Your arm tingles and your fingers tremble slightly, it has felt strangely cold—as opposed to the warmth that always emanated from corrupt skin, the miasma displaying symptoms of infections, because one corrupted is being infected. 

  “I was merely examining your energies, but as soon as I touched them…” he looked at his own hand. Your body had rejected his energies before—but they had not simply evaporated now, he was pushed back. 

  He does not like it. 

  You rub at your arm gently, nails scratching at the bandage now that you had the excuse. The bandage is wrapped so densely, your skin is moist and itchy. “Don’t scratch it,” Morax scolds as you do, and with a defeated sigh you look up at him again and tense. 

  There is an unmoving silence before you quickly look away again, but Morax saw the surprise and—fear? Concern?—on your face before you turned back to your arm. He says your name firmly, firmer than you’re sure you’ve heard before. “What is wrong?”

  “Nothing,” you say quickly. There was a snake around his shoulders. Writhing and wrapping around his throat. 

  They’re not real. You must just be malnourished, sick. Hallucinating. 

  Morax doesn’t react when the snake squeezes his neck.

  It’s not real.

  You pant, heart racing and pounding against your chest—you feel it so vividly you’re sure you could lay your fingers over your chest and pinch it when it presses between your ribs. You feel dizzy, and disoriented, eyes looking down to your left arm, it’s there—all fingers attached as usual. 

  Just seconds ago it had been red, open, you could reach out and touch the bone, you could wrap your fingers around it while your skin and muscles slipped off your arm and landed with a wet squelching sound on the floor.

  You’ve been having nightmares again. 

  It doesn’t have any comprehensive or predictable patterns, one night your head is in the maws of a beast, another you’re drowning under a tidal wave of iron-tasting water, unable to breathe or see as it stings your eyes and burns your lungs. You squeeze your eyes shut, running your right hand over your face tightly, squishing your nose slightly with your palm. 

  It’s exhausting. The day is tiring enough already, and you find no solace in sleep. You don’t even have the luxury of turning from one side or the other, any position other than flat on your back feels like your intestines are going to spill out through your belly button. 

  You glance at the breakfast laid out for you, sitting on the bedside table as it cools. Congee and some bread… but you don’t feel hungry. Not for what feels like the hundredth bowl of congee, you haven’t returned your meals in a few days, but yet Ground Mender denied you when you asked if you could be brought above ground.

  “We don’t have much space in the palace infirmary.”

  “Did something happen?” you had asked, you hadn’t heard of anything, but you haven’t heard much of the outside world in a while.

  Ground Mender changed the subject without telling you, and you were starting to feel that you were being kept alone in this massive hall for… what? You’re getting better, slowly, you managed to walk around your bed with some support, but you would never make it up the endless staircase leading to the sun-touched hallways. 

  It’s been a month and a half, according to an attendant that brought your breakfast. Your muscles have atrophied terribly and even just standing so someone can help you bathe is exhausting. 

  A hand touches your breakfast tray and you look up to see Moon Carver. It feels like every person you’ve met in the last months has been coming around to check on you… it’s strange. You’ve never stayed in one place for long enough for anyone to notice absent days of sickness, to inquire why you close your home off for cleansing for a week.

  You had returned to a small village that specialised in silk weaving and no one had remembered your face, despite the fact you had discovered the foul energies poisoning a part of the nearby forest, which caused a devastating number of lost silkworms over the span of three years. 

  You had seen your reflection recently and didn’t recognise yourself either. 

  “Time to stretch your legs, come on,” the adeptus tilts his head for you to get up. “The more you skimp out, the longer it will take to build those muscles up again.”

  If you don’t move, he’ll continue to pester you… you move the blanket off your lap and Moon Carver takes under your right elbow to help you stand. You’re steadier on your feet than you were before, but you always feel like your legs’ sense of balance is different from your mind’s. 

  “Starting to think you ask for babysitting duty,” you mumble, a poor attempt at humour as you take careful steps. You feel exhausted, but not like you would after running—there’s no burn, there’s no ache or cramp. You just feel like you’re going to slink down onto the floor like a dropped paper, swaying back and forth before gliding under a cabinet. 

  Moon Carver huffs, his grip is strong. “It’s not easy to say no to this one’s Lord.”

  “Would you if it were?” you wonder why Morax would ask Moon Carver to check on you, surely he has more important things to do. 

  He doesn’t answer, changing the subject. You’ve started to notice that when an adeptus doesn’t want to tell you something, they will just become quiet or dodge your question. “Let us go towards the stairs and back.”

  You frown. “All the way? It’s far…”

  It’s barely thirty steps, sixty in total there and back. You’ve walked this distance without a thought several times, so many you can’t begin to imagine how often. Light on your feet, walking briskly with tools, trays or heavy baskets you are sure you couldn’t try to lift up now. 

  It seems so far, yet you know it’s not. You just have to put one foot in front of the other, not think, not look at the distance, look at your feet, the floor. 

  You’ve had different nightmares. 

  Strange, different.

  Sinking below the claustrophobic, choking earth. Deeper into the iron water. Sinking. Watching the surface of the world like a reflection of sunlight from above the sea, blinding. 

  They’re vivid, but not scary.

  Just strange. Different. 

  Not nightmares.

  You wake and feel the warmth of the sun on your cheeks, it filters through oiled paper and you shift to your side. You don’t feel pain laying on your side anymore, but it’s not comfortable either… but you want to sleep, and the sun—though filtered—is in your eyes. You prefer to lay on your right side when you rarely roll, it’s easier if you have to sit up. 

  “Hmm, I would have thought you would be happy to see the sun?” Guizhong sets her hands on her hips, standing next to your bed suddenly—you didn’t hear her approach, but her preference to forgo shoes makes her footsteps very quiet. 

  You are happy to see it, Moon Carver helped Ground Mender carry you up the stairs last night. There’s less quiet in the palace infirmary, more patients coming and going and attendants rushing about… but as you don’t feel as sick as you did even just a week ago, it’s not as overwhelming to hear people wandering about, if anything, it’s comforting. 

  “I am,” you mumble, giving up on your prolonged rest to turn back on your back. “It’s warm.”

  “It won’t be for long, summer is coming to an end soon,” Guizhong approaches your bed and makes room for herself on the side of it next to you. “You should try and enjoy the warmth while it’s still here, do you want to go outside?”

  You do, you want to feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, to breathe in the fresh mountain air and feel the breeze ruffle your clothes. 

  But you don’t trust yourself to make it alone, even if you were to just stand by the walkway and hold onto the railing. “Will you help me?”

  “Of course,” Guizhong moves off the bed and straightens. “Let’s greet the fishes in the gardens.”

  You want to squat down and let the carps nibble on your finger, but you worry you might not be able to get back up easily, or you might pull on something. Instead, you merely stare longingly while Guizhong kneels down and feeds them from her hand.

  There’s not much wind today, barely the breeze you longed for—but even just the soft brush of air is more than you’ve had for weeks. You squint up towards the sky, a few clouds lazily drifting across the vast expanse as the sun hangs high above your heads.

  You hear the waters of the pond and small stream that cuts through the back gardens, a usually peaceful ambiance that makes you slightly uneasy now. You can’t imagine yourself stepping into a river anytime soon… you know that rationally, there is no danger in the small waters of the gardens, but the thought of touching the waters makes your skin crawl. 

  Footsteps approach the two of you and Cloud Retainer stops next to you—she has a floating bird crafted from bamboo and paper next to her, you hope it doesn’t shoot darts at the fish—with a flourish of her hair. “Your breakfast is waiting for you.”

  Ah. “I’m not hungry,” you turn your gaze away from the eccentric inventor, looking down to the Lord of Dust that pets every fish that comes to eat from her hand. 

  “You said the same thing last night,” she folds her arms over her chest. “You need energy.”

  She’s right, of course. “... okay, I’ll try.”

  You sit on the side of the road, a weary log under you and soft grass beneath your feet, the sun slowly sinks below the treeline as you stretch your legs and raise your gaze to the pink sky, your surroundings are peaceful and silent—a captured moment in time where you get to be alone with yourself. 

  Long, high trees line the road behind you and shield you from the rest of the world, the view before you is a comfort and home. Rolling hills, distant farms and fields of flowers spread over the land, coloured orange and pink with the reflective sky.

  A child runs past you, they trip on a rock and tumble to the floor—but no sounds of pain leave them, giggles and snickers as an older sibling runs past them, grabbing their shirt and hauling them up on their feet as they continue their sprint. 

  You don’t recognise them, but they feel familiar.

  You feel no wind nor the heat of the sinking sun, the sky is clear of clouds and birds, there is nothing but the wide scroll of the heavens furling across the air, opening up to reflect their blessings of fertile lands and fresh produce. You stretch your arms above your head and stand up, patting your clothes down to rid of any grass or dirt before continuing on your way. 

  You see him in the distance, and your pace increases. A flow of white robes and long brown hair, he turns off the gravel road and walks towards the thick treeline. Where is he going? You only see his back, the golden lines glowing in the darkening surroundings—as if beckoning you to follow, a guiding light. 

  But before you can leave the road and follow him into the forest, a hand grabs your elbow and stops you.

  You hear your name and blink—there’s no trees in front of you, there is a deep crater that is centred with a pool of water. Dry dirt crumbs fall down from below your foot and roll to the body of water, creating ripples in the still waters.

  Suddenly, you feel as if all the weight of the world is bearing down on your body, you’re cold, your feet hurt—you’re not wearing shoes. You stand at the edge of a crater, one step from tumbling down, and in the battered state you’re already in, it wouldn’t be a good tumble. You look back and see Morax staring at you, his hair is tousled and eyes strangely wide—you have never seen his face make such a vivid expression, one of surprise and concern. He tugs you backwards and you fall into him, your legs give out and tremble with strain. There’s a dull, agitating throb in your arm and stomach, a pulsing throb in tune with your heartbeat, in tune with the sway of the grass around you. Back-forth. Back-forth—

  You hear your name again, his arms hold you up and prevent you from sinking down to the ground. “Can you hear me?” 

  You can, but you find it difficult to voice your confirmations. You’re cold, it’s nighttime—how is it night already? The stars dot the sky with bright flickers and you try to stand, but your feet feel like heavy weights, a thrumming prick of needles rushes through them when you try to put pressure on them. 

  Why does it feel like he is always seeing you at your worst? 

  Sick. Injured. Hurting. 

  You would rather fall into the crater, he must think you a burden on—

  “You’re trembling,” his voice is louder than the brushing wind, louder in your ear than the sway of branches and rustling of leaves. “How have you found yourself here? In the darkness of night, alone and so far from the city?”

  He sounds different, urgent and more pointed—as if a front has been reached through, a hand through fog holding your arms as he steadies you against him. Morax’s body is warm. “You… it was you, I was following you,”you finally manage. But when did you start chasing him? You don’t remember starting a journey. 

  “Me?” he hesitates for only a beat of your erratic heart. “Are you certain?” Morax reins in his urgent tone, carefully choosing his words. “Word was sent to me that you had disappeared from your bed, it has been two days—do you know where you are?”

  “No,” it’s an easy question to answer, despite it being so difficult to think of what had just happened mere hours ago, days ago—a week ago. Your tense of time is ruffled, what had been the last thing you had been doing? Were you asleep before or after finishing the book Guizhong had left you?

  “The energies in your arm have spread again,” he moves—tugging your rather limp body along with him as he kneels on the soft ground. You feel the tickle of grass on your calves and realise you’re still wearing the short pants and shirt you were put in and made to use by the medical ward. Morax tilts you towards him as he unfurls the bandage on your arm, your side and right arm rest against his chest and torso, your head falling rather lamely against his shoulder—it’s a strangely intimate position that neither of you consider given the circumstance, it doesn’t feel intimate, it only serves the purpose of not having you fall over while his hands are occupied.

  The ink that had been sealing the miasma below your elbow was smudged—this type of ink doesn’t smudge for this specific reason. Blackened veins travel up your arm, so stark against your skin that they might as well be drawn on. They rise up your bicep and fade just below your neck. Morax’s eyes are focused and firm as he turns your throbbing arm palm up to examine it further. “The seal has been torn,” his fingers ghost over the blackened veins on your arm, you’ve only felt his gloved hands before, you wonder if his fingers are softer than the texture of his clothes. “You said you were following me.”

  You were… or, you thought so. “It looked like you,” you say it more so to yourself than him.

  “Did you see its face?” he asks as he wraps your arm again,  your skin is ice cold to the touch—the weather has cooled as summer is coming to an end, and with the Guili Assembly’s elevated land, it gets colder faster. 

  “No,” you mumble, shoulders raised as a cool breeze brushes past your neck, raising shivers on your skin. 

  Morax doesn’t ask further questions, but it doesn’t leave his mind either. He believes what you say, what you saw… real or not, it only serves to drive his concern for your well-being, physical and mental. 

  His hand raises, and you feel something touch your head. You squint your eyes open—you didn’t even realise you had closed them—and tilt your head to look at his face. Morax’s face is so close you can feel the warm brush of his breath on your cold chin, it blooms over the bottom half of your face. “What are you doing…?”

  His fingers halt and lift from your head, Morax blinks down at you. “I… heard it is a sign of comfort.”

  He was patting your head, trying to comfort you—it was… rather cute, that he tried even while struggling to grasp whether it would be appreciated or not. “Oh… thank you, it’s okay,” your torso doesn’t feel as cold anymore. Morax seems to take your waiting eyes as permission, and his palm rests on your head again, carefully. He doesn’t stroke or scratch like one would do with a pet or animal, his palm and fingers lift slightly and touch back down a few times. 

  You never thought you would be petted like this by a god, had you told yourself a few months ago, you would have found it funny—silly maybe. But… now that his warm hand touches your head gently, you find that it is comforting.

[vooruitmariek]

@mortiscausa march to camelot 2: fool - Merlin

[doyelikehaggis]

7 Days of Scarepairs: Sciles | Scott McCall x Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf) + “Grief”

Requested by @joanthangroff (TW mention of suicide attempt)

It was a long ride back from the motel. At least, it felt longer. Stiles' gaze burning holes in the side of his face wasn't making it go any faster, either. Scott could see his bouncing leg, hear his racing heart and smell the anxiety radiating off of him. Even if he were oblivious to all of that, he would still know something was wrong with him.

"Stiles," he said wearily, looking at him properly for the first time since Coach snatched his whistle back off of Lydia and told them to sit down. "Are you okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. All good."

The way he glanced at him said otherwise. Scott raised his eyebrows pointedly and the leg bouncing stopped. Stiles ran a hand over his thigh and nodded jerkily as if reiterating that he was fine.

"Look, we're gonna figure this out, okay?" Scott assured him as best he could. "From what Ethan said, there's a good chance that Derek is alive. Once we get back to Beacon Hills, we can find him, and we can make a better plan. No one else is going to get hurt."

He just managed to bite back a promise. He knew he couldn't. He only hoped that it was the truth.

But Stiles stared at him like he could see right through him, his eyes narrowing. He parted his lips like he was going to retort, as he usually would, but instead, he just shook his head and turned to face the back of the seat in front of him. As he ran a hand over his face, Scott frowned.

"You're angry," he blurted out.

Stiles shook his head again and sighed. "No. No, Scotty, I'm not angry." His heart skipped but he acted like Scott couldn't hear it. "I'm just... I'm tired. Last night was..."

"I know," Scott said softly. His own heart skipped. "But the darach's not going to catch us by surprise like that again."

Stiles nodded, but he didn't say anything else. In fact, he didn't say anything else for the rest of the ride. Scott wanted to, but something stopped him. He took to staring out the window and letting his eyes unfocus as he repeated his plan to find Derek in his mind the whole way home.

*

The bus dropped them off at the school. Stiles insisted on driving Scott home, even though he had his bike. He didn't put up a fight - he just wanted to go home and see his mom before he did anything else. That phone call back at the motel had felt too real. He just needed to see her.

Of course, she was at work. Scott sighed when he found the note on the fridge, but he told himself not to overthink it. She was fine.

"Alright, well, I think we should go to Derek's loft first," he said, turning to Stiles who was lingering by the back door, his arms folded. "He'd most likely have gone back there to try and heal."

He frowned.

"Although, if the alpha pack are looking for him, that might be too obvious. Maybe we should try the animal clinic first. He could've gone to Deaton, right?"

He waited for Stiles to agree with him or suggest something he hadn't thought of because right then, all Scott had was a handful of guesses and maybes.

But Stiles didn't chime in. He shrugged when he realized Scott was looking at him.

"Stiles, are you sure you're okay?" he asked gently.

Stiles dragged a hand over his face and sighed again, his tongue in his cheek, and he could smell the irritation on him, just like when they were on the bus.

"You know what? No," he snapped, throwing his hand up. "No, Scott, I'm not okay, and, quite frankly, neither are you, and I don't get why we're just pretending that last night never happened. Because it did."

"Do you mean..." Scott couldn't quite get the words out, his throat closing up around them and forcing them back down. He shifted his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment. "The wolfsbane?"

"Yeah, I'm talking about the wolfsbane," Stiles said, his voice thick with emotion he was failing to contain. "More specifically, what the wolfsbane did to you, Scott."

Scott shook his head, his eyebrows drawing together as he tried to ignore the sick feeling weighing down on him. "It was just... you saw what it did to all of us. Ethan-"

"Tried to saw himself open, yeah," Stiles cut him off. "Probably something to do with his freakish ability to combine into one even more freakish mutation with Aiden. Isaac - he was hiding under his bed. Boyd and Lydia were hearing things. But you, Scott..."

He took a step toward him, and Scott watched his feet, observing every little detail of his shoes and the kitchen floor.

"Scott, you tried to kill yourself."

"It was just..."

"No. No, Scott, the wolfsbane brought out all of your biggest fears and just - just heightened your true emotions. Boyd's guilt about his sister, Isaac's fear of his dad, Lydia always being the one to find dead bodies. It wasn't the wolfsbane talking when you did that. Was it?"

Scott knew he had to give him an answer. He just didn't think either of them really wanted to hear it. The truth hung in the air between them, as suffocating as the gasoline that still clung to Scott's senses.

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly, then looked up to meet Stiles' disbelieving stare. "We need to find Derek. We can't waste any more time, we need-"

"Scott, stop! Can you even - you nearly died! Twice!"

"But I didn't-"

"Because someone stopped you! Allison literally had to sew you back together because you felt so guilty about Derek being dead that you were going to let yourself die, too! Scott, I had to talk you out of setting yourself on fire, how can you not - how do you not see how messed up that is?!"

"Stiles, I'm sorry about last night, okay? I shouldn't have... I should've fought the wolfsbane, or..."

Stiles just stared back at him, shaking his head incredulously. Finally, in a much softer voice, he said, "Scott, I don't want you to be sorry that I had to save you. I just... I just wanna know that you don't actually believe what you said last night."

It was a simple request. It would take just two words. And yet...

Scott opened his mouth. Then he shook his head and closed it again, looking away with a piercing pain where his healed wound was just yesterday.

"You have to admit that a lot of what we've gone through wouldn't have happened if I hadn't..."

"Hadn't what?" He looked back up to see the reason for the quiver in Stiles' voice; tears shone in his wide eyes. "Hadn't survived being bitten by Peter? That's what you meant, wasn't it?"

He tilted his head but he didn't get a chance to deny or confirm. Stiles already knew. He looked like he might crumble into a million pieces.

"Scott," he said, his voice cracking as he moved closer. "I don't care what's happened to us. I don't care about the murderous werewolves or - or the hunters, or any of the crazy supernatural things that keep happening around us, alright? Because we've survived it, but what I wouldn't have survived was losing my best friend."

Scott bit his tongue, his eyes stinging. Part of him wanted to point out all the bad things - the numerous times he's put his life in danger, the people who haven't survived the craziness of their world, and everything else.

Then Stiles really did crumble. "Scott, I meant what I said last night. And I can't lose you. I can't - you and my dad, you're all... you're all I've got, and I can't - Scotty, I can't lose you as well. I need you. And I know how selfish that is, but it's true. So, if you need a reason to - to believe that you should be alive, then there it is. Me, Scott. Make me your reason if you have to, or your mom, or even Allison, because I promise you that none of us would be better off if you weren't here."

"You'd be safe, at least."

He didn't mean to say it. It just slipped out.

"You don't know that," Stiles countered, then he shrugged. "And even if that was true - I don't care. Scott, I'd rather be in danger every day of my life from some supernatural threat than live without you."

He didn't know what to say to that. All he could do was surge forward and hug him. Stiles immediately wrapped his arms tight around him, as if he never intended to let go.

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly into his shoulder.

"Just make me a promise, Scotty. Alright? Promise that you'll talk to me, so that, when you start blaming yourself for every bad thing that's ever happened, I can tell you what an idiot you are."

Scott chuckled and nodded. "I promise." Then, he softly added: "I mean it."

Stiles tightened his arms just a little more. Both of them savoured the feeling of the other against them. Solid. Real. Alive. Safe. For a moment, they were as physically intertwined as they were in every other way.

Scott knew they should look for Derek. They should come up with a plan to stop the darach. But he wasn't ready to let go of the first real feeling of comfort he'd felt in a while.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

uhhhh i think they were kinda fucked

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 10: Whomp That Sucker (Where's My Girl)

A good time!!! That's the first thing I associate with this album. It's one of the earlier ones I've heard too and I was certainly a big fan of it from the very start. Not only that, but I think it was a bit of a groundbreaking point in my experience as a new Sparks fan, since I was trying to figure out where to go next and this was a good plunge somewhere in the midst of it all that proved that no matter where you go, you're going to get something special! And after a couple more months (I mean, it's been a bit over a year since that first listen already! How time flies) it still holds up in my personal rankings. Soooo well. Definitely very special to me!

I think it's safe to say by now that between the pair of Whomp and Angst I'll always stay partial to Whomp. The latter seems to be much more popular among fans, and I can understand that, but something about Whomp speaks to me much more. Both are fun, energetic new-wavey albums, still in the realm of rock but with some cool use of synths that would soon become even more important and a core element of the music. Still though, I think Whomp is more PURE fun - between many hilarious lyrics and the overall playful and lighthearted nature of it, I don't think it's possible to listen to this one and not feel even a little bit happier afterwards.

I especially love the whole atmosphere of it, what I call the spacey / sparkly synth, that gives it a little bit of an outer space feel, much moreso than the actual album called In Outer Space (but i'd better not get ahead of myself yet when it comes to that one, lol). This album really feels sparkly and even glittery to me in a weird way, and unexplainably, this all reminds me of like, sweets and chocolates like those cosmic brownies or daim candy?? That's what this album would taste like to me! Sweet and a little extra and always a good little treat. Damn, and now I want to try a cosmic brownie.

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

I don't even have that many personal favourites from this album even though I really really love it as a whole!! I guess it's a bit of a Propaganda situation, where there isn't that many super big standouts compared to the rest of the tracks, they're all just very cool and I mostly don't have that much to say about them individually, they're all just!! So fun!! (I mean, ok, Suzie Safety might be the only one here that I don't care about all that much. I'm sorry, Suzie.) So this is more of a Moments list than anything

I Married A Martian: mostly I'm just incredibly charmed by the story here

Where's My Girl: AARGHHH!!! WAAUUGHGH!!! I LOVE THIS SONG!!!! SO MUCH!!!! The closest I can come to describing the feeling here is something like... song you heard a couple times when you were very young, enough that you remember how it goes when you hear it again, but can't recall it on the spot otherwise, and you forget about the song's existence until you hear it again after all those years and are hit by the biggest wave of nostalgia and longing for the past that you've ever experienced in your life. All that despite me never hearing this song until last year. Or is there just something I'm not aware of... Anyway, this was one of those rare and treasured moments of THIS IS WHAT I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR!! *MY* MUSIC!! Needless to say, this song stayed on repeat countless of times and I will never get over how awesome this guitar solo is. And again, the spacey synth!!

Upstairs: upstAAAAAAirs!!! upstAAAAAAirs!!!

Don't Shoot Me: big fan of the whole thing but I'm especially charmed by the little high-pitched "shoot!"s and such in the background, and "WHO'S HEEE???"

The Willys: the song itself isn't even my fav but the PHYSICALLY! MENTALLY! MORALLY! part is always very chuckle-worthy. That's the wondrous humour I'm talking about here

That's Not Nastassia: Sparks songs with uncomfortably long endings my beloved... can also be pretty hilarious under the right circumstances (like listening to the vinyl of this album with my dad and watching his reaction). And can't forget how cool the transition into the last song is

[ningtual]

oh i'm gonna be so annoying about this album..... i even took notes while listening to this just now...

[leojurand]

Peter: Oy!

Harriet: Hullo!

Peter: I just wanted to ask whether you’d given any further thought to that suggestion about marrying me.

Harriet (sarcastically): I suppose you were thinking how delightful it would be to go through life like this together?

Peter: Well, not quite like this. Hand in hand was more my idea.

Harriet: What is that in your hand?

Peter: A dead starfish.

Harriet: Poor fish!

Peter: No ill-feeling, I trust.

Harriet: Oh, dear no.

Dorothy L. Sayers, Have His Carcase

[fujii-draws]

Pt 2 (getting into more positives!!)

OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

[ifwdominicfike]

you give inexperienced bsf!matt his first handjob

── .✦. ──

“are y’sure you’re ready baby? need to hear you say it.” you coo softly, poor boy could barely get a word out without whimpering. “y-yes.. please— just wan’ you to t-touch me!” his hips bucking up as you palm him through the thin layer of his sweatpants.

“kay’ sweet boy..” you begin to slide off his layers, the feeling of the fabric rubbing up against him makes him whine. hiding his face from embarrassment as he let out those sweet sounds you craved to hear. “dont hide from me baby, lemme see your face. yeah?” he slowly brings down his hand, opting to grip onto the bedsheets instead. “please y/n.. need y-your hand”

you smile at his desperation, once his sweats are gone you hook your fingers in his boxers and bring them down just enough to his mid thigh. you’re met with his hard cock, he twitches from the cool air exposed to him. “look at you.. mm— y’so big and pretty baby.” your hands slide up and down his thighs, purposely not touching him where he needs you most. “pl-pleaseee” he whines “please what? don’ know what you want unless you tell me baby..”

he squirms under your touch, growing more frustrated each second “pl- fuck! to-touch me, do anything! please i ne-need you” he pleads, trying his hardest not to do the job himself “good boy, s’proud of you sweet boy. just one more thing, kay?” your hand moves up to his mouth “spit baby, go ahead..” you coax him, a sweet smile adoring your face “y-yes ma’am”

after he does so you bring your hand down to his leaking cock “o-oh! fuck— ye-yes..” he groans, throwing his head back against the pillow “yeah? that feels good huh.. better than your own hand?” he vigorously nods his head, knuckles turning white due to his grip on the bed “f-faster baby.. please!” he breathes out “of course baby, can’t deny you when you sound like that..” your grip tightens around him and your pace quickens “oh- sh- shit! m’gonna fuck!” he hurriedly says.

“y’gonna what sweetheart? come on lemme hear that sweet voice” you tease “come! fuck- fuck! m’gonna come. d-don’ stop.. mmm” his hips moving up in rhythm with the thrusts of your hand “oohh look at you, soaking my hand like a slut. s’that what you are? just a greedy slut who needs nothing but attention, yeah?” your degrading words send him over the edge, thick ropes of white shoot out from him. “fuck! yes- yes, yes!”

“good boy, look at that.. all y’needed was a little bit of mean words and you’re a mess already.” you slowly removed your hand, looking over at matt all spent with his head thrown back and eyes shut from his previous orgasm. once he opens his eyes he’s met with the sight of you licking up the mess that he made.

“fuck..” his breathing heavy, shutting his eyes once more to help him calm down until he feels his overstimulated cock in your hold again. “oh you thought we were done baby?”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

“WE LOVE YOU SUB!MATT” we all say in unison. i live for sub!matt idc i need that man whimpering and whining underneath me NOW. im surprised i wrote this IN ONE SITTING?? (if there’s errors, shhh) anyway, enjoy bye i love youu !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @ellaapsworld @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela

[taurasiluvr]

SIZE KINKS WITH MY FAVORITES !

including . . . paige bueckers, diana taurasi, emily engstler & caitlin clark

how you can help palestine

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. lesbian... sex, a lot of it lmao. fingering, praise, size kinks.

 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p also just wanted to add i tried making this as inclusive as possible, if you are plus-sized, let me know if this was good !! its never my intention to make anyone feel left out, my writing is for EVERYBODY (except men)

PAIGE BUECKERS (slight nsfw)

 ⠀ ── ⠀paige is taller than most people, standing at around 5"11'. all her previous partners were taller/around her height so once she'd began dating you, everything kind of shifted and she loved it. she likes to tease you about it a lot – and yes, she is the type to purposely put the mugs on the highest shelf so that you call her over – and with some convincing (she loves seeing you struggle on your tippy-toes, trying to reach), she'll come and help you.

however, not only does she love it – it turns her on exponentially. the way she could easily push you around and assert her dominance in small, playful ways became an undeniable part of your relationship. she adored the way you looked up at her with those wide eyes, the mixture of surprise and amusement whenever she effortlessly moved you out of the way or pinned you playfully against a wall.

paige found herself reveling in the power dynamic, her hands lingering on you a little longer, her touches a little more deliberate. the height difference allowed her to envelop you completely, to make you feel secure yet electrified by her presence. she loved how easily she could lift you, how her strength contrasted with your smaller frame, and how it made her feel in control yet deeply connected to you. every time you called for her help, whether it was to reach something or open a stubborn jar, she felt a thrill run through her. it was more than just the physical act; it was the way you relied on her, the way you trusted her to take care of you in those moments. that trust, that dependency, was intoxicating for paige.

she wouldn't call it a kink per say – more like an aspect of your relationship that added an extra layer of excitement and intimacy. she loved the way you looked at her when she teased you, the playful spark in your eyes that matched her own. it was a game you both played, one that kept the flame of your relationship burning bright. and while she wouldn't call it a kink (it for sure is), she couldn't deny how incredibly turned on she was by the way your dynamics played out.

“need some help, shorty?” she called out as she walked into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with that familiar, mischievous smirk.

you sighed dramatically, “you know, you could just put things where i can reach them.”

“but where’s the fun in that?” she teased, stepping closer.

she pressed herself against your back, reaching up effortlessly to grab the bowl. you felt her breath on your neck, and a shiver ran through you. she lingered, her body warm and solid against yours, and you could sense her enjoying the moment. her arm brushed against your side as she placed the bowl in your hands, and she didn't pull away immediately. instead, she stayed close, her fingers lightly tracing the line of your shoulder.

“you're too cute when you struggle,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear.

you turned around to face her, your heart racing. the playful glint in her eyes had shifted to something deeper, more intense. she looked down at you, her height making you feel both vulnerable and cherished.

“it's not fair,” you said softly, but your voice lacked any real protest.

paige smiled, her hands coming to rest on your hips. she leaned down, her forehead touching yours, and you felt her warmth envelop you.

“that's too bad cus i really enjoy it,” she murmured, her lips dangerously close to yours. you scoffed, shaking your head dramatically as she laughed.

you could feel the heat between you both, a magnetic pull that had your pulse quickening. she loved having this slight edge over you, the way it made you look up to her – both literally and figuratively. unable to resist any longer, she closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. you responded immediately as her arms wrapping around you, lifting you slightly off the ground, making you feel even smaller in her embrace. the kiss deepened, and you melted into her, your fingers tangling in her hair.

when she finally set you down, you were both breathless. paige's eyes were dark with desire, and she pressed her forehead against yours once more.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” she whispered.

you smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “great. now, can we get back to making dinner? ’m starving.”

she laughed, a rich, joyful sound that made your heart soar. “only if you promise to keep needing my help with the high shelves.”

you nodded, a playful glint in your eye. “m’kay.”

DIANA TAURASI (nsfw)

 ⠀ ── ⠀she knew what she was getting herself into the moment she began dating you. unlike paige, she would (and has) admitted to having a shameless size kink. diana towers over almost everyone, being 6ft and all – but it really gets her going when it's you.

in bed, she never ever shys away from showing you not only how small you are compared to her – but how strong she is. diana's eyes gleam with anticipation as she playfully pins you down, her muscular frame effortlessly holding you in place. the contrast between her towering height and your smaller stature ignites a primal excitement in her. she loves the way you fit perfectly against her, the way she can envelop you with her body and make you feel both vulnerable and protected at the same time. diana takes immense pleasure in using her height and strength to her advantage, positioning you just where she wants you, lifting you effortlessly, and holding you in place with ease.

she's fiercely confident, and it shows in every movement. diana knows exactly how to play with the power dynamic, teasing you with her dominance while also ensuring you feel cherished. her touch is commanding, yet tender, and she enjoys exploring the boundaries of her strength and your responsiveness.

when she's not pinning you down, she enjoys playfully lifting you, carrying you around, or simply holding you close to her, making you feel small and cherished. diana's size and strength are constant reminders of her presence, and she loves the way you respond to her, the way you melt under her touch, the way your breath catches when she effortlessly moves you. and again, it turns her on in a way she can't even begin to explain.

diana's enjoyment of her size kink isn’t just physical; it's also deeply psychological. she loves the way you look at her with a mix of awe and desire, the way your body reacts to her dominance, the way you crave the unique dynamic you share. it's an intoxicating power play that she never tires of, of strength and submission that fuels her passion.

diana's eyes gleam with anticipation as she pins you down, her muscular frame effortlessly holding you in place. the contrast between her towering height and your smaller stature ignites a primal excitement in her.

“look at you,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “so tiny beneath me.”

diana revels in this dynamic, the way you squirm under her dominance; it's a game she loves to play, and you're a willing participant.

she lifts you with ease, her hands gripping your waist as if you weigh nothing. you feel the heat of her breath against your skin as she whispers, “could hold you like this forever, princess.”

there's a possessive hunger in her eyes, a deep-seated desire to remind you of your place in her world. she seats you down on her lap as she spreads your legs, you could feel her breath fanning on your neck. she rubs your clothed pussy, earning a moan from your lips. her lips quirked up into an excited smirk as she watches your reaction.

“you like that, don’t you?” she teases, her voice low and husky. her fingers continue their relentless teasing, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. the friction, even through your clothes, sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“such a good little thing for me,” she praises, her tone both affectionate and commanding. her free hand moves to your hip, holding you in place with a firm yet gentle grip. the intensity of her gaze never wavers, her eyes drinking in every expression that crosses your face.

she leans in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “love how responsive you are,” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin. “every little sound you make, every shiver... it drives me crazy, baby.”

diana's hands grow bolder, one slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, the other continuing its tormenting touch. she revels in the way your body reacts to her, the way you arch into her touch, the soft gasps and moans that escape your lips.

“mine,” she murmurs possessively, her voice a mix of desire and adoration. “all mine.”

with each passing moment, the intensity between you builds, a potent mix of lust and intimacy that leaves you breathless. diana's dominance is unwavering, yet there's a tenderness in her touch that speaks volumes about her feelings for you.

her lips find yours in a searing kiss, full of passion and possessiveness. her hand moves faster, the pressure increasing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “wanna hear you, princess.” she demands softly, her voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.

EMILY ENGSTLER (nsfw)

 ⠀ ── ⠀emily liked the fact she was much taller than you, but it wasn't until she finally slept with you when she realized how much it turned her on. in daily life, it was honestly just a plus for her – she loved holding your hips as she led you places, feeling the way you fit perfectly against her side.

she reveled in the little things, like reaching for items on high shelves for you or wrapping her long arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you walked. it made her feel protective and strong, and she could see the appreciation in your eyes, the way you leaned into her touch. and like paige, she'd never call it a size kink even though... it for sure was.

but it was in the privacy of the bedroom where emily's height advantage truly came into play. the first time she had you beneath her, your smaller frame dwarfed by her own, she felt a surge of excitement that she hadn't anticipated. the sight of you looking up at her, wide-eyed and eager, was intoxicating – it got her wet beyond comprehension.

she loved the way you responded to her, the way you would shiver under her touch, your breath hitching as her hands explored your body. emily found herself becoming bolder, her confidence growing with each gasp and moan she elicited from you the more you guys fucked. she'd pin your wrists above your head, her grip firm but gentle, and savor the sight of you laid out beneath her, completely at her mercy.

emily's dominant side thrived on your willingness, your trust in her. she enjoyed the power play, the way she could effortlessly maneuver you into different positions, the way her strength made you feel both vulnerable and cherished. it was a thrilling dynamic, one that brought you both closer together.

outside the bedroom, her dominance was subtler but no less significant. she'd guide you with a hand on your lower back, steer you through crowds with ease, always keeping you close. the height difference was a constant reminder of the bond you shared, a dynamic that seeped into every aspect of your relationship.

"you're so beautiful," she murmured, her voice low and husky. "love how perfectly you fit with me."

with a fluid motion, emily lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the bed. you gazed up at her, feeling a familiar thrill as she towered over you, her presence both commanding and comforting. she straddled your waist, her long legs framing your body, and leaned down to kiss you, her lips capturing yours in a slow, passionate kiss that left you breathless.

she pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire. "you like it when i take control?" she asked, her voice a seductive whisper.

"yes," you breathed, your response immediate and sincere.

a smile curved her red lips as she pinned your wrists above your head, her grip firm but not painful. the weight of her body pressed against yours, a delicious reminder of her strength and dominance. she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "good," she whispered. "cus i love it too."

CAITLIN CLARK (nsfw)

 ⠀ ── ⠀caitlin never missed an opportunity to show you how small you are compared to her. whether it was easily pushing to the side or or lifting you up as if you weighed nothing, she reveled in the stark difference between your statures. it was a reminder of her strength and dominance, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill every time she did it.

caitlin's dominance showed in countless little ways, she loved wrapping an arm around your waist, guiding you through crowds with an ease that made you feel safe and protected. her height allowed her to effortlessly reach things on high shelves for you, a simple act that never failed to bring a smile to her face. she enjoyed playfully teasing you about your size, her comments always laced with affection.

caitlin's physicality was a constant presence, whether she was picking you up for a quick kiss or pulling you into her lap while watching a movie. she thrived on the power dynamic, finding joy in the way you responded to her strength. your smaller frame seemed to increase her confidence, making her feel both powerful and nurturing.

her protective nature extended beyond physical gestures. caitlin was always looking out for you, her sharp eyes and quick reflexes ensuring you were never in harm's way. she took pride in being your rock, someone you could rely on no matter the situation. this sense of security and trust deepened your bond, reinforcing the unique dynamic that defined your relationship.

in more intimate moments, caitlin's dominance took on a deeper, more intense form. she loved exploring the contrast between your bodies, the way her hands could easily envelop yours, her arms strong and reassuring around you. she loved watching your reactions, the way your breath hitched and your body shivered under her touch.

she placed you gently on the bed, her hands lingering on your hips as she leaned down to kiss you. the kiss was soft at first, but it quickly deepened, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your heart race.

caitlin pulled back, her eyes dark with desire as she looked down at you. "you're so perfect like this," she murmured, her hands sliding up your sides. "so small and delicate."

you shivered under her touch, the weight of her gaze making you feel both vulnerable and incredibly turned on. caitlin's hands were firm yet gentle as she pinned your wrists above your head, her body pressing against yours. the sensation of her strength holding you in place sent a wave of excitement through you.

"you like it when i take control, sweet girl?" she asked, her voice low and husky.

"yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

a satisfied smile spread across caitlin's face as she leaned down to kiss your neck, her lips leaving a trail of faint hickies in their wake. her hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour with a possessive hunger. she loved the way you responded to her touch, the way your body arched and trembled beneath her.

"so fucking pretty," she whispered against your skin, her voice full of adoration. "all for me."

her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan softly in response. caitlin hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as she positioned herself between your legs. her fingers teased your entrance, you were practically dripping and caitlin loved it.

"so wet and i haven't even touched you yet, baby." she mumbled as she looked down at you, her lips quirked into a smirk.

her finger slipped into your sopping cunt as your head fell back in pure ecstasy. she added another finger, then another and you swore you've never felt more full in your life despite it just being her fingers.

"let go for me," she urged, her voice a soothing command. "wanna hear you."

with each thrust, the sensations built within you, your moans growing louder as you neared the edge. caitlin's touch was everywhere, her presence overwhelming and comforting all at once. you clung to her, your body responding to her in a way that was almost instinctual.

when you finally reached your peak, you cried out her name, your body shuddering with release. caitlin held you close, her strong arms wrapping around you as you came down from your high. she kissed your forehead, her lips gentle and tender against your skin.

"my sweet girl," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine affection. "i love you so much."

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[anotherlongstoryshort]

Things about the Wisdom Saga that have plagued me all damn day

Legendary

Whether intentional or not, Miguel's Telemachus really sounds like a younger version of Jorge's Odysseus. And that hurts.

"If I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" The layers. Could he go out and hunt for his father? Could he find his 'legendary' strength within himself? Or will Odysseus be the 'monster' he finds?

"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength" And his call is answered T_T

20 years.

Antinous fully interrupts this bop. Rude.

Ayron sounds legitimately scary and Telemachus taking a stand is so O.O

Little Wolf

I wanna fight this guy. Love that Athena agrees. (The beat of the song and sharp bursts of vocals really emulate blows.)

The quaver on "I don't know how".

Athena is immediately charmed by Telemachus' enthusiasm. She sounds so fond.

The fact she sees heart in him as an advantage when it was Odysseus choosing heart over mind that drove them apart. Guh.

Did she tell him to bite Antinous? XD

"Oh, maybe I pushed you a bit too hard." The change in her perspective is already so apparent - she wouldn't have admitted a mistake or miscalculation to Odysseus.

We'll Be Fine

"I had a friend before..." A FRIEND? FRIEND?!?!

An admission that she didn't fully appreciate what Odysseus was going through, that she feels guilty for having "missed it all".

It's unclear to begin with if she's come to Telemachus for Odysseus, or to try and replace him. Both are equally heart-breaking.

"I don't know who your friend is, I don't know what he's like" UNKNOWINGLY ECHOING HIS OWN THOUGHTS IN 'LEGENDARY'. NO IT'S FINE I'M FINE.

"The best day of my life because I got in a fight and I didn't die! :D" Telemachus, child, please.

"We'll be fine" using the same run as "this is my goodbye" T_T

Him immediately offering up friendship to Athena, like Odysseus once did, must hit her so hard. "You're a good kid." Yes he is - because he's more like his dad than he knows.

Love in Paradise

"Old friend..." FRRRRRIIIIEEEENNNNNDDDDD!!!!!

10 years.

The memory fragments sounding so fraught and chaotic together, hitting harder because they're hitting Athena all at once. She missed a lot.

"She's my wife." "Anyways..." Calypso, girl, please.

Love that they're singing completely different melodies through the first half of this song for two reasons: because Odysseus is revisiting previous motifs, once more trying to hold onto the man he was, and also because it shows Calypso is not willing to compromise on what she wants.

"Last I checked goddesses can't die." We'll come back to this later.

Then Odysseus realises he is truly trapped and he sings along to Calypso's melody in muted horror.

POLITIES OUT HERE STILL HAUNTING THE NARRATIVE.

Just the words "open arms" are enough to confront Odysseus (again) with all he's lost. All he hears are screams.

And the one he screams out for is Athena.

"He needs my help." NO KIDDING GO GET YOUR BOY.

God Games

"Father, God, King..." There's a lot to unpack in that fun family dynamic.

"To untie apprehensions that were placed on that Greek?" Zeus is like, nobody likes that guy, why do you care?

The gods being called out like X Factor finalists is everything.

So there's a great contrast against the previous song - unlike Calypso, Athena is matching each of her singing partners with their tone and beat as she convinces them. She isn't winning by 'imposing her will', she's meeting them where they are.

Rational arguments work until Aphrodite, where Athena says "please" for the first time. She softens to appeal to Aphrodite, which is why Ares has to step in.

The way she says his name XD

Ares' lines sound like as much of a fighting chant as 'Little Wolf' did, which makes it all the better that the mention of Telemachus is what gets her to 'fight back'.

"His son's my friend!" YES HE IS. And Athena of all people declaring "a broken heart can mend" is fascinating. Can't help but wonder if she's talking about herself coming around to forgiving Odysseus.

"Never once has he cheated on his wife." Handwaving the source material is worth it for this line ALONE.

Zeus is so pressed by everyone openly knowing he cheats on Hera. Stop doing it then my dude.

Ares sounding genuinely concerned for Athena is doing things to me. Goddesses can't die, huh?

Her time motif flitting in and out like a weak heartbeat.

The soft piano of 'Warrior of the Mind', touching on a whisper of 'Legendary', then rising to a triumphant crescendo as Athena regains herself. I will be forever haunted by visions of Odysseus and Telemachus helping her to her feet.

And then, finally, she faces her own father and begs. Because Odysseus and Telemachus deserve a chance to be father and child.

The parallel, by the way, of Athena entering this saga to help an outnumbered Telemachus, and now closing it with him/Odysseus unknowingly helping her win her own battle too. JORGE HOW DARE YOU T_T

[lustspren]

D.A | The Way You Look Tonight ft Sullyoon, Haewon, Bae.

length: 19.2k words (short update btw) ✦

Male reader X Sullyoon, Haewon, Bae. 

🔙 Previous update | 📄 The Way You Look Tonight | 🔜 Next update.

tags: rough sex, bdsm, oral, ass eating, dirty talk, public sex, creampie, anal, shower sex, thighjob, assjob✧ 

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She hadn't done that. It was a figment of your imagination.

No, wait, yes she had. And in a very shameless way. What the fuck.

Sullyoon had told you, before going on stage, that she would do something that would be like a little wink towards you that she was sure you would love. You thought it would be some cute heart sign, or a literal wink at you. But no, the sassy little slut had pulled down the lace shorts she was wearing to her hips, so everyone could see her belly. She had them up after a few seconds, but it was enough for you to become feral.

You had clearly been left speechless. It's not like you have much to say, though; you were so horny that you needed something. Her. As fast as possible. You would miss part of the live performance, yes. But you could see it later, minor details.

Without attracting much attention you snuck out of sight of the staff members. The main building—not the front wing, the one just behind the stage— of Dankook University was quite big. There would almost certainly have to be some empty, remote room. For the love of God, so be it.

You searched through each of the four floors patiently. Unfortunately, the first three floors were busy enough that trying anything was impossible. But also much to your fortune, and almost like a divine gift, you found your holy grail at the end of a hallway on the top floor.

It was a large room with a high ceiling, full of unlit tubular lamps. As soon as you entered, you were greeted by the sight of an immense white wall in the background, with what appeared to be a projection screen rolled up from end to end. The tables were arranged in two rows on each side, each with four chairs. At the end of the aisle left by the seats, and in front of the white wall, was a single longer table with two chairs. It must have been a meeting room, or something like that. It would work more than fine.

Everything in there was taciturn, with enough light to know where everything was and not trip. But it was better that it remained that way; a single room with the lights on was going to raise suspicions much faster than you could imagine. You were lying if you didn't say it was kind of creepy. But the sound of the music, muffled and distant after passing through several layers of cement, somehow managed to counteract the spooky vibes.

You were forced to wait sitting in one of the two chairs at the back, probably dedicated to some dean or lecturer, but now used by a young man eager to fuck his girlfriend. You even took the liberty of making yourself comfortable, since you didn't know how long it would take Sully to get off the stage. So you put both feet up on the table and sank into the seat before pulling out your phone.

You wrote a message to Sully. One that she would see as soon as she picked up her phone when she saw that you weren't there when she got off stage. Simple and precise. About half an hour passed before you received a response.

Sully took longer than you expected to arrive. But you couldn't complain about it. She would surely have to comply with some protocol when leaving the stage, like taking off her in-ear headphones and all that complicated singer stuff. About fifteen more minutes had passed until she entered.

Seeing her face when she walked through the door and found the immense dark space was like a fun reflection of you. She had already noticed where you were since she set foot inside the room. But still, as she walked between the tables, she scrutinized each corner in case some evil spirit decided to assault her.

You just looked at her with a smile that denoted nothing more than pure love. That day she was carrying a couple more levels of spiciness. You could tell by the way she swayed her hips when she walked, and the confidence in which she did it. And how could you blame her? That sexy waist… those long, meaty legs… her tummy, hot as always… and damn, that messy dark hair.

It was fucking fascinating. A perfect sculpture of a woman. And yours.

"Daddy… wasn't there a scarier room?" She asked when she was a couple of meters away from you.

You took your feet off the table and rolled your chair back. Then you spread your legs, a clear signal for Sully to take a seat.

"I literally didn't find any other option, honey. I'm sorry." you said, as she walked around the table in front of you and went straight to sit on your lap, on the side of your left thigh.

Sully raised one thigh to rest it on top of yours, and she wrapped her arms around your neck. From that distance you could see how her body was still covered in a light layer of sweat, shining by the light of a bright street lamp outside. Damn, she looked so sexy you were going to explode.

She gave you a sly smile and kissed your cheek, then your jaw, and then a peck on your lips. You put one hand on her thigh and with the other you surrounded her waist.

"Well, if you made me come here for what I believe, I guess it doesn't matter," she whispered.

The memory came to your mind. Every detail about that moment when she almost made your jaw hit the floor.

"You're a sassy little slut, you know?" You raised an eyebrow, squeezing her thigh gently. "Pulling down your shorts? That's going a bit far."

You placed the hand you had on her thigh on her belly and slowly moved it up to rub the side of her torso. Sully stared at you, while she played with the hair on the back of your neck.

"But I'm wearing safety shorts underneath daddy… even like that?"

"Thousands of people saw you in just those safety shorts. I think that's quite a lot."

"It was only a couple of seconds!" she protested with a little smile. You smiled too, but you managed to hide it by bringing your face to her long neck to give her small kisses.

"Yeah but you already know how possessive I am of you…" you murmured against her skin, while rubbing her waist up and down.

You heard Sully give a small gasp, and she 'inadvertently' dropped her hand to rest on your cock. She didn't squeeze or grab anything, she just left it there. You put your hand on her thigh and rubbed it up and down, rubbing the back of your hand near her crotch.

"Daddy… but you know I made that just for you."

"And what did you want to cause?"

"Well…"

"Being fucked by me as soon as you got off that stage," you interrupted, placing deeper kisses on her neck, with small bites.

Sully moaned and finally squeezed your cock, in a gentle but also deep way. She then massaged it again and again until it started to get hard. You returned favors and stuck one hand directly inside her shorts and her safeties, until you reached her pussy and rubbed it with your fingers. Gently, up and down.

She turned her head, desperately searching for your lips, and you looked up to give them to her. You melted into a fiery, deep kiss. You stifled small moans inside each other's mouths, while you touched each other's intimacies. She melted just from your fingers, which had made her wet in less than a minute.

Your cock was already hard under your pants; Sully reached under them, to grab your shaft and surround it with her fine, soft fingers. She let out a louder moan and squeezed hard. She then separated from your lips, stood up, and with her eyes on you she took off her now surely famous lace shorts to leave them on the table. She was now only in her safeties when she sat on top of you again, this time straddling you.

With your girlfriend's thighs now on either side of your hips the groping intensified. First you wrapped your arms around her body, one behind her waist and the other across her back. You pressed her against you, feeling the warmth of her body against yours as you kissed.

Sully, with her hands on the sides of your neck, moved her hips back and forth, grinding against your hard bulge. You lowered your hands and placed them on her ass, squeezing each buttock firmly. The kiss then became a battle between your tongues, which swirled around each other.

After a few long seconds Sully separated from your lips and put her hands on your chest. Her breathing was heavy, and her cheeks were flushed, just like yours.

"Daddy… I'd love to suck your cock right now, but we don't have much time. I said I needed to go to the bathroom."

You let out a sigh, disappointed.

"It will have to wait, then."

"Do you want me to ride you as compensation?"

"I don’t even know why are you asking, baby," you nodded, and bit her bottom lip gently.

As soon as Sully got off you, you were already with your hands on the hem of your pants; you lowered them by raising your hips, including your boxers, to your ankles. Sully meanwhile did the same. She turned her back to you, and she pulled down her safeties and her panties to get both off her legs.

You and your girlfriend worked as a perfectly coordinated team: while you were spitting on your cock and making it very slippery, Sully had already taken a couple of steps back and had bent her knees to leave her ass floating above your cock, which you held straight so she only had to impale herself on it.

"Mmmm…" Sully moaned softly, as she slowly lowered her ass until it rested against your pelvis, your cock now hidden between her butt cheeks.

Your girlfriend's pussy felt as silky and tight as ever. You growled, hands gripping her waist. She rested her hands on your knees, and turned to look at you with an amazing movement of her hair, which left it all in front of her left shoulder. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, just as she started moving her ass up and down.

You squeezed Sully's waist between your fingers, teeth clenched and your toes curled inside your shoes. She bit her lip and left her mouth ajar, her moans soon twisting her face until a few seconds later she was unable to hold your gaze.

She bounced faster and harder, and the sound of her flesh slapping against yours reverberated through the large, once silent room. Added to that were Sully's moans, and also the two spanks you gave to her left buttock. Her shiny hair looked very tempting to pull, but you'd do it a different way.

You let Sully bounce as much as she wanted on your cock, but when you thought she had enough of it, you made her stop and stood up with her, taking her in front of the table and bending her over it. She looked at you over her shoulder, her hands resting on the cold surface and her stomach flat against it.

"Is daddy going to punish me for being too much of a slut?" she asked, not with her puppy dog eyes, but with those bold, sharp, piercing eyes.

Sully had become like that over time. Spicy. Naughty. It wasn't like you were complaining about it, quite the opposite: it was a plus that you didn't know you needed in her until it just started happening. You definitely had to thank Chaeyoung's influence, and maybe a little bit of Yeseo’s and Jiheon’s. That trio of demons had transformed Sully into a monster.

"And what if I only enhance how much of a slut you are thanks to that?" you asked back, one hand kneading and squeezing her buttocks as you rested balls deep inside her.

She giggled and thought about it for a moment, before looking into your eyes again.

"Then you can punish me again… and again, and again. Until I stop being a sassy slut."

You chuckled.

"I see no way that could happen, darling."

You gave her a single hard pump, which made her let out a moan.

"Great. That way I can be daddy's sex doll all the time… and without getting tired."

Oh, my God. She outdid herself this time. That deserved that you do it too, no less.

The first instinct you had, this time yes, was to grab a handful of her hair and pull it back to arch her back. Then you started fucking her, fast, hard and without any shame because of the noise you were making.

Sully also showed no shame for looking as horny as you were. She moaned, grunted, and muttered all kinds of curses to herself while you hammered her pussy from behind. At one point she slammed her open palm on the table, so hard it sounded like a small explosion.

"Punish me daddy! Hard! As hard as you want to!" she whimpered, and you complied with her request, giving each buttock a spicy spank with squeeze included.

Having made sure that your hands had been marked in red on her buttocks, you gave another tug on her hair so that she could lift her body. Then you quickly grabbed her neck and shoulder and pressed your chest and back together.

From there you were able to fill the side of Sully's face with kisses and bites. Your fingers clung tightly to her neck as you pumped as hard as you could, not afraid to split her in half. She turned her face and met your lips, instantly capturing them to muffle moans against them.

You used your other arm to wrap around her belly and feel that soft flesh for a moment. Then you lowered your hand and reached for her pussy, to rub her clit as best as you could between all the shakes. Sully stopped kissing you and left her mouth slightly open, brushing against yours. She was unable to make coherent sounds, paralyzed with pleasure.

You were staring into each other's eyes when she flinched and a sudden spasm signaled that she was cumming. Sully grabbed onto your right wrist with both hands and squeezed it, finally letting out a deep, savage growl that showed how delighted she was.

She tensed against your body and dug her nails into your wrist, moving somewhat messily against your cock. You only waited a few seconds, between slow pumps, to get out of her and grab her by the waist and turn her around.

As if she were able to read your mind, the first thing she did—without you telling her—was sit on the edge of the table and spread her legs wide for you. Her pretty pussy, soaked and perfectly shaved, at your mercy. The idea of falling to your knees and eating her out was very appealing. But it was going to be a big delay for her, so you defeated your intrusive thoughts that time.

"I feel like I haven't been punished enough daddy…" Sully said, a few strands of hair stuck to her face. "Is that all you fucking have for me?"

You let out an incredulous giggle and shook your head. She sounded exactly like Shuhua. Bad examples everywhere.

"Shut your mouth and don't poke me with the stick, Seol Yoonah," you raised a finger in warning, and then you settled between her legs to leave your cock resting on her lower abdomen.

There was a silence between the two of you. You just stared at each other.

"Or-what?" she finally said, defiantly.

You sighed.

Very well, you should give her what she wanted, then. You raised one hand and gave her such a slap that her face was turned to one side, and her hair covered that side. Sully let out a groan and smiled. Before she could say anything, you grabbed your cock and guided it back into her pussy.

Whatever she was going to say was replaced with a cute squeal. She looked into your eyes, still with that damn victorious smile on her face. It wasn't until you started pumping in and out, and you gave her another slap, that her smile turned into a sexy grimace of pleasure.

"Let it be clear that you asked for it."

You reached behind her back, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and pulled it back so that her neck was as exposed as possible for you to kiss while you fucked her.

"I'm not saying otherwise…" she moaned as you filled every corner of her neck with saliva. "I would do it again."

"What a fucking whore you've become, huh?" you growled, and bit her jaw.

"So what?" She put a hand on the back of your neck and tangled her fingers in strands of your hair. "Daddy loves it… and I love being daddy's little whore."

You growled and let go of her hair to stand up straight, grab her waist with an iron grip and hammer her pussy without any mercy. Sully was a good girl and kept her legs spread wide, even between moans and crashes.

You had your teeth clenched, crazy about the way you made her face twist. That girl was the living representation of duality in people: for most of the time she was an innocent little angel, worthy of being kept in a little glass box. But mother of god, now, when she was getting fucked, she was like the hottest porn actress.

"D-Daddy?"

"Yes darling?" you managed to say.

"Can I swallow your load? Mmmh!" she asked between whimpers. "I want to have it in my mouth… please!"

Of course that was like plugging a USB killer directly into your brain. You could no longer keep your mind distracted to last more, no matter how much that was your goal. Words like those, coming out of her mouth at a moment like that, were like a spell that was impossible to repel.

"Get off," you ordered.

You pulled out of her pussy and Sully jumped off the table. She instantly fell to her knees in front of your cock, the tip of which she put inside her mouth to jerk your shaft as fast as she could. This led to an orgasm that made you moan out loud.

You shot stream after stream of thick cum into your girlfriend’s mouth, who had dispensed with the use of her hand; now only moving her mouth across your cock in a slow and sensual blowjob that had the sole objective of draining your balls.

She watched you at all times, even when she gave you the most mind-blowing deepthroat, with no gag reflex or even a single god damn hint of it. This time you had to thank Yeseo. That little nympho whore.

When nothing else came out of your cock, Sully pulled you out of her mouth with a loud slurp. She then stuck out her tongue so you could see how she had swallowed it all, and it had been a considerable load.

"Fuck… and you don't even deserve it," you gasped, brushing Sully's hair out of her face.

"I'll have to share you later, daddy," she replied as she placed affectionate kisses down your shaft. "Not with one but two more people. It seems like a fair way to make it up to me."

You sighed, looked into nothingness and gave up looking for an answer.

"Yeah, you're right. But you don't deserve it."

"Oh come on daddy, relax a little," she jumped to her feet and showered your face with kisses. "I'm always a good girl… but well, today I wanted to tease you."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Slut. Sassy slut."

Sully smiled from ear to ear.

"Only yours. Are you going to complain?"

"Not in the least. Now come on, get dressed, we have to go."

Sully obeyed and hurried to get dressed just like you. She fixed herself as best she could, but there was still a small trace of red on her cheek where you had given her the first slap. She would find a convincing excuse, she always did. But Haewon would probably be the first to connect the dots; she was formidable at it.

"You go first, I'll go wait in the car," you said behind her, as you combed her hair the best you could.

"You're sure?" she asked, looking ahead. "Don't you want to say goodbye to the girls? Jiwoo will kill you for not doing so."

"I'll submit to her judgment later," you turned her around and gave her hair the finishing touches. "But even arriving minutes after you is very suspicious."

"Do you really think no one knows what we do?" she raised an eyebrow.

"No one knows we did it just now. You said you were going to the bathroom, and I just disappeared."

"But you left without saying anything before I got off the stage, right?"

Shit.

"Uh… yeah."

"Then it's the same thing. It's just as suspicious," she raised two knuckles and tapped you on the forehead.

"Um… whatever. I'm not going to put up with Lily's teasing today."

Sully shrugged and shook her head.

"As you wish, daddy," she snuggled into your chest and gave you a loving kiss. "I'll see you in an hour, maybe less."

"Count on it, my love," you nodded, and after placing a kiss on her forehead, Sully turned away and headed for the exit.

Waiting in your car was no bother to you; you were so proud of it and of yourself that you took advantage of any slightest excuse to use it.

That Purosangue was an exact copy of the one you had rented that time in Milan to hang out with Hanni: black chrome on the outside, only with cream-colored interior upholstery. Ordering it to be brought to Korea had been almost as expensive as the damn car; it was only possible thanks to a couple of good investments you had made last year. And yet, you were still recovering financially from that purchase.

But it was already yours, it was already there. And damn, you were happier than a kid in a toy store.

You knew that the supposed waiting hour that Sully had promised would be longer, so as soon as you sank into the car seat, you took out a jar of Pringles from a bag in the back seat and opened a live video on Instagram to chat with your followers. The number of spectators rose at an alarming rate; at that point, an hour and a few minutes later, you had about 9k.

"Bro where you at…" you read among the comments. It was a question you expected, since you had the lights inside off and the only thing visible about your face was thanks to the university light. "I'm in my car, uhm… waiting."

You put a chip in your mouth and continued reading.

"Waiting for what?" you read again. "Death. My Italian ass has always wanted to die inside a Ferrari."

Laughter after laughter in the comments. You did your best to stay serious and make it even funnier.

"I don't know what you're laughing about, I'm serious."

You looked to the left, towards the covered parking lot where the girls were supposed to appear at any moment. It was the most discreet option possible, since it was not a very busy area at that time and that specific building was the furthest from all the crowds.

"Dude, who is that girl in your backseat?" you read, and your eyes widened as you turned around and slammed the phone down, by pure reflex. There was no one. For a moment you thought that, for some reason, one of the girls had somehow sneaked into the car. But it was a joke. "Bro, oh my god I'm gonna ban you… oh no, right, this is Instagram."

The live was filled with comments from people curious about why you had covered the camera so quickly. You didn't read any out loud. One in particular said: 'This dude has a girlfriend who doesn't want to show on camera.' Close, pretty close.

"Do your gossiping asses want to know the truth? Aight, I have a famous girlfriend and if I show her I’m gonna be in serious trouble, what's the matter?"

You read for a few seconds, and the truth was that you were making an inhuman effort not to laugh.

"A From Software fan getting hoes? Good joke brother, try better," you read, and a smile escaped your lips. Thank god you had a chromosome graveyard as a chat. "But I’m handsome as fuck!" you protested. "Still From Software fan," you clicked your tongue. "Aight bro."

Another fifteen minutes passed where you were discussing random things with the chat. That day you weren't particularly willing to give a serious opinion about anything, so you were just contradicting everyone for fun.

"Bro, there's no way you're going to make me say non-ironically that Dark Souls 2 is a good game."

Something new in your peripheral vision made you look away from the screen to look to the left. Three people emerged from the parking lot, wrapped in heavy coats and caps that covered their eyes. It was them.

"Alright, bunch of virgins, I have to go, fuck y’all. Have a nice night," you showed the middle finger to the camera and ended the live.

You were in a pretty bad posture for your back, so as you straightened up in your seat you let out a moan worthy of an old man. One of the girls, probably Haewon because of her height—or the lack of it—, had seen you and burst out laughing as she walked around the car front.

The girl opened the passenger door, and when you saw her eyes you confirmed that it was Haewon.

"Were you doing yoga or what?" she asked, sitting in the passenger seat, while Bae and Sully took the back seats. She then took off her cap and leaned to kiss your cheek.

"I had to get comfortable while I waited for you, woman."

You pressed the touch button on the steering wheel and started the car.

"I couldn't even see you until you decided to sit up straight, oppa," Bae said from behind, followed by a chuckle from Sully. "Is your back okay?"

"Fuck, I'd love to say yes," you sighed, looking down the street, and turned right to circle the campus. "Did something happen? You took longer than I expected."

Haewon also took off her coat, underneath it she was wearing the same pants that she wore for the stage, but on top instead of the college sweater she was only wearing a white, tight-fitting crop top with thin straps. In the rearview mirror you noticed that Sully and Bae had done the same.

"Oh you know, trying to convince manager-nim," she said, as if it were a trivial thing. "It was a little tougher this time. We have more university festivals over the next few days."

"Another tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," the three of them said in unison, in an exhausted tone.

"What time should I take you tomorrow, then?" you asked, finally leaving the university campus behind.

"At two in the afternoon," Haewon replied as she looked at her phone.

"Aight, we have time to relax a little then."

"Well, I don't know about you," Bae said. "But as soon as I arrive I'll take a shower and go straight to bed."

"Why are you so boring!" Sully complained. "We were going to play Monopoly!"

"It'll only be a couple of hours! I'm exhausted."

"Well, you'll have to sleep with the AirPods on because…" Haewon began, but she left the sentence hanging in the air.

You smiled, already knowing what she meant. But you looked out the window as you stopped at a traffic light.

"Huh? What do you mean by that?" Bae asked.

"I think you better listen to her," Sully said with a chuckle.

"That's how loud you are playing Monopoly?"

You and Haewon looked at each other. She couldn't hold back her laughter and turned to look at Bae.

"We're not going to play Monopoly," she said.

"Wait, we won't?" Sully said.

"Oh my god…" you mumbled to yourself, in disbelief.

"I mean, yeah. But you know, we wanted to play something else."

“Ahhhh…” you saw Sully nod out of the corner of your eye as you looked out the window. "True, true."

There was silence between the four of you. Now only the low noise of the radio could be heard, which you were forced to turn up a little. The light turned green, so you started again. Haewon stared at her phone, and Sully had pulled out her iPad, where you heard she was playing Minecraft.

"Ohhh!" Bae said, breaking the silence, as if she had discovered a secret of the universe. "You're gonna have sex!"

Haewon locked her phone and closed her eyes with a deep breath. You remained expressionless, and swallowed, short of words to say. Sully on the other hand dropped the iPad on the mat under her feet.

"Am I invited?" she asked, and there was another silence.

Haewon opened her eyes and looked at you. You shrugged. You had never fucked with Bae, mostly because you had never fooled around like that unlike with Lily or Jiwoo. But that night could be a perfect chance.

"I’m cool with it," you said. "But those decisions go through Sullyoonie first."

Well, most of them. Some others went through Chaeyoung, others through Hanni, and others through Jiheon. Few things were your direct responsibility. Like when days ago, Lily gave you so many signs that she wanted to get fucked bu you that you gave in to her Australian charm, to which you were already weak.

"Yeah, why not? It'll be fun," said Sully, whose view you knew was on the iPad screen and not on you.

"Yay!" Bae said.

“The only thing you need to know is that I…” Haewon started to say.

"But I still decline the offer. I want to sleep," Bae interrupted.

Haewon closed her eyes again and took another deep breath. You raised your eyebrows and brought a hand to your forehead. Bae knew how to get you off your nerves, but this time she had taken it as a challenge.

"You try to get in and I'll kick you out, Bae Jinsol," Sully warned seconds later, in a low but threatening voice.

"And I'm going to moan so loud that you'll have to go out on the balcony," Haewon said.

"No, because I'll have the AirPods on."

You couldn't help but giggle as you shook your head. Haewon glared at you, so you had to cover your mouth and hold back your smile.

"Alright, all three of you shut your mouths," you said, and looked in the rearview mirror. As you expected, Sully was staring at her iPad, while Bae, sitting in the middle, just looked at both sides of the street. "We have an hour left on the trip so, enjoy the music."

What better option than playing DAMN? That's what you did, after asking Haewon for help to take your phone and connect it to the car herself. Then you could focus on driving.

The rest of the trip was more than peaceful: you and Haewon vibed to every song on the album and sang some verses together. You just didn't sing during PRIDE; it reminded you of your night with Hanni in Milan, probably one of the most fulfilling moments of your life. The lyrics didn't go with her or with you, but it was common to associate songs with people for random reasons. That was Hanni's.

Who by the way, was now a cute femboy. My god. The things you were going to do.

Bae asked for the name of some songs. Sully, well. Sully kept playing Minecraft until you arrived in Seongsu-dong, where you had now lived since October of last year. The apartment wasn't yours yet; you paid it in installments thanks to a mortgage loan, which you estimated you could pay in full by the middle of next year if you managed to close a sponsorship deal that this company had offered you less than a week ago.

After considerable floors in the elevator and walking through a small corridor, you finally arrived at your place. The first thing you saw when you opened the door was a small hallway, with two doors on each side: one was a small closet that you used to dry clothes and the other was your laundry room.

Once you crossed the hallway you finally found the big elegant space, made up mostly of the living room, located to the left, and the dining table and the kitchen, right in front of you. The smell of sandalwood essence, emanated from your air freshener, immediately delighted your nostrils.

The room walls were white, while the corridor ones were made of dark oak wood. The countertops, and the kitchen in general, were made of a beautiful polished marble that blended perfectly with the gray floor. In the living room, the furniture was mostly gray and others were brown, color also present in some cushions and various decorations.

The place was everything you ever wanted in a house. It was cozy and elegant, with a color palette that had you in love and a considerable number of windows arranged along the entire wall. You had left the blinds open, so the first thing you did was go to close them.

"Ahhh!" Bae squealed, blurting out all of her stuff in front of the hallway, "Hi Rory!"

Rory was the gorgeous ragdoll cat that you had adopted thanks to Chaeyoung's idea a year ago. Bae had run to hug her and shower her with kisses. She was a quiet and lazy cat; she wasn't exactly affectionate, but she didn't avoid contact with humans either. She didn't care at all, basically.

But she wasn't the only furry being in your house at the time.

"Helios!" Sully greeted as she headed towards the other hallway, the one that led to the bedrooms.

Helios, on the other hand, was a toyger cat. You had also adopted him thanks to Chaeyoung, who didn't have to put much effort into convincing you since you were a cat lover before. He, unlike Rory, loved physical affection, a constant demander of attention and pampering. Although he was significantly dumber.

Sully bent down to pet him and disappeared into the hallway, probably to leave her things in your room.

"Bae Jinsol!" Haewon called, setting her things down on the dining room table. "Pick up your things!"

Bae suddenly turned and looked at her things scattered on the floor, then looked at you, who stood close to her as you closed the blinds of the window in the corner.

"Don't look at me," you shrugged. "She rules when she gets here."

"But it's your house!"

You backed away from the corner and walked to the kitchen, passing Haewon.

"Yeah, I know. But tell that to her."

Bae looked at Haewon, who stared at her without a hint of softness in her eyes. Bae didn't even question her, it was useless. She just stood up and went to pick up her things without saying a word.

“I thought so,” Haewon nodded, satisfied, and she stood next to you as you looked into the fridge for food. She put her hand on your waist and rested her cheek on your arm. "You come with me?"

"Where to?" You took out a plate with a slice of pizza that you had left over from lunch that day.

"To take a shower, of course," she replied, lowering her voice.

"Will you let me eat first?"

"Will you eat my ass later?"

You smiled and looked over your shoulder to make sure Bae was distracted, then you wrapped your arm around Haewon's waist and squeezed her ass.

"Bet."

Haewon bit her lip and turned to look back with an amused expression. You removed your hand from her ass.

"Hey, charred brains!" she called out to Bae, who turned around. She was now sitting next to Rory. "Weren't you going to take a shower?"

"Ah, yeah," Bae nodded, and she stood up to grab her bag. "Oppa, can I use the bathtub?" she asked you.

"Aha. Just make sure you empty it later, please."

"Understood!"

She gave Rory one last caress and disappeared down the same hallway Sully had walked down just minutes ago.

You were left alone with Haewon, who went to lean on the counter behind you, hands on the edge as she watched you. You closed the fridge, left the plate with the slice of pizza on the counter next to the sink and turned to her.

"Aren't you gonna go wait for me in the shower?" You stood in front of her. Your eyes remained fixed.

"Come here and kiss me first, I deserve it for having to deal with that girl every day."

You took another step forward and pressed yourself against her. Then cupped her face in your hands and smashed your lips together without hesitation.

Few pairs of lips were as pleasant to kiss as Haewon's. They were fluffy and thick, with a hazelnut aftertaste thanks to her lip balm, and boy did she know how to use them. You liked that she was always in control when you kissed, since she always knew when to make it slower and more passionate or more disastrous and fiery.

On that occasion, the situation warranted that you taste each other as quickly as possible, so your heads went from side to side in the middle of a wild kiss that was anything but discreet and silent.

You put an arm around her waist and with a little effort you lifted her onto the counter, then she clung to your neck with her arms and your torso with her strong thighs. You grabbed one of her breasts, and with a muffled moan against your lips she reached down to give your cock a squeeze.

"Ezio-oppa, where do you keep the…" Bae said, again from the hallway. She didn't finish the sentence as you abruptly separated from Haewon, whose pale cheeks were now red. "Incense… Not even five minutes oh my god!"

"Uh…" you looked at the ceiling, reorganizing your thoughts. "Inside the sink mirror," you finally answered, still staring up.

"Very well, thank you," she looked at Helios, who was lying on the side of a single couch in the living room. "Helios, come on! Don't watch those things."

You didn't expect Helios to truly obey her, but he did. He followed Bae down the hallway. Rory, on the other hand, had fallen asleep on the couch.

You and Haewon looked at each other.

"Go wait for me in the shower, please," you begged. "If we keep going I'll fuck you right here."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"I'm hungry, woman," you gestured towards the plate of pizza.

Haewon brought her hands to her jeans button and undid them, then leaned back on the counter and with a lift of her hips she took them off. She settled on the surface and spread her legs wide, exposing her slit, covered by white panties from which a tiny wet spot peeked out.

"Haewon…"

"And don't you fancy an entry?" She asked, grabbing her panties to pull them aside and show you her pretty pink pussy.

Your gaze stayed there where Haewon ran two fingers up and down between her folds. You also looked at her thighs and buttocks, both worthy of a volleyball player. All that was left was for her to take off her top and release those pair of perfect round tits that you swore to God didn't stop growing. Still, that was enough to make you give in. Damn woman.

"I'll accept the entrance," you sighed, and stepped forward to replace her hand with yours. "But you'll have to wait for the shower for the main attraction."

You knelt between Haewon's legs, her pussy now inches from your face. Foreplay wasn't necessary, and you didn't want to do it either. So without a second thought you clung to her thighs and buried your mouth in her folds.

“Mmm…” she moaned, stroking your hair as you ran your tongue up and down. "It's funny how easily you always fall for this trick."

"You better shut your mouth before I leave you like this," you said softly, tasting Haewon's pussy more hungrily each time.

She gave your hair a little tug and then continued caressing it, in a rather affectionate way.

"I doubt you want to do that…" she gasped between labored breaths.

"Do not challenge me."

You became more frantic with your licking and sucking, but that led to Haewon becoming louder, which you didn't know how much you cared since there was actually nothing to hide. Maybe it was a matter of protecting the only bit of decorum that you thought you had left, but the reality was that it had all disappeared the first moment you lost your fear of fucking in public places.

Besides, what was the worst that could happen? If Sully came out to see what was happening, she would end up joining anyway. But it was kind of difficult for that to happen. She was probably in your bed, in the exact same clothes she was wearing when she arrived while she played on her iPad. Bae, on the other hand, would already be in the bathtub and you knew she didn't give a damn.

So well, you let Haewon moan as much and as loud as she wanted while you ate her out.

You loved eating her pussy as much as kissing her lips. That's how you let her know every time you did it, letting out soft moans of satisfaction at how delicious it was.

But damn, pizza with sausage, ham and peppers was also exquisite. And your stomach was growling.

"Alright sweetie, let's do this quickly," you said, licking your lips. Then you stood up.

Haewon looked at you with a furrowed brow and was about to protest, but you were quicker and kissed her immediately. She was also about to protest in the middle of the kiss, but then you took your middle and ring fingers inside her pussy.

She let out a whimper against your lips and clutched at your hoodie with one hand, then she crumpled it with a tug as your fingers made their way between her tight walls.

“That's cheating…” she gasped against your lips. "Damn cheater."

"I'm preparing you for when I'm going to fuck your brains out in the shower… how ungrateful."

Without giving her time to take a breath you pumped at a gradually faster and faster pace. Your fingers slid smoothly, soaked in Haewon's glistening fluids. Soon the sound of your palm constantly colliding with her crotch reverberated through the room, as did her loud moans.

Haewon let her head fall back, still clinging to your hoodie as if it were the only thing capable of keeping her in place. You put your free arm around her, and watched her grimace and squirm.

"Please take your cock out and put it inside me!" she asked with a whimper. "Don’t make me wait!"

"Fuck woman, can't you be a little patient?" you asked quietly, and raised an eyebrow. You pumped fast and hard, intensifying the wet sound of her pussy.

"I don't want to be patient, I want you to fill my pussy!" she said with a punch to your chest.

"Shhh… cum, love, come on."

No matter how rude Haewon pretended to be, it was adorable how that combination of words always worked. Like a magical spell of those that Sullyoon applied on you against your will. Haewon closed her thighs around your wrist, which felt like being caught in two hydraulic presses at maximum power. And with a squeal she let herself be carried away by her orgasm.

"Mmmhhh!! Son of a bitch!" she screamed, frustrated, in the midst of intense spasms that you were responsible for keeping at bay with your grip.

"Yeah yeah…" you nodded, making an effort to continue moving your wrist, since it was surrounded by two pieces of muscular flesh.

"I'm not letting you out of that damn shower until you've filled every damn hole in me," she growled, and you knew she meant business.

"Anything you want, cutie. But I want my pizza first."

Haewon closed her eyes and pursed her lips. Her orgasm passed after a few seconds, and only then she did release your wrist.

You didn't know how hard she was really squeezing until you felt how your blood rushed normally to your hand. What a menace of a woman.

"Come on, clean up."

You took your fingers out of her and brought them to her mouth. Haewon accepted them with obvious annoyance, but she didn't complain as she sucked them hard in a taste of her own fluids. When you took your fingers out, they were perfectly clean.

"What makes you think you can order me around?"

You stepped back and let her get off the counter. You turned your back on her and went to the other counter to grab the plate of pizza.

"Go wait for me in the shower, Oh Haewon," you purposely ordered without looking at her, and went to the microwave.

There was no response from her, instead, from the corner of your eye you saw how she reluctantly grabbed her jeans and walked straight towards the hallway. Thank God. Now it was just you with your slice of pizza, which you heated up and ate accompanied by a Pepsi.

You were patient, maybe too patient, with that little alone time you had once Haewon went to the shower. You sat on the large L-shaped sofa for about five minutes. Next to you, a dozing Rory purred when you placed a hand on her back to caress her.

Haewon would probably be mad at you by now for taking so long. But if you were about to be drained by what was probably one of the best asses in the industry and certainly the best pair of thighs, you had to mentally prepare yourself. Because damn, that woman could be pretty intense sometimes.

Besides, you wanted to see a tripleS stage. You were quite in that group for the last few days, and you had a pending video to watch. A couple of them caught your attention, and you had understood from things you had heard and read, that they would be at the Korea University festival tomorrow. The same where NMIXX and NewJeans would perform. Maybe…?

No, you already had enough with all the girls that were in your life, which were not few. The most sensible thing was to be grateful for all the incredible luck you had for a year now and not try to squeeze the handkerchief even more. You didn't want to become a womanizer.

Above all, it was incredibly self-centered and reprehensible thinking for you to believe that where you put your eye you could put the bullet.

The fact that it had worked so far was a matter of, once again, pure luck: you and the girls were mostly a fuck buddy relationship, like it could happen with Yeseo, Shuhua or Rei. They all knew their position and had no emotional bond with you beyond a simple friendship.

Then there were those you considered friends with benefits, a group that included Dani, or Jiheon, or Sumin, or Haewon herself. With them the relationship wasn’t that different since sex was something common, but you did have an emotional bond with them; they were real friends, and you loved them.

Still, very few of those relationships had been born as a whim of yours alone. The rest had been thanks to Sully, Chaeyoung—better known as Lee Isa— and Hanni. Your three babies. Your three loves. They were far from being just friends; there were very strong feelings involved.

You didn't have to push your luck any further. Just no. But those tripleS girls… good lord.

Okay, enough. You were going to let whatever had to happen happen. You weren't going to force anything or play with fire.

You had been deep in your thoughts, and checking the time on your phone you realized that it had been over 20 minutes since Haewon had gone to the shower.

Of course she didn't take long to call you. It wasn't necessary to answer, you just left the phone on the couch and ran to your room. You weren't surprised to find Sully face down on your bed, in her panties and sports bra. Now she was playing Genshin Impact. Next to her was Helios, licking his paw to run it over his head.

You looked to the left. The tall black glass wall that separated the bedroom from the bathroom was closed. Behind would be Bae, having probably the most peaceful moment of the day in the bathtub, music in her ears and incense burning.

You turned to Sully, who hadn't noticed your presence yet since the door was open.

You cleared your throat and leaned your shoulder against the door frame.

"Honey, are you coming?"

“Uh…” Sully took a few seconds to put the iPad down and look at you. "Where, daddy?"

"To the bathroom, with me and Haewon."

"Oh…" she looked thoughtful, then grimaced. "No, I'm exhausted and I don't feel like it anymore for today. I'm sorry daddy."

You smiled and nodded, understanding.

"Nothing to be sorry about, dear," you walked over to the bed, knelt on the edge of it, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, shoulder, and forehead. "But for the love of God, put on some clothes, or take a shower, I don't know."

"But Bae is using the bathroom!" she objected.

“Bae is using the bathtub,” you corrected. "Not the shower."

"That is the same!"

"Of course not. You can use the shower while she uses the bathtub."

"But-"

"She's seen you naked before, hasn't she?"

"Yes but…" she looked at her iPad and groaned. "Ugh, fine."

Sully reluctantly stood up and went to the glass wall. You stood up too, as Haewon was calling you again.

"Don't be a brat, you weren't going to sleep with me without taking a bath."

"You weren't going to sleep with me without taking a bath," she imitated you in a silly voice, then she stuck her tongue out at you and slid the glass just enough for her to get in without you looking inside.

What bad influences did. Sully was full of them.

You let out a long breath and, before Haewon went out to find you herself, you went to the guest bathroom.

It was considerably smaller than the main bathroom, with the sink just in front of the entrance, the toilet to the right, and the shower to the left. Inside it you found Haewon, already completely naked in the shower, with the phone in her hand. She had removed her extensions, and her short hair was held to the sides of her head by two clips.

And she wasn’t happy. Not at all.

"Haessal…"

'Haessal' was the pet name you had for Haewon. It was the closest thing to a Korean translation of 'Sunshine'. Besides, it was like a cute modification of her real name.

"Haessal my ass," she said as you closed the door behind you. "Come here, Ezio Leone."

You nodded and looked down. You undressed as quickly as you could, but Haewon's gaze burning into your skin made you nervous and you almost crashed into the wall on the right. You cleared your throat to hide your embarrassment, and once naked you went into the shower with her.

"There was no reason for you to spend twenty-five minutes out there," she said, and turned her back on you to slide the glass closest to the sink to leave her phone there. Then closed it again.

You took a step forward, which in that small space left you with your body pressed against hers. Your cock against her round ass. Haewon turned her head and glared at you, as the water from the shower fell between her body and yours.

"I was spending some time with my daughter, woman, can you blame me?"

You surrounded Haewon's body with your two arms, one of them just below her breasts, which you raised a little. The tight hug made the water fall on the back of your neck, but also that you could now feel almost every corner of her against you. Then, you started kissing her neck.

"Liar. I could hear Girls Never Die from here," she said, cold as ice despite your attempts to melt her.

"It was just the song, I was petting Rory."

"You're lying again. I could hear the stage fanchants."

You let out a sigh and gave up, your face buried in her neck.

"Very well, if you insist so much."

With one arm around her abdomen you exchanged positions: she was now on the side of the wall opposite the shower, which now fell on your back. As upset as she seemed, she didn't put up any resistance when you placed a hand on her neck and forced her to bend forward, her hands resting on the ceramic wall.

You got on your knees behind her, her round, firm, perfect ass inches from your face. Having that view was like seeing one of the seven wonders of the world, especially if you looked down a little further and found those beefy thighs ready to be made to tremble.

You didn't make her wait much longer. You grabbed her buttocks, one in each hand, and spread them apart to bury your face between them. You directly attacked her butthole with your tongue, which made Haewon tense up and let out a gasp that you knew was originally a moan, but in her desire to appear cold, she had hidden it.

Let it be a challenge, then. You loved challenges.

Not only did you lick and kiss Haewon's butthole, you also went down every few seconds to lick her pussy, between her folds, and inside her. You squeezed her buttocks, which transformed into two anti-stress masses with a smooth surface and spongy texture. You spanked one of them, and the drops of water on it splashed on you.

"You're cheating again…" she gasped, and you could hear a hint of a moan. "Don't you know any other method to calm me down?"

"I know several," you replied, now working with greater eagerness on her butthole. "But then we'd get cheesy, and right now I just want to fuck the anger out of you."

"Then fucking do it, coward," she snapped.

You spanked her again, harder, hoping she would shut her mouth once and for all. To your surprise she let out a whimper, muffled against her pursed lips. You continued the licks around, against and into her butthole for a few more seconds. But soon your cock felt painfully hard.

You stood up, spit on your hand and brought it to your cock to lubricate it. Then you held Haewon's waist with your left hand, while with the other you guided your tip to her pussy to sink into it with a single slow motion.

"Mmmgh yes!" she moaned loudly, and bit her lower lip hard. "Fucking finally."

If someone told you that even Haewon's pussy was muscular inside you would have believed it without many questions. You gasped, delighting in how extraordinarily good the softness and warmth of her walls felt wrapped around your cock, which was now completely inside her.

"This was what you wanted, wasn't it?" You growled, placing your free hand on her waist as well. "Now moan for me, you tough bitch."

Haewon's pussy was already well lubricated thanks to her own fluids, which meant that you could slide in and out of her without any resistance. That allowed you to hammer her hard and mercilessly right from the start.

She couldn't hold back any longer and finally grimaced, moaning with each frantic thrust that took your cock completely in and out of her. The sound of her firm flesh colliding against yours rang out over the falling water, and reverberated between the walls of the small bathroom.

"Do you think that damn wonderful ass is for decoration?" she asked, looking at it as you make it jiggle with each crash. "Spank it, squeeze it! Hmmgh!"

Complying with such a request was mandatory. But maybe you had gotten a little carried away, since once the first spank fell, you continued again and again. Haewon moaned at first, but with the last few those moans turned into screams of pleasure. You didn't stop until those beautiful buttocks were so red that they looked like they were about to bleed at any moment.

With the spanks covered, you dedicated yourself to squeeze and massage her buttocks, which had to intensify the itch generated by the burning on her skin. You didn't mind, and neither did she, since she was enjoying it even more than you.

You left one hand on her left buttock and brought the other to her hair. It was a shame it wasn't as long as before, but that didn't stop you from grabbing a good handful of it and pulling back.

"Oh my god keep going! You're gonna make me cum so hard!" Haewon screeched, as you pumped without a small hint of exhaustion.

Haewon pursed her lips and wrinkled her forehead, frozen in what were the seconds before her orgasm. She exploded with just a few more thrusts, and slammed the side of her fist into the wall with a grunt.

But you didn't slow down; you fucked her through her orgasm. You grabbed one of her thighs and made her lift her leg, which you held in the air below her knee. Haewon's body was now slightly sideways, allowing you to watch her pair of wet tits bounce again and again.

She was no longer moaning, now she was whimpering. When she opened her eyes to look at you you could see tears in them. Perfect. Did she not want to be railed? May she reap what she sowed in you.

"Are you gonna fill my pussy, you fucking liar?" she growled with a hand on your chest, looking at you with eyes overflowing with lust. "I think you should hurry up. I'm crazy about draining those balls with my mouth too."

You gritted your teeth and groaned in pleasure. You hugged Haewon's thigh with both arms, clinging to it like a koala to a branch. She stretched even further, putting her ankle over your shoulder to rest it there. Now, with that posture worthy of a ballerina, you had the perfect angle to make you enter the final stretch.

Haewon went back to whining. Between that dirty talk towards you she hadn’t realized that another orgasm was just around the corner, because while you destroyed her pussy with fast and strong thrusts, she came again.

She put a hand to her mouth and let out another grunt of pure pleasure, her eyes rolled back. The visual input of her twisted face, the way her thigh trembled under your arms, and the suffocating grip of her pussy were more than enough to make you explode inside her.

"Ughhh!" you growled, resting balls deep inside her as you painted the walls of her pussy in her white. "My god!"

“Oh fuck yes…” she sighed, caressing your chest with her fingers. "That's… put it all inside."

With slow and deliberate pumps you made sure to leave every drop of your load inside her. When you were done, your cock came out like a plug and let a whole ass waterfall of cum seep through her folds and fall to the shower floor. This quickly dissolved in water and disappeared into the drain.

"Let me fucking kiss you for the love of god," you said with a gasp.

"You know I never say no to that," Haewon replied, with a hint of a smile.

"Liar," you said, and took her leg off your shoulder.

Haewon giggled and let you approach her. You turned her around, wrapped your arms around her and lifted her into the air. She gripped her strong thighs around your body, and wrapped her arms around your neck. Then you stuck her back to the wall and kissed her.

It could have been 5 or 15 minutes, you couldn't really tell, because when you kissed Haewon, her addictive lips made you enter a deep trance. You could just go on and on, but a greater need called you.

"Mmmh…" Haewon moaned softly, as you pulled away from her lips and took one of her tits into your mouth. "I was starting to wonder when you were going to give them some love."

"Ever since I got in the shower you've treated me like a piece of trash," you said, perhaps with a little too much drama.

The fact that her tits seemed bigger every day was not an exaggeration at all, although perhaps it was just a product of your mind, which had a special fixation on them. But how could you not have it if those pair of mounds bordered on perfection?

"My god, you're such a crybaby," she teased with a giggle, her fingers affectionately stroking the hair at the nape of your neck. "Would you forgive me, sweetheart?"

You licked and sucked on her nipples, up and down in a slow, tortuous rhythm. Haewon let out another small moan.

"Hmm… it doesn't sound like you mean it," you murmured against the skin of one of her soft mounds, and began placing kisses around her nipples.

"Honey, I spoil you too much," she said, and cradled your face so you were looking into her eyes. "Would you forgive me, please?"

She fluttered her eyelashes and looked at you with a pair of adorable bright eyes. Now she was the one who was cheating; she used her natural charms to manipulate you.

You narrowed your eyes.

"Only if you fill me with kisses."

She raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Didn't you say you didn't want to get cheesy?"

"Do you want me to forgive you or not?"

She rolled her eyes and dutifully placed kisses on every corner of your face, and you found yourself smiling like a fool. Maybe you were a little too spoiled by her.

"Forgiven," you said when she finished, with a little smile.

"Uh huh, now put me down," she patted you on the back twice. "You know I have work to do."

You took her off the wall and let her get off you. As soon as her feet touched the floor, she carefully lowered herself to her knees in front of your cock, still quite smeared on the tip by your own cum. Haewon then took it by the base and the first thing she did was take your tip into her mouth to clean it with gentle sucks.

"Mmm…" She pulled you out of her mouth and placed kisses around your tip. "I hope those balls can give me at least two more."

"Try your luck and see what you find, Haessal."

Haewon stuck her tongue out and planted it under your cock. With a slow head movement she licked upwards, and in the same motion she took half of your shaft into her mouth. You let out a gasp and crossed your hands behind your back. She gave a small moan, as she took you in and out of her mouth.

You took one hand from behind your back and brought it to her cheek to rub it with your thumb; then you placed it on her head, and stroked her hair as she took a couple more inches and sucked more and more hungrily.

She brought one hand to your thigh, and left the other around the base of your cock. Her head pumps became faster, and her suck sounds louder and sloppy. Haewon wasn't able to take you completely inside her mouth, but she sucked what she could so well that it wasn't even missed. She wasn't as prodigious as Rei or Yoon, but she was very good.

Every few seconds she would pull you out of her mouth for air and lick your cock, up the sides, around your tip and also down to your balls to kiss them while she masturbated you with her hand.

After a couple of minutes of messy blowjob, Haewon decided to finish you off quickly. Your cock was slippery, with a thick layer of saliva on top of it which she used to add her hand and move it in combination with her mouth. You gasped, already noticing the consequences on your body. Then she looked into your eyes, expectantly, and used a trick that always worked: she spread her knees and arched her back, so that you could see her magnificent ass raised. That was an instant nut for you.

“You motherfu…” you growled, and gritted your teeth the moment you started shooting a load into her warm mouth. Your hand on the back of her head.

Haewon removed her hand from your shaft and placed them both on the shower floor, now using only her mouth to drain your cock at a slow, sensual pace. You noticed how she swallowed every drop of it, while she let out soft moans of pleasure and slurped every inch of your shaft available to her.

She finally took you out of her mouth, and when you saw your cock, you noticed it was clean and shiny. Haewon caught her breath and filled it with kisses, then she looked at you.

"Delicious as always," she said, and you didn't need to see her tongue to know that your load was probably already all in her stomach. "But there is still a hole to fill…"

You, still shaken by your recent orgasm and with your cock sensitive, looked at her and offered her your hands. She took them, and stood up with your help.

“And I will,” you stated. "But can we do it outside? We haven't even had a real shower."

She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. Come on, you go first."

She gave you a little push and you ended up under the shower. Luckily the water was warm, but that didn't stop you from almost accidentally swallowing some of it. You didn't say anything, you just lowered your head and let your hair get wet.

Haewon took the soap from behind you and rubbed it all over your body. She did an excellent job, but she refused to accept your help when she reached your most intimate parts, which made it somewhat intrusive. But at that point you didn't care about that. It's not like you haven't touched every part of each other's bodies before and like she doesn't have maternal instincts with you sometimes.

By being ready you returned the favor to her. A perfect excuse to feel her entire body slippery against your hands. Just like she was with you, you were just as intrusive. But of course she didn't care either, on the contrary the only thing you did was turn her even more, and she hurried you so that you could finally go outside.

Finally, when you were both showered, you turned off the faucet and you both went out to dry yourself with the same towel. Haewon finally took off the clips holding her short hair up and took your hand to lead you outside. Rory was still asleep on the couch, which of course made it impossible to use.

"Do you want to use the balcony?" Haewon asked, gesturing towards it.

"Huh? Are you sure?" You raised your eyebrows. "We still have the guest room."

"I don't feel like using a bed, to be honest. So yeah."

"Come on, then."

This time it was you who led the way, with Haewon holded to your hand. You walked to the left, towards the glass door that led to the balcony; it was covered by the blinds, so you first had to roll them up to slide the glass and get out.

The space was relatively small: a table and two black chairs located on the left side, a plant in the corner, and a small stool with an ashtray, a pack of blue Marlboros and a lighter on top, in the opposite corner.

However, the strong point of the balcony was not the space, it was how it was located: not a single building in front, several meters high, and with a beautiful view of the entire south of Seoul behind the Han River. The perfect place to sit and drink a beer, smoke a cigarette and relax after work.

Or in those cases, to fuck and give a show to the whole city. You had used it a few more times already, once with Chaeyoung and the rest with Jiheon, who always got very horny at the idea that someone could see her being fucked.

"Wah, I never get tired of this view," Haewon said, and she went to lean on the railing. The wind blew against her face, and it made her hair flutter.

"And I never get tired of this one," you responded from behind her, staring at her ass.

You pulled out one of the chairs and positioned it right in the middle of the balcony, facing forward. You sat on it.

Haewon looked over her shoulder at you and looked down at your flaccid cock. She smiled and bent her upper body down, her hands resting on the railing. That left her ass inches from your face.

"How about we bring it back to life?" she asked with a mischievous tone of voice, then she lowered her ass and sat right on top of your cock.

She rested her hands on your knees and started moving her ass back and forth, your cock being kneaded between her butt cheeks. That didn't take long to make you hard, and Haewon let a satisfied moan escape from her as she felt you firm against her skin.

Even though she already had the job done she didn't stop; she continued with even more energetic, passionate movements. You placed your hands on her waist, feeling her athletic abdomen from the front with your fingertips.

"A little dry, don't you think?" you asked, biting your lip as you grabbed her butt cheek.

Haewon looked at you over her shoulder.

"I have the solution for that," she replied. "But I don't think the wind is going to help."

Haewon then spit on her hand and wrapped it around your cock to rub it just a few times, enough to cover it with a layer of saliva that served as lubricant for the assjob she began to give you.

You let out a gasp, watching as your cock was the filling of a firm meat sandwich. You ran your hands up Haewon's back, then over her shoulders and down her sturdy arms. Then you reached around her body, grabbed both of her tits and kneaded them while she moved her ass in wide, slow circles.

She moaned and removed her hands from your knees, so that the full weight of her ass was crushing your cock against your abdomen. Then she leaned her body back, and she put her hand on the back of your neck to kiss you, continuing to rub your shaft between her buttocks.

"You don't want my thighs?" she murmured between kisses. "I wouldn't want you to cum like this; it would be a waste."

"I thought you wanted it inside your ass," you replied, and reached down with one hand just to reach her pussy and subtly touch her clit.

"I do want it," she raised her ass and reached for your cock again, but this time she spread her thighs a little to put it between them. "But since we don't have lubricant available, we will have to use our natural resources."

Well, that night your balls would end up like a pair of dry chestnuts. You wish you had prepared better, but Haewon was as unpredictable as a dice roll.

Now, you couldn't complain in the slightest. Receiving a thighjob from her was like going up to heaven, being touched by an angel, and coming back down to earth on a cloud. She squeezed her thighs on either side of your cock, but she didn't consider it enough, so she crossed one leg over the other.

"And so you expect me to last until I fuck your ass?" you gasped, and pursed your lips at the stupidly overwhelming pleasure of having that pair of strong thighs crushing your cock.

Haewon placed a couple of kisses on your jaw and caressed the back of your neck.

"I don't expect you to last," she replied, purposely tensing her thighs to further suffocate your cock. "I intend to use your cum as lubricant for my ass."

Before you could protest she leaned forward again and grabbed onto your thighs to move up and down, so slowly that it felt like your cock was going in and out of a rolling mill. That's when you noticed how really athletic that girl was, since she only had one foot on the floor while she worked her triceps to go up and down.

"Oh my god yes," you gasped, clinging to her waist. "Use me as a gym."

Haewon giggled and nudged your thigh.

"Maybe another day I'll use you for my squats," she said, and she started moving faster.

You let out a louder moan, closed your eyes and let your head fall back. There was no possible way not to feel removed from the physical plane when Haewon gave you a thighjob as tight and stifling as that. At that moment you could say with complete certainty that you'd rather fuck her thighs than her pussy, but Haewon was such a complete package that an opinion like that changed from one day to the next.

She stopped just for a second and spit on your cock. Saliva fell on your tip, hot and thick, and spread over the rest of your shaft as Haewon's thighs went up and down.

You opened your eyes and straightened your head. Her sexy back was your focus for a few long seconds, but then you looked down at her ass. You couldn't just sit still while that woman melted you, so you sucked on your ring and middle fingers and brought them to her butthole.

Haewon was startled, but then moaned when she felt your fingers rub at first and then penetrate a few inches into her tight butthole. When half of your fingers were inside her you simply left your wrist still, so that she could fuck her own ass at the same time that she stroked your cock with her thighs.

Soon your moans were joined by Haewon’s, who in a moment turned to look at you and asked you with a nod to take the rest of the length of your fingers inside her. So you did, raising your wrist so that your fingers were buried knuckle-deep inside her butthole.

Now Haewon, with a new motivation to up the gear, sacrificed some pressure around your cock just to gain speed. You hardly noticed any difference, since you were so close that just that slight friction on both sides was enough to take you down the hill.

Your fingers went comfortably in and out of Haewon's butthole, who in search of more pleasure moved as fast as her own arms would allow her. Unfortunately for her, the work her thighs were doing quickly paid off, and with a loud growl you exploded between them.

She realized that you were in the throes of an orgasm, but she didn't seem to care; she continued to move painfully fast as your fingers continued to act as her personal dildo.

"H-hey… stop!" you growled, and gave her a careless spank while you were still shooting cum streams onto the air.

Haewon screeched and finally stopped. She turned to look at you with her brow furrowed. She then looked down, realizing that her thighs and your cock were covered in cum.

"Oops," she said with a giggle.

"Oops my ass. Come here."

You took your fingers out from inside her butthole and with the same hand you pushed her forward. Haewon fell to her knees on the wooden floor, and automatically bent her back to make a perfect arch and rest her hands on it.

With her ass raised and presented to you, you stood up, pushed the chair behind you with your foot, and knelt behind her. Your cock was still hard and soaked in your own fluids; you took it with one hand, and as painful as it seemed at first, you buried it inside Haewon's butthole.

She moaned, but you let out a pained groan.

"I hope you're on my damn side when we play Monopoly," you said thinly, as your cock easily slid into her.

Just like Haewon wanted it, your cum served as a makeshift lubricant. It felt strange, but it fulfilled its function perfectly. With rather a minuscule effort your cock was completely inside.

"It's a game of chance, darling, I don't think I can do much about it," she replied, her head falling between her shoulders.

You placed a hand on her ass and gave her butt cheek a gentle squeeze. Then you started pumping your hips slowly. Your cock was still sensitive, so you felt more pain than pleasure at first.

"Give me squares, skip turns, I don't know."

She leaned on her forearms to turn her head and look at you, her mouth slightly open and her brow furrowed.

"And you don't want me to rob the bank too?" she raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged, and stopped moving.

"I mean, if you can."

"No, I can't! The girls would be upset!"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

"How boring."

Neither of you two opened your mouths again to do anything other than moan, since you had returned to what was really important.

The pain soon disappeared, but you still gave her slow pumps just to test how well you could move in and out of her. Haewon was already more than well trained for that practice, and especially for you, so it didn't take long for her ass to adapt to you.

Seconds later you started pumping faster and faster. Inevitably your hands went to her ass, which jiggled with each collision of your pelvis. Haewon stared ahead, between loud moans that went away with the wind as soon as they came out.

Inevitably your hands went to her ass, where you gripped each of her butt cheeks with your fingers. You wanted to destroy her, fuck her as hard as you did in her shower. But the fatigue in your body, accumulated after that long day, prevented you from being as intense as always.

Still, neither of you needed excessive aggressiveness to feel good while you were fucking. Haewon, despite being somewhat explosive at times, never demanded to be fucked hard and dirty all the time; it was enough for her that you used your cock well, and that was that.

Luckily that last thing was something you knew how to do very well, even when your hips and balls demanded a more than well-deserved rest.

Trying not to leave all the work to your hips, you planted your feet on the floor and rose above Haewon's ass. This way you used only your legs while moving up and down as fast as you could, which wasn't too much, but it was enough for her to cum after a minute.

"I'm not done with you yet, Haessal," you gasped, and rested a hand on one of her shoulders as she squealed in pleasure. "Come on, give me another one."

With your free hand you reached under her body to find her pussy. When you reached between her legs your fingers went straight to her clitoris, rubbing it in circles while you fucked her through her orgasm. Haewon responded with a squirm that made her press her cheek against the floor.

Haewon's face was ruby ​​red, as it always was when she was subjected to high levels of pleasure. She was downright adorable, as her round face and cheeks made her look like a fresh tomato. But damn that arched back, that perfect ass up and being fucked, and those sensual moans were hot.

There came a point where your legs also began to weaken, and the sweat began to run down your temples. Sometimes you concentrated to not cum and last longer, but this time you concentrated to do exactly the opposite. Luckily it wasn't too difficult for you; it was enough for Haewon to cum once more for you to do it right after.

You both exploded between moans. You stopped rubbing her pussy and planted your knees on the floor again, as you shot a few spurts of cum into her tight ass. Haewon on the other hand grabbed her own head with both hands, pulling strands of her short hair as she let out whimpers.

You didn't cum as much as you did an hour ago, but enough so that at the moment you came out of her, a small waterfall of thick white liquid spilled out of her dilated butthole and fell to the dark wooden floor.

"Aight, enough for today," you said between labored breaths, and fell backwards on your ass.

"It's not like I'm in the mood for more, you fool," she replied softly, and straightened up to get on her knees. "You've squeezed me out for today."

You let out a laugh.

"I squeezed you out?" you asked in disbelief. "I feel like my dick is going to fall off."

"Oh come on, it was only four times," she supported herself with her hands and with an arduous effort managed to stand up.

“Five,” you corrected.

Haewon whipped around to look at you.

"So you did fuck Sullyoonie earlier, huh?"

You sighed and didn't say anything, you just shrugged since you didn't consider it respectful to admit those things openly.

She clapped her hands and pointed at you.

"I knew it!"

"Of course you knew," you nodded, also standing up as you looked at the mess you had left out there.

"Where it was?" she asked, and took a step forward. "A service room?"

"An empty conference room," you answered without looking at her, more worried about how you would clean everything than anything else. "Now shut up and stay still while I find something to clean up the mess."

You walked inside the house and ran past the front of the hallway to avoid Bae or Sully seeing you. You reached the kitchen and quickly grabbed the roll of towel, under the watchful eye of Rory, who was now sitting on a counter.

"I hope you haven't seen any of that abomination, darling."

After giving the kitten a kiss you returned to the balcony. Haewon looked towards the city, with her arms crossed and leaned on the railing. When she noticed your presence she turned around and leaned on her lower back.

"I see why Sully's cheeks were redder than normal," she said. "She's been kinky lately."

You remained silent and cut several pieces of towel to leave them on the cum stains in different parts of the balcony. Even the chair was stained in places. When they absorbed the liquid, you picked them all up one by one and rolled them into balls.

"You're not going to clean me up or what?"

"Nope, you'll do it yourself while I look for the spray mop."

You didn't let her protest, you simply stood up and left the roll of towel in her arms to go back inside the apartment.

When you went to pass in front of the hallway of the rooms your brain had gone on autopilot, so when the door to your room opened at the end of the corridor you didn't even have time to hide.

Bae, with a towel on her arm, in her panties and in a crop top shirt, immediately fixed her gaze on you. You stood paralyzed, also looking at her and her thin body full of hot curves. She scrutinized you, especially your lower part.

"Uh…" she looked at the floor, and then at the door to her left, which was the guest room.

The risk of her seeing you had completely slipped your mind. It was your house, and you were more than used to all the girls who went there seeing you naked. But Bae had never done it. It had to be, of course, in an uncomfortable situation.

"Nice body," you said, since it was the first thing that came to mind.

Bae looked at you again; she stayed quiet for a few seconds while she detailed you.

"You too."

You both nodded slowly, and then you looked towards the kitchen.

"Well… I'll get a mop," you pointed with your thumb.

"Yeah, sure," she nodded again, and opened the door to the guest room. "I… I'll go get dressed so we can play."

"Sure," you nodded again, and looked at the floor.

You both looked at each other for a few more seconds until each of you continued on your respective path. Then you found yourself with hot cheeks.

Bae was stupidly hot, with a body that looked like it was sculpted by hammer and chisel. But you were forced to get certain images of her out of your head so as not to get horny again.

Still embarrassed, you went to the laundry room and took out the spray mop to return to the balcony. Haewon had already cleaned herself, and she had gathered all the towel balls in a corner to throw them away later.

"I can't believe you let her see you," Haewon giggled as you moped the floor.

You shrugged as you mopped where the chair used to be. That particular floor was always a pain to clean, and this time was no exception.

"Bad timing I guess."

"Do you want me to go get the trash can?"

"No, we can throw the towel over the railing."

"I just don't want anyone to see me!"

You looked up at her and raised an eyebrow, as if wanting to say 'Really?'

"Ugh, right away."

Haewon left you alone for a moment, but returned seconds later with the trash can and an extra mop. Between the two of you, you continued cleaning the balcony and, after about 10 minutes, you left it sparkling as if nothing had happened.

By that point the night was already cold as hell, so you and Haewon went inside and closed the door to the balcony. You went to your room, where you found Sully sitting in the middle of the bed while she watched a video of her on her iPad. She had on her lavender pajama set, and was brushing her hair with Helios asleep next to her.

When she noticed that you came in naked, she looked up.

"Oh, are you done?" she asked, and looked back at her iPad.

"Thank god yes," you gave Haewon a look and turned around to enter through the door that was just at the entrance to the room, which led to the master wardrobe.

"Were you that hard on him?" you heard Sullyoon ask Haewon, while you looked for your clothes.

You pulled out your underwear, a black Celtics tracksuit and a white Puma sweater.

"I wouldn't say that," Haewon replied. "It's not like I forced him."

That wasn't entirely true. You frowned as you remembered how she had manipulated you with the charms you were always weak to. She had slowly dragged you into her web, and although you fell straight, it was all orchestrated by her and her desires.

When you got dressed, you went out and found Haewon already dressed too, in short pajama shorts and a simple t-shirt. She was sitting next to Sully as she caressed the back of the dozing Helios, who was between the two of them.

"Well? Shall we play or what?"

"Yeah!" the two said in unison.

That night's game was a real war.

Sully had been the least of your problems. If you and that girl acted as a team even without meaning to, when the situation called for it you were unstoppable. You bought properties from each other all the time and then exchanged them so you could build.

But Haewon had cared little about your request, and that whole game had been based on her and Bae trying to screw you over.

Bae didn't care about winning, she just wanted to be as annoying as possible to the three of you. On the other hand, Haewon was petty as well as visionary. She made you sweat towards the end of the game, but the winner ended up being Sullyoon, for the simple fact of having invested in all the orange properties at the beginning of the game.

After playing the Monopoly game, the four of you went to the balcony wrapped up warmly and spent the time just eating snacks and chatting. It was around two in the morning when you went back inside to sleep. Haewon and Sully slept with you, while Bae slept in the guest room.

You were usually never the first to wake up; someone was always ahead of you. But for some time now you had gotten into the habit of getting up no later than 9 in the morning. It had happened for several reasons: one of them was to feel like you were making better use of the day, another was to fix your sleeping schedule in general, but the most important thing was to be able to give food to the cats when it was time.

That day you had woken up at 8:30 in the morning. Sully was on your left, and on hers was Haewon, on the side of the bed closest to the window. Both still fast asleep.

Careful not to disturb Sully, you slid out of the blanket and stood up with the phone in your hand; you left it on the floating shelf in front of the bed, which spanned the entire wall to the corner. Then you went to the bathroom, washed your face and teeth, and after taking your phone back, you left the room.

As soon as you crossed the hallway, Helios got off the couch and greeted you with a meow as he approached. Rory came out from behind the kitchen island and jumped onto it to sit, staring at you in complete silence.

"Good morning, my loves," you greeted in a tiny voice, as Helios rubbed his head against your calf. You bent down to pet his back, and he meowed again. "Yeah yeah, I'm coming."

You quickly walked to open all the blinds, so that the apartment was filled with beautiful natural light. Then you went to the kitchen, Helios following close behind. Rory got off the island and stood next to you as you picked up each of their plates from the floor. You put them on a counter and went to the corner of the kitchen, where the huge bag of cat kibble was with a scoop inside. You served a considerable amount on each plate, and amidst desperate meows you put the plates in their places for them to eat.

Their water bowl was still half full, so you didn't consider it necessary to pour more. Instead, after grinding the beans, you set about making your everyday cup of espresso. While it was being done, you went straight to get a box of cereal and a carton of milk for breakfast.

By the time the espresso was ready you had already poured yourself the cereal, so you took the cup with the coffee, put two teaspoons of sugar in it and took it along with the bowl of cereal to the dining table.

Not even five minutes passed when you heard a door open, and then another, probably the bathroom in the hallway. It couldn't be Haewon or Sully; they always used the bedroom bathroom. That only left one option.

After a while you heard the door open again, and seconds later Bae came out of the hallway.

Thank goodness you had already finished a good part of the cereal, because it would have spilled out of your mouth when you saw Bae, again in panties and a crop top shirt. Just like she was in your awkward encounter last night.

"Good morning!" she said, as she raised her arms to stretch them, an action with which she revealed more inches of her perfect, slim torso. You could almost see what was under that shirt, but she lowered her arms immediately.

"Good… morning," you replied, and took a sip of your espresso while between small glances you admired her long legs and her small waist.

"Wah, I really slept deliciously."

She sat next to you, in the chair facing the end of the table, legs crossed in the most attractive way she could choose.

"Yeah, that room is pretty comfortable," you nodded, and took another spoonful of cereal, one of the last. "What are you doing awake this early?"

"Well…" she rested her elbows on the table and her chin on her hand. "It just happened, why?"

"You never get up early."

"But this time it happened, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," you shrugged. "It's just weird. Are you up to something or what?"

Bae was silent for a few seconds while her gaze wandered around the table, in the end she pursed her lips and shrugged.

"In short, you're up to something," you confirmed, and grabbed the cup and the empty bowl to stand up. You went to the dishwasher. "Do you want me to make you something for breakfast? There's cereal, eggs, bread…"

There was no response from her while you were washing the dishes, but you did hear the chair move back. By the time you looked over your shoulder, Bae had already hugged you from behind and pressed herself against you.

You wrinkled your brow, and looked into her eyes with your hands still full of soap.

"May I know what you are doing?"

Bae squeezed you into her arms, and pressed one of her knees to your side. She rested her chin on your shoulder and leaned closer to your ear.

"Oppa…" she lowered her voice, almost to a whisper. "Do you think I have a nice body?"

That's where the shots were going, then. You should have guessed. But in the mornings you were not at your full brain capacity.

"What's that question about?" you looked away, as you now washed the bowl and spoon.

"You seemed delighted about it last night."

She planted a hand on your abdomen, caressing it gently up and down.

"I don't know what you're talking about, honestly."

You left the sponge in it’s place and removed the soap from the dishes with plenty of water.

"No? You were almost drooling…" she whispered. "You fucked me like four times with your eyes."

You couldn't help but let out a sly smile as you set the clean dishes aside. Then you left your hands rested on the edge of the dishwasher.

"I wasn't the only one, as I remember."

"Because you're hot, oppa," she replied with a giggle, and then lowered her hand to rest on your bulge. "And your cock looked… delicious."

Bae began to knead your cock gently, slow and deep movements. You held your breath for a moment, and resisted the urge to turn around and put your hands on her. You wanted to see how far she would go.

"If you wanted to taste it you just had to say so last night," you said, and looked down. Your cock was already getting hard thanks to her hand.

Bae laughed.

"And share you with those two?" Of course not," she said. "If I'm going to taste you for the first time, I have to do it alone."

Bae stopped moving her hand to put it between your sweatpants and boxers. She found yourself with your already hard cock, which she wrapped with her hand and then lowered it to your balls as well.

"Fuck, I don't think all that will fit inside me…" she murmured against your neck, where she placed soft, wet kisses. "My pussy is too tight."

"Oh my god…" you gasped, and let your head fall to the side to give Bae free rein on that side of your neck.

She didn't mince words and pulled down your bottoms to free your cock immediately. Then she stroked it slowly, while she used her other hand to rub your abdomen under your sweater.

Unable to resist anymore you slowly turned around and came face to face with her. You stared into each other's eyes, Bae still with her hand stroking your cock. Then you put your arm around her slender body, pressed her against you, and kissed her.

The way that girl kissed immediately reminded you of Sumin: just as insecure at first, but with a gradual increase in hunger as the seconds passed that led to her attacking your mouth with her tongue, which by the way you could notice that moved in a prodigious way.

The kiss lasted for a few long seconds in which she continued to move her hand up and down your cock, slowly until your precum began to leak between her fingers. You, for your part, had your hand clinging to the side of her torso, which you then moved to caress her back and lowered it again to grab her ass.

That made Bae let out a small moan against your lips and pull away from them. She then looked into your eyes once more, and with her gaze still on them, she fell to her knees with your cock right between her eyebrows.

"I've done this like only once in my life," she said, as she wrapped her fingers around your base. "So don't scold me."

"I'm not going to scold you, Jinsol," you replied. "You know how to use that tongue very well. Just use it and it will be fine."

Bae nodded slowly and stared at the piece of meat in front of her eyes. She looked at it for a few brief moments, as if wanting to decide where to start. She finally decided to comply with your statements, and she planted her tongue on the underside of your cock to lick it up. You gasped and rested your hands on the edge of the dishwasher behind you, while Bae swirled her tongue in slow circles around your tip.

“Fuck, like that…” you pursed your lips. "But- oh fuck…"

Before you could finish your sentence, Bae beat you to it, and fulfilled exactly the suggestion you were about to make: she took you inside her mouth. It was just the tip, but she sucked it gently while she gave it quick licks.

After a few seconds she worked up the courage to take a few more inches and begin pumping her head in calm iterations. She looked into your eyes frequently, making sure you were enjoying every little wiggle of her tongue. Which you certainly did, since such control was incredible.

Once Bae was sure she was doing a good job she relaxed and let herself go. Decision more than beneficial for you, since now she was taking her mouth further and further away, and to your genuine surprise, almost to her throat.

"What the fuck," you moaned, and your forehead wrinkled in pleasure. "How…?"

You didn't even bother trying to find an explanation. Some people were simply born with talent. Apparently Bae knew how to do that just because, and without any effort.

She gave you a few long, slow pumps and pulled you out of her mouth with a slurp at your tip.

"You like it like that?" she asked, moving her hand on your saliva-soaked cock. "I can go faster if you want."

“Oh god no,” you shook your head. "That's perfect," you nodded for her to continue.

Bae then took you into her mouth again and this time she prolonged her gentle, deep blowjob for an incredible two minutes in which you were constantly with your toes curled and your mouth gaping. You would have loved to cum inside her mouth, but you had other priorities right now.

"Alright, get up," you ordered between gasps.

She obeyed you immediately, and as soon as she stood in front of you, you wrapped your arms around her small waist and kissed her again. This time you took complete control, invading her mouth with your tongue while your hands roamed every corner of her tight body. You focused your attention on her lower back and her waist, places you constantly clung to because of how stupidly good they felt under your fingers.

Bae brought her hand back to your cock to try to rub it again, but you stopped her and grabbed both of her arms so she wrapped them around your neck. Then you had free rein to take your hand between her legs and rub her pussy over her bluish panties, which you noticed were wet already.

She moaned against your lips and gripped her fingers in your hair, as she rubbed her thigh against your balls. You then put your hand inside her panties to reach her pussy, which was extremely soft to the touch, and rubbed her clitoris in slow circles.

You separated from her lips and focused now on her long neck, whose pretty skin you filled with wet kisses. Bae let out an adorable, soft moan close to your ear, as you ran your fingers up and down between her folds, which were starting to get soaked.

“Oppa, fuck me already…” she moaned into your ear. "Please."

The only reason you decided not to continue teasing her was because you were almost as in need of it as she was. And how not to be, with that tight and soft body in your arms.

You took a few steps forward with her until you had her lean against the island counter, then you grabbed her waist with your hands and made her sit in the exact same place where last night you had eaten Haewon.

Not willing to waste time you brought your hands to the hem of Bae's panties and quickly slid them off her pretty pale legs. She then spread them wide open, revealing her pretty glistening pussy to you as she stared into your eyes.

You positioned yourself between her legs, and took your cock in your hand to rub the tip of it between her folds. You made a gesture to get inside, but she put a hand on your abdomen.

"Can I do it myself?" she asked, and she bit her lip pointing at your cock.

"Go on then," you nodded.

Bae leaned back, rested her left elbow on the marble surface and took your cock in her hand, rubbing it between her own folds and then bringing it to her entrance, where you gently pushed to insert your tip.

You both let out a small moan, as your cock slowly but surely made its way between her folds. And damn, she wasn't lying when she said she was too tight. For a moment you thought you were going to get stuck halfway, but with a little patience and saliva—literally—you were able to bury every inch of your cock inside that stifling space.

"It looks like every inch did fit inside you…" you smiled, and put your hands behind her knees as you gave her a moment to get used to your thickness.

"It seems so, yeah," she responded between agitated gasps. "But I feel like you're going to tear my cervix, oh my god."

You chuckled, and gripped your fingers on her thighs.

"You'll get used to it."

With that said you began to move back and forth, as slowly as you could at first while giving the tight walls of Bae's pussy time to stretch around your throbbing cock. It was a long and tortuous few seconds, but in the end the pumps became smooth and easy, enough for you to be able to move freely.

Bae couldn't afford to be loud, and she knew it. That's why her moans were so discreet. But her face, painted with a subtle blush, and her sensual expressions said it all. She laid her back flat on the counter, and covered her mouth so she could let out a few louder squeals she had pent up.

You released one of her thighs and left the palm of your hand on her lower abdomen, where you could feel the tip of your cock slightly bulge her skin with each pump, which became faster and stronger with each second.

From her lower abdomen you moved your hand up, to reach under her small cropped shirt and grab one of her tits; they were tiny, but you felt a pair of small, soft, adorable nipples that you pinched with your fingers.

Bae's thigh tensed and trembled under your left hand fingers. She now had both hands covering her face, her back arched and her toes curled so tightly they were red. And then, after a minute of her pussy being rapidly fucked, she exploded with a louder whimper that she was unable to stifle.

The feeling of having her pussy that tight around your cock reminded you of Haewon's thighjobs. It was suffocating, like it was going to squeeze your cock and crush it like a rubber toy. Even you let out a moan as you carefully fucked her.

Bae removed her hands from her face and brought them behind to grip the edge of the counter. Her face was even redder than before, her bottom lip bitten and her eyes squeezed shut. Her spasms made her back twist, and caused tremors in her thighs.

When her orgasm had passed you pulled out from inside her pussy and laid your cock flat against her abdomen. She leaned on her elbows and looked at you between labored breaths.

"Wanna ride me, cutie?" you asked, and caressed her toned abdomen up and down.

She quickly nodded.

"I'd love to, oppa."

"Then come here."

You took a step back and helped her off the counter. Afterwards, you took her hand and guided her to the other side of the room, towards the couch that, thank God, was completely free to use.

The couch had a square area on its left end that looked more like a small bed. You knelt on top of it and crawled until you turned around and placed your back between the cushions, with your legs extended forward. Bae also climbed onto the couch and straddled you, thighs pressed tightly on either side of your hips.

"Can I take that shirt off?" you asked. "It's been bothering me all damn morning."

Bae pressed her pussy against the back of your cock and very subtly ground her hips. She then nodded and lifted her arms, so that you could immediately remove her shirt and leave her completely naked on top of you.

"And me? Can I take that dumb sweater off or what?" she asked, and gave it a couple of tugs.

"It's one of my favorites, have some respect," you replied, and then raised your arms too.

She immediately took your sweater off and tossed it next to her shirt. Her hands planted themselves on your chest, which she slowly rubbed before diving back into your neck with kisses and bites.

Now that you two were completely naked, the rubbing between your bodies and the touching became a sensation as magnificent as fucking. You wrapped both arms around her slim waist and pressed her body against yours, your fingers gripping her flesh firmly. Meanwhile one of Bae's hands slid between your bodies until she reached your cock, which she stroked at the same time she rubbed it with her pussy.

She kept kissing your neck, and she soon focused on your collarbone. She then raised her hips, and straightened your cock to completely impale herself on it again. You let out a moan, but Bae just bit her lip, made you look at her and then kissed you before moving her hips up and down.

Your hands immediately went to her waist and a few seconds later they went down to her ass; Bae's went to your neck, before completely surrounding it with her arms and deepening the kiss. You were the only one moaning against the other's lips, which immediately made you realize that her goal was for you to enjoy it more than her.

She hugged your head and started moving her hips faster, with a skill and smoothness that left you surprised. That girl knew what she was doing, taking your cock all the way in and out of her, with movements that could have easily caused you to unintentionally pull out of her. But hell no, the control she had over her lower body was impressive.

You soon found yourself stunned. The girl you least expected turned out to be the one who rode cock the best of absolutely everyone. That, combined with her tight, toned, curvy body, her tight pussy, her cute round ass, and the sexy changes in her countenance made her a complete menace of a woman.

You couldn't help but moan again and again against her lips, until she had no choice but to break away from the kiss, just to stare at you while you melted with pleasure.

"Do you like the way I ride you, oppa?" she asked, with a cute and innocent tone.

You squeezed both of her buttocks hard and couldn't help but give one of them a little spank out of pure instinct. Then you sank slightly into her couch so that your face was level with her small tits.

"I fucking love it, fuck," you moaned, and put your hands on her back so she could bring her tits closer to your mouth. You took a nipple inside and sucked and licked it.

"Oh yeah?" She let a small moan escape her as you ate her small but delicious tits. "How much?"

"No one has ever ridden me as good as you right now," you gasped, and closed your eyes before letting your head fall back, your mouth half open in an O and your brow furrowed.

“Then fill my tight pussy oppa…” she rubbed your hair, and as if it were possible, she moved her hips even faster and harder. "But hurry up… who knows when those two will wake up."

You didn't even need her to rush you. You were already dangerously close to cumming from the moment she started moving her hips. It took less than a minute for you to put your arms around her waist again in a hug, and then explode inside that dangerous prison called pussy that she had.

Rarely did someone make you moan as uncontrollably as Bae did in that moment. She even had to cover your mouth as she moved her hips slower and felt you shoot your entire immense thick load inside her.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "You came a lot, oppa. And it feels so warm and nice…"

She removed her hand from your mouth and kissed you again. Meanwhile, you again held on to her ass as she slowed down to a complete stop. You two were tasting each other's mouths for a few long seconds, until she raised her hips to take out your cock. The only thing you could feel was the abundant amount of cum falling into your abdomen.

"Do you want a clean?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Fuck, do whatever you want," you sighed, eyes still closed.

Bae got off you and knelt next to you with her ass raised. She brought her face close to your abdomen and didn't hesitate for a second to lick the pool of white liquid from end to end. You opened your eyes and watched in silence as she collected every drop of it with her tongue and swallowed it.

"Since when…?" you wrinkled your forehead. "God, nevermind."

When she finished cleaning your abdomen she then took your cock and repeated the same process, until it was clean and shiny. She then sat back on her heels and looked at you with heavy breathing.

"Can you make me some fried eggs and sausages?" she asked, and tilted her head.

You couldn't help but burst out laughing. That girl was quite a specimen.

"Aha, but get dressed and go get the girls up. I have to get you back a little before 2 because I have to turn on stream early."

"And why don't you do it at night like always?"

"Because I'll meet you at Korea University. Come on, hurry up."

Bae nodded and stood up. You both dressed quickly, and you started making breakfast for all of them while Bae went to wake them up. You ended up taking them at 1 in the afternoon. By the time you got back home, you did your respective 4-5 hour stream and got ready to go to the campus where the girls would be performing that day—which was admittedly quite far from your house.

But you wanted to see your favorite femboy. And on top of that, you could see those tripleS girls up close. Three birds with one stone.

-----------------------------

As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[janovavalen]

dancin in the dark ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ jinx x fem! reader x isha ( mother mother daughter relationship )

summary: a long day after work, y/n comes home to her loving weird family that just fits

warnings: established jinx and y/n relationship, y/n and jinx consider isha is their daughter ( not stated but implied ) , fluff ! family cuddles !

i just have to wash episode 6 out of my mind NOW

it had been a long day, a tiring long day of work in the city. y/n’s legs and arms hurt more than ever. sometimes she feels like the pain will never ease up.

even jinx has gone easier on her than this.

yawning and walking into jinx’s layer that somehow became their apartment for the time being until they had money to actually move, she made not much noise. the faint sounds of laughter and jinx’s husky voice as she spoke.

‘in the left! we have our vicious, dangerous ! blood hungry monster, biloptormus!’ she yelled into a fake microphone that isha and jinx made and used to pronounce their monster fights, y/n smiled softly while setting her bag down softly onto the metal floor.

the continuing sounds of jinx pronouncing what they were doing as isha made her adorable sounds and laughs.

‘oh! come on don’t flatten out now! put some effort into it!’ jinx stressed while she watched the small colored bugs fly around each other.

‘oh give them a break they’re tired’ y/n jokes while she stepped into the lights. isha hurried to turn and smiled widely, a small gasp breaking through her mouth as she ran to y/n with her arms wrapped around her legs.

‘hi, my love’ she mumbled while leaning down to isha’s height; her hand over the back of her head only for her to open her eyes and see blue instead of light brown.

‘what the?’ she mumbled.

‘don’t yell! i promise we made a bet that if she won a fight then i’d do her hair and well? dot dot dot, what can i say’ jinx said with a grin as she walked over to y/n who held her mouth open a bit in a stuck gasp.

‘you promised—‘

‘sh sh’ she groaned while leaning into y/n as she sunk into her warmth. the smell of her perfume and wherever else she was being prominent in the crook of her neck. y/n was her forever comfort place, she found nothing but that in her.

and maybe some other things.

smiling, y/n left a hand behind isha’s head while rubbing it and let her other hand lead up to jinx’s crook of her neck, messaging it lightly.

‘i take it nobody went to sleep today?’

‘how could we! our sleep meds was out making money’ jinx mumbled into y/n’s neck as she laughed.

‘okay well, your sleep medicine is getting sleepy herself! i’ll take my shower, and come back. and you two better be ready for bed!’ y/n warned.

she deeply understood that jinx couldn’t sleep without her there. she mentioned having nightmares or just no ability to sleep at all, isha helped sometimes but not enough.

the two smiled and let go of y/n as she grabbed some clothes for bed.

before she walked away she heard a whisper—‘hey!’ turning to be taken into jinx’s arms, her hands around her waist and her face getting close, y/n quickly closed her eyes to be enfolded into the warmth of jinx’s lips.

a sweetened kiss that washed away all of her day troubles as jinx smiled, y/n humming.

‘i see you missed me?’ y/n mumbled into her lips as she pecked them one more time.

‘what can i say, you have a thing about you where someone can easily get attached’ jinx jokes with a shrug and an eye roll.

y/n smiled and kissed her one more time before letting go, their pinkies interlocked and slowly falling apart. letting y/n go to take her shower.

˚₊✩‧₊

coming out with y/n in her pajamas and a towel on her head to absorb the wetness from her previous hair wash, she saw isha and jinx in bed with their hands making shapes with the light reflections.

walking to the bed she plopped down and groaned, jinx looking at isha who already knew what she was doing, crawled next to y/n, each side of her being immediately taken into the arms of her loves.

jinx rubbed her towel to dry her hair a bit more before taking the towel off to reveal her pink hair, the both of them gasping.

‘y/n!’ jinx yelled as y/n laughed into the bed.

‘well i wasn’t going to be the only one with normal colored hair in this place’ she smiled as she turned over on her back as saw jinx and isha laughing with shocked expressions.

she laughed as well and scooted up to the pillows, all of them getting under them as they wrapped their arms around y/n. her own arms around the both of them as they mumbled sweet and random nothings to each other.

‘y’know…if you think about it, we’re a family’ jinx mumbled. it’s been a while since isha fell asleep, her face smushed into y/n’s chest.

y/n felt her heart skip a bit as she mumbled—‘yeah…i love to think of it like that’ jinx smiled and kissed y/n on her cheek, then her lips.

pushing into each other, they found comfort in this. falling soundly asleep.

[stareaterau]

Chapter 1 episode 5

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(special thanks to @bucket-of-cheese for this episode cover art!, as well as @karkatwaddles @chip-the-dip @scrambledlikeeggs @kairamuwu with editing)

---

Our favourites cross paths

CW: threats made with a weapon, mentions of injuries

Read below↓

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Time passes, though horribly slower in the desert heat.

Grian and Scar both spend their morning groggy and aching from the phantom fight the previous evening. Not to mention the little rest they were able to get during the relatively short night that this planet provides.

Now that they feel rested enough, Grian shoots up high above the canyon with a few strong beats of his wings. Scar watches him from the ground as he makes a few circles in the sky before he dives down back to join him. With a greater bearing on his surroundings, thanks to the high vantage point, Grian picks a direction that seems most prominent to head towards. He returns grumbling about how he could see something in the distance, but it looked like nothing more than a bunch of junk to him. Not much of the optimist it seems, but Scar prides himself on being able to make the most of any situation. He pats Grian's back, giving a small speech about how 'that a bunch of junk was better than nothing after all'. Grian blinks slowly, reluctantly agreeing. They have a destination now!

Grian consistently finds himself needing to catch up with Scar, occasionally mumbling about how the ground is too flat and something about bird feet. It’s obvious by how he’s fidgeting that he’d rather be flying, even though that option means either leaving Scar behind or carrying him there. And as much as Scar wants to ask, he’s also scared he might lose an eye as a result.

He leaves the slightly personal question unasked, the conversation instead being filled with Grian complaining about walking. He hesitates when their passage opens up to the blaring, exposed sun. Holding his hand up to shield himself from the harsh light, he scrunches his face, occasionally wincing when his hot metal limbs hit his skin with his heavy, tired steps.

Scar himself isn’t having much of a fun time either. The leg braces he uses aren’t meant to be put under a lot of strain for such a long time. It’s only a matter of time before they might snap. The grains of sand grating against them are probably hastening the unit's deterioration. He'll have to use Grian as support if they do break.. and go through the laborious task of requesting a new pair from the Vindicators.

Occasionally they have to take a break, with Scar trying to brush as much dust and sand from the joints of the braces, doing the most he can to slow down any decay it might have caused them. On the other hand, Grian uses the opportunity to rest, immediately slumping against the nearest wall and fanning himself with his tail.

Scar has long since taken off his jacket and tied it around his waist, relieved by the fact he'd been wearing a tank top underneath. The lack of sleeves feels like a world of difference in the heat, not that he wouldn't take it off completely if need be, despite his company. Every so often, he catches Grian's lingering looks when he thinks Scar isn't watching, his expression weirdly guarded and lost in thought. One time, when he notices he’s being examined, Scar flexes jokingly in response, receiving a roll of the eyes and quiet mutterings about indecency.

Despite how hot it is and how much his company seems to fidget and scratch at the uncomfortable feathers underneath, Grian seems insistent on keeping his layers on.

Finally, they reenter the shade, and the winged man groans, flinging around his stiff arms.

”What's wrong?” Scar turns around, watching as the strange man shakes out his feathers. Sand rains down as he does as if the sunlight has been caking him in the sand.

"I lost my helmet and, therefore, my visor. It sucks."

“Sucks how?"

"The light hurts my eyes." Grian rubs at his temples, scrunching his eyes closed.

Scar tilts his head in response, confused. It’s bright, not enough to be painful yet, but it’s clearly bothering Grian more somehow.

When he’s met with a lack of a retort, Grian glances up at Scar, quickly taking note of his confused expression. He rolls his eyes like he knows what Scar is thinking.

"I'm a glare," he says so simply, answering the unspoken question.

"Not… glare-leaning? Or an avian?" Scar, not so subtly, looks Grian up and down, the other tensing uncomfortably with a weird look to match.

"No."

"But…" Scar trails off, not quite being sure how to ask respectfully.

"I have wings?" Grian finishes for him, like he’s heard it all before. Tucking his wings behind his back on reflex, he takes in a deep breath, as if psyching himself up for a speech.

A series of looks flash across his face. Scar waits patiently, only for Grian to breathe out a quiet "Yeah," with no further elaboration.

"Glares can have wings?"

"This one can. It's complicated." Grian walks past Scar, losing eye contact deliberately as he strolls ahead. He doesn’t appear upset at least, bored is the closest to how Scar could describe it.

"But… How?" Scar asks cautiously, against his better judgment.

"Family curse from hitting a magical bird with a ship centuries ago." Grian holds his hands out, imitating piloting, before hitting his hands together with a metal clank. "BAM! Wings for all your firstborns."

"Wait, really?" Scar exclaims. Genuinely believing Grian’s story. He catches up to him with a quick jog, looking to the glare in an attempt to get a read of his face only to be met with a smirk. Oh.

"Nah-" Grian chuckles to himself, patting Scar on the shoulder.

Scar watches as he continues up ahead, looking at the feathered tail with a new perspective. A glare. That explains why his feathers look so real — they’re a feature all Glares possess to varying degrees – and his deep inky eyes that never seem to shrink, even in the harsh light. Maybe the wings are just artificial add-ons, but that doesn’t feel right — they’re far too realistic and fluid. He shakes the thought out of his head. It probably isn’t polite to dwell on it, the subject is obviously something Grian doesn’t want to talk about.

But no, Scar isn’t about to be done with this conversation completely.

"Prove you’re a glare, then."

Grian, who had walked slightly ahead, stops and turns around to give Scar an almost offended look before he shrugs, replacing it with an amused, yet tired one.

“Sure,” he says with a resigned sigh.

Without warning, everything in Scar’s sight goes dark, like an all-encompassing shadow out of nowhere, the murky nothingness only just reaching his toes. He sticks his hands out in front of him, looking at them as they become outlined by a dark void.

He knows what this is. Most glares possess this skill, it’s the baseline ability tied to their magic. ‘Darkness’ he thinks he remembers it being called. Scar has never experienced it first hand though, and he can’t help but ogle the slightly frightening power.

“Whoah-”

As quickly as it appeared, the gloom flees, leaving him with the less-than-friendly, hot reflective sands.

Grian looks at him curiously, his arms crossed.

“Okay, so believe me now?”

Scar smiles, nodding vigorously.

“That was sooo cool!!”

Grian very hesitantly smiles back, turning away before Scar can process it completely.

Despite his wary demeanour, he secretly revels in the reaction, not quite being able to help but grin to himself.

“Can you do illusion magic too?” Scar asks, making Grian's steps hesitate for just a second, the mood in the air changing quickly. His back is still facing Scar, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing the slight shudder in Grian’s shoulders, and the subtle flicks of his feathers.

“…No,” is all he says in slow response… too slowly.

Ah, so another sour subject, it feels like Scar is collecting them all. As much as he wants to pry, he feels like he has asked enough.

There’s a lapse in their conversation as Scar's eyes wander. They both continue walking, albeit slowly, probably due to Grian's obvious intent to savour the shade when passing through it.

"If the sun's bothering you that much, why don't you just do the darkness thing to yourself?" Scar inquires, filling the silence.

"That's not how it works. It's only a perception, I don't actually switch off the sun," Grian replies, his voice back with some light, the previous question forgotten.

"Oh."

"And trust me, oh how I want to switch off this sun." He holds his long claws up to the sky, imitating crushing the light that peeks from the shade touching the tips of his claws.

“I'll still get the painful headache even if I make everything dark for me.”

Scar glances down to his waist, where his own helmet has been clipped. He once again catches up to Grian, leg braces creaking slightly.

"… I could give you my helmet." He hands it to him.

Grian looks down at the poor thing with a gentle look on his face.

"It's got a huge crack in it, so it's pretty much useless. Sorry about that, by the way." He flicks a guilty look at Scar before settling back into stride ahead of him.

"I wouldn't call it useless-'' Scar looks down at it with a frown. He hopes he can repair it, it’s dear to him.

"Even if it wasn't, I would never put that thing on."

"What’s wrong with the cat ears?" Scar questions, a smile evident in his voice. He knows well that it isn’t his cute accessories that’s deterring Grian from putting the helmet on, he just thinks it’s amusing to indicate so.

He holds up the helmet up in front of Grian, closing one eye and envisioning him wearing it with a smirk.

Grian squawks out a laugh and pushes the helmet aside, "Hah. Ironically, I don’t have a problem with that, though I wouldn’t break the dress code just to put cat ears on a helmet."

"You know about the codes?"

"Sorta. I mean, I've unfortunately become very familiar with them – know your enemy or whatever."

"You really don't like vindicators, then," Scar says, with no malice in his voice. He’s more curious than anything.

"I feel like that much should be obvious."

Scar hops ahead of Grian, stepping slightly in front of him so that Grian has no choice but to look at him. "Well, I'm okay, right?" Scar smiles tilting his head.

He watches the bird’s gaze shift from the dust on Scar’s boots up to meet his eye, a brow raised.

And with a genuine smile and quiet laugh, Grian answers "Yeah, you're alright".

—

"Be careful they might be dangerous."

While navigating through a particularly maze-like part of the ravine. Grian had stopped abruptly, and grabbed Scar by the shirt mid-conversation, pulling him around a corner.

Scar attempted to ask what was wrong only for Grian to shush him, hissing about how he’d seen two figures deeper in.

Wiggling slightly out of Grian's hold, Scar popped his head around briefly, catching a glance at their new company.

There were, in fact, two figures who sat up against a stony wall as the passage opened up, connecting to another, larger passage. Scar and Grian had an advantage, as the corner shielded them from view. One figure had their back to them, their large silhouette obscuring the other figure from view. The only indication there was even two, being the distinct overlap of a conversation that could barely be heard from where Grian and Scar were hidden.

And that brings them to the present, with Scar tapping his chin, debating different ideas of how to approach them. Grian listens as he impatiently claws at the ground, grumbling at each suggestion that leaves the other's mouth.

There’s a quiet shift in the sand to Scar's side and he turns to watch as Grian shifts closer to him, his shoulders hunched slightly and wings puffed up.

Scar finds himself suppressing the urge to compare him to a pinecone.

"Why would they be dangerous?" Scar asks, tilting his head slightly. Confused about the other's comment.

Grian splutters, mouth working but not making noises aside from baffled squeaks before he eventually coughs.

"… I mean, I was a stranger a mere hours ago and I had a blade to your heart, dude." His voice pitches up at the end, causing him to flinch when it echoes slightly against the walls. He ducks as if that would stop the sound, scooting closer to Scar, further from the stranger's direction.

"….Well, you're not doing that right now." Scar smiles a wide grin, hushing his voice pointedly before shrugging.

Grian just stares at him, almost as if testing Scar’s smile, before he rolls his eyes and scoffs,

"… Can't argue with that logic."

Scar's smile grows slowly, bright and excited at Grian's agreement. He watches all of Grian's feathers stand up even more somehow, catching on to Scar's enthusiasm.

“Don't-”

"Glad you trust me!" Scar beams.

"I wouldn't go that far, trust is a strong word," Grian pulls a dubious look before grumbling and looking away. He shakes his shoulders as if trying to suppress the stress that’s putting him and his feathers on edge.

“I honestly don't think it's a good idea to even approach them– People are almost always bad news in these situations. We could just work our way around them…” he trails off mumbling to himself.

“But that's no fun!” Scar hums lightly, nudging the bird out of his strategizing. “Besides, they could help us!”

Grian doesn’t reply, just huffs with a scowl that squishes his face comically.

Scar absently scratches at his chin before he leans up against the wall pressing his forearm high above Grian, leaning over, the other doing a double take, clearly taken back by how much Scar is leaning over into his space. He'll have to put on his charm to try and convince the bird, his most effective tactic.

"You're nervous but I can assure you this, I can gain any advantage in a situation, just by talking" He gives him a cheesy lopsided grin.

"What- do you possess the ability to talk someone to death? Boredom? Into sleep, perhaps?" Grian replies in the most mocking and deadpan tone, meeting his energy.

"All of the above!!! Depending on the weather of course," He says, leaning in slightly with a whisper before bouncing back to that quietish tone of his, "and then I steal their stuff!!" Scar grins with more eagerness than Grian has seen in quite some time, causing the glare to let out a slight wheeze of laughter, raising an incredulous brow.

"Wow, you're really starting to sound more like a criminal." He veers his head to the side, grinning widely up at Scar, and bearing his sharp teeth.

Scar retracts his arm from the wall, an unsure look spoiling his smile. He can’t help darting his eyes to the side, almost taken aback by the former statement. "I mean … not if they're the bad guy, right?"

“That's a very rudimentary way of thinking.” Grian's grin falters slightly, that cold look flickering over him briefly, as his eyes narrow. He shakes away whatever thought he had, bringing the prior conversation back.

“Fine, you do you're talking thing then,” the bird swats at the air absently.

“And you'll be my hype man?” Scar bounces on his toes excitedly.

Grian gives too blank of an expression before pushing up his shoulders. “I'll do something,”

“AHA! Be amazed, small friend! At my infectious likeableness,” Scar stands up straighter and puffs out his chest, before moving to turn around the corner between them and the strangers only for sharp claws to gently grab his arm.

“Wait-”

“Oh oh! W-what?” Scar looks around shocked, but nothing is amiss, just the surprisingly warm touch of metal talons.

“You're intending to make a good impression, right?”

Scar splutters awkwardly as Grian doesn’t give him time to answer the obvious question.

“My advice? I'd hide that you're a Vindicator."

“…why?”

“Ah–” Grian awkwardly chuckles, retracting his grip and scratching at his head. “I thought I’d already established that the general public isn't too fond–” he loosely gestures Scar up and down.

Scar raises a brow, leaning on his hip and looking down at the bird. “Really? Are you the general public?” He smirks at his own witty remark.

“Just take my word for it, this definitely isn't Spawn, and I bet you haven't even travelled off planet before. You have that sparkly dumb innocent look in your eyes–”

Scar gasps and clutches his hand to his chest in false offence.

“I’m just saying, if you wanna do the whole friendly talking thing, I'd recommend not immediately making it known that you're a Vindicator.” Grian huffs.

Scar looks down dumbly at the bright blue jacket tied around his waist. Grian follows his line of sight and muffles a laugh, noticing Scar's mild panic at the glaring obvious beacon of his faction, taunting him along with a bright stitched ‘V’ clearly visible even with it tied at his waist.

“Just– turn it inside out or something–”

“Oh! Smart!” Scar claps his hands, wincing as the noise echoed against the walls. Grian glares at him.

He fumbles with the jacket, taking it off and turning it inside out before tying it back around his waist, and nodding with satisfaction. He looks back towards Grian, the glare watching him slightly amused. “Now, Bird friend, watch as I charm these members of the ‘general public’ with my insatiable charisma!”

“… You already said that. There's only so much ‘impressed’ I can hand out, I'm afraid.”

Scar ignores him as he brushes off as much dust as he can to look somewhat presentable. He leans forward with a step but stops as quickly as he started when his company doesn't make a move with him.

“You're not… coming with??”

“I am, I just want to linger back, for safety reasons– you know?” Grian still stands with his arms crossed but his face has morphed into something far more neutral, clawed feet firmly digging into their place in the sand.

“Oh! Smart!” Scar replies. He continues, but not before catching the faint flicker of a smile from his companion.

Scar confidently marches towards the strangers, too distracted by his plan to notice the quiet whoosh of feathers behind him.

“Why, hello there!”

“EEEEK!”

“OH MY GOSH–” both of the strangers scream at Scar, frantically scrambling back in the sand up to a stand.

The shorter one gawks at Scar, their left arm held stiffly as their right tugs on the other's sleeve pulling them both back further. They push themselves in front in an act that almost could have been intimidating if the other wasn't practically two times their size.

Now, up close, Scar takes the two in. The shorter one appears to be a blazeborn, fuzzy and yellow with clothes that looked like they weren't originally suited for the heat, evident by the thick winter coat tied around their waist, mirroring Scar’s, and the torn-off sleeves of their shirt. The other stands several heads taller, also strangely cradling their right arm. They’re far less identifiable, but the several neat feathers that frame their face and shoulders definitely imply that they’re probably at least glare adjacent, even with their height. They’re wearing what can be described as cowboy attire, sans a hat, and look far more in place in this setting.

“Oh, you're just a guy…” the taller one eventually speaks out after their initial panic.

“Yup, just a guy!” Scar stands up straighter, suppressing a wince as his leg braces squeak obnoxiously. “Sorry to cause a fright,” he smiles apologetically.

The two of them glance at each other, then back to Scar with bewildered expressions.

“I think I might be lost! And maybe you are too? We were wondering if you could help”.

“We?” One of them asks.

“OH! Well! I'm Scar and this here is my lackey.” He turns to look for Grian only to be met with the empty, dusty ground and no bird in sight.

“They're …not here?”

“Who-” Scar hears one of them ask. He doesn’t even have time to turn to identify who before a flurry of feathers swoops down and blocks his view.

The two figures scream for a second time as the taller one is pushed roughly aside by brown wings, falling clumsy in the sand and landing in a way that causes them to choke out a yelp.

“OW OW OW, I CAN'T SEE!” They sit up quickly with one arm hanging loosely over their chest, the other grasping and rubbing at their face and eyes in confusion. They continue to yell in panic, “WHAT HAPPENED I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING-”

“Drop whatever weapons you have,” Grian turns, holding the blaze in his grasp. He holds his wings wrapped around them, keeping their arms pinned. He uses one of his clawed hands to cover their mouth, the other holding a blue, glowing blade to their neck.

“What- what happened to the talking plan?” Scar sways on his feet. Too much is happening in such a brief moment, and all his plans for conversations are useless, blown to the wind.

“Too slow,” Grian replies bluntly.

The figure in Grian’s grasp desperately tries to muster out a muffled scream against Grian's hand, only causing the bird to tighten his hold and sword to their neck.

Scar feels lost. He looks to the other who is still on the ground, using one hand to touch the sand.

“I can't see!- It's all dark- Tango?!-”

The pure distress in their voices, mixed with the muffled yelping of the other, makes Scar falter, his mind short-circuiting in the chaos. He weirdly feels scared, that same fear of Grian and his cold look is all too familiar to barely a day ago. A fear that he apparently didn't realise still has a frightful hold on him, his shoulder pulsing passively with pain on cue with the memory.

Despite the fear, he can’t help but step forward, reaching out to diffuse the situation.

Strangely enough, Grian flinches back. He stares up at Scar like he had completely forgotten he was there, his confused look immediately being chased away as the trapped stranger shifts in his hold. His expression quickly returning to an unreadable one.

“Let them talk… maybe? Please?” Scar asks slowly. Grian looks up at him with those deep dark eyes, cold and empty before a nearly embarrassed look crosses his face. He lowers the hand that had held the stranger's mouth, but the blade, however, is still pinned to their throat.

Immediately the blaze gasps and begins yelling “Please we're injured, we mean no harm- please-”

“…. Huh,” Grian squeezes tighter subconsciously, as they kick in his grasp.

“Our arms- OW! QUIT IT- LET GO!”

They shove against Grian, his grip loosening just enough for them to push out as he moves his blade. All of a sudden the bird looks incredibly guilty.

“What the hell man!” The shorter man scrambles to their partner's side, leaning down and giving them their arm to grab onto. They keep their eyes on Grian, scowling as the other weakly uses their hold to stand up.

In an almost too cheery voice for the situation, the taller one speaks, “I can see again! What was that?”

Their gaze immediately lands on Grian, who tenses under it.

“You’re a bird?” They mutter dumbly after rubbing their eyes and squinting at him.

Grian steps back, still holding his weapon by his side. He gives the tall man a look up and down his expression twisting into something uncomfortable.

“Not one of yours,” he mumbles back.

“Sorry, sorry?” the taller coughs, completely confused, but Grian ignores them.

“You're hurt, both of you?” Grian hums, pointing the end of his sword in their direction as he makes a move to stand by Scar's side, who stands, silently wringing his hands, considering his next steps.

They both nod, fear and anger plain on their faces, each holding an arm tightly to their chests.

A quiet sort of relief washes over Grian as he puts away his sword. His expression morphing into amusement, with a tinge of sheepishness.

“Wow, that's inconvenient! You don't pose much of a threat then, huh?” He tries to joke and smile, the expression faulting only when their company makes no indication of finding that comment funny, at all.

Scar shifts awkwardly to his side, considering many different options on what to do next moves through his head before he steps in front of Grian, a goofy grin being plastered across his lips.

“So… maybe we should start over?”

“You think?” The blaze spits, their shimmering flame-like hair sparking in reaction.

“We were only taking precautions, there are dangerous people in this big universe, you know!” Scar tries to lessen the anger with that same cheesy grin.

“I'd argue, you're one of them! Or at least they are,” They point towards the bird, who does nothing but look away, crossing his arms.

“Just a common misunderstanding, we apologise. Let me reintroduce myself-” Scar tries to step forward with a handshake, but both of them move away from him pointedly. Instead, he retreats to Grian’s side, putting his hands up defensively, giving them more space to feel safe.

“Well, I'm Scar! Like I- already mentioned-” he nervously chuckles the last bit, then gestures to the glare. “-and this is Grian”

“Ah, so we're giving them our names- cool,” the other grumbles, his back practically turned to them, appearing like he’s given up on the exchange.

A tense atmosphere falls heavily on the four as awkward silence fills the air. Scar's eyes glance to the taller of the duo, who meets his gaze with a similar, nervous expression, unlike the blazeborn who stands next to them, festering with an anger that seems to almost crackle off of them in flames.

The tall one eventually finds the courage to speak, unsure and hesitant, without the anger and murderous look that their companion seems to have.

"Well, I'm Jimmy! And this is Tango!" Jimmy speaks with a similar cheer and charisma to Scar.

"Yup," the blaze, Tango, snaps with a slight snarl on his lips. His injured arm tightly held against his body, crossing over his chest as he stares daggers in the direction of Scar and Grian. There’s another pause of quiet that only causes the air to grow more uneasy, so thick with awkwardness that it can be cut with a knife. Tango and Grian stand their ground while Jimmy begins to kick at the sand absent-mindedly and an awkward cough escapes from Scar.

The former can't help but wring his hands once again, standing unsure in the moment before he decides to speak once again, "You seem tense,"

"YOU THINK?" Tango barks out, that snarl only growing angrier as he drops his hand to his side and balls it into raging fists.

Jimmy quickly tries to hop to some sort of defence, "We haven't seen anybody yet- we didn't really expect anyone to-" he’s cut off by Tango's eyes whipping over to look at him, the blazeborn pointing a finger to his neck,

"A KNIFE. TO MY THROAT." He speaks loud and clear making it obvious, if anyone can't tell, why he’s angry.

At that, Grian turns to the conversation, his tail flicking behind him. “Ah- Well, I didn't break your skin and, you know, I apologised.”

“Actually, you haven’t-” Jimmy points out, frowning.

“Oh… sorry?” Grian shrugs.

“I already dislike you-”

He ignores Jimmy turning to Scar with a neutral expression, “Right, Scar, ready to go?“

“What?”

“YOU'RE GOING TO JUST LEAVE US?” Jimmy shouts whilst Tango just looks unsurprised.

“Well, you're both injured so-” Grian says nonchalantly, not bothering to finish his sentence like it’s obvious.

“THAT'S CRIMINAL-” Jimmy squawkes.

Grian doesn’t reply, instead, lightly reaching for Scar, a weird sort of hesitance to his grasp, looking as if he’s going to grab Scar's arm, only to move to pull at his shirt. Scar doesn't move.

“We could- help them?”

Grian looks at him with a troubled look but doesn't say anything in response.

“You know?” He, in fact, makes no indication of knowing. “We have medical supplies, remember?”

Tango's eyebrow shoots up, his angry scowl morphing into intrigue. “Healing?”

“SCAR- Cool now they know our names and our resources-” the bird grumbles, Eying the two with a cold glare. He crunches up his nose, then looks back to Scar. “We're not giving them anything for free.”

“…Well I mean, we could always offer a trade.” Scar tries to smile, trying his best to appeal to Grian with a warm grin.

Grian takes in a deep breath, contemplating for a couple of seconds before he points at the strangers and clicks his tongue. “What do you two have to offer?”

“Do you have an ender chest?” Scar pipes in quickly.

“…No.”

“We don't really have anything-”

Grian hums in acknowledgement then smirks at Scar. “There you go, shall we leave then-”

Tango interrupts quickly as the winged man once again tries to pull Scar away. “We have some knowledge! You said you’re lost! I know some things to help! About this game-”

“Game?” Scar repeats.

“No thank you-” Grian now switches from pulling at Scar to pushing him.

“But aren't you curious? We have theories!”

“All good, we have our own plans, thank you.” He huffs in an effort to try and move Scar, but for once Scar has an advantage over him in height and strength. He barely moves.

“Okay! Deal!” Scar finally replies.

“SCAR!” Grian stops pushing Scar, instead staring at him like an angry feathered hedgehog. It takes all of Scar’s willpower not to laugh at him.

“We'll only tell you anything once you heal us,” Tango adds.

“Hah! As if that wasn't already a bad deal-” Grian mumbles mostly to himself.

“-What about during?”

“Okay, during.” Tango agrees to Scar.

Grian finally acknowledges the blaze, as he holds a hand to his chest and baps at Scar with the other. He scowles between them all. “Hey, hey. I'm the one with the supplies, you should be negotiating with me-”

He cuts himself off at the look Scar gives him. His lips press into a tight frown as he crosses his arms and taps his claws, the processing of his thoughts buried deep in his brow.

Scar tilts his head at him slightly.

“Ugh fine,” Grian finally relents, before huffing off to the side and making an upset display of sitting down and disrupting the dusty sand with a flap of his wings, the others coughing slightly.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Take a seat. Let me heal your stupid bones,” he finally spits when the others don’t make any motion, prompting the pair to finally move.

“Oh, it's really rich of you to think I'd let you get anywhere near to my arm again-” Tango replies, unamused.

“Well you're going to just have to deal with it,” Grian replies to Tango with a sardonic grin, “These are my supplies and I'd like to keep some autonomy in this situation.”

“If it makes you feel any better he healed me pretty well,” Scar chimes in, pulling his tank top aside, to show off the slightly bloody gauze. Tango scrutinises the wound, hissing sympathetically, looking towards Grian who’s trying and failing to look not guilty.

“… I suppose.” Jimmy hums, next to Tango.

Both he and Tango awkwardly shuffle towards the winged man, within arms reach of each other, they sit down in unison, Tango’s tail hooking onto Jimmy's ankle.

“You! Beanpole! Give me your arm” Grian moves closer, sitting up on his knees.

“Me?” Jimmy replies confused.

“Yes you, I don't see any actual bean poles around here do you? I'm talking to your daft mug.”

“You don't have to insult me so much, man-” Jimmy grumbles as he complies, as Grian makes a start on assessing his injuries.

There’s a couple of minutes of uncomfortable quiet, occasionally interrupted by grumbles and yelps. Scar stands, watching his company. He looks towards Tango, who it keeping a calculated watch on what Grian is doing.

“You didn't expect to be here…” Scar slowly sits in front of Tango. His eyes bright with intrigue.

Tango just turns to look at him confused. “What?”

“Those clothes-” Scar points at the thick coat, cushioning the blaze as he sits crossed-legged.

“Oh! OH, that's actually pretty intuitive.” He smiles at Scar and scoots closer indicating for him to listen.

“Yeah I'm not from here, I was working on a pretty cold planet, before …uh.”

“Waking up with no memories of how you got here?” Scar finishes, beaming.

Tango leans back, his grin faltering slightly. “…Yeah.”

“How'd you know that!?” Jimmy asks from behind them, apparently having been listening in.

“We're the same! Actually! We don't remember at all how we got here.”

“Even him?” Tango gestures coldly over his shoulders, not even looking in Grian's direction.

“Even him!”

“Interesting,” Tango appears to drift into his thoughts before Grian coughs loudly.

“Alright then, if you want me to do this, well, you better start to tell your story.”

Tango shoots him an angry look, then dusts off his trousers before sitting up straight, getting comfortable. He looks at Scar, coughs, and smiles.

“Well, first you gotta know some of my history.”

Scar watches Grian roll his eyes from over Tango's shoulder.

“I worked as… hmmm sorta freelance. I'm an architect, redstoner- weird lil’ guy with a nac for bizarre contraptions. I take all and any kind of jobs I can find across the universe, a travelling mechanic if you will,” Tango grins, pleased. “I'm actually- saving up so I can own a hermit settlement, start a small self-sustaining industry, build all kinds of wacky farms! Just work for me, you know?”

He pauses, waiting for a response only to be met with puzzled looks.

“Uhhh that's beside the point. What I’m getting at is that owning the land to make a hermit settlement is a lot of money and prep. And as it goes, the jobs that pay the most tend to be the most…. questionable. I like to believe I'm a good judge of character when it comes to my clients, I know when the people who are giving me a tempting offer are bad news, and I usually decline. I'm not about putting myself in trouble for a pretty price.”

Tango inhales, his thumb worrying over his knuckle, and continues.

“But there was this one job- These very mysterious individuals offered me a job to create a game! It honestly was a very tempting offer, because they were giving me so much free range with what I built. The only requirement was that any number of people could enter the game and there could only be one winner. And they offered me a lot of money for it.”

Scar clocks Grian making a small sneer.

“So I took it, I took the deal and started designing my game. I uhhh- I sort of made, think like… dungeon crawler type deal.”

“Wait but you said you didn't make dungeons,” Jimmy interrupts.

“Going to be honest, I didn't expect you to hit that nail on the head.” Tango turns to Jimmy, giving him a small smile, before patting him gently on his shoulder. “Pretty impressive.”

Jimmy splutters, his expressions flip flopping between being offended and proud.

“Anyway… as I was saying, the more I worked for them, the more I started to suspect a few things. They kept insisting on things in my design to be more…”

He swirled his hand around “Let's say lethal. And that was before I started noticing how much resources and wealth my employer owned. They kept giving me things with ease, I started even asking for stuff I knew was hard to find like enchantments and whatnot. And they didn't even sweat.”

He cuts himself off, a conflicted look shadowing his face.

“When I put my energy into a project, I put my whole heart in. This dungeon was my… my child! I’d been working on it for months! Almost years! I didn't like how they were twisting it. They kept taking away the things I included to make the game fair. And that was my last straw.”

“I ran, and I tried to take all the important endgame design prints with me. I couldn't let them use my work to hurt people in the gruesome ways that they so clearly wanted to do. And now I'm here.”

“…Oh, that's rough,” Scar replies.

Nodding Tango stares down at his lap, rubbing at the worn pads of his hands. He looks genuinely sad for a minute before he shakes that look away and carries on.

“Yeah, so what I'm saying is- I got to see enough of the kind of work these people were doing to notice a pattern.”

“The people I worked for were definitely Enders, and I believe they're probably pretty high up considering rather than taking planets and trading pearls, they were employing people to take their enemies and put them into ‘games' for their entertainment.”

“And I think we're in one of those games right now,”

Tango grins wildly, holding a finger up to emphasise his conclusion.

“WHOA, what really?”

“Ugh,” Grian grumbles.

“And if my assumption is correct, I think we've all wronged an Ender before, right?”

He shuffles so that all four of them were sat in a circle.

“I mean- me! Clearly, with leaving the job.” He points to himself and then to Jimmy. “You said something about Enders secretly operating in the town you were sheriffing.”

Grian’s gloomy expression immediately gets replaced with intrigue as he looks up from his lap for the first time during the conversation with Jimmy.

“You're a sheriff?” Scar asks.

“YES, I am for a matter of fact, from a small town on the Nether.” Jimmy smiles widely, adjusting his hair confidently.

“Now that's surprising…” Grian remarks to himself.

Jimmy either doesn't hear or ignores him as he continues. “Well it's more a self-proclaimed title, not much goes on in my town and I mostly just… give directions to the elderly and get bullied by local kids,”

“Nevermind.”

Jimmy shoots Grian a dirty look, the latter smirking back before he goes back to working on the supplies in his lap.

“But yes! Recently I tried to uncover a mystery and encountered Enders,”

“And that's the last thing you remember doing right?” Tango inquires.

“… Yeah, actually.”

He looks towards Scar “And you… what about you?”

“Oh.”

Everyone looks at Scar with intrigue. Grian has his head dipped down still, his gaze, though, points, staring straight at him.

Ah, right, not-a-Vindicator time.

“Well, I'm a mayor, as a matter of fact.”

Everyone looks at him like it was the last thing they expected him to say, including Grian.

Scar coughs, chasing off the nervous wobble in his voice and he sits up straight ready to prove his charm.

“For a pretty unknown-” Scar awkwardly trails off, not really familiar enough with space life for his own lie. “…hermit settlement! A beloved staple of the community, birds and children sing when I roam the streets.”

The others look at him speechless, he can feel them doubting him. Alright then, maybe he should learn to be more believable.

“The last thing I remember doing, actually, was chasing a criminal down an alley!” He settles on. He sees Grian go still. “It was epic and had glorious explosions and everything, a truly action-filled adventure-”

He stops when he feels Grian subtly thump him with his tail. Hiding the movement by sitting up, done with dressing Jimmy's wounds and moving on to Tango.

Tango ignores him, too interested in Scar’s story. “Was this criminal an Ender by chance?”

“Oh! Yes!” He very almost forgot that was what Tango was asking to begin with.

Tango sits up straighter with a look of triumph and excitement on his face.“That makes three out of four.”

“…Not a chance,” Grian says coldly.

Tango finally turns to him, Grian looking up whilst sorting out the supplies he has left.

“What?”

“I'm not telling you my story like we're all sat around a campfire-”

“We're trying to help, isn't that what you asked for?” Tango argues.

“This isn't helpful information, it's just a lot of assumptions and guesses.”

“Calculated guesses! And besides, what else could you possibly know about what's going on? Enlighten me,” Tango challenges him.

“I don't… but I also don't see how knowing all this even helps us in our current situation.”

Grian leans back from where he had been hunched over, closes his eyes, and flings his hand around in an almost smug way. “Yada yada, scary rich people put a bunch of losers into a death game. That doesn't help me whilst we're supposedly in one.”

“You find yourself in a lot of death games then?” Tango grins bitterly.

“I- '' Somehow that waveres Grian’s response briefly, he clears his throat before resuming. “I like information that helps. This doesn't- this doesn't fix a broken arm or get us any closer to escaping.”

“Well maybe it can- we can go ahead knowing that there's probably traps or trials set for us.” Scar says. The two look at Jimmy and Scar who had been quietly observing their conversation.

“Like the beeping!” Jimmy responds.

“Yeah-”

“OH, THE PHANTOMS!” Scar exclaims.

“Phantoms?”

Scar wiggles in the dust with delight. “Yeah! We encountered phantoms on our journey, which is a pretty odd place to find them,”

“Stole my helmet,” Grian grumbles, less happy.

“Yeah… they were definitely placed here intentionally, we almost got killed by them!” Scar exclaims. He sits up straighter and puffs out his chest. “But I fought them off valiantly.”

Tango and Jimmy share a doubtful look.

“And what about you two- did you guys encounter anything strange?” Scar claps his hands together, intrigued.

Grian rests on his arm and gestures loosely to them. “Strange enough to break both your arms?”

At that both Jimmy and Tango look at each other, coming to a realisation that makes them both grin wildly at each other.

“OH and THAT'S another thing,” Jimmy says far too gleefully.

“The game makers must have included this other mechanic to make it difficult for us!” Tango injects, matching his energy. He and Jimmy talk in slightly hushed yet excited voices to one another, Tango playfully pushing at Jimmy and whispering something about how it all made sense now.

Scar and Grian just blink blankly, clearly missing something. When neither of the two gives them context, instead excitedly making noises at each other over a discovery, Scar coughs.

“What mechanic?” He leans closer, curiously.

“We are linked! Somehow!” Jimmy exclaims loudly.

“It's probably a curse and enchantment related. But we feel and suffer the same wounds, hence… broken arms'' Tango adds.

“So you both broke your arm?” Scar hums still confused.

“No no just Jimmy, he fell.”

“Gracefully!” Jimmy interrupts with too much enthusiasm.

“Gracefully… from the top of the ravine. I was just walking nearby and received the injury too,” Tango sits back a little and loosely holds up his injured arm.

Scar hums to himself, gaze jumping between his company and their injuries. “So it's a proximity thing?”

Tango sits up fast with a gasp of excitement. “That's a good point! I don't know.”

He leans forward cautiously, still holding his bad arm to his chest as he beckons Scar to come closer.

Both Jimmy and Grian look at each other confused before Tango flicks Scar hard on the nose. Causing him to make a startled yelp noise.

With how they lean over, neither manages to notice as Grian also flinches, hand briefly touching his own nose, before he notices Jimmy watching him and stops.

“Nope didn't feel that,” Tango says, veering back to his previously comfortable position.

Scar reclines back too, leg braces creaking slightly as he rubs his nose and makes a small sad noise.

“Did you?” Tango turns to Jimmy who’s looking weirdly at Grian.

Tango nudges him, the taller shaking out of whatever thought he was having.

“Oh- no I didn't.”

He looks back to Grian who’s in the process of not so subtly shifting further from the others.

“Maybe… Are you two together?” Jimmy prompts, pinning Grian specifically with a look.

Obliviously, Scar says, “We just met,” still holding his nose.

“No, he meant the weird pain link thing,” Tango responds with a slight laugh.

“Oh!! Hold on-” Scar excitedly lifts his head up, his sore nose quickly forgotten. He turns to Grian who had been trying his best to not be noticed the whole exchange.

Moving too fast and suddenly, Scar goes to pinch his arm, only to hit his hand against metal. The realisation hits him dumbly, but not before he watches Grian cry out and pull back fearfully with an expression Scar doesn’t think he's ever seen on the man's face before.

Grian regains his composure quicker than Scar. He shakes off the scared look on his face but keeps his arms held close to his chest protectively.

Scar goes to apologise but Grian's voice interprets him. His attention directed away from Scar.

“No, we're not linked.”

Tango shrugs, titling his head at Jimmy and smiling.

“Well, maybe it's a thing specific to us,”

Jimmy pulls a slightly unconvinced face before agreeing. “Yeah probably.”

Grian finishes patching up Tango, ignoring the three as they descend into rambles and theories about it all.

He packs away his remaining supplies, looking pleased with his two patients' bandaged and slung arms, even as they pay him no mind.

He stands up, Scar is the first to look at him with a questioning expression.

“Welp! Considering I'm done… and you've given your less-than-useful information, I think it's our time to leave,” Grian brushes the dust off his trousers and holds out a hand for Scar.

“Scar?”

Scar doesn't move, he looks at the others and back to Grian, a guilty look on his face. “I actually think we should all stick together–”

Grian doesn't respond, instead pulling his hand away slowly. Scar continues.

“There’s clearly something much bigger going on here and I think teaming up is a safer option,”

The bird remains silent, his feathers betraying his blank face as they all pin. He blinks at Scar.

“I agree,” Jimmy speaks up awkwardly after a prolonged quiet.

Tango grins. “You're more than free to go off on your own,” he says snidely.

“Ah, well…” Scar splutters, standing up and holding his hands out, that's not what he meant at all, but Grian beats him to a response.

“No.”

“Wow… what a change of heart, you're scared of being alone?” Tango teases.

Grian pays no mind to the comments, his hurt look settling on Scar instead.

“Scar please, I can protect us both we don't need…” he loses his confidence, the end of his sentence teetering off.

Scar lets his arms hang at his side, as he looks at Tango and Jimmy, still sitting by each other's side. Now with both their arms in slings and, despite Tango's intimating expression, looking slightly pathetic in the hot sun.

“… they're hurting, Grian, I need to help,” he gives Grian a pleading look.

The glare stares at Scar, he seems to take in all of him, annoyed and confused. When suddenly, a brief flicker of understanding fills his features.

“… Grian?” Grian doesn’t look at him, instead, he stares at the dust to his side. Tail flicking at his side in frustration.

“I'm not leaving you,” he says simply. Refusing to elaborate.

A small part of Scar is surprised by Grian's response, his weird protectiveness over Scar, especially in context to how he’d acted towards the others. Scar can’t help but smile softly, even if Grian isn’t looking at him.

“So you'll agree to be a group?”

The bird turns to him with a hard look on his face, a disruption on his tongue before he cuts himself off, face flushing red when he realises Scar is smiling at him with a completely different energy. He bows his head slightly. “I'm staying with you, but I do not trust them.”

—

Scar sits down, explaining their travel plan, which honestly wasn't much since all they had done was travel in the direction of supposed man-made structures that had been spotted, hoping to not die in the process.

Grian positions himself slightly behind Scar as they all start laying out all their possessions. Comparing their resources with each other.

Out of everyone, Jimmy still has the most on him, carrying one container of water, which he apparently had forgotten about, he lets Grian and Scar take a swig, Tango insisting he doesn’t need it as much with being a blaze. They also have Grian's healing supplies, which at this point aren't very much, just a few alcohol wipes and gauze. Then also some dried meat Jimmy had and one package of dried cat treats that Scar had been carrying, and no one seems stoked about potentially eating.

Besides that, all they have is some random useless items in people’s pockets, all laid out in front of them. Anxious, taking in the unfortunate sight of what they have to survive on. Scar sits on his knees, ignoring how the braces creak as he leans on them.

Tango is watching Grian closely, mumbling under his voice like he’s trying to get Grian's attention, but the latter knows and deliberately ignores him.

Tango finally clears his throat and speaks up, tapping the sand in front of Grian to ensure he has his attention. “You have your weapon with you,” he says like it isn’t a question.

“Yes.” Grian doesn’t look at him, instead rewrapping a rope they had found in one of Jimmy's pockets. The rope rings slightly against his metal digits as he pulls the thread between them.

“So we all have our comms, storage, and defensive tools missing except for you,” Tango states snarkily.

“Well, I also have my comms and other stuff missing. Guess they accidentally skipped out on the knife.”

“How convenient for you,”

Grian deliberately disregards Tango's biting word, looking up at the other two. “We might have enough for a day or two more of travel? Could even hunt along the way… if there are even any animals.”

“The knife will be handy then.” Scar tries, looking at Tango with a cheery smile.

“Could also… maybe… find plants?” Jimmy says, They all look around at the dry, sandy landscape, only occupied by the occasional dead shrub, with dismay.

“How much collective knowledge do we have with foraging?”

“I used to be a baker!” Scar interjects excitedly.

“Cool!- But I don't see any flour or water, don't know how that's going to help us in this situation, bud,” Grian pats Scar on the back.

“Unless you are secretly an enderian and can just … teleport bread to us or something,” Tango adds jokingly.

“I'm not-”

“Are you?” Grian cuts in, the others realising quickly that he’s addressing Jimmy with a weird look.

Jimmy looks up confused, apparently not paying attention to where the conversation had drifted. “What?”

“You’re very tall… thought maybe-”

“Oh no, I'm a glare!” he replies.

Grian goes strangely still, that cold look filling his face. He looks like he wants to say something, but chooses against it, going back to meaninglessly fiddling with a rope.

“Well, it would have been super convenient to be an enderian with y’know …the lack of water,” Tango hums next to Jimmy.

“It might rain!” Jimmy notes gleefully.

“Rain? Here?”

“I mean maybe? These kinds of canyons get formed by water, so there's a real chance a flash flood might happen!” At the last statement, he looks nervous. ”Which depending on where we are, could help us or … be bad.”

“How do you know that?” Tango looks up at Jimmy with a gleam of curiosity.

“Well I get bored, and there's this neat little library in the Nether with a lot of unique landscapes and… “

Jimmy and Tango titter off into their own conversation about various formations of rocks and caverns in desert-like terrain. Scar's mind drifts aside as he watches billows of sand blow above them on the top of the ravine. He catches movement out the sides of his eye as Grian shifts.

The sun has moved more in the sky, the shade they had hidden in changing direction. The hot sun finally reaching them, first hitting the feathers on the Grian tail. He must have just noticed as he pushes himself away from it, a scowl on his face while he creeps away and bumps into Scar in the process.

They look up at each other, Grian jumping slightly when he notices he’s being watched, his ears pulling back as he looks away.

“We should get going. You guys rested enough?” He cuts the other two off, Tango drawing in the sand with his claws with Jimmy instructing him.

“Oh sure-” Jimmy replies. He stands, using his large tail to help push him up, before lending a hand to Tango.

Grian stumbles up into a stand on the sandy ground, hissing to himself and mumbling something along the lines of “dumb bird feet”. He looks at Scar who changed to sit with his legs in front of him, inspecting his leg braces and sighing.

“Those aren't meant for the desert, are they?” He holds out a hand which Scar takes, pulling himself to stand.

“Nope! Not really, more like indoor use.”

Grian frowns, opening his mouth to say something, but Tango cuts him off.

“Actually…” The blaze moves towards them, holding a hand behind his back, a snarky look crossing his face.

His gaze is glued directly on Grian as he pulls his uninjured hand out, holding it towards them. Grian's hands are still in Scar’s, he feels Grian's grip tighten subconsciously before he pulls his hand away in favour of crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Tango.

“You want this temporary alliance to go well right?”

“I mean… it would be convenient,” Grian frowns, confused about where Tango is going with this.

“Give me your knife,” Tango flicks his claws beckoning.

“… What?”

“I feel like it's very justified.”

“I'm not giving you my weapon,” Grian snaps, his hand moving to his side subconsciously.

Tango pulls his arm back, crossing it over with the other. “I still don't trust you, our minds would be more at ease if you didn't have that.” He looks up to Jimmy who’s looking over his shoulder, nodding slightly.

Scar looks at Grian whose back is turned to him, but regardless he can see the anger physically welling up, as his feathers stand up and his tail starts to flick back and forth. His claws hovering right above where the blade sits, ready.

“HAH, what do you think I care, there is no way I'd give it to you.” Grian spits.

Scar hears him take in a deep breath, sensing the start of something terrible happening. He takes a slightly stumbling step between them.

“I could take it,” Scar says simply. Both of them look up at him.

“I mean- you both seem to trust me more, so maybe I could carry it for now?” Scar tries, putting on his most easygoing smile. Tango's frown softens slightly, but that isn't who Scar is worried about most. The bird is now looking at him, a lot less spiked up with his mouth slightly open, his eyes searching Scar for something. He looks back to Tango, who just nods to Scar.

“Fine.”

Almost everyone lets out a breath of relief.

Grian pulls out his weapon, quickly, and grins to himself as he watches Jimmy and Tango flinch.

He hands it to Scar and gives him a weird look only he can see before his face morphs into a generally upset pout. Striding past them all, he barks “Follow,” and doesn't wait for them to catch up.

Scar looks at the weapon in his hands, remembering its hold before wedging it into his belt.

—

They continue with their walking, Grian at the front out of frustration over the loss of his weapons. Tango's prying eyes watch him from behind, insisting on being on the lookout for any funny behaviour.

The mood is off. Tango and Grian holding their weird rivalry and Jimmy and Scar lagging behind, looking at each other confused but not quite wanting to start small talk out of fear of getting on the other two nerves. They both opt instead to stare at the ground and savour as much of the shade as they can.

Tango is the first to break the silence.

“I don't think I trust you.”

He has his head facing forward, the anger in his voice enough to indicate he’s talking to Grian.

“I bet you’re one of them.”

“Them?” Grian almost laughs.

“Explains why you have your weapon and not us, why you're so reluctant to share why you might be here. And don't even think I forgot about your oh-so-welcoming greeting,” Tango responds with no amusement in his voice.

“What is your problem with me?”

“I think you're an Ender, a man from the inside sent down to watch us.” He says simply, pushing up his shoulders.

Grian snorts, drawing out his words. “Literally all you have against me is that I have a weapon and I’m a bit of an introvert, that's barely anything,”

“That's not all I have. What about your wings?”

The mood changes instantly, from bickering to an icy, quiet cold.

With that Scar finally looks up at the conversation, they have since all slowed down from walking to a standstill. Grian being the one to stop first as he scowls in Tango's direction.

He doesn't say a word. Tango continues with a malicious look on his face.

“And the arms, they're enchanted, right? I can basically smell it from here. You don't come across enchantments like that in the wild. And that's not even mentioning the level of skill that must have gone into those base robotics, for some random stranger– You'd have to be a part of a pretty powerful faction to get robotics like those and I definitely doubt you're a Vindicator.”

Scar watches Grian flash him a very brief glance at that name. Tango continues unaware.

“I've been around Ender technology enough to recognize its signatures, I used to work with it-”

“You don't know what you're talking about,” Grian cuts in coldly with a flat tone.

“I think I do.” Tango challenges, bearing his sharp teeth.

“Hey, hey, what about we uhh, calm down a bit?” Scar interrupts, shrugging his shoulders slightly with an open demeanour.

Tango's wild gaze jumps to him and sticks.

“I think you guys might have all come off on the wrong foot! Ahah,” Scar laughs painedly.

He stalls slightly, almost feeling the heat from Tango start to concentrate on him instead.

“I promise you, Grian is not as stabby as he seems.”

“Oh yeah?” Tango responds incredulously. “Is that why you have a stab wound on your shoulder?” He jabs his finger in the direction of Scar's shoulder, the gauze and tank top stained lightly red.

Scar shoots Grian a look, the other's eyes blown slightly more wide knowingly.

“…Unrelated circumstances,” Scar says simply.

Tango steps closer to Scar, causing him to stumble back slightly, Jimmy awkwardly drifting over his shoulder placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder briefly. “Why are you even sticking up for this guy? Didn't you say you only just met?” Tango all but growls at Scar.

“Well… We're friends.”

“No, there's something else. Something you're not telling us,”

Scar's mouth finds itself ajar, as he tries to think of what to say. Grian is painfully quiet over his shoulder.

Tango takes another step towards Scar, his mind spinning trying to figure out a believable story.

“…We made a deal!” He settles on.

“A deal?” That seems to genuinely take Tango by surprise, his imposing façade faltering.

“Yeah.”

Tango pulls a weird expression before it changes quickly as if struck by an idea. “If you made a deal maybe we could fulfil it instead, then we won't need this guy. I have the contacts, I know my loopholes. If this deal is so much more important, that you'd associate with this guy then choose what I can offer you instead. What even would it be? to you to find yourself associated with someone like him? What was it?”

“I-…” Scar hesitates and turns his gaze to where Grian is standing. The three of them have moved a considerable distance away from him during their argument, but he still stands within audible range, watching quietly.

The bird looks uncomfortable and small, he thinks. His feathers pinning and fingers flicking at his side, right where his blade would have been.

His expression looks complicated, Scar observes, like he’s expecting this situation but still feels a sense of hurt or pain. Weirdly, his gaze is fixed on the blaze rather than Scar, but he can see him fidget and glare as if he knows he’s being looked at, trying his best to avoid eye contact.

Tango coughs shuffling forward in the sand to bring Scar's attention back to him.

Scar had almost forgotten what they had asked. The deal. He wants to know what their deal was. Technically the deal wasn't even that specific, it’s just protection. That's all Grian had promised and even with a weapon, which he no longer had, in comparison to both Tango and Jimmy his usefulness might be matched.

Grian's expression makes sense now, he’s fully expecting Scar to take this deal.

Scar looks back at Grian, catching him looking at Scar before he darts his eyes away.

He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t understand why Tango is so hostile, it feels unjustified. Like he’s missing something, which is impossible. He's known Grian longer than Tango. Grian is barely a threat, yeah awkward, maybe a little impulsive and snide. But Scar doesn’t believe that justifies leaving him behind. Why is there so much bitterness between his newly acquainted companions? Why is Tango so insistent on Grian being a bad person? These questions circle around in Scar's head as he tries to think of some way he can defend Grian.

“We were going to start up a very specific business.” Scar grins.

“… What?”

“Trading goods. See, I need him because he’s got those fancy wings,” he gestures towards Grian, who’s badly concealing his bewilderment, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly, no sound escaping.

“What are you trading?”

Scar mulls it over before looking at the ground and shrugging. “….sand.”

Despite everything, Grian laughs at that. Coughing and suppressing giggles when the blazeborn shoots him a look.

“Sand?” Jimmy almost yells.

Tango taps at his chin in thought. “I- I mean I could maybe…”

Scar interrupts him. “No no no, I'm a dignified salesman. I made a deal and stayed true to my word. I'm sorry but I'll have to decline the offer,” he replies with an easy-going demeanour.

“We're now a package deal now,” he walks up to stand by Grian's side, patting his shoulder roughly.

Grian's only response is to make an awkward noise and to lean away from Scar, but not enough to actually break the space they share.

Tango looks at them both, an angry look directed at the two. Suddenly, Jimmy places a hand on his shoulder.

“I think we should just play along, even if we're suspicious of someone. I think we need all the help we can get.” The taller man says down to him, smiling slightly.

Tango takes in Jimmy's look, his frown smoothing out for a brief second before he looks back at Scar.

“Maybe I don't trust you now Scar, you've clearly also got secrets you're not telling us,”

“You're getting too caught up on secrets and mysteries, and supposed ‘them’s,” Scar puts on a wide smile, waving at the air with a nonchalant attitude.

“How about… G!” He slings his arm around Grian and pushes him in closer to the other two, while the bird sputters slightly at the new nickname.

“Promise you won't stab any of us in the back until we're free from this …game?” Scar holds him by his shoulders. Grian flinches slightly as he tries to look up at Scar only to get a face full of sun. The glare looks back at the other two, not saying a word, his ears flicking absently.

“Grian!” Scar nudges him.

“Yes, sure,” he says flatly. He crosses his arms. “I promise.”

Scar beams, looking at Tango and Jimmy. “Annddddd do you guys promise not to belittle my friend here for being a bit creepy?”

The both of them hesitate, looking up at each other, exchanging looks.

“I feel creepy is an understatement…” Tango scoffs.

“We promise,” Jimmy says at the same time.

Scar claps his hands together, Grian flinching and holding his ears at the noise. “See! Solved! We're now a team!”

No one celebrates, they all look at each other with uncomfortable hesitation, not at all meeting Scar's enthusiasm. He hops on his toes, ushering the others forward, getting them to start walking again.

“Team… yellow.” Scar looks around at his company, all pulling different forms of confused faces. “Why are you all blond?”

—

After several hours of walking, the sun had begun to dip over the horizon. They were all able to confirm the revelation that this planet has a pretty short day cycle.

The journey had been painfully awkward. Tango and Jimmy spent most of it talking between themselves, sometimes hushed, which Grian pretended not to notice. He’d closed off slightly despite Scar trying to start a conversation with him several times. It was a stark contrast to how they were in the morning. Scar missed their smallest interactions deeply.

At one point Tango had instructed Scar not to walk so close to Grian, mumbling that he could take his weapon back so easily with how close they were walking. Scar tried to argue, but Grian complied, closing himself off even more as he walked ahead of them.

They’re now settling in for sleep, taking turns in pairs, Tango not trusting Grian to be lookout alone.

Tango and Jimmy lay backed up into the shelter of an overhang, while Scar and Grian sit at the entrance, a considerable distance away.

“Wow- it got dark quicker. Darker than yesterday even,” Scar hums. The sky’s a deep, dark blue rather than the red of last night. Scar shivers, it’s also considerably colder.

“Yeah,” Grian murmurs.

“I bet this is really comforting for you, gloomy dim light,” Scar leans back looking towards where he assumes Grian is sitting, it’s pretty hard to tell.

“Yeah.”

Scar turns back and frowns to himself. It seems Grian is still acting distant, even with Tango and Jimmy snoring peacefully behind them.

“Hmm … wish I could see in the dark though, can't find-”

With far too much force Scar reaches forward, ramming his wrist into a rock wall. He winces. “Ow…”

“Are you okay?” Grian asks from his side, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah… just, there's a wall there.”

Scar continues to blindly stumble in the dark, searching for his jacket. Suddenly there’s a warm glow, illuminating his surroundings. Scar's mind is slow to process as small flickers of light drift into his peripheral vision, like some combination of fire embers and little lightning bugs.

He jumps backwards, his knee slipping out from under him. “Oh oh oh– what is that!?”

He looks around in shock at the small fiery creatures, before his eyes make contact with Grian who looks completely unconcerned about them. Scar then realises the glare is actually slightly amused at Scars' fright.

“Oh, are you doing that?”

“Yeah… lights to see what you're doing,” Grian mutters somewhat shyly, looking at the space between them. Scar sits back down, reaching for his jacket now that the dim glow has lit up the area.

“Oh! Thanks!” He puts the jacket on, grumbling about the discovery that it isn’t as comfortable inside out. But at least it still keeps the cold at bay so he isn’t about to complain too much.

He watches the tiny lights float in the air. They spin and twirl into themselves, dancing around one another. Scar slowly recognizes the shapes of tiny phantoms, just like the ones from yesterday but smaller and made out of sunlight.

“… Aren't these technically illusion magic?” Scar thinks, not even realising he’s saying it out loud.

He looks to Grian when he hears a shuddered breath, “…oh I guess so,” Grian wraps his arms around his knees, pressing his face into them with a soulful expression.

Unlike the tired apathy he has been carrying, this look is pained and hurt, the little illusions dimming as if in response.

Scar holds his hand out catching one between his fingers. It flutters and whirls in his palm, never quite touching his skin. Scar can swear he can feel its warmth, even though he knows he’s most likely imagining it.

“Well …I like them. They're very cute,” Scar smiles, looking at Grian as he holds one of the tiny beasts in between his hands.

Grian looks up at him, half his face obscured, and that sad look still in his eyes.

“You’re very talented,” Scar pokes at the illusion in his hand, feeling nothing as his finger phases through it. The illusion still dancing and spinning as if it was affected by the force.

“…Thanks,” Grian responds, muffled. A small smile creeps into his features at Scar's compliment.

They fall back into a still quiet state. Scar pushes the illusion back into the air with the others, leaning against the wall as he watches them dance.

“A game huh? I wonder why I'm here…” He muses. Not really expecting an answer from the glare, more filling the air.

“Tango said that we all must have wronged an Ender in our past… But I don't think I have- aside from being a Vindicator… I wonder…” He mulls over ideas in his mind, but there honestly isn't much he can think of. He's never been that involved in the field, and he barely even knows if he'd recognize an Ender if he saw one.

Naturally, Scar's gaze drifts to his company. Grian seems to be as deep in thought as him, his brows deep and ears pinned back, upset.

“Are you… okay?” Scar asks.

Grian looks up at him, his eyes following each line on Scar's face before responding. “Have you decided if I'm a good guy or bad guy yet?”

Scar tilts his head, that’s a very particular kind of question. He leans his head back, taking in the sandy walls striped with different warm shades of colour.

“I don't…” he sighs. “I think I'm starting to realise it's a lot more complex than I thought it all was.”

“Yeah,” Grian mumbles.

“What do you think you are?”

That oh-so-familiar quiet rears its head again. Scar starts to think he isn't going to answer him until, finally, he’s proven wrong.

“… I don't think I'm either, I don't think there really are good guys and bad guys, at least that it's not so black and white most of the time.”

Scar tilts his head down to look at Grian. The bird has now wrapped his tail around his feet, he's almost perfectly wound, aside from his wings that lay out behind him, tired. He's not looking at Scar, but instead at his own illusions that continue to float in the space between them.

Scar looks at them as well. “… I think you're good.”

Grian shifts uncomfortably, raising his head high enough that Scar can see the pained grin he wears.

“Haha god–” he pulls one arm out from being wrapped around his leg and pushes it hard into one side of his face. “You really need to pick better alliances, you really don't know me…”

Scar tilts his head from side to side.

“Well then tell me… do you think you're bad?” He asks simply.

Grian doesn't answer straight away. Instead, he digs his nails slightly into his scalp and looks to his side, very quietly hissing in a breath.

“… I’m trying to be a better person than I was,” he says, almost below a whisper.

“Well, that's something! Bad people don't tend to want to change,” Scar smiles reassuringly. Catching Grian’s eyes and putting on the most friendly expression he can muster.

Grian doesn't seem to buy it though, he pushes his head back into his knees. This time leaning his face away from Scar.

They both sit there, not uttering another word for a few minutes. Scar looks again at the illusions. He wonders what it was like to summon them, and then to keep concentrating on them. Grian doesn't even seem to be paying them much mind, his head buried in his metal limbs. Yet they still dance softly in the air. Maybe it was a soothing thing to conjure and maintain. Grian's feathers certainly imply he's a lot less stressed compared to how they’ve been most of the day.

Scar watches as Grian taps his long taloned fingers against his arm in boredom, the sound resonating in their small space. Metal against metal. Scar stares absently at them, Grian’s head is turned away, so he doesn't feel so bad about picking up on the smaller details he can see now he's this close.

They look slightly scratched, the deep black of the metal is scuffed in places, turning a dark grey. Up this close Scar notices how the robotics look, unfinished. Like they’re just a frame, the mechanisms, and wires open to the world, no protective shell. He can see some of the wires have tape around them, stuck haphazardly to the inside as if they had been snagged and pushed in deeper to avoid being torn again. It strikes Scar as odd. They look incomplete, yet when Grian taps his fingers they move with the fluidity of an organic limb, the small mechanisms barely even make a sound.

“Is it true what he said about enchanted robotics?” Scar asks spontaneously.

Grian lifts his head, that cold look returning once again. He pulls his arms from being wrapped around his legs into his lap, still curled up in his position.

“So, you do think I'm an Ender,” he says plainly.

“Well– I mean– You're not doing much to refute being one,” Scar tries, chuckling under his breath.

“I'm not an Ender,” Grian responds coldly, the least bit amused.

Moving uncomfortably, Scar breaths in, dropping his smile for a genuine look. “And I choose to believe you.”

Grian looks unconvinced. “But you still think I am,” he says slowly.

“… I don't think anything.” Scar argues, interrupted by a surprising chuckle.

“Well, I knew that much already.”

“I– hey!”

Grian giggles to himself, it lays bittersweet on his face when he falls off into silence.

Scar finishes what he’d been saying. “I don't like to assume things.”

With that Grian looks at Scar, really looks at him. The deep dark pools of his eyes squint and scrutinise him. Scar thinks the reflections of the illusions in his eyes look like stars.

“You liked to assume I'm a good person.”

“That's different, I have evidence,” Scar responds cheerfully.

“And what Tango stated wasn't?” He squeaks, baffled, unwinding from his ball more to throw his arms out.

“It didn't feel fair.”

“Fair–” Grian parrots back in disbelief, almost sneering to himself.

“Besides, I feel like it might be hypocritical of me to be upset that you're hiding who you are.”

Grian folds his arms back over himself looking away. “But that's different, I know what you're hiding– I was the one to even suggest it–” He says bitterly.

“Well– maybe I also have my own secrets,” Scar winks.

With a slightly more light in his voice, Grian leans his chin on his knees. “I doubt that– you like talking too much.”

Scar laughs at that, then sits forward holding a finger up as the little illusions swim around him. “You truly underestimate the power of talking, my friend. You can know anything and be given anything by talking, whereas violence enlists the opposite. It cuts you off from ever knowing more. People love talking, and I love secrets. It's an art, really.”

“Why did you become a Vindicator then? If anything they're very for violence and anti-information,” Grian mumbles, looking up at him with a raised brow.

Scar winks again, but this time taps his nose, “For secrets,” he says simply.

Grian rolls his eyes and laughs. “Ah,” He smiles, slipping slightly at the edges. He taps at his arm again. “You sort of concern me,” he huffs. “I don't get you.”

“Well I mean secrets—” Scar starts.

Grian cuts him off, waving a hand. “No no, that's not what I'm talking about…” He rests his hand back down onto his knee looking straight at Scar. “You have this inexplicable blind faith in me and I don't understand why,” his nose scrunches up. “Now, either you're really dumb or …”

Scar splutters trying to defend himself, but Grian continues, closing his eyes.

“I don't know…” He titters.

“I'm just very curious.”

“… about me?”

“Yeah! If you're not going to tell me who you are, then I guess I'll have to get to know you,” Scar grins.

“Usually when people are investigating someone, they don't straight up tell them to their face,” Grian bobs his head smirking.

“And I'm not investigating you,” Scar argues, “it's called companionship— becoming friends. You do have those don't you?” Scar tilts his head.

Grian grins up at him. “Well, you see—” Leaning forward, beckons Scar to follow his movement, before pulling back suddenly.

“That! Was obviously an investigation,” he laughs unfooled.

“Worth a try,” Scar shrugs, also leaning back.

They both become quiet. A cool breeze blows at the feathers on Grian's tail. The little light illusions move through the air slowly, unbothered by the physical realm. Grian holds his hands out, as they all drift over to him, curling up neatly in his hands.

He looks at Scar who’s watching, intrigued, and flashes his teeth in a smile, before closing his hands together, extinguishing the light. Only slight shimmers make it out past his fingers, as Scar watches him push his palms hard against each other still looking at him.

He opens his hands to reveal one creature, slightly bigger than the ones from earlier curled up in his hands. Its form is slightly more detailed, its warm light shimmering with blues and pink at the tips. It bares its tiny teeth as if yawning, and stretches out from its sleepy curl. Grian pushes it up into the air, the small creature imitating catching air in its wings and drifting off into the space in front of them.

“I uh—” Grian interrupts nervously, pulling Scars' gaze away from the illusion. “Thank you! For sticking up for me back there.” He holds a small smile, pained at the edges.

“I honestly wouldn't have held it against you if you took their offer and ran… but—” He coughs and shakes his head. “I guess what I'm saying is it was nice, very foolish… we literally have so many lies to navigate now, it’s a walking nightmare… but it was very kind of you.”

Scar beams, almost wiggling in excitement. “Hey! We're a package deal now!”

The bird rolls his eyes but keeps his smile. “Ugh.”

He pulls his legs out in front of him, his wings lifting off the dusty floor. He shakes them off from the dust before folding them behind his back neatly. He gives Scar a tired look.

Scar shuffles forward waving his hands out, not done with the conversation just yet.

“Seriously! I like you!” Grian flicks him a nervous look, making a confused noise that almost sounds like a chirp. Scar itches his head and elaborates. “I'm glad we've gotten to meet each other again. Under different circumstances.”

Grian's wide grin falters. His eyes drift to the left side of Scar's face, darting away and looking at the ground instead.

“And let’s hope we leave this one better then, aye?” His hesitant grimaces switch to a small but genuine smile.

“I owe at least that to you,” he adds.

Scar nods.

It never occurred to him that they’ll have to part ways at some point, for some reason that thought never crossed his mind, and it makes him sad. He’s a Vindicator and Grian was, probably still is, a criminal. It would be hard to meet up with someone actively imprisoned, and that’s even if Grian cares enough to risk that. Considering he said the words leave, he must have assumed they'll likely never meet again.

It makes Scar feel a little sour, he was having the most fun time here, even with the lingering death and tense energy directed at his new friend. He'd had more fun being kidnapped and disregarded on some random planet than he ever had on a shift.

Scar watches the illusion spin, he doesn't need to dwell on it too much, this adventure is starting to appear long and treacherous, he should just enjoy what he has left of it and Grian’s company.

Scar puts light into his voice, eyes still set on the glowing creature.

“Now shall we discuss at length about our sand trader backstory?”

Grian snorts.

He looks at him to watch Grian fake an obvious yawn. “Wow! I'm suddenly very tired.”

Scar smiles more genuinely this time.

“I’ll be called ‘Scorn’ and you'll be my faithful lackey ‘Giran’”

“They already know our names why-” Grian wheezes, before holding his palms up. ”You know what- nah, actually I'm asleep right now- and actively not engaging” He lays down closing his eyes.

“Best friends,” Scar continues. “Found abandoned as children together in a sandbox, oh that could be where the trading started!”

Grian rolls over away from Scar, pulling his wings pointedly over his head.

“I'M SLEEPING! Can't hear you over how loudly I'm sleeping right now-” he says slightly muffled, starting to laugh. Before he chuckles loudly to himself.

He suddenly sits up quickly and holds his hands tight over his mouth, Scar noticing the noise of someone grumbling tiredly.

He sees a shadow of Tango toss in his sleep before settling again.

Scar and Grian both exchange a look, Grian trying his hardest to hold onto a laugh before he coughs one into his hands, hushing him. Scar joins in wheezing.

They both sit, in a warm glow, laughing quietly between themselves as the night continues.

[curious-sootball]

You know... now I understand why a fucked up mother is such a popular archetype in queer stories.

[wandasdollie]

  ꒰  𑄽୧ ꒱ 𓈒  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀bisou, bisou!  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀ ⠀𝜗𝜚  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀  ⠀⠀18+! men and minors dni.

 .   ̣̣̣︶ ྀ pairing ˚ ۪ ݁ balletinstructor!wanda x ballerina!reader

꒰  tags ꒱ 𓈒  mommy!wanda ,  taboo - ish relationship , smut , fingering , r!receiving , wanda speaking french! ( lapine is bunny, and poupée is doll~!! )

 ꔫ  ࣪ ˖ a / n ⑅♡ ྀ˖ this is my first time writing for wanda , i do hope you enjoy!! based on my previous post!! i... have not proofread this... i am very sorry if it is a mess!!   ໒ ྀི>֯ . <ྀི֯ ̥ ︣ა

 ⁺ ⑅  ꫂ ၴႅၴ tag list ֯݁ต  @emiliaisdead ( pls comment if you'd like to be added~! )

“Bonne après-midi, ma lapine!”

You lift your nose from its position at your knee, lifting up and toward the position of the honey-coated voice. It comes as no surprise to you that your instructor stands at the door, her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her outfit consisting of several layers that she’s sure to ditch over the next few hours. She looks impossibly cozy, and though her nose is pink and her hair is a bit frizzy from a hat that she’s recently shed, she is the essence of winter comfort. She is shivering, as are you. You can think of nothing more than sitting in front of a fire with her, under a blanket with warm tea and cookies, spending your time only focused on your shared nearness. This time of year always floods your mind with these images, it can’t be helped. Alas, you stand in a room with only a few small space heaters to create warmth for your poor, frozen joints.

“Hello!” You smile in return. Ms. Maximoff has a penchant towards speaking in French in your presence, as if it is her little secret, one that she will never let you in on. You haven’t learned yet what her little teasing nicknames mean, but you have the context clues to know when she’s greeting you, which is just enough. You don’t really want to know what she’s calling you, it only adds to the tension of your already over-amorous relationship.

You have had an entirely debilitating crush on this woman for far too long, and it is not as though she is necessarily helping you shake it. She is incredibly affectionate towards you, and while it may seem to others in the room that you are nothing more than her favorite student— which you certainly are— Ms. Maximoff harbors those very same feelings for you. She just does not show it as easily as you do. Where you become a blushing, babbling mess, she is stoic, firm, though sometimes she cannot help the dimpled smile when she watches you dance. She has forced her own resolve around you so much that it is starting to crumble, her urges towards you harder to contain. She cannot conceal adoring looks nor wandering hands much longer.  

You slide into your next stretch, attempting a split, which you aren’t nearly warm enough for, and the exasperated sigh that leaves your lips turns a frown on Wanda’s gentle features. You’re not sure how she could have possibly heard it, but she definitely has, and makes her way to stand beside you, pulling gloves off of perfectly manicured hands.

“What’s wrong, poupée?” She speaks softly as she kneels to your side, a gentle hand caressing your thigh. She chews on her lower lip, and you each feel the ripple of nerves shoot through the tense muscle when she places her hand there. There’s simply no helping the buzz of butterflies in your tummy when you look up to meet her gaze in the mirror, the way she so intently watches you, how her thumb caresses you even though you’re wearing awfully thick sweatpants.

“I’m too cold,” you whine, voice a bit pathetic as you flop onto the floor, body naturally magnetized towards your instructor, subconsciously seeking her body’s warmth, her touch. You lower your gaze from the mirror and turn to face Wanda now, looking up to her as if by some magic she could instantly warm you, begging without words for her to wrap her arms around you and hold you close. You want nothing more than to slip your fingers under her large sweater and warm your freezing fingers, and that is just the same thing that Wanda seeks now. But she is in the position of a professional, of a teacher, that she must keep her head about her. That’s what she’s always had to remind herself, since the very first day you enrolled in her course.

 Needless to say, she’s found this very difficult.

Most difficult, that is, when you look up to her, eyes wide and pleading, fingers playing anxiously with the cotton of your own sweatshirt, legs spread so that Wanda sits perfectly between them. She juts out her lower lip a little, looking to you with the pity that you so deserve, and raises her own hand so that she may press the palm against your cheek. You lean into the touch so desperately, not minding that it is likely messing up your makeup— the makeup you always spend at least an hour perfecting before class, all so that she might compliment you like she is so apt to doing.

And it’s that very complimenting that Wanda is so desperate to do now, but she just must force herself not to. She will only look you over, soak in the image of the girl that so clearly longs to be loved, but will not allow herself anymore.

“Let me help,” she hums, voice impossibly smooth, dropped an octave from when she had first greeted you. Her thumb lightly washes over your skin before her hand drops, leaving a warm imprint on otherwise freezing flesh. Wanda backs up a little so that you may spread your legs even wider, a strained hundred-and-eighty-degree angle, though you press your palms into the floor, hovering a little as to ease some of the pain in your hips.

Wanda sidles herself behind you, enjoys all too much the way you chew on your lip, the way the veins in your neck ripple from the physical exertion. She won’t admit it to herself, but as much as she loves to see the smile on your bunny-pink lips, she adores to see you in the least bit of pain. A twinge sadistic, yes, but it’s a natural instinct that cannot be ignored. It is because she so yearns to be the one to ease your pain. She does not ever want to hurt you, will never hurt you, only wants to be the one to kiss you back to health when you’re sick, to put ice on swollen ankles.

She can’t help the craving hands that find themselves to your hips, their pressure firm, fingers threatening below the waistband of your sweatpants. You shiver when they do just that, finding their way onto the lowest part of your hip where your leotard meets tights, pressing you downwards ever so gently until you hit the floor. The stretch is entirely painful, though it’s a pain that’s all too close to being pleasurable. The extension of your muscles, paired with Wanda’s soothing touch, and her hot breath at the back of your neck, is all creating a swimming warmth within you far better than any heater could. The warmth has certainly concentrated right where your instructor’s hands lie now, the very inside of your thighs, the place that should hurt the absolute most, but with Wanda’s hands subtly massaging there, there isn’t a lot of pain at all.

“Good girl,” Wanda hums softly, releasing your thighs, sliding her hands up your side until they land against your back, lightly tracing the brocade velvet lacing of your backless leotard. She smiles to herself, counting the few freckles of your skin, knowing they won’t be gaining any new friends in the next cold months. “So pretty…” She whispers to herself, sure you can’t hear her for the way you count quietly to yourself. She adores it, the way your lips track numbers all throughout class, a very random quirk that you’ve never been aware of, yet it is one of Wanda’s favorite things about you.

You finally quit, swinging your legs forward, nearly falling back into Wanda in the process. In fact, your lack of balance has prompted her hand back to your hip, holding you firmly as you sit up, posture never faltering for the good ballerina that you are. Just as you are about to turn to thank Ms. Maximoff, whose leg has outstretched to mirror your own, to elongate your touch as much as she can, you hear a few chattering voices come down the hall. Wanda sighs softly, always a little too angry when other students dare interrupt your more intimate moments, but stands anyway. This is not before she gives your hip a small squeeze, and when she stands, she gently leaves her hand on top of your hair, gazes at you through the mirror. She could easily stare at you like this for the rest of time, and you her, but you both must move on, must find places at the barre, must move on with your lives. When the few students finally make their way into the classroom, Wanda winks at you before abandoning you in the middle of the floor, leaving so that she can fix her hair and check over her notes for today’s class.

The class is similar to every other that you’ve ever had, though not at all tedious. You do your warm-up as usual, practice for an upcoming recital, try some new things that Wanda has planned. She, as usual, uses you as an example, the teacher’s good little pet who always knows just what she’s talking about, can always maneuver through a combination with ease with only verbal instructions. You constantly worry this will make your fellow peers dislike you, but it is not their approval which you seek. And the way that Wanda always smiles and claps her hands when you’ve finished is more than enough. You have become a girl only living for Ms. Maximoff’s praise, always seeking it, always doing all you can to get it.

Today, you stand at the very far end of the barre, your back to wall instead of any other students, and Wanda certainly takes advantage of this. She lingers near you for far too long, gently pinching the flesh at your hip to make you giggle far too loudly, taking your sweatpants from you when you grow too warm, whispering dirty little phrases to you which make you blush deeper than a tomato. At least, you think they’re dirty. She speaks French, so you’re not entirely sure what it is she teases you with, but of course you blush and hide your face anyway. And, while they are often quite naughty, Wanda often finds herself whispering utter nonsense, be it a lyric to a song stuck in her head or the name of a French pastry she’s craving, just to see the way your knees lose balance. She has never once in her life been a tease, but for some reason, she just cannot help it. She loves to watch you squirm.

The class is over far too quickly for your liking. It always is. Though you spend nearly half of your week’s hours in this studio with Ms. Maximoff, it never ever feels like enough time. You always return home to an empty apartment, prepare yourself a meal that you’re sure Wanda would prepare far better, and do nothing but sulk until you can return to her side. You pull on your sweatpants and thickest wool socks, intentionally taking a very long time so that the other students will leave you and Wanda alone, so that you may have even a minute longer to spend together, to talk about whatever it is she wants to talk about.

“Is that all you have to wear?” Calls that sweet voice, head tilting to the side, sheer worry present on her features. “No wonder you’ve been so cold! You poor thing…” Wanda comes to your side, eyebrows knitted as she tugs lightly on your sweatshirt, looking around the floor, but no winter coat to be seen.

“Oh, I’ll be alright… The bus ride home is short!” You smile sweetly, eyes scrunching a little to convey how happy you are that she’s worrying over you. She evidently cares so much for you, and the fact that she does makes your heart swell oh so much. It’s not often that someone looks after your needs, until Wanda began doing all of the worrying for you.

Wanda is clearly displeased, her hands drifting from only grabbing the fabric of your sweatshirt to holding the body that it conceals, squeezing gently at your hips as she is so regularly prone to. She adores the way you feel in her grasp, so malleable yet firm with muscle, her own little doll. That is, after all, what she so frequently calls you without your knowing.

“This won’t do…” She mumbles softly to herself, shaking her head a little, her discomfort over your own cold growing so great that she cannot focus. She does, eventually, shake it, once you’ve ensued her several times that you have a pair of gloves in your bag that you fully intend on wearing.

“I worry for you, my darling.” Wanda sighs gently, lifting one hand to push a hair out of your face that’s finally fallen from sweat penetrating hair gel. Her hand lingers for perhaps too long, the pads of her fingers stuck to your skin as though by glue. It could be minutes, hours, that you stand like this, the only sound a clock ticking in the distance, the entire building emptied for the evening. Though your mind is empty, barely able to focus, eyes only barely glancing at Wanda’s so perfectly sculpted features with all the amorousness in the world, she is busy considering. She is thinking of all the ways that doing what it is she wants to do will hurt you, will get you both in trouble, will ruin what is already such a wonderful thing you share.

Eventually, her heart wins the battle, and she gently tugs against your cheek, reaching so that your lips connect. Though the heaters in the room have turned off, she is so impossibly warm. Her lips, the matte pink becoming messy from the fervor of her kisses, are hot against your own, which have already begun their winter chapping, but Wanda does not notice. Even if she did, she would not care. She kisses you with so much passion you would believe it has been building up for years.

You lift your hands as well, and they settle on her hips, tugging gently at her leggings, which are so tight and accentuate her curves so well that you find yourself at her for far too long. Her body is such a source of distraction for you, that you often seem spaced-out in the middle of class when, in reality, you are simply entranced by the subtle swing of your instructor’s hips as she walks. You grip her waist now, though your fingers have grown cold again so much so that they barely find the grasp that they so desperately want. You have spent far too long wanting this very touch, wanting to feel the weight of Wanda’s chest against you so desperately, the warmth of her tongue forcing apart your lips. You have spent so long wanting this, that its final arrival has overwhelmed you all too much.

Wanda pushes you backwards until your back hits the wall, a bit uncomfortable for the way that the barre forces a curve in your spine, but Wanda’s hands coax you into comfort. Her hands stray beneath your sweater, looking for any flesh beneath the skin-tight leotard and tights that you wear, incredibly frustrated at the lack of touch. She wants nothing more than to strip you of your clothes, to replace them with her hands, but is not quite sure that you are entirely alone, so instead snakes her hand under material the best she can, kneading the flesh that she is able to, pressing her warmth there.

You are practically helpless under her dominating hold, her weight over you, combined with her desperate kisses, nearly suffocating, but you do not mind one bit. You are hers to grope as she pleases, high from her vanilla perfume, your own hands seeking her own skin beneath her layers of athletic clothing.

You whine gently when she pulls her mouth from your own, her lips shining from your lip gloss, though you cannot admire them for long before she attaches them to your neck, gently licking you there while your head throws back, gently hits the wall beside you. Wanda has positioned herself so that her hips align perfectly with yours, though she stands between your legs, one of which has lifted to wrap around her, pulling her ever closer. Your hips have begun to buck as if on instinct, which only makes Wanda laugh softly, has her hands grabbing at you, assisting in your desperate rocking for pleasure.

“Does that feel good, princess?” She whispers roughly against your ear, though her voice still carries her signature sweetness, only a bit lower, darker.

You nod quickly, words not forming in your throat, hands flying up to tangle in her hair, and though you’re barely thinking clearly, you force the hair tie out, allow her strawberry curls to fall over her shoulders, so that you may cling onto her hair. Wanda adores the small whimpers that fly from you, but she forces her hand up to cover your mouth, to muffle your perverted little moans that echo in the room.

“The door is still open, lapine,” she whispers again, her breath bated and shallow. “Don’t want anyone to catch us.” Wanda lifts her head, looks into your eyes until you nod your understanding, and she drops her hand. “Good girl.”

When her hand drops from your mouth, it drops back to the waistband of your sweatpants, which she slides beneath, finds the spot in your panties that has grown so wet that it has soaked through your leotard. This makes her grin against the skin of your collarbone which she has begun attacking with her kisses, her teeth grazing against what is sure to become a dark bruise come morning. She presses gently against your clothed cunt, fingers slipping beneath the leotard yet still barriered by tights and panties. She is angered by this, yes, but the way you begin to moan from even her smallest presses to your clit makes Wanda dizzy from need. After a moment of finicking she is able to rip a small hole in your tights, the material so thin that it does not take much effort. She makes a mental note to buy you another pair.

Wanda finally pushes away your underwear, once again smiling into your skin when she finds that it is so very lacy, not at all what she would expect for a two-hour long ballet class. She does not know that she is the very reason you’ve chosen this pair, that for some sick reason you always dress from head to toe the way you’d want her to see you, including underwear and lacy bra, no matter how unlikely it is for her to see it.

The feeling of your warmth elicits such a deep moan from Wanda that it forces one of your own, which you end abruptly for the way that your breath hitches when she slides one finger inside of you. She whispers something once again, again speaking in the language that makes your knees incredibly weak, but that does not matter for the way that Wanda holds you so tight. Her finger pumps into you so gently, as though you are made of porcelain and might break if she does any more. And though her kisses are so fervent and her grip on you is so strong, she holds you delicately, like you are just a sweet little thing for her to take care of, not only the subject of her lust.

“Can you take another?” She muses, voice salaciously kind, so protective and dominating as she presses a few gentle kisses to your jawline. You can only nod in answer to her question, your hands falling once again to grab at her ass, to pull your bodies closer both by your hand and the leg that has hooked around her waist.

Wanda does as she’s promised, though her pace is still slow, still coaxing the small, high-pitched moans from your lips as she desires. Your muscles are incredibly tense, and though you’ve spent the past hours warming and moving them, you feel so shell-shocked with pleasure that your body is hardly able to move, other than the instinctual rocking of your hips.

“Look in the mirror, princess.” Wanda whispers into your own lips before placing a kiss to them. “I want you to see how good Mommy is making you feel.”

The nickname that she’s claimed for herself has sent another shock of pleasure through you, the butterflies in your stomach only heightening in their flapping. You flutter your eyes open as instructed, always the most obedient for Ms. Maximoff, and though your eyes are blurry, you find yourselves in the mirror.

The image, Wanda enveloping you, her focus so intense on fucking you, her hair messy down her back, the sleeve of her sweater all bunched up around her elbow, makes you tense up. You’ve never felt anything quite like it, and as Wanda’s thumb gently caresses your clit, you feel all of your muscles tense, your squeezing of her ass sure to leave some sort of bruise of its own. Wanda gently kisses you a few more times, her lips grown swollen from the dedication of her kisses. Her fingers continue to glide into you, as she allows you to ride her until your body grows overtired from it and falls limp against the wall.

“Good girl,” Wanda repeats, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek before she backs up only a little, looks over you, sees how flushed your skin has become, how heavy your eyelids are. She adores the little mess of a girl she’s made of you, and as she removes her hand from your pants, licks it clean, she cannot help but feel proud of herself.

By the time you open your eyes, Wanda has returned to her typical worrying self, though she looks so impossibly relaxed. Her skin is pink from your shared warmth, her lipstick so very messy, it makes you giggle a little.

“Please, let me drive you home?” She practically begs, but you take no convincing. You assess your appearance for only a moment before racing to her side, looping your arm around hers and grabbing your bag. You shyly press a kiss to her cheek as you step out into the winter, the air bitingly cold, yet you don’t feel it, for your entire body is still radiating from Wanda’s heat.