#mop and bucket situation

[dailyrhysnicholson]

[crypticarchivist]

IMO the best part of coteries narratively is you can get this group of what are essentially supervillains who all have the equivalent of an anti-conscience whispering in the back or their head constantly screaming at them to eat the others, and like these are all awful people or will be awful people soon but

“You don’t lie to your lawyer, you don’t lie to your coterie”. those words stick with me from the first couple episodes of LA by Night because that’s just SUCH a good line and it sums up the dynamic of player groups in the World of Darkness so well.

Life sucks and you’re too miserable to worry about other peoples issues and your lives are all equally fucked in different ways that aren’t exactly neatly comparable, and you might implode as a group and backstab each other, but there’s an equal chance it works out, you help each other if not out of care than for enlightened self interest and this basic reciprocity gives you a chance to learn how to people in a way that doesn’t involve burying your character’s problems under a mask. Coteries give Vampires a rare chance to be genuine even if the members hate each other’s guts and that’s such a valuable character dynamic to explore.

The magic of coteries in VTM is that whenever you look at a player group in any chronicle no matter how unique their vampires are, they’re all absolutely miserable in different ways lmaoooooo

[miaoua3]

Stay The Morning?

Pairing: CEO! scoups x f!reader

Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), one night stand, meet cute, rich ceo x normal girl, morning after, the whole encounter described through flashbacks, mentions of previous cheating

Description: after your previous boyfriend cheated on you, your friends allowed you three weeks of mopping and self loathing before they drag you out of the house and into a bar. little did you know that a certain gentleman will be there and that he will change your world for a night

Note: i went out with my friends, we jokingly went to our local perfume shop, i found cheols perfume (hermes h24), it made me ovulate….bon appetit.

Warning: barely proofread, read at your own risk lmao

Part two: Stay The Night?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

to say that walking in on your boyfriend and his coworker shagging in your own bed after you’ve decided to come home earlier to surprise him with a warm and delicious cooked meal messed you up a bit was an understatement.

his apologies fell on deaf ears, partly because you didn’t want to hear it and partly because a sudden ringing appeared to be echoing in the shell of your ear.

overcome with rage, you packed all of his stuff in some plastic bags from previous shopping trips, all while he tried to talk to you and explain that ‘it isn’t what it looks like’.

what a bucket full of bullshit.

deciding that 5 bags worth of stuff should last him a few days, you threw them in front of your door before pushing your now ex in the hallway too.

in his boxers only.

but then, your bravery seemed to have disappeared. while your ex was trying to make excuses explain to you the situation, you haven’t let yourself feel a single emotion other than rage and betrayal.

the moment you slammed the door in your ex’s face though, you felt all the emotions suddenly hit you and you crumbled, letting the tears fall down your face.

in these situations, you always find yourself doing the same thing.

and that is call your two best friends.

in the matter of minutes they were in front of your door, with all the necessities like ice cream and tissues.

and they comforted you. for the whole nights.

and the rest of the week.

and the week following that one.

and then third week week too.

well, at least, until friday evening.

at 6pm sharp, your friend, sana, unlocked the door and kicked them with her foot, your other friend jihyo not far behind her.

only to find you on your couch, watching tv with dead eyes, a bucket of ice cream on your lap (now mostly in a watery consistency).

at the sudden outburst, you looked at the direction of your front door with shocked eyes.

sana, having had enough of your bullshit, marched up to you and pulled you up by your arm, “okay that’s it, go take a shower, we’re going out, i have had it with your bullshit. god, you stink, when was the last time you at least put on deodorant, bro? disgusting.”

you, still being in shock, had little space to let out a complaint at her rambling, until she basically pushed you in the bathroom, making you trip over your own feet, before she closed the bathroom door in your face.

after a second, she yelled “oh and shave your legs and everything else, we are getting you laid tonight!”

by the tone of her voice, you knew that you had no choice but to do as she told you. knowing her, she would make the heavens move just to have her way.

an hour later, you were dressed in a little tight cherry red dress, your makeup done by your two friends, hair perfectly done, a black leather jacket resting on your shoulders, your arms intertwined with the arms of your friends, pulling you out of your apartment and down the stairs.

something in your stomach was telling you that that night wouldn’t go as your friend had imagined it. realising this, you raised your concerns.

“guys, while i really do appreciate this, and im sure we will have so much fun, i don’t think i will be sleeping with anyone tonight. it just feels too soon and im not sure if it would be a good idea for me to do that.”

sana scoffs and replies “girl please, your heart is in your vagina, and currently it is broken thanks to the dumbass that you decided to date even when I specifically told you not to, it just needs to be a big dick that will sprinkle some of its fairy dust on it and it will be as good as new-“, she tried to continue, but jihyo decided to interrupt her by letting go of your arm and using the same hand to reach behind your back and smack sana across the back of her head, full force, making her head fly down.

“stop spewing nonsense, even if we wanted to we can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. plus, if she thinks it wouldn’t be a good idea then it probably isn’t, just because it would work for you doesn’t mean it would work for her.”, jihyo defends you as she intertwines your arms again and rubs the back of your hand with her other hand.

sana just mumbles “we will see about that” in response.

after a few minutes, you reach the bar that you visit semi-regularly aka whenever the stars align and all three of you happen to have a free day on the same day.

sitting at your usual place at the bar, sana orders for all of you before you can even try to protest about how you weren’t in a mood for heavy drinks.

as jihyo and sana are talking between themselves, you look around the bar, just to people watch for a bit, see everyone that is mingling in this bar.

and then you see him.

at the other end of the bar, there sat a man so beautiful it made all of those butterflies you felt on the way to the bar roar together into a chaos.

oh.

he’s so beautiful is the only thought that could cross your mind as you observed him. short black hair neatly styled in a way that it compliments all of his features, dark and thick eyebrows pulling your attention, big and plump lips set in a gentle smile. letting your eyes travel, they end up on his arms, observing how tight the black button up looks on him due to his buff physique. your wandering eyes come to his hands that are resting on the top of the counter, one crossed while the other is playing with the glass filled with dark liquor.

seeming that you have zero self control left, you let your eyes wander back up to his face, to admire the face that you could only describe as if it were sculpted by the gods themselves.

only to find his dark eyes already watching you.

quicker than a thunder, you turn your head towards your two friends again, feeling how hot your face feels due to being caught by the perfect stranger.

you try to go back to the conversation that your friends are having, as a distraction from the most perfect man that you have ever seen in your entire life.

what you fail to notice is that the stranger’s eyes stay on you, caressing your figure with his hot gaze, stopping every few seconds on one of your features, as a way to take not of every little detail and memorise it.

after half an hour, you finish your first drink (that tasted only mildly disgusting due to amount of alcohol it had in it). but it seems that with every sip you took, your self control would lessen and your eyes would stray in the direction of mr.perfect (as you started calling him in your head).

only to snap your head right back because he would already be looking at you, gentle smile playing on the edge of his lips.

the entire time you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, excitement and nervousness. to be completely honest, you forgot how it felt to be excited to have got somebody’s whole attention on you, and to have your own attention solely focused on them.

all the butterflies you felt as you were walking to the bar seem to only duplicate with every little exchange of glances between you and mr.perfect.

just as you raised your hand to get the bartender’s attention, a deep “um, excuse me?” came from your right, making you pause your action to turn your head.

and your breath catches in your throat.

because one and only mr.perfect was standing right there, towering over you due to you sitting and him being so very tall, clad in all black, the sleeves of his black button up rolled up to his elbows, the first few buttons undone, giving you a peak to his strong and defined collarbones, a gentle smile teasing the edges of his mouth.

and his gaze.

oh his gaze was burning you from the intensity of it, making goosebumps arise on your skin.

seeing that he got your attention, he continues with a boyish smile “i was just wondering if i could buy you your next drink? it’s just that- i saw you across the room and i thought that you were absolutely beautiful, and my mom taught me that beautiful women should never pay for their own drinks a-and im rambling aren’t i?”, he finishes with a low chuckle, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

looking at him, it would seem that a cat got ahold of your tongue because you proceed to just stare at him, both of you waiting for you to say anything.

luckily, jihyo comes to your rescue, behind your shoulder smiles at the stranger and says “she would love to!”

breaking out of the trance, you look at her shortly to see her nodding her head encouragingly, before looking at the stranger again with a blushing face “um, yes, i’d really like that”.

he smiles at you, before calling the bartender over. you tell him your order before he directly gets to work.

as your drink is being made, the stranger smiles at you and puts out his hand for a handshake (his beautifully big, veiny and manly hand, adorned by a ring on his middle finger and an expensive watch on his writs) “my name is choi seungcheol, may i ask for yours?”

blushingly, you put your hand in his and introduce yourself. making some small talk, you learn that he is currently 29 years old, and that he’s here with some friends for a friend’s birthday.

just as you were about to ask him what he does for a living, your drink gets put in front of you, breaking the flow of the conversation.

seungcheol, seeing that the only reason why approached you is done, gets up from his sit next to you, “well, your drink is here, i’ll leave you ladies alone now, thank you for allowing me to pay for your drink, enjoy the rest of your night”. he smiles gently before he starts to go back to his friends.

you weren’t lying that alcohol messed with your self control, because in the time it took him to make three steps, you were up and out of your seat, way too loudly than necessary saying “um-!”.

hearing you behind him, he turns around and to see your flustered face, questionably looking at you.

seeing that the cat is already out of the bag and that you already embarrassed yourself as it is, you continue “y-you know, you could buy me the next drink too? o-or, well, you could just- you could offer me a longer conversation instead? um, actually, i-i’d prefer that to a drink.”, you finish with almost to none dignity left, your entire face burning from embarrassment.

seungcheol, in return just smiles.

and the butterflies go wild again.

oh, no.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

waking up, you notice that your room is suspiciously bright. like, way too bright for it to be your room.

the thought makes you jump and sit up automatically, only to notice the lack of the clothes on your body, making you pull the duvet over your chest.

looking around the room, you realise that you were in somebody else’s bed.

and looking to your right, you get the answer as to whose room it is.

seungcheol is sound asleep next to you, shirtless, laying on his stomach with his face turned towards you, his lips set in a cute little pout, his back muscles moving and flexing with every exhale that escapes his mouth.

and his back. oh. my. god.

there were nail scratches all over his back, making it look as if a wild cat had attacked him. but it wasn’t a cat that attacked him, was it now? no it was your doing.

looking around the room, you realise just how much more spacious it looks in the daylight. actually, everything about his condo is big and spacious (as well as everything about him-).

noting every little detail around the room and thinking about how much everything must’ve cost. but it probably didn’t make that much of a difference to him. no.

because choi seungcheol wasn’t just anybody.

he was a ceo of…some company whose name you can’t remember because you were…occupied with something else when he was explaining it to you (read: occupied by watching the veins in his forearms move with every move of his arms that he made).

the fact that he hid that from you up until the moment you walked into his condo makes you mentally scoff at your cluelessness, because who else would wear a watch that size if not a ceo of a company?

you were willing to ignore the big watch. you were even willing to ignore the ridiculously expensive-looking audi that he drove you in to his place. even the underground garage that he drove into.

but walking directly out of the lift and into the biggest condo you have ever since with the whole wall being just one giant window? oh, no way in hell were you going to let it slide.

turning around to look at him questionably, you feel his hand that’s on your back rub slow circles, and his smile turn into a sheepish one.

“so, just a businessman huh?”, you question his previous answer with a raised brow.

in return he chuckles, “well, i am a businessman technically, i just never mentioned that i was a ceo of a company”, he answers before he toes off his dress shoes and walks in what you were sure to be a kitchen.

you follow him, slowly observing the ginormous living room that you find yourself into, before stopping in front of the big window. his condo had to be the best in the whole of seoul, because the view that you are looking at right now is enough to leave you breathless. thousands of lights from all across the seoul make it look like the night sky.

after a minute you ask him “why didn’t you tell me what you really do? there wasn’t really a reason to hide something like that so i assume that you had a bigger reason for not telling me.”, you turn your head back to be able to see him clearly.

he stops pouring you two drinks for a moment, looks upwards with furrowed eyebrows for a moment, before looking at you with and with upmost sincerity answers “you just didn’t seem like the type of person who would care about things like that.”, he turns his head back to the glasses in front of him before he continues “plus, i was sitting in front of the most beautiful woman i have ever seen, i much rather talk about you and get to know you than talk about my boring work.”, he chuckles as he finishes his thought.

his answer was so simple, yet it got your breath catching in your throat.

you can’t remember the last time somebody really cared about you and who wanted to get to know you, to learn about all the little things about you.

your gaze finally falls on seungcheol’s back again, and on your artwork.

you feel the heat on your cheeks worsen, the longer you look at the marks on his big and muscular back. the heat to your face isn’t the only thing that looking at his back brings to you, but the memories of last night as well.

although your eyes are focused on the view in front of you, you can feel that seungcheol was walking slowly towards you, until he was standing directly behind you. slowly, you see his hand appear in front of your face, holding a glass of water. carefully, you take it from his hand, saying a quiet “thank you” before taking a little sip of the water.

you gently put the glass on the little table holding a vase to your left, before looking in front of you again.

ever so slowly, you feel him inch closer to you, until your back is brushing his firm chest. his smell has your mind clouded-he smells so good, not too strong like most men do, but just enough to have you taking a deeper whiff of it. such a pleasant smell, it had your eyelids closing in satisfaction on their own.

ever so lightly he places his hand in your hip, his hold on it getting firmer with each slow second. at this simple touch you find yourself gasping lowly, goosebumps raising on the skin of your arms.

you can tell by the precision of his moves and how he takes his time with each action of his what kind of lover he is. the type to make you feel safe and relaxed. the type that would put your pleasure in the first place. the gentle but firm type.

the type to be the best you have ever had.

another step, and his entire front is touching your entire back. there isn’t an inch of you that isn’t touching him. you can feel his breath on the back of your head, and your own coming to a still stand in your throat.

slowly, he moves his head until it’s right there, to your right. he lets his head dip a little lower, so his nose is grazing the skin of your shoulder and ever so lightly, takes a deep breath of your smell.

he inhales deeply, at the end of it a little groan rumbling in his chest. he then lets his instincts take over-slowly, he moves his head so his nose travels across your shoulder, up your neck (where for a few milliseconds you feel his lips brush across your skin too, making you gasp quietly), across your jawline, until his lips are right by your ear.

in what must be the deepest voice you have ever heard from a man, he whispers, “tell me to stop…”, he pauses, letting go of his self control for a moment and letting his lips leave a little kiss on the edge of your jawline, before he continues “…and i will stop”.

gone were all the thoughts from your head, which is probably why you find your head falling back on his shoulder, eyes closing on their own, feeling the lack of the air in your lungs getting to your head, and breathlessly, you say “don’t stop, please”.

which seemed to be enough for him, because in the next second he’s directing your face to his own with two fingers and kissing you like he’s dying, and you are the only antidote that could save him.

his tongue massages your own in such a meticulous manner, that it made a little moan escape you. quickly, you break the kiss for the second it takes you to turn around in his hold, not even realising that he now had both of his arms wrapped around your stomach, and kissing him with what must look like desperation to anybody else.

he sucks on your top lip for a bit, before he deepens your kiss, his hand flying up to hold your jaw in place, slowly turning your head a bit to the side so he can get even deeper.

you seem to be out of your mind, because your hand-all on its own- grabs ahold of his other hand that is resting on your back, and places it on the back of your head.

seeing what you probably must’ve wanted, seungcheol takes a second to push his hand into your hair. and then he pulls on it ever so lightly.

and then you moan loudly in his mouth.

and that seems to do it for him, because he groans deeply at your moan, before he breaks a kiss harshly to grab ahold of your thighs and pick you up as if you weighed nothing.

the action got you gasping, your legs automatically wrapping themselves around his hips. but before you had the time to tell him to put you down and that “you were too heavy”, he’s right back, kissing you like he was starving for it-starving for you.

with ease, he turns around and starts walking down the hall. but since he’s only a man, he gets a bit carried away, having to stop and push you against the wall, his kisses now fast and almost animalistic, travelling from your mouth, across your cheek and down your throat. at one harsher kiss to your skin on the neck, you let out a louder moan, which only fuelled his desire, his kisses getting faster, harsher, his tongue touching your skin with his open mouth kisses, the hold he had on your thighs getting tighter.

you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this wet, this satisfied, this hungry for more from a kiss alone. out of the window went all of your consciousness, your thoughts, the only thing that you knew at that moment were seungcheol and that you wanted him. more than you have ever wanted anything else.

gasping while he continues to attack your neck and collarbones, you moan a simple “more”.

and who was seungcheol to deprive his lady of what she wanted?

taking ahold of his actions, he gets a better grasp on your thighs, before he pushes you two away from the wall. in five big steps, he’s in front of his bedroom door, pushing them opened harshly with his foot, carrying you inside, before letting go of one of your legs to slam the door shut, all while still kissing you.

the thoughts that were playing in your mind like a movie got you slapping your face with both hands, covering your whole face with them.

not being able to sit still anymore, you gut up and out of the bed, quickly picking up a random shirt from the chair that was by the door, and out of the room.

you find yourself a bit lost, before you see the door to your left, on which stoop a sign that said “bathroom”. quickly, you run into the room and close the door behind yourself.

breathing out a sigh of relief, you look around to see just how ridiculously expensive the bathroom must look like.

and without any disappointment, the bathroom looks like it came straight out of somebody’s pinterest board- a big white bathtub to the left, to the right what must be the biggest shower you have ever seen, a toilet to the left in front of you, and a mirror so big there wouldn’t be a wall big enough to hang it in your own apartment. the tiles of the whole bathroom were this nice shade of beige, creating a harmony with the white furniture of the room.

noticing how badly you need to relieve yourself, you do yourself before getting up to wash your hands. as you finish, you look up to see just how bad your makeup must look.

and you gasp. because your whole neck is covered in hickeys, bigger part of them looking like they are connecting, making it look like one giant purple hickey that’s wrapped around your whole neck.

you just stand there for a second, in a loss for words as to how bad it looks. if you saw this sight on anybody else, you would think that they got mauled by a bear or some wild animal of sorts.

looking at the hickeys on your body got you blushing, and even more so as you remember how they came to be.

ever so gently, seungcheol puts you down on his big and fluffy bed. putting you down seemed to be the only thing he was going to do gently, because the very next second he’s basically pouncing on you, the kiss continuing after a brief moment it took him to lay you down. you feel his tongue battle with your own, before he pulls on your bottom lip with his own lips, lightly biting it to tease you just a little bit.

his hands go from resting next to your head to caressing your body, until they reach the hem of your dress. he breaks the kiss apart, starting to ask “can i-“.

but before he can finish the sentence, you are whining in his face, glossy eyes looking up at him “take it off, please, take it off take it off, please please please-“.

your begging seems to make him lose his mind just a bit more. quickly and with no care, as if he’s just as desperate to have this tight dress off of your body, he switches his hold to the straps of your dresss, harshly pulling it down your arms and chest, over your waist and over your hips, before giving it one final pull over your legs and tossing it over his shoulder.

for a moment, he sits on his heels and just observes you. he feels his chest tightening due to lack of oxygen, his heart beating so fast he thinks it could stop any moment.

your curves would get him kneeling in front of you if he wasn’t already doing so. and the little two piece lingerie- god, help him, for he is about to sin, big time.

he wanted to look at this sight for a bit longer, to have it embedded in his mind forever, but it seems that his girl is a bit impatient, because he feels your hand harshly pulling on his shirt and feels himself falling down on you before the sound of your whining even has the time to hit the shell of his ear.

you kiss him desperately, your hands everywhere- in his hair, on the nape of his neck, across his shoulders and scratching on his back.

all while whining and moaning in his mouth.

god help cheol if he wasn’t about to cum just from the pretty sounds you were making for him.

seeing as you weren’t willing to let him go, or stop kissing him for that matter, seungcheol opts to multitask and take his shirt off while still kissing you. the moment its off, your hands seem to have a mind of their own, travelling all over his back and shoulders before straying to his front, your firm touch traveling from his stomach to his chest.

deciding that he can’t wait anymore, he pulls on your underwear harshly, making them fly over his shoulder too, before he lets his lips leave open-mouth kisses over your neck, collarbones, chest, stopping for a bit to give you nipples a little nibble over your lacy bra, over your tummy, on your hip.

before he knows it, he finds himself laying between your legs, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes, his gaze hot enough to burn your skin.

he gently takes your thighs in his hands, before putting them on his shoulders. before he can even utter the words, you nod your head vigorously and enthusiastically, feeling your legs shake slightly at anticipation.

and then his mouth is on you. and you gasp.

he licks one long stripe from your hole to your clit, which he proceeds to suck onto lightly, making your hips buckle. his tongue then starts to lap at it, leaving little kitten licks on your clit.

your hand instinctively fly to his beautiful luscious hair, pulling on it, trying to getting him even closer if possible.

understanding what you want, seungcheol then lowers his mouth a bit, probing and pushing at your hole, twisting his tongue when entering you in ways you couldn’t think were humanly possible, sucking on your entrance every time before his tongue enters you again.

it’s embarrassing to admit, but you can confidently say that you have never been this close to the finish this fast.

which is why you try to pull him away by your hold on his hair. but he ignores your tugging, instead lets one of his hands that’s been holding your thigh travel up and take hold of one of your hands, before intertwining your hands and letting them rest on your hip.

such a simple action but it got your heart feeling so warm, you can for sure say that nobody ever made you feel this way by a simple action such as this one.

feeling your finish approaching quickly, you try to warn him, but he just looks at you with what looked like to be completely black eyes sternly, almost as if he was saying “don’t you dare stop me”.

and who were you to do as much?

suddenly, like a big wave, you feel the euphoria hit you, you back leaving the mattress, the hold you had on his hand and his hair tightening to the point you were sure must’ve hurt him, your thighs locking, squishing his face between them, all while moaning so loudly you were sure his neighbours were about to hate you.

seungcheol just continues to lap at your hole, drinking up every little drop of your cum as if it were nectar, closing his eyes in enjoyment, groaning as he makes sure to drink up everything you were giving him.

after a minute, you start feeling a bit overstimulated, whining in protest, which was seungcheol’s cue to stop. slowly detangling himself from your legs, he slowly climbs back up before he’s kissing you, your own taste greeting you on his tongue.

seungcheol breaks the kiss apart for a moment, his eyes as dark as night as he looks you directly in the eyes, before he asks you.

“are you ready to give me more, pretty girl?”

you again cover your blushing face with your hands, peeking just a bit between your fingers to look at yourself in the mirror.

seungcheol is so perfect, in every way possible, that you weren’t sure that he was real. maybe he was just a speck of your imagination, something you made up in your mind to make yourself feel better about your love life.

your hands slowly slide down your face as the reality of the situation starts to hit you, a sour look overtaking your expression.

seungcheol was so perfect. too perfect for you to have him.

knowing that talking to him again will just add salt to the injury, that it will make you realise just how out of your league he is, you decide that sneaking off would be for the best, for the both of you. after all, this was probably just a one time thing for him.

you bend down to pick up the shirt that you took from his room to put on until you find your dress, when suddenly, you feel a sharp cramp in your thighs, making you gasp.

you knew that you two went quite hard at it last night, but you didn’t think it would make walking hard for you the next day.

shyly, you peek at your thighs to see just how irritated the skin must look like, the recollection of the encounter yet again clouding your mind.

as you kiss, you feel one of his hands reach to the side before you hear him fumble with something, breaking the kiss so you both look at him struggling to find the condom in his nightstand.

after a few seconds he finally pulls out a pack, taking one out of the bunch before he pulls back entirely, sitting on his heels.

carefully he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear just enough for his cock go be freed. and oh god, if that wasn’t the biggest one you have ever had, he was so big and thick, it made goosebumps appear on your skin in anticipation. he rips the packaging with his teeth, and rolls it on himself, all while he still keeps the eye contact going.

seungcheol then lowers himself back onto you, before he teases your folds with his fingers.

in a raspy voice he says “your pussy got me so drunk that i forgot that i need to prep you before i fuck you”, and then he pushes one of his thick fingers in your hole, your gasp so loud in your own ears that normally it would make you feel embarrassed. he then continues “wouldn’t want to hurt my pretty girl when I’m supposed to be making you feel good, hm?”, he finishes and pushes another finger on the next time he pushes back inside of you.

if you had any mental strength left, you would’ve answered him, but there was literally nothing going on in your head other than how good his fingers felt, massaging your walls, scissoring you,his tumb gently massaging your clit in slow circles, pushing and pulling his fingers in a slow but steady pace, ever so often the til of his fingers grazing your g spot, making you moan in his face.

he fingers you as if he had tons of experience with your body, like he already knew how you liked it. and he does it all while looking at your face, his forehead slowly coming down to rest on your own.

after what you felt must’ve been hours when in reality it was just a few minutes, he seemed to be satisfied, pulling his fingers out completely.

and then he pushed the very same fingers inside of his mouth, eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing at your taste, humming in satisfaction as he licks his fingers clean.

you feel yourself clench as you watch him suck on his fingers. he looked like a god as he did it- his hair now messy and fluffy thanks to you, his expression looks like he’s having the best meal of his life, his tan skin glistening with sweat, his naked chest raising as he breathes in and out.

he looked so divine, it made you go just a little bit insane. just a bit.

he opens his dark eyes again, his face turning somewhat serious. seungcheol then slowly lowers himself down again, caging your head with his forearms that come to rest next to your head, making your entire focus shift to his eyes.

without much thought, you wrap your arms around his back, your legs locking themselves around his hips.

in the corner of your eye you see him his hand disappearing down, before you feel his cock teasing your folds, his head catching on your clit when he goes to pull it down back your folds. you gasp at this action, you eyes wanting to close themselves all on their own but your mind makes them stay open as you don’t want to miss a single thing.

his free hand comes to your face, pushing your hair back a little bit, before his tumb comes to wipe your bottom lip, your lips falling open on their own.

seungcheol caresses your cheek with the same tumb, and with gentle eyes and voice asks “ready?”.

to which you only nod your head slightly.

he smiles slightly before he lightly pinches your cheek “use your words, baby. i need to know you are 100% sure about this.”

a whispered ‘yes’ falls out of your mouth, your eyes in a trance with his own, the only things you are able to focus on are those chocolate orbs of his.

and then he’s pushing inside of you.

you both gasp at the burn, having difficulties fitting him inside of your tight hole.

his gasp turns into a rough growl, deeply saying “fuck, so tight, baby, you need to relax for me, otherwise i could hurt you”.

you try to listen to him, taking a deep breath in and out. kind of at the same time you both look down between yourselves.

only to see that he has only pushed his tip inside of you.

dear lord, may he help you survive this night.

as a minute passes by, you feel yourself slowly relax, seungcheol pushes himself a little bit more every few seconds until he’s completely bottoms out, his hips now touching yours.

he gives you a minute to relax, his hand gently rubbing your cheek, eyes lovingly looking at you.

as you give him a slight nod with your head, he slowly pulls out, before pushing back. he sets a slow pace for the start, carefully looking at your face for signs of discomfort, making your heart clench at his little signs of affection.

the pace continues for a few minutes, the thickness of his cock and how it massages your insides making you moan and him groan.

feeling like its not enough, you whine a little ‘more’ to him.

which was either the biggest mistake or the best decision of your life.

he quickens the movement of his hips slightly, the slapping of skin against skin now being added to the harmony that your moans and his groans were making.

his breath starts coming out heavier, the air that leaves his mouth lightly hitting your face as he’s fucking you.

you whine every time he pulls his hips back and moan every time he pushes them back, his cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

but it seems like you are so desperate for more, so insatiable, that you pull him closer to you with your hold around his shoulders, his face falling in the curve where your neck meets your shoulders, your own doing the very same, whining “more, please, give me more, i want more, please please please-“ directly in his ear, your eyes closing in pleasure.

seungcheol stops for second, making you whine in disappointment, takes ahold of your thighs to hitch your legs higher on his hips.

and then he doubles the speed of his hips.

he sets an insane pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, groans and deep moans falling out of his mouth. his dick feels so big, his head repeatedly hitting your spot, making your moans border on screams.

you can’t remember the last time you got fucked this good, and you were sure this will stay in your memory forever.

seungcheol continues with his merciless pace, your muscles clenching around him which in return makes him make more of those beautiful noises.

“you like that, baby? fuck, the noises you make- you are driving me insane. your pussy feels so tight- fuck, i can barely fit. and it’s so wet i- jesus. is this all for me? hm? so wet, just for me baby? fuck, i could fuck you for the rest of my life, never want to stop, want my dick inside of you all the time. you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty girl? fuck- such a good girl-“

he continues to praise you and talk about you good you feel, how you are being such a good girl for him, and normally you would answer.

(un)fortunately, you have zero thoughts going on in your mind, only able to moan in his ear while he kisses and bites your shoulder, neck and collarbones, the sting barely noticeable in comparison to the slapping of the skin you feel on the back of your thighs. with extra effort, you successfully say through a moan “more, please, gimme more”.

seungcheol growls at this, before he pulls out completely out of you. he then harshly pulls you by your thighs and turns you over, pulling your hips up before you even have the time to let out a gasp. your chest that are now lacking all the air are touching the mattress while your ass is in the air, fully exposed to seungcheol’s eyes.

without any warning he slaps your right ass cheek, something between a scream and a moan flying out of your mouth. not giving you any time to even process the action, he’s already pushing his cock back inside of you, the new angle making the stretch feel even more delicious.

“fuck, my girl is so desperate huh? so desperate for this cock, moaning so prettily for me. fuck, you are going to be the death of me, you and this pussy”.

he basically lays himself on top of you, covering your whole body with his own, his firm chest pressed in your back, before he resumes his quick pace.

seungcheol pounds into you, so much so that you feel your pussy burn from the force of his hips that are slapping against it.

he continues to praise you but unfortunately you don’t hear anything anymore, only things that you can focus on is the delicious stretch of his dick and how it’s repeatedly hitting your g spot.

feeling your finish approaching quicker than expected, you moan out “im coming im coming im comi-“.

seeing that he is in the same boat, seungcheol groans in your ear, his hand quickly finding your own and intertwining your hands. squeezing your hands tightly, he growls in your ear “cum. cum for me pretty girl, fuck- make a mess on this dick”.

he uses his free hand to find your clit and rub it quickly.

and then you are screaming in pleasure. you feel your walls squeezing him harder than ever, milking him dry, which triggers his own release, a deep moan rumbling in his chest against your own back.

he fucks your slowly through both of your orgasms, your mind so cloudy that you don’t even feel the bite on your shoulder that he had to do in order to quiet down his own moans.

after a minute you feel your thighs shake slightly from overstimulation, lightly tapping him on his arm to stop, and he does. he stays inside as he uses his hand to slightly rub the side of your thigh in comfort.

as you try to regain your breath, you feel seungcheol kiss your cheek lightly like a feather, before he asks.

“ready to give me one more, baby?”

your cheeks burn as your thoughts take over your mind again. quickly shaking them off, you pull on the shirt over your head before leaving the bathroom.

as quietly as possible, you enter seungcheol’s room to find him still sleeping on his stomach, his back turned to you. sighing in relief, you make a quick search for your things.

as you pull on your dress from last night, you grimace at the fact that you will have to wear the same pair of panties from last night.

as you make sure that you have all of your things, you slowly head for the doors.

until a voice behind you stops you.

“leaving already?”.

you stop in your tracks before slowly turning around to see seungcheol looking at you through puffy eyes.

“yknow, if you wanted to leave in the morning, you could’ve just told me that last night, i would’ve prepared a car to drive you back, but i was under the impression that you were going to stay and have a breakfast with me”, he finishes as he lightly rubs his face.

you quickly look down, embarrassment and guilt washing over your face. you did want to stay, you wanted to stay for as long as he would let you, but you weren’t sure if that would be okay for him, or if you even deserved it.

seeing the expression on your face, seungcheol then asks, barely above the whisper, pleading looking at you.

“stay? please?”.

you quickly look up to see his gentle eyes, before you answer unsurely.

“would that really be okay with you? it’s just- i wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a one time thing only or-or maybe- well, something more, so uh, i thought it be better to just leave a-and i-“

as you ramble, seungcheol feels his lips betray him as a small smile slowly gets bigger and bigger the longer you talk. deciding to make this easier for the both of you, he interrupts you.

“baby?”

you look at him with red cheeks, all and every thought you had evaporating from your mind.

seeing that he got your attention, he continues.

“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”

and who were you to deny him anything?

[gilverrwrites]

Discretely touching them down there to their parts and gently squeezing when no one is looking and them not being able to do anything (since it's in public).

Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, & Roy. AN: Anon you're a menace and I love ya!

Bruce

You get exactly one, which he acknowledges with a stern pout and a cocked brow. Flawlessly concealing the fire you’ve ignited but for his laboured breathing and blown-out pupils. You’re walking a thin line, behaving like a brat in front of Gotham’s elite.

If he sees you reaching for him again, and trust, he will see; it will take him precisely 0.8 seconds to lock you in an unsuspecting death grip and pull you close. He wants you to feel the increased tempo of his heart against your chest. To feel the growing stiffness of his hard-on grazing your hip as he tells you assertively to; “Behave.”  

Dick

Dick sees your game; he raises you tenfold. He knows you’re up to something when he clocks the determined bite of your lips as you survey the subway car, and the mischievous glint in your eye as you look back at him. When your hand snakes under this shirt, caressing his v-lines, he juts his hips forward, presenting himself to you; daring you to take it further.

When you sink your fingers below his waistband he sucks in a deliberately loud breath. You freeze to survey your surroundings, but Dick does not. Dick starts grinding on you until he senses you growing nervous. He locks a sturdy hand around your elbow just in time to prevent you from pulling away, leans in close and whispers; “What’s wrong baby? Thought you wanted to play?”

Jason

“Is that a gun in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?” You giggle at your own joke, because Jason is always packing some form of heat. He might have laughed too, might have trapped your wrist in his hands and rocked against your outstretched palm if you’d been at home, or the club, or even the casino. But not the fucking grocery store, you little perv.  

“Are you drunk?” He offers you an out, glaring down at you with a gaze fierce enough to make a nun blush. You respond with a brazen-faced shake of your head, and he can’t help but imitate it out of disbelief at your cocky attitude. You stay like that, locked in a stare of, rock vs hard place, until Jason cracks first, noticing a couple rounding the corner at the other end of the aisle.

He grabs your arm with an unapologetic level of force, spinning you around and trapping you between his body and the trolley. Hiding his hardness by pressing it against your back. “You’re in for it later.”

Tim

Tim is the most taken aback. His pale blue eyes are rapidly examining your surroundings the moment he feels your devious fingers ghosting over the top of his thigh. He’s cute when he’s flustered, with pink cheeks and blown-out pupils. Nobody is looking, too focused on the conference speaker.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, but before he can get his words out, your hand is gone, casually pulling a non-existent thread from your sleeve.

You don’t reply, you just smile and shoot him a playful wink which puts him even more on edge. So much so that when you abruptly return, this time cupping his half-hard cock through his jeans that he fucking flinches. His knee hits the chair in front, and he sucks in a loud breath, earning him many pointed glares from multiple members of the audience.

“Babe.” Be tries to warn, but his hushed breathy tone makes him sound exactly as aroused as he feels.

Roy

You get it, you do. It was a long trip, and he’s starving but you’ve really been feeling his absence over the last few weeks, and the fact that you’re currently sat in a Burrito Bucket, watching Roy devour a tray of tacos, instead of being at home and watching him devour you, is a problem.

He seems to have noticed your sulking, but too late. “You okay ho- “

His question is halted by your foot tactfully situating itself between his legs. His gaze flits between his food and you, defiant eyes watching you through a mop of shaggy hair. A knowing grin spreads across his queso-stained lips as you answer faux-sweetly. “I’m fine, baby.”

“Right.” He huffs, breath hitching, freckled cheeks turning red when you press your toes down and something firm pushes back. He knows what you want, but he just loves to play dumb. So, he takes another bite, jerking every time you tap or roll your foot but never acknowledging what you’re silently begging for. “Is this one of those things where you say you’re fine, but actually you’re not fine?”

“I’m going home.” You finally concede with an exaggerated sigh, dropping your foot back to the floor and gathering your things.

“I’m coming with you.” He’s on you the moment you stand, draping his arm over you and placing kisses to the side of your neck, your face, whatever he can reach as you struggle to move with his deadweight over your shoulders. Notably, there’s still half a tray of uneaten tacos left on the table. “Funnily enough, I’m hungry for something else now.”

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[howtobeamagicalgirl]

The assistant manager was bitchy about my classroom being messy and unorganized while I was out sick, and apparently, while I was gone, she set out a bucket of toys that were set aside for outdoor play (visibly covered in dirt), put out a teaching tool as a toy (pieces now scattered around the room), and put paper and borders up on my bulletin boards (with staples, which aren't allowed in my classroom. We have to use tape. And now there are staples all over my classroom carpets).

[ducktoo]

How to take care of Jiwon

IVE's Liz x Reader

Note: Anon, hope this was something you were asking for (I think). Twas' a fun prompt and I enjoyed it frfr. Feel free to DM me ur thoughts!

(This German girl do be looking cute-)

“Again?”

You don’t even look up from your computer screen. You already know who it is.

There’s a quiet giggle, followed by the sound of someone shuffling through your things. You sigh, rubbing your temple before shooting a glare at the intruder currently invading your workspace—none other than Kim Jiwon(or Liz), your childhood friend turned global idol, standing beside your desk like she owns the place.

“Can you not touch my stuff?” you grumble, snatching a framed photo from her hands before she can get any ideas.

She blinks at you innocently. “You keep this here?”

You glance down at the picture, already knowing which one she’s referring to. It’s an old, slightly faded photo from elementary school—Liz, missing her two front teeth, flashing a peace sign, while you stand beside her with the grumpiest expression imaginable. You had never liked taking pictures, but Liz had insisted back then. Looking at it now, you don’t even remember why you agreed to keep it on your desk.

“It’s just decoration,” you mutter, setting it back down.

Liz hums, but there’s a knowing glint in her eyes. “Sure, sure.”

She doesn’t leave. Of course, she doesn’t. You’re already used to this little routine.

Despite her packed schedule, Liz always finds time to drop by your office whenever she’s at the company. She claims it’s because she’s curious about what you do, but you know better. The real reason? She just enjoys annoying you.

She picks up your stationery, taps at your keyboard, sometimes even steals your coffee—because “staff coffee tastes different.” You tolerate it because, well… it’s Liz. You’ve known her since you were kids.

It’s still crazy how you both ended up here…especially after how you reunited.

-

To this day, you still don’t know how the hell that situation happened.

You had only been working at Starship Entertainment for about a month at that point. Just a regular staff member, trying not to get scolded, running around delivering paperwork, managing schedules—nothing out of the ordinary.

Then came that time.

One of your first bigger assignments had been to handle some logistics for IVE’s new comeback. Simple enough. Make sure the equipment was working, ensure the space was ready, help with any requests—it was routine.

What wasn’t routine was somehow ending up in a storage closet with a girl in a hoodie, a bucket of spilled cleaning supplies, and the worst case of déjà vu you’ve ever experienced.

…Let’s back up.

That day, you had been in a rush, carrying a stack of documents for the management team when you took a wrong turn down a hallway you didn’t usually use. It led to one of the storage rooms, where cleaning supplies and extra equipment were kept.

The door was slightly open.

Then, without warning—

CRASH.

Something—or someone—barreled right into you, sending both of you stumbling backwards into the closet.

The door slammed shut behind you.

Silence.

For a moment, you just laid there on the floor, trying to process the fact that you had just been body-slammed into a janitor’s closet. Your head throbbed. You could hear the faint creak of a mop falling somewhere nearby.

And then—

“…Wait. Grumpy?”

You froze.

That voice. That stupidly familiar voice.

Slowly, you looked up.

And there, crouched in the dim light, staring at you like she had just seen a ghost—was the one and only. Your childhood friend. The same girl you hadn’t seen in years.

In a janitor’s closet. With you.

What. The. Hell.

“…What are you doing here?” she asked, blinking rapidly.

You stared at her. “What are you doing around here in the management area?”

“I asked first!”

“I work here!”

That seemed to short-circuit her brain for a second. Her eyes widened, then darted to the staff ID clipped to your shirt. Slowly, realization dawned on her face.

“…You work at Starship?”

“Yes?!”

"Since when?!"

"Since I got hired, duh!"

Liz opened her mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. She blinked.

Then—

She burst out laughing.

“You—You actually work here?” she wheezed, clutching her stomach. “Oh my God, this is unreal. This is so unreal.”

"Tsk." You scowled. “Glad to see my suffering is entertaining you.”

“I can’t believe this! We literally grew up together, lost contact, and now you’re working for my company? This is insane.” She wiped at her eyes, still laughing. “And—wait, you of all people? You always hated dealing with people!”

“Yeah, well, life’s funny like that,” you muttered. You rubbed your temples, exhaling through your nose. “Okay, but why were you sneaking around?”

Liz suddenly looked away, suspiciously avoiding eye contact. “No reason.”

“…You were stealing snacks from the staff area again, weren’t you?”

Silence.

“…Maybe.”

Unbelievable. Some things really never changed.

-

And that was how you reunited.

You had spent a solid fifteen minutes stuck in that closet with Liz before someone finally found you two. The rest of the staff had been utterly confused, and you had to endure Liz wheezing with laughter for the rest of the day.

Ever since then, she had made it her personal mission to annoy you at work.

Which brings you to now.

“Alright, stay put. Don’t touch anything,” you warn as you stand from your desk, stretching your arms before grabbing your phone. “I need to get some files from the storage room.”

Liz, perched on the edge of your desk like she owns the place, swings her legs lazily. “No promises.”

You narrow your eyes. “I mean it. Hands off.”

She hums innocently, lips curling into a playful smile. “Of course, of course.”

You don’t trust her one bit.

Still, you leave, because you have to, but you throw one last suspicious glance over your shoulder before stepping out.

The door clicks shut…and Liz immediately disregards your warning.

“Don’t touch anything,” she mocks under her breath, rolling her eyes. As if she could ever listen to that. "Bleh. What are you, my mom?"

She stretches her arms with a yawn, then lazily lets her fingers drift across your desk, poking at whatever looks mildly interesting. The keyboard? Tap. A stack of documents? Poke. Your half-empty coffee cup? Swirl.

And then she sees it.

A small, slightly worn notebook tucked beside your monitor, the corner peeking out as if daring her to take a look.

Curious, she pulls it free and flips it over in her hands. The second she reads the cover, her breath catches in her throat.

"How to Take Care of Jiwon the Annoying Child"

She blinks. Once. Twice.

Then, a slow, delighted smile spreads across her face.

“Oh?”

Her heart beats a little faster as she carefully flips the first page. The handwriting is neat—your handwriting. She skims over the lines, amusement bubbling in her chest.

Jiwon gets grumpy when she hasn’t eaten. Always have snacks on hand.

She giggles. “So that’s why you always have extra snacks.”

She flips to the next one.

She gets sleepy after eating too much. Don’t let her nap on the practice room floor. Would be annoying to tend to the sick Jiwon.

A small gasp escapes her lips. “Wait, is that why you always wake me up first?”

Another page.

If she’s sad, buy her ice cream. Preferably chocolate.

Her heart flutters. You really do notice everything, huh?

She keeps reading, her amusement growing. But then—

The notes start getting weirder.

If she starts humming randomly, she’s in a good mood. If she’s humming AND staring at me, she’s plotting something. Probably my usual dose of suffering.

Liz snorts. “What do you mean?”

DO NOT let her near a stray cat. She will try to take it home.

She gasps, clutching her chest. “That happened one time, trust me–”

If she says ‘Trust me,’ DO NOT TRUST HER.

Liz bursts into laughter. “Damn it! Okay, fair.”

The notes only get more ridiculous.

She once ate an entire cake by herself just to prove she could. Do NOT challenge her to food-related dares.

If she looks too smug, she probably stole my drink.

If she looks too cute and uses her dumb aegyo, she’s about to ask for a favour.

Her giggles come uncontrollably now. She flips through the pages quickly, eager to see what else you’ve written. But then—

The shift happens. The notes stop being ridiculous. They start being… something else.

When she’s nervous, she fidgets with her necklace. Let her hold onto my sleeve instead.

Her fingers touch her necklace instinctively. "Huh…you do wear long sleeves every time we meet…"

Liz acts tough, but she cries at sad movies. Keep tissues ready.

Her laughter softens. "No I don't…mostly…"

She overworks herself even when she’s exhausted. Sometimes she just needs someone to tell her to rest.

Her heart clenches.

And then, the last note. It might have been scribbled out but…She stares at it. She couldn't unsee it after once.

If she ever gets too tired, remind her she doesn’t have to do everything alone. Remind her that I’m here….

Her grip tightens on the notebook.

She rereads the words, once, twice—three times.

She always knew you cared. In your own way—grumbling, teasing, acting like she was the most annoying person in the world. But this? You had written this down. As if it was important. As if you wanted to remember, just in case.

As if she mattered.

Her chest feels warm.

The door creaks open.

“Alright, I got the—”

Your words cut off when you see her holding the notebook.

You freeze mid-step.

Liz is holding the notebook. Jiwon is reading the notebook.

Your stomach drops.

She looks up at you, notebook still clutched in her hands, her expression unreadable.

You stand there, the file folder limp in your grip.

Then, slowly, a mischievous glint appears in her eyes.

“You mother f—”

Before you can even lunge for it, Liz hugs the notebook to her chest, scrambling to her feet. Her breath comes out in an excited rush.

“Oh my god,” she breathes, eyes sparkling. “You do care about me!”

You feel actual panic set in. “PUT THAT DOWN. KIM JIWON.”

She takes a step back, holding it tighter. “No way! This is adorable! You—You actually wrote down how to take care of me?!”

You can feel your dignity slipping away.

“I— It’s not what it looks like—”

“Ohhh, let’s see what else—” She flips back to the earlier pages, reading aloud dramatically. “‘If she’s nervous, let her hold onto my sleeve instead.’”

Your ears burn as your hand subconsciously rolled up your sleeves in embarrassment.

"Oooohh, you're wearing long sleeve today as well, huh?!" Liz gasps, looking up at you with exaggerated shock. “You let me do that? Willingly?!”

You grit your teeth. “GIVE. IT. BACK.”

She twirls away, flipping through more pages. “Wait, wait—‘If she looks too smug, she probably stole my drink.’” She gasps in fake offense. “So that’s why you glare at me whenever I take a sip.”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “Jiwon—”

She keeps going, eyes darting across the pages. But then—

She reaches the last note again.

Her laughter fades.

Silence stretches between you.

She rereads the words, her fingers brushing lightly over the ink. Then, slowly, she lifts her head.

The teasing glint in her eyes is gone. Instead, there’s something softer. Something more sincere.

“…You really meant this?” she asks, voice quieter.

You shift uncomfortably. “U-um…I—”

Her gaze lingers on you for a moment. Then, before you can react, she lunges at you again, but this time, she hugs you.

You stiffen immediately.

“…Ya.”

She squeezes you tighter.

“Shhh,” she mumbles into your shoulder. “Just let me hug you, you tsundere.”

You stand there, unmoving, ears burning. Your hands hover awkwardly before—finally—you sigh and pat her back.

“…You’re so annoying.”

She giggles against your shoulder. “I know.”

After a moment, she pulls back, grinning. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

You roll your eyes, snatching the notebook from her hands before she can react. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to serialise this and give it to your members.”

She beams. “That sounds fun actually.”

[22ayla21]

Hello ❤️👋🏻

I suddenly got the idea of a trio of Amphoreus husbands getting caught up in a mess made by the kids. when their wife see the mess, the husbands and kids get scolded and end up cleaning up the mess they made. I want it to be fluffier ❤️

Family Chaos

Children love mischief, but this time Dad also became a victim and an accomplice.

It all started with an ordinary idea. Mydei just wanted to have some fun with the kids. He was a warrior, a proud heir of Kremnos, but in the presence of his little ones, he turned into an ordinary dad – starting pillow fights, running around the rooms pretending to be a monster, and not even afraid to get his clothes dirty with paint if the situation called for it.

That day, it all began with a simple activity – the children decided to build a "fort" in the living room. And what kind of fort is it without real walls made of pillows, blankets, and overturned chairs? Mydei, of course, supported this idea.

"If it's a fort, then it has to be the most impregnable one!" he declared, helping the children build a huge, shaky structure out of everything they could find.

It turned into real madness. Pillows flew around the room, thumping on the floor. Blankets got caught on the furniture, and the chairs just wouldn't stand straight. At some point, even large trays were used – for "protective gates."

But the real commotion started when the youngest daughter, beaming with delight, suggested adding some color. Literally. She brought out jars of paint and suggested "decorating" the walls of their castle. Mydei, of course, hesitated at first. But when his daughter looked at him with those pleading eyes, it was impossible to resist.

"Okay, just a little."

Those words became fateful.

An hour later, everything around was covered in paint. Pillows, the floor, furniture... even Mydei himself was covered in multicolored spots because the children happily used him as a living canvas. He realized he had gone too far when he saw puddles of red and blue paint spreading across the floor.

"Oh dear..."

That's when the door opened.

"What's going on here?!"

His wife's voice sounded like a thunderclap.

Mydei froze. The children did too.

She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, surveying the ransacked living room. The room resembled a battlefield. Pillows were scattered everywhere, chairs were on their sides, and the furniture... her beloved furniture was smeared with paint.

She slowly looked at him. Then at the children. Then back at him.

Silence fell. And then...

"Clean up. Everything. Immediately."

Mydei mechanically nodded.

"Yes, of course."

He didn't even try to argue.

The children whined, but he quickly leaned towards them and whispered, "If we hurry, we might survive."

They understood it wasn't a joke. The cleanup started instantly.

At first, the children tried to wash the paint off the floor, but it turned out to be harder than they thought. The stains wouldn't come off on the first try, and they kept leaving new marks while trying to remove the old ones.

Mydei was also working – picking up pillows, putting chairs back in place, and scrubbing the furniture, realizing he would be paying for this mess for a long time.

But despite everything, the atmosphere wasn't... that gloomy.

The children giggled, hiding behind the sofa, when Mydei clumsily tried to wipe paint off his hand and then accidentally smeared it on his face. Eventually, even he laughed when his son spilled a bucket of water while trying to mop the floor, and they all ended up in a puddle.

Even their mom, standing aside with a stern look, barely smiled, watching the chaos.

When the living room finally looked like a living room again, Mydei sighed and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

"It's done. We did it."

The children sighed in relief. He opened one eye and looked at his wife. She glanced at him, then sighed and shook her head.

"You're worse than the children, Mydei." He smirked.

"But you still love me." She rolled her eyes.

"Who said that?"

"I know."

And then she smiled. And he realized he had gotten off easy.

The house was too quiet. Anaxa immediately knew it wasn't a good sign.

Usually, the walls shook with the children's laughter, the rumble of running feet, the clatter of toys on the floor, and the whispers of conspirators plotting another prank. But now – suspicious silence. It could only mean one thing: something had happened.

He slowly moved down the hallway, listening. In the distance, a muffled giggle sounded, followed by the sound of something falling. Anaxa frowned.

When he looked into the living room, his gaze immediately fell upon the scene of chaos.

Pillows were scattered all over the room, books were thrown off the shelves, fresh drawings adorned the wall, and one of the children stood proudly on an overturned chair, like a conqueror of new lands. In the center of this mess, the youngest son, covered in flour from head to toe, and next to him, his daughter, whose hands were covered in paint.

"Dad!" she squealed happily, spotting him.

At that moment, someone grabbed his hand, and before he could react, a barrage of pillows fell on him. Blinking, he looked at the laughing children, who were clearly waiting for his reaction.

"What are you..." he began, but didn't finish. Someone accidentally bumped into a vase. It wobbled, and before Anaxa could catch it, it shattered.

There was a pause.

"Oops," the daughter mumbled guiltily.

Anaxa slowly ran his hand over his face, realizing the scale of the catastrophe. This was bad. Very bad.

And at that moment, his wife appeared in the doorway.

She froze, slowly surveying the room. Her gaze slid over the scattered books, overturned chairs, stained walls, shards of the vase, and finally, to the youngest son, who looked like he had just been rolled in flour.

Anaxa read everything in her eyes: fatigue, surprise, and the silent question – how? How could they turn the house into a battlefield in just a couple of hours?

But before she could say anything, the children started chattering, interrupting each other. One claimed they just wanted to decorate the room, another said the paint fell accidentally, and the third assured that it wasn't him at all.

Anaxa and his wife exchanged glances.

She sighed, pressing her lips together, as if deciding whether to give a lecture.

"Clean up," she finally said.

Anaxa mentally exhaled. He had expected something worse.

The children groaned in protest, but his wife had already turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving them to deal with the consequences.

"Well," Anaxa sighed, rolling up his sleeves. "Let's get to work."

At first, the cleanup was slow. The children grumbled, lazily picked up books, reluctantly scrubbed paint off the walls, and kept trying to resume the pillow fight. But gradually, it turned into a game: they competed to see who could clean up faster, who could stack more pillows, who could collect more books. Even the youngest son, still covered in flour, ran around with a rag, "cleaning."

Anaxa couldn't help but smile, watching their efforts.

When his wife returned, the room was already shining with order.

She appraised the room and nodded.

"Not bad," she admitted.

Anaxa theatrically wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead, and the children proudly puffed out their chests.

His wife shook her head, but, to everyone's surprise, she came over and ruffled the youngest son's hair.

"Next time, just ask if you want to decorate something, okay?" she said with a soft smile. The children nodded in unison.

Anaxa grinned. He knew that in this house full of noise, fun, and mischief, there would always be room for order. After all, the most important thing here is love.

The house fell into silence – a strange, unsettling silence, quite uncharacteristic of an ordinary day. But inside, there was real pandemonium.

The living room looked like a battlefield after a fierce fight. Blankets, pillows, soft toys – all of it was scattered on the floor, creating bizarre structures resembling fortresses. Paper flags adorned the walls, and in the middle of this chaos stood a man, looking around in confusion.

The culprits of this mess sat nearby – his children, who had already realized they had gone too far, but still hoped they could somehow get away with it. Their eyes sparkled with fun, but there was a slight anxiety behind it – what would Mom say when she saw this mess?

"Okay," he muttered to himself, surveying the aftermath of the game. "We'll clean it up."

But before he could do anything, the living room door swung open, and his wife appeared on the threshold.

She froze. She surveyed the room. Slowly, she looked at her husband, then at the children, then back at her husband.

He felt a chill inside.

There was a dead silence.

The children sat like statues, afraid to breathe. The husband even took a step back, as if trying to disappear into thin air.

"And how..." she slowly inhaled. "How did this happen?"

Her husband's guilty gaze darted around the room in search of an excuse, but besides the mess that prevailed everywhere, he found nothing that could save him.

"Um... we got a little carried away with the game?"

His wife closed her eyes, clearly holding back her emotions.

"'A little'?" she repeated, stretching out the words as if tasting them. He realized there was no chance of rescue.

"Okay!" he sighed, turning to the children. "We need to clean all this up, otherwise..."

"Otherwise Mom will make us live in boxes on the street?" one of the children asked timidly. Mom's eyes flashed.

"Not that harsh, but I'll consider it."

It worked. The mess, which seemed so harmless during the game, suddenly became a serious problem.

Work began.

The fortresses began to be dismantled into pieces, blankets returned to beds, toys – to boxes. The eldest son tried to find the culprit of the spilled juice, the youngest daughter ran around with a vacuum cleaner she could barely hold.

And the father? He stood in the middle of this hustle and bustle, holding a huge stack of pillows and blankets, trying in vain to figure out where to put them.

"I don't even remember where this was lying," he admitted, looking helplessly at his wife.

She just sighed, but a smile flickered at the corners of her lips.

"Give it here."

The work took longer than everyone expected. But at some point, the cleanup turned into a game – the children started laughing, throwing soft toys at each other, the husband played along, tossing pillows and pretending to accidentally fall into a blanket trap.

His wife watched them, trying to hide her smile. Yes, it was a nightmare in terms of order. But seeing them so happy... It was worth all the effort.

When everything was finally cleaned up, they collapsed onto the sofa – tired but satisfied.

Phainon turned to his wife, hoping for praise.

"Well? Everything's clean, right?"

She looked at him, slowly surveying the room.

"Almost," she replied, pointing to a lone pillow in the corner. He sighed heavily, got up, picked up the pillow, and with mock weariness, threw it onto the sofa.

"That's it, now for sure!"

His wife chuckled and covered the youngest daughter, who was already nodding off, with a blanket.

"Okay, I'll forgive you this time," she said, and then added with a sly look, "But next time, you clean up without my reminders."

The father and children exchanged glances.

"We'll see," he muttered, grinning.

And although this day was tiring, there was something truly warm and homely about it – fun, chaos, teamwork, and the family warmth that made even the biggest messes a trifle.

[cxvii666]

omfg i’ve been binge reading all your sero shit PLEASE it’s so good😭😭😭🙏🙏

can i scrimp some crumbs of college friend sero 🤲🤲 the way you write his smug ass has me spirallingggg and now i’m stuck thinking about what it would be like to have a friends w benefits type situation w him (pls im just a bitch down bad for a man who teases😔)

hehehehhehe 😝😝😝 how bout some coworker sero, ur both tired underpaid overworked students with nothing better to do on ur breaks

i might do more of this bcos coworker sero 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

it’s disgusting back here.

hot as hell. fluorescent lights flickering like they’re about to die. the tile is sticky. there’s a mop bucket in the corner that’s smelled like feet since last tuesday. you’re half-sitting on a plastic crate of off-brand soda syrup because all the chairs are taken and the only fan is aimed directly at the pastry case like it deserves to live more than you do.

and sero hanta—busboy, menace, gum-under-the-table bandit—is standing in front of you, chewing on the end of a straw like it's candy.

“you got something on your cheek,” he says, leaning in like he’s about to help. he doesn’t. just stares at it. smirks.

you flip him off.

he just grins wider. “damn, i was gonna get it for you. real sweet-like. real gentleman shit.”

“you’re not a gentleman,” you say, flat.

“nah,” he agrees. “but you like me like this.”

you do. unfortunately.

there’s something about sero that’s always a little off-kilter. a little frayed at the edges. like the gum he chews is also holding him together. he’s got an apron slung around his hips like he forgot to tie it, sleeves pushed up, sweat at his temples, and a half-finished order ticket stuffed behind his ear like he’s pretending to be organized.

he’s got this whole casual slouchy thing going, but you know better. you’ve seen the way he shifts when customers get nasty. the little smile that shows up when someone’s yelling and he’s pretending not to hear it. the way he walks through the kitchen like he’s part of the walls, but still knows every conversation happening behind them.

you’ve kissed him behind the walk-in cooler.

twice.

and once in the dry storage. and once in his car after a double shift when you were both still in your aprons, smelling like fryer oil and bad decisions.

technically, that last one wasn’t just kissing.

you’ve never talked about it. it’s not that kind of thing.

he’s not that kind of guy.

you’re not that kind of girl.

“how’s your section?” he asks now, leaning a hip against the sink like he owns the place.

you shrug. “dead. table seven asked if the lemonade had sugar in it.”

he snorts. “did you lie?”

“obviously.”

he tilts his head. “you’re hot when you’re morally bankrupt.”

“you’re hot when you shut the fuck up.”

he gives you a look at that. eyes low, mouth twitching. and then he’s stepping forward, one knee bumping the crate you’re perched on, one hand braced against the wall next to your head. just a little too close. just enough to feel it.

you tilt your chin up. don’t move.

“you got something to say?” you ask, cool.

“nope,” he says, all teeth. “but you look real pretty when you’re pretending you don’t wanna be kissed.”

your stomach flips. annoying. predictable.

you hate that he’s right.

“who said i’m pretending?”

that’s all it takes.

his mouth is on you in the next breath—hot and reckless and impatient. not romantic. not careful. he kisses like you’ve both got five minutes before someone walks in and asks for extra sauce.

your hands find the front of his shirt. tug him closer. he groans into your mouth, low and familiar.

his fingers drag up under the hem of your shirt, rough from dishes, cold from the soda machine. yours slide down the curve of his spine, tug at the waistband of his apron.

you bite his lip. he laughs.

“jesus,” he mutters, “you’re gonna kill me.”

“you started it.”

“nah, babe,” he says, breathless. “you did. with that little ‘don’t talk to me’ face. with your lip gloss. and that dumb little walk you do when you’re mad. you’re evil.”

you grin against his mouth. “you love it.”

he hums. “i’d love it more if you were sitting on my lap right now.”

you arch a brow. “we’re in the back of the restaurant.”

“yeah,” he grins. “adds ambiance.”

you roll your eyes. kiss him again.

it’s filthy. it’s messy. it’s way too hot back here. the clock above the fryer says you’ve got seven minutes before you’re supposed to be back on the floor pretending you care about soup specials and credit card tips.

his hands are on your thighs. your hair’s a mess. your apron is halfway off. you’re both a little sweaty and out of breath and glowing with something that feels like a secret.

you pull back just enough to whisper, “you’re gonna fuck up my makeup.”

he just smirks. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you shake your head. push him off with a palm to the chest. he steps back, still smiling.

“clock’s ticking,” you say, smoothing your shirt, like that’ll help.

“yeah yeah,” he mutters, adjusting his apron like that’ll help.

he’s already halfway out the door when he glances back and adds, “hey.”

you look up.

he winks. “come find me on your twenty. i’ll make it worse.”

you don’t say anything.

but your lip gloss is already smudged.

and your mouth tastes like him.

[delicatebarness]

the Red Rooms | prologue

Summary: In the gritty underground, the Red Rooms is a notorious establishment, in which, you must navigate a perilous hierarchy and prove your worth amidst a world of seduction and power.

Warning: Prostitution/Sex Work. Sexual Harassment/Assault. Violence/Threats. Power Dynamics/Control. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 1579

Spotify Playlist | Support: Ko-FI

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: A lot of you asked for this one so here it is. Also, this is a part of 'Prologue Season' so if you do want more, you gotta let me know :D - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

The Red Rooms: I have tagged everyone from the OG post about this fic, but please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed - @scott-loki-barnes | @bo0mccc | @zuri-767-666 | @buggy14 | @curlycow01 | @waywardhunter95 | @saranghaey | @scoonsalicious | @thezombieprostitute | @crazyunsexycool | @startcarvingdarling | @jae0515

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @mrsnikstan | @lanabuckybarnes

Pulsing like a heartbeat, the city’s neon glow cast long shadows across the grime-slicked streets of the underground district. Among the towering spires of steel and glass, you stood at the doorstep of the more notorious establishment in the district: The Red Rooms. Ran by Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, the sprawling brothel was a labyrinthine for those to seek pleasure and escape. For you, it was neither. You were here out of desperation. 

Inside, an unspoken hierarchy governs the world, symbolized by the height of a girl’s heel. The higher the heel, the more power and influence the girl wields. And, at the pinnacle of this ladder stood Natasha Romanoff. Clawing her way to the top, she proved her worth through years of cunning strength, and an unwavering will. Now, Steve and Bucky entrusted her with an immense responsibility– overseer of the girls, she would recruit, assign, and train the girls in the art of seduction. 

Natasha knew every girl under her command, she understood their strengths and weaknesses, and with sharp eyes and that knowledge, she maintained order and efficiency. So when you, a lost soul, bedraggled and tired, appeared on the doorstep of The Red Rooms, Natasha’s skepticism was palpable. 

You were different from the other girls, too innocent, too fragile– Natasha could tell in your pleading eyes. 

“Please,” you begged, your voice small and trembling. “I need a chance. I’ll do anything.” 

Narrowing her eyes, Natasha’s lips curled, a mix of amusement and disbelief. “Anything, you say?” she mused, tapping her manicured fingers against the back of her clipboard. “Alright,” she finally said, her voice firm. “But, you need to prove yourself or you’re out. And, you’ll start from the bottom, in flats.” 

“Thank you,” you beamed up at her, your gratitude boundless. “I won’t let you down.” 

Her tone left no room for failure as Natasha replied. “See that you don’t.” 

Swelling within you, your gratitude was overshadowed quickly by the reality of your situation. The world you were thrown into was as foreign as it was ruthless. Eyes mixed with curiosity and disdain followed you, towering heels clicked against the grime, and sticky floors as they passed. You were a lamb among wolves, out of place.

The menial tasks were assigned to you at first– scrubbing the floors, fetching drinks, and running errands. “Here,” Natasha said, handing you a mop and bucket, “the VIP lounge needs cleaning. Make it quick; clients hate waiting.” 

Nodding, you got straight to work, knowing that each task you completed was one step closer to proving yourself. Slowly, Natasha began to see glimpses of your strength as she watched you closely, her sharp eyes never missing anything. 

~

The girls in The Red Rooms rarely saw their bosses, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes– preferring to remain in the shadows, the men oversaw their empire from their office. They were only known to descend when they were bored and in need of entertainment themselves. 

One night, as the red hue of the lights flickered and the floor buzzed the murmurs of secrets and transactions, the men stood observing the floor from their office, taking in every detail. That was when you caught Steve’s gaze. 

“Why the fuck is there a lost puppy on the floor?” He muttered to Bucky, annoyance and curiosity laced in his tone. Bucky stood with an inscrutable expression as his gaze followed Steve’s, landing on you. “What is Romanoff thinking?” 

The men continued to watch you, for a moment longer, Steve’s eyes narrowing as he assessed your movements. You could sense the intensity of their stares, the weight of Steve’s scrutiny, even from the floor below, and it made you nervous. A heat rose within you, flushing your cheeks. You tried to focus on your tasks and ignore them.

Later, Steve called Natasha up to the office. “Romanoff, what’s the deal with the new girl?” he demanded in a low but firm voice. “She’s not even in heels. We have a reputation to uphold.” 

Meeting his gaze, Natasha never flinched. “She’s different, Rogers. She needs a little time… but she has spirit and is an eager learner.” 

Steve’s eyes darkened as they bore into hers, he searched for any sign of doubt. “She better be worth it. We can’t afford any liabilities.” 

“She will be,” Natasha assured him, her tone unwavering. “Just trust me on this.” 

With a grunt, Steve dismissed Natasha. He was not entirely convinced, yet he knew better than to question her judgment. After all, she had earned her position through intelligent decisions. Meanwhile, Bucky’s intrigue grew. He stayed stood at the window, watching you more closely. An instinct coursed through him– he had to ensure you were safe from the predatory patrons. 

As the nights went on, the pressure mounted. Now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Bucky observing from above, his presence felt like a warning but yet, a strange comfort. On this particular night, Natasha handed you a tray of drinks. 

“Serve them,” she instructed, nodding and pushing you by the small of your back toward a table of upstaters in the VIP lounge. “And remember; confidence.” 

Taking a deep breath, you approached the table. Keeping your hands steady despite the growing flutter in your stomach, you served them quickly and efficiently. The clients barely looked up at you, engrossed in their conversation, except for one. A taller man, with a gleam in his eyes, took an interest in you. His gaze lingered as you bent to place the drinks on the table. Suddenly, you felt his hand start to slide up the back of your leg. 

“Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his fingers tracing patterns along your inner thigh. “How much for you?” 

Fear and discomfort flooded your senses, causing you to freeze in the moment. Remember Natasha’s advice, you tried to remain composed. “Confidence,” her voice echoed in your mind. Straightening up, you forced a polite smile as you began moving away from his reach. 

His grip tightened against your skin before you could escape. “Don’t be shy, baby,” he cooed, a smirk played on his lips. “I don’t bite… hard.” 

“I-I’m not available t-tonight,” you stuttered, your voice betraying you. The fear gnawed at you. “An-another time, p-perhaps?” You tried to retreat again, but he wasn’t having it. His hand only tightened, and before you knew it, he pulled you closer.

“Come on,” he said, his smirk growing as he dragged you onto his lap. “Let’s have a little fun.”

Your heart began to race as you struggled against his hold, panic surging through you. “Please, I–” 

Just then, a shadow detached itself from the darkness. Emerging with a swift and decisive stride, Bucky’s expression was a mask of controlled fury. His presence commanded the attention in an instant. 

“Let her go,” he was cold, authoritative. The man flinched under the carried weight of Bucky’s tone. With an intensity, promising trouble, his eyes locked onto the man’s.

The man’s confidence wavered, faltering his grip as he met Bucky’s gaze. “Hey, I was just–”

“Not interested,” Bucky cut him off, no argument brooked in his tone. Reaching out, he firmly but calmly pulled you away from the man’s lap. “If you have any more questions, you can take them up with me.” 

Realizing he was outmatched, the man grumbled and slunk back, he was deflated. Guiding you away from the table, Bucky’s touch was gentle. He led you out of the immediate fray, to a quieter corner. 

“Are you alright, little pup?” Bucky softly asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, trying to steady your breathing. Once you looked up at him, your eyes were wide and tear-filled, and your lower lip trembled slightly. “T-thank you, M-Mr Barnes, I didn’t t-think–”

Bucky’s expression softened, and for a moment there was a rare flicker of empathy in his eyes. “No need to thank me,” he interrupted, his gaze steady and reassuring. “Just doing my job.” 

Your voice was barely above a whisper, shaking your head. “I just… I don’t want to get in trouble.” 

“You’re not in trouble,” Bucky said firmly, his hand reaching to cup your cheek, his thumb reassuringly wiping a stray tear away. “You’re doing your best, and that’s enough. If anyone gives you trouble, you come straight to me. Is that understood, pup?”

Biting your lip to hold back more tears, you nodded again. “I understand, Mr Barnes.” 

“Good girl,” he replied gently, his protective gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he took a step back. His hand slipped away from your cheek as he straightened up, but his eyes never left yours. “Now, get back out there, there are drinks to be served.” 

“Y-yes, sir,” you whispered, wiping away the last of your tears, your resolve strengthening. 

With a final nod, Bucky turned on his heel and disappeared back into the shadows. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and stepped back onto the floor. The crowd murmured, swelling around you. 

As you moved through the floor, you couldn’t help but feel the eyes of the patrons on you, you held your head high this time. Balancing your tray of drinks with newfound confidence and a determination to push forward. 

You caught sight of Natasha, giving you a slight nod of approval before her eyes flickered briefly toward the shadows, where Bucky stood watching. And, with each tray you served, your fear and hesitation diminished. 

---

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

[gremlinmodetweeker]

König of the Icks

I’m sorry y’all, König is an ick magnet. He’s such an awful human being. Not because he’s genuinely vile or awful or morally fucked (okay a bit morally fucked), but simply because he does so many things that give the ick. He’s King of the Icks. He really is. He’s awful. So, with me breaking your bubble, let’s go over a few of the icks that I think are most prevalent. More posts of König icks to come.

König wears socks and sandals. Or socks and crocs. He’s awful. He only does it when he’s wading in the water, meaning he’ll walk around in wet socks for about an hour afterwards until they dry out. It’s so disgusting I cannot stress how awful it is. He tries to tell people that it’s safer and more comfortable, but he looks awful. It’s a fashion nightmare. No human should be wearing socks and sandals while wading in the water. In all fairness, he’s right, it does keep his feet safe, but does he really need the socks???

He wears clothes in the wrong size almost all the time. You tried to get him clothes in the right size, but he rarely wears them. He wears clothes too large because he says it’s ‘comfy’ but he looks like a slob. He’s so disgusting it hurts. He doesn’t even treat his clothes well because they collect spills and stains as he wears them for multiple days in a row. He’s had someone ask if he needs money for a bus ticket before. It was the one time in his life he realized how other people saw him. He’s since started to try to wear nicer clothing when going out. Around the house though? He looks terrible.

This wouldn’t be so much of an issue if he weren’t such a messy eater. He may look like a slob, but normally he’s very clean and neat in his habits. He cleans dishes immediately after using them, he sweeps and mops regularly, he has good personal hygiene and takes care of himself. He’s a generally clean person. That is until he sits down to eat. It’s awful because he takes bites that are too big and then it’ll fall out of his mouth and onto his shirt. He’ll then suck the stain to ‘get it out’ but it just makes things worse. He also uses his shirt as a napkin or towel, depending on the situation. He’ll also make pretty loud sounds when he eats, especially when he’s eating noodles or slurping a smoothie. If you think you’re lucky and these will be rare instances, he has a protein shake every morning and will have a bowl of buttered noodles at least once every other day (usually more).

Along this line, König got in deep shit for not having a white shirt when he was a new recruit. They asked him why he wasn’t wearing a white shirt, and he told them that it was, in fact, the standard issue white shirt. The sergeant pointed at all the other recruits in bleach white shirts, and then back at König’s grey shirt. They got into a huge argument, only for the drill sergeant to pale when he spun König around and read the tag because this grey piece of shit was a white t-shirt all along

König is an excellent cook. Why is this an ick? Because he doesn’t cook. He could, if he tried, but he’s too lazy so he just throws a day-old grilled cheese in the microwave and calls it done. He then has the nerve to complain that he’s hungry when all he’s eaten are old chips and candy bars. The only time he’ll consider cooking is if you ask him to cook or if he’s having company. Otherwise he will eat trash and you cannot stop him. He will, however, once a week or so lay out a full meal. It's beautiful and delicious, but you know he'll be eating leftovers for days, and then go back to a day of only junk food, then he'll finally force himself to cook again.

On the topic of food, König refuses to accept that food can expire. Just straight up. He doesn’t believe in expiry dates. ‘It’s a best by date, not an expiry date’ is his motto and he pays for it. At this point, he has a designated sick bucket because he gives himself food poisoning so often. All the others soldiers can’t believe that he’s fine with the MREs, but you know that when he comes home, he’ll be chowing down on stale bread he found in his fridge with moldy cheese. It’s disgusting and you have to regularly clean his fridge, lest he get sick eating things. He will also fish things out of the trash, so you have to be tactical in how you remove things. It’s a dangerous game.

This is just the tip of the iceberg of my König ick list. I’m telling you all that this man is a gremlin, and we love him for it. Part of the joy of dating König is dealing with his icks and suffering.

[chishiyaisasnack]

Dare, part 7

Part 6

Hello again! Long time no see. My writers block is still in full effect. Anyway, here’s a little fun one. It’s not very smutty but that was all I could muster this time. I do have bigger plans for the next chapter, and hopefully it won’t take me 6 months to finish it.

Disclaimer! This is (light) smut. Minors and those of you who don’t like the topic, please stay away.

It’s written and posted on mobile so I apologize for any wierd formatting.

How did you end up in a cleaning closet in the meeting room that all the executives were going to gather in, in approximately three minutes? And how did Chishiya end up in it with you? Those were some of the questions that were buzzing through your mind as of this very moment.

”I did not agree to this,” you scolded him, not sure what you did agree to, to be honest. The tiny room was filled with things such as vacuum cleaners (covered in dust, what an irony), mops, drawers and buckets stacked on top of eachother on said drawers - all lit by a dank, yellow lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. For such a nice hotel, this cleaning and supply closet had been severely neglected.

”You said that you would help me clean, remember?” Chishiya shot back at you, his back turned against you as he rummaged through some cabinet filled with different types of detergents and cleaning products.

”This isn’t cleaning though, is it?” No matter how many taps with your foot on the wooden floor, annoyed sighs you made or ”hurry up” coming from your mouth, Chishiya still wasn’t done when you heard the entrance door to the meeting room open. The air was filled with voices, becoming clearer after each person that entered the room. You were out of time, if you wanted to get out of here you had to go now. One last look - okay, glare - at Chishiya, who had stopped his rummaging and were putting something in the pocket of his hoodie before him turning around to face you, and you were ready to leave all this dust behind you (Chishiya included).

”You are just going through stuff in drawers,” you hissed at him, only making him smirk. ”That is not cleaning.”

In the background, chairs started scratching against the floor as the excecutives started to sit down. They were right outside the door now and you could hear every word they were saying.

”I guess Chishiya won’t grace us with his presence today,” the Hatter exclaimed loudly in the joined room, followed by a sigh that was probably heard across all of Tokyo. ”I guess we’ll start the meeting without him.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest as the stress of getting the hell out of there was pouring over you. They were going to hear you, they were going to think that you were listening in on them. Or worst of all - they would try to make you join them. Hell no, you were getting out of the damn closet.

”Okay I’m leav-”

Chishiya slapped a hand over your mouth before you even had a chance to turn away from him, and grinned back at your horrified expression. What the hell was he doing?

Your eyes were shooting daggers into Chishiya’s dark orbs, silently telling him to let you leave the closet before they started the meeting and said something that you didn’t want to hear. You were not going to be an accomplice to whatever scheme they were making. There was a reason why you refused to be in that group of idiots. Standing up straight, you took a quick breath and reached for the door handle, just to be grabbed by Chishiya’s hand and dragged further back into the closet.

”If you leave now they’ll force you to join in,” he whispered, so amused by the situation that you wanted to kick him in the shin.

”If I don’t leave now they’ll think I’ve been listening behind their backs,” you hissed as low as you could while pulling your arm out of his grip.

”Are we starting this or not?” Niragis irritated - make that irritating - voice broke the stare off between the two of you and you made another leap for the door. Just to once again be stopped by the man next to you, who this time decided to force you out of his way and block the door with his body. God damn it.

”Fine,” you muttered. ”I���m not listening to them though,”

Chishiya smirked and watched as you took a few steps further back into the small room. You thought that the further in you were the less they would be able to hear you when you eventually would cuss Chishiya out for whatever he would do next. What he did do next was not a scenario you had expected.

”This might take a while,” he whispered, following you like a shadow. ”We should do something to pass the time.”

Reaching the end of the closet, now fully turned towards him again, confusion took over your annoyance for a second. What did he mean with ”something to pass the time”?

Before you could utter even a ”huh”, Chishiya had gotten closer, now so close that you could feel his body against yours. His hoodie was soft against your skin when he took one last step and was now flushed against you. Soft lips and pointy hair tickled the side of your neck as he spoke again.

”I dare you to not make a single noise before those people leave the room,” he said, his voice barely a whisper aganist your ear but still so loud that every nerve in your body turned to life. Slender fingers ghosted over you arm, from your fingers to your elbow, then back down again before running them along the bottom of your shirt, teasing them along your stomach. Oh, that bastard.

Still, you couldn’t deny how good he was at getting you going. Your breath had already sped up, your hands clenched onto the sides of his hoodie and that tingling feeling between your legs was already there. You barely registered that his hand had moved further down and was now playing with the waistband of your shorts, successfully popping the button open before reality finally hit your lust clouded mind and snapped your eyes open. When did you even close them? Moving your head back so that you could look at him, you shot daggers into his eyes, seemingly making him even more amused than he already was.

”What the fuck are you doing?!” you mimed at him, but that only made his grin wider and his hand snake it’s way down your pants faster.

You wanted to stop him, but you also wanted him to continue and get into your panties already. Conflicting feelings, but you knew that the latter was the one that was going to win. Pissed at yourself for giving up your pride so easily, you spread your legs a little to give him better access. Chishiya was so happy with himself right now, you could feel it in the way that he wiggled his hand under the waistband of your underwear and gently stroked over the skin above your center, taking an extra second to linger there just to tease you just that tiny bit more before finally moving further down.

A warm finger slid over your outer folds, treathening you enter at any second but still taking its sweet time. You dug your nails down into Chishiya’s arm to try to ground yourself while you were waiting for him to stop toying with you and touch you properly, but as usual he had other ideas. You could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed them against your neck, right below your ear, dragging out a soft sigh from your throat.

”Shh, they’ll hear you,” he whispered softly before pressing his lips down again. A light dab from his finger reached your clit, and even though it was barely a touch it sent a jolt through your body. Smirking at your response, Chishiya finally started to move his finger - unfortunately it seemed that he had lost all memories of how to do it properly. You knew that he was having fun messing with you by the way his finger just happend to miss your clit while drawing circles around it. If you didn’t know better you would think that this was his first time ever touching a vagina. You rocked your hips in frustration, trying to get him to stop his teasing, and with a silent, snickering, huff of air against your ear he stopped playing and started stroking you just the way you needed him to. Slow, calculated motions that sent electricity through your body. He knew exactly how much pressure you wanted, what speed you needed, and he gave it all to you.

”Feel good?” Chishiyas words were barely there, so soft and quiet that you almost thought that you imagined them. A tiny nod was all you could give him, your face now buried in the hoodie on his shoulder to make sure to keep quiet, and to muffle any possible noise you unthinkingly made. You would not lose this time, you refused.

The voices outside were long gone from your mind. Even if they were there, your ears had blocked them out and replaced them with the sound of your own heartbeat mixed with Chishiya’s breathing. It was almost as fast as your own, flowing next to you like a calming white noise. That, blended with the smell of him clouded your mind and let you enjoy the warmth that his fingers quickening pace was giving you. It felt good. So good.

It didn’t take long for you to feel it, the tightening in your belly, the fire heating up your body, the bliss that was going to spill over. You dug your nails down a bit harder, earning more pressure from his finger, driving you closer and closer and-

*SLAM*

Both you and Chishiya froze, teeth clenched to not make any sudden noise and give away your position.

”Let’s just fucking kill them off then!” Niragis voice echoed through the room, merely a few meters from where you and Chishiya was fixed in place. His hand was still between your legs but he had stopped moving it in preparation of getting caught. Slowly, you lifted your head up from his neck and stared at him, trying to find any help with how to react, but Chishiyas eyes were excited. How was he always so calm during situations like this? One noise and you’d both be busted, and yet here he was, with that stupid smirk while waiting for what would happen next.

Seconds felt like hours as you both stood there in complete silence, waiting for Niragi to walk away from the door seperating the group from the two of you. Your heart was racing and beads of sweat were starting to form on your neck as you held your breath. Fuck, what if he tried opening the door? What if he slammed his gun into it instead of the wall and accidentally broke it open? Just to see you standing there with Chishiyas hand inbetween your legs. There was no bullshitting your way out of that. You would have to live with the constant harassment of the beach making fun of -

The finger pressing down on your clit abruptly interrupted your thoughs and you couldn’t help but to almost squeal in suprise. Thankfully you were clenching your teeth hard enough to not let it slip out, but Chishiya’s face was amused nontheless.

Thankfully Niragi decided to head back to the table and leave the door alone without any further slamming on walls. As soon as you heard the footsteps become lighter you let your head fall back onto Chishiya’s shoulder, choosing to ignore the excited expression that was plastered all over his face. If you didn’t know better you would think he was trying to get caught. You barely had time to let go of the breath you had been holding in, before his fingers returned with full force and pushed your body right back to where he had left you - on fire and with that tight knot in your belly that was so close to unravelling.

”Hmm…” he hummed happily into your ear, fingers not relenting. ”It feels like you enjoy almost being caught.”

”Shut… up…” you tried to mouth back at him, but as soon as your mouth opened his fingers found their way to your entry. Inch by agonizing inch two of his fingers sank deeper until he started to rythmically move them, stroking your walls with ease from how wet you were. He let the palm of his hand rub against your clit while his fingers rubbed your sweet spot over and over again, guiding you to the orgasm your body had been holding in.

You came with a huff of air, muffled by the white fabric that you were desperately clinging on to. Chishiya continued to pleasure you through your climax, softer and slower but still enough to drag out every possible second of bliss. When you were finally coming down from your high you raised your head back up and took a deep breath, which you almost choked on when you heard the chairs in the room outside all slide over the floor at the same time.

”Okay, the first one to see Chishiya will tell him to come and see me,” the Hatter loudly ordered the crowd, clearly bothered that he would have to repeat the meeting to the man who had heard it all, but ignored it to play games with you. His voice was followed by footsteps, and just like that the room was empty again.

”Good job,” Chishiya smugly whispered before removing his hand from your panties, to then nonchalantly wipe his fingers on his own swim shorts. Your eyes followed the way they curled into the fabric, swirling around on there to dry off any traces of you before heading out. You crinkled your nose at it and hoped that he would wash them as soon as he got back to his room - but then realisation hit you like a brick.

”How are you not hard?” The slight squeak in your voice turned his attention towards you once again. The front of his shorts were flat as a pancake and his hoodie wasn’t even covering up that particular area.

”Why do you ask?” Chishiyas was enjoying your suffering and shame, no doubt about it. ”Do you want to get me off too?”

He swung his hips back and forth, mocking you.

”No thanks,” you retaliated, sour that he was able to keep such control of his body while you had just let him finger you in a dusty closet with people outside. You decided to change the topic. ”So what do I get for winning?”

”You get the honour of washing my shorts later.”

[itsclydebitches]

Emotions.exe

Mensah had gotten halfway through the wall's blood spatter when Arada appeared, hollow-eyed and shaking a bit, like the environmental controls were down. Her hands were steady enough on the mop though. Minutes later Pin-Lee followed. They took up the bucket, turned as if to leave the habitat and dump it, then set it right back down, staring into the red depths. "So," they said. "We going to talk about it?" "You mean SecUnit?" Ratthi asked. "No, you idiot, I mean the fact that SecUnit blew up a woman's head!" Or: The aftermath of a murder.

First Murderbot fic! 🎉 You can read it below the cut or on AO3.

Mensah wound up cleaning Leebeebee's blood off the habitat wall.

Despite surviving an explosion she was in the best shape out of the team, physically and emotionally speaking. Plus, what use was she as the leader if she didn't volunteer for the tough jobs? Being the 'Captain,' as SecUnit had inexplicably called her, was more than just daring rescue missions and (failed) attempts at contacting the company. A true leader was willing to get their hands dirty. Literally. With blood and brains.

The thought was so absurd Mensah found herself giggling. Hysterical? Maybe. Probably. But at least she was keeping her lunch this time around. Amazing, how quickly humans adapted to new situations. After slicing open SecUnit's spinal column and dismantling it for parts, mopping up bits of a would-be murderer's brains wasn't so bad. She hadn't even liked Leebeebee before the almost-murdering thing.

She shot Gurathin, Mensah thought and dumped the rag back into the bucket with more force than was strictly necessary.

"You cleaning that, or…?"

Ratthi suddenly stood in the doorway, staring at the swaths of bloody water that now ran across the floor. Mensah sighed.

"More like making a mess of things, as usual." She pinched the bridge of her nose, noticed that there was something… organic sticking to her fingers, and promptly swallowed down a scream. "How's Gurathin?" Her voice came out strangled.

"Fine, fine. I mean, not fine, obviously, but his life isn't in danger. Anymore, I guess. And he's complaining a lot. Which is weirdly… comforting?"

The ghost of a smile slipped onto Mensah's face. Yeah. That was comforting.

"Also, no way in hell I'm letting you clean that alone. Gimme."

She didn't have the energy to resist Ratthi's hyper insistence, so she merely handed him another rag and nodded towards the upholstery. It was a bit horrifying, really, just how quickly one could get used to the traumatizing and the macabre. One week Mensah had been surveying a hellishly boring planet in the vain hope of inducing some life into their economy, the next she was mopping up bits of skull and spinal column, pretending it was just another mess her kids had made. Funny, that.

"You okay?" Ratthi asked, side-eyeing her as another giggle escaped.

"No. Not in the least."

"Ah. Well, love the honesty!"

She'd gotten halfway through the wall's blood spatter when Arada appeared, hollow-eyed and shaking a bit, like the environmental controls were down. Her hands were steady enough on the mop though. Minutes later Pin-Lee followed. They took up the bucket, turned as if to leave the habitat and dump it, then set it right back down, staring into the red depths.

"So," they said. "We going to talk about it?"

"You mean SecUnit?" Ratthi asked.

"No, you idiot, I mean the fact that SecUnit blew up a woman's head!"

"Okay, sorry! It gets a little confusing with the pronouns!"

"…Oh. Yeah, I see how that wasn't clear. Sorry. But," Pin-Lee help up a finger. Like Arada's it shook slightly. "Gurathin was completely fucking right—"

"Wait, wait. I love the guy, but Gurathin is never completely right."

"Oh shut up, Ratthi." Gurathin's voice suddenly came over the Hub. The system crackled faintly, but there was something else off about his tone.

Mensah's eyes narrowed. "Gurathin? You're awake? How are you feeling?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

There was another burst of static, what might have been a struggle, and then Bharadwaj's voice flowed through. "He's high as a kite on pain meds."

"Ah."

"I'm fine."

"You're humming."

Sure enough, there was a faint tune flowing through the HubSystem, rising and falling in between Gurathin's speech. Mensah didn't recognize the song, but it felt familiar; like an old childhood tune embedded deep in her consciousness, inducing nostalgia, but irretrievable as concrete data.

Shit, she thought, swaying just a little. Now I'm starting to sound like SecUnit.

…. Is that bad?

Ratthi had placed both hands over his heart, looking for all the world like his birthday had come early. Pin-Lee made shooing motions towards him like they could scoot the good feeling right out of the room.

"Great, Gurathin had that stick medically pulled out of his ass, huzzah! Now can we please talk about the dangerous killing machine lurking in the next room and what we're going to do about it?"

"Why should we do anything?" For the first time Arada spoke. She dropped the mop, wiped her hands one-two-three-four times against her pants, then approached Pin-Lee as a keeper would some skittish animal. When no growl or bite came she took Pin-Lee's hands in her own and Mensah could see how hard that grip was, her knuckles bleached white. "Babe. We're as dangerous as it is."

"… What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're upset that SecUnit killed a person today? We killed a person yesterday." Mensah felt a shiver go down her spine at the grim smile that crossed Arada's face. "If SecUnits are people—and I think at this point we can all agree they are—then we picked up a person with a Hopper and smashed it against the ground until it stopped moving." Her grip tightened even further. "That SecUnit had a face, hun. A personality too, though it probably never got to show it because it was still a fucking slave to the company that made it. You hearing me? We picked up a slave and gleefully crushed its body because it dared to threaten our family. I don't regret it. But its death was slow and no doubt horrifically painful. At least our SecUnit killed Leebeebee instantly. At least she had free will."

Pin-Lee seemed to be staring straight though Arada. "Oh. Okay. I think I'm gonna be sick now."

"Do it in the bucket."

They took their wife's advice and Mensah shut her eyes, the truth of that flowing through her. Bad enough to be the victim, but she couldn't stand the thought of her team grappling with being the perpetrators as well. The villains. The monsters.

"It was self-defense," Ratthi said, gripping hard at his hair.

Arada looked over Pin-Lee's shoulder as she continued dry-heaving. "And killing the woman with a gun to Gurathin's head wasn't?"

"Fuck."

"…Subdued." Gurathin's sing-songy voice came over the Hub again. Mensah waited for more and when it didn't come she sent Bharadwaj an inquisitive ping. What she got back was the electronic version of a woman groaning into the palms of her hands.

"Gurathin?" Mensah raised her voice. "What did you mean by 'subdued'?"

There was a long, annoyed sigh and when he spoke again she could really hear the pain meds at work. His voice was slow and syrupy.

"Its status," Gurathin muttered, sounding half asleep. "I was hooked into the system and stupid SecUnit joined when it landed so…" Mensah couldn't see him, but she could easily picture the dismissive wave Gurathin gave with his hand. He'd briefly been connected to SecUnit then, mutually through the Hub. "Its status report said 'Subdued.' 'Target Subdued.' But she wasn't. Subdued is to overcome. To bring under control. It doesn't mean kill."

That… wasn't a bad point, actually. They'd all seen how quickly SecUnit had moved against Gurathin. Mensah had been staring right at it, supposedly immobile on the table, and then poof. Gone. Across the room with a hand around her teammate's throat. If it could move faster than the human mind could process input, surely SecUnit could have grabbed the gun from Leebeebee without her realizing? Or shot her arm, even the gun itself, with that impeccable accuracy? Something, anything other than shooting her bloody head off.

"SecUnit wasn't functioning at full capacity," Mensah found herself saying. Even to her own ears the excuse sounded like just that: an excuse. But true too. "It was damaged in the explosion and I had to… dismantle part of it in order for us to get back. Maybe it wasn't capable of subduing her? It was damaged."

"Yeah? Or maybe it just likes killing people." Pin-Lee wiped a hand across their mouth, slumping defeated against the couch. "Ah fuck. I don't know."

"Or…" Ratthi paused.

"Or?"

"Or it wasn't incapacitated—not entirely anyway—and it doesn't love blowing peoples' heads up for the hell of it, but a secret third thing." Ratthi spread his arms. "Arada, you said it. You killed that SecUnit because it threatened your family. Well, aren't we kinda sorta maybe becoming our SecUnit's family? Maybe it could have subdued Leebeebee, but that never even occurred to it because she was threatening to kill one of its precious humans, so boom! Instant death for you, bitch girl."

Everyone stared at him. Over the Hub a faint, disbelieving laugh sounded from Gurathin.

"It's not a stray pet!" Pin-Lee yelled at the same time Arada went, "Bitch girl?"

They argued then, as they so often did, about whether SecUnit cared enough to kill for them. If it would have killed for Gurathin ("Think about that, Ratthi"), or if it had just been waiting for an excuse to impose lethal force. They bickered about their own safety, and then agreed that it didn't matter because whatever danger a rogue SecUnit posed, it didn't compare to the forces now hunting them. SecUnit had done its job, gone above and beyond, arguably, by killing itself to keep them safe. Those seemed better odds than striking out on their own, even if the odds still sucked.

"Well now I feel bad," Ratthi said. "I mean, it saves our lives and now we're just gonna keep using it? While doubting it the whole time?"

Pin-Lee was back to waving their hands. "It's a SecUnit, Ratthi. We're supposed to use it! That's why we bought it!"

"Oh c'mon, now you sound like one of those company blowhards. Or Leebeebee. Yes, I said it, and I'm not taking it back! I just mean, if it's a person and it saved us, don't any of you want to… I don't know, thank it?"

There was a long silence at that. Then Gurathin said: "No."

Arada quirked a small smile. "I mean, it would hate that. So if you're looking to do something nice thanking it probably isn't the way to go. Or talking to it. Or… anything."

Ratthi nodded. "Yeah. It's unfortunate that its love language is clearly acts of service and there's not much we can do for a super-powered SecUnit."

Everyone was staring at him again.

"What? Oh c'mon, seriously? You know, love languages? Like—like—Pin-Lee, you're always touching Arada because that's her love language, but you prefer verbal affirmations. You practically glow whenever she validates your feelings, or compliments you on something you're working on."

"…that's actually really insightful," Arada whispered.

"Yeah." Pin-Lee gently traced their hand over Arada's wrist, seeming to look at the action in a new light. "I'm super turned on by him right now."

"Me too."

Ratthi didn't seem to be listening. "There's acts of service," he said, ticking them off on one hand, "but as said, what can we do that a SecUnit can't? Ugh, just realizing now how inferior that makes me feel… but there's also words of affirmation, which it hates. Quality time, which it hates more. Physical touch, which it hates soooo much—"

"Actually…" Mensah hadn't meant to interrupt, but for the first time in two days she was finally able to think back on all the traumatizing shit she'd been through and was surprised when an oddly hilarious memory surfaced. She didn't think SecUnit would appreciate her giving the others a detailed account of its malfunction back at Deltfall, but the gist…

"It was injured," she said to a now captive audience. "Whatever that other SecUnit did to try and control it also made it… well, almost drunk, in a way. Like it had lost all its inhibitions." She'd skip over the moment of sworn fealty and promises to 'defend the ship' while she made her escape, though Mensah knew if the others had seen all that they'd probably feel safer around SecUnit too. "It touched me during that time. A lot."

Mensah rolled her eyes at Gurathin's squawk of indignation.

"Oh don't be disgusting, not like that! It just… held my hand. Touched my shoulders when it was trying to reassure me. It let me help carry it and leaned into me. Like it craved that." Across from her Ratthi was doing a silent, chaotic happy dance. "It doesn't like to be touched, it's made that clear, but I do wonder how much of that is learned behavior. Like… fuck it feels insulting to say it, but maybe 'stray pet' isn't entirely wrong? It does remind me of a dog who flinches because for its entire life touch has meant pain, or has been outright forbidden. But if you were to show the dog that things don't have to be this way…" Mensah shrugged.

Ratthi was practically vibrating now. "So we need to balance giving it new, positive experiences with respecting its newfound autonomy. Ah, that's a tricky business."

Pin-Lee snorted. "So what, Mensah? You want to go in and try giving it a hug?"

"…no."

"Didn't think so."

"But I do think SecUnit deserves something from us. An act of faith, if nothing else." Mensah straightened, attempting to imbue as much authority into her posture as she could. It was hard with blood on her clothes and a shake in her voice, but she still tried. "Until proven otherwise, I am going to work under the assumption that SecUnit has our best interests at heart. I know keeping it around currently aligns with our best interests, but even if it didn't, I still think SecUnit has earned that level of trust. So I'm choosing to give that. I would recommend you do the same. But it's only that, a recommendation. I don't think this is something we can come to consensus on just yet." She paused there, letting the words sink in. "As for love languages… how about we just take things slow? Maybe let SecUnit tell us what it needs and when it needs it."

"Sure, sure," Ratthi held up his hands. "You know, you're absolutely right. Kind of rude of us not to ask its thoughts on all this."

That drugged, breathy laugh sounded over the Hub again. Gurathin was so far gone for a moment they couldn't understand him. They heard some whispering from Bharadwaj before the laughs tapered off into snickers.

"I love you idiots," he said, causing some raised eyebrows all around. "Do you really think SecUnit hasn't been listening this whole time?"

…Right. Fuck.

With a defeated sigh Mensah picked up her rag and got back to work. There was still a lot of blood to clean.

*

Four hours later they'd settled back into something like normalcy. Yes, someone was hunting them, but the sad reality was there was little they could do about that right now. Arada had insisted they leave as soon as possible… up until Bharadwaj pointed out that there was nowhere to go. They had no way of contacting anyone off planet and the planet itself was beset with strange artifacts and deadly fauna, neither of which were accurately represented on their maps. Mensah had thought back to her conversation with SecUnit in the Hopper, about how frustrating it must be to guard a species governed more by emotion than common-sense, and finally told everyone to stay put. The safest place was at SecUnit's side and it, thanks to her, needed the habitat to repair itself.

Mensah told herself she was just checking on it as a security precaution. The sooner it was fixed the sooner they could come up with a plan and get out of here. She wasn't worried about it, or anything.

Oh of course you are. Just don't tell the bloody unit that. Likely to give the thing a heart attack that way.

Like her 'heart attack' on the Hopper. Remembering SecUnit singing the Sanctuary theme song brought a true smile to her face. It was the first in a while.

"Come in, Dr. Mensah."

She hadn't even needed to knock. Poking her head into the security bay she was relieved to see that SecUnit was out of its repair station and had settled into a corner of the room, curled beneath a blanket. Everything about its posture screamed vulnerability and no matter how much Mensah reminded herself that this was an inhuman killing machine, the reality before her took precedent. If SecUnit had been one of her children she would have absolutely marched up and given it a hug. If it was a colleague she would have sat beside it, encouraging conversation so that they might share some of the day's burdens. Hell, if it was human she would have insisted that it at least take one of the bunks rather than curling up on the floor like…

Like a dog, she thought. When was she helping it come into its personhood and when was she ignoring its unique needs? SecUnit had already reminded her that it wasn't human and could weather so much more than their fragile bodies—and perhaps fragile psyches—ever could… right before it crashed face-first into the floor. Maybe it was just human arrogance, but Mensah couldn't help but think that just because SecUnit could function without so much of what they took for granted didn't mean it should.

It wasn't looking at her—no surprise—but the avoidance felt pointed this time. Like SecUnit could read everything going on in her head and was determined to ignore it.

Mensah huffed out a laugh. That's probably its most human trait of all.

"I take it you heard?" she said, getting straight to the point in a way that made it flinch. "Our conversation earlier?"

"Yes."

"And you don't want to talk about—"

"No."

"No. No, of course not. Alright then. You don't have to talk, but indulge me for just a moment." Mensah watched as SecUnit's hands tightened around the blanket (like Arada's over Pin-Lee's), but she didn't back down. This felt like something it needed to hear, even if it hated it.

"I want you to know three things, okay? One: I meant everything I said about trusting you. I hope to god nothing changes that makes me regret that decision, but for now? You're a member of the team. Better get used to it." She cracked another smile at the pained look that crossed its face. "Two: we're staying here for now. We can discuss particulars in the morning and I still value your expertise in security if you disagree, but I just can't see the use of traipsing about a deadly planet with no destination in mind." Mensah felt a surge of pride when SecUnit nodded, seemingly in agreement. "And three: well, this is from Ratthi. He wanted me to say that we've cleaned up the mess and… Leebeebee. We figured you wouldn't want to do that when you got up so, it's done. She's buried out in our garden. I won't be eating any more of those potatoes, but Bharadwaj insisted she have a proper burial. Plus, now she's actually doing some good. Sort of." Mensah trailed off awkwardly, half-hoping SecUnit would continue the one-sided conversation. No such luck. It stared at the wall, unblinking, until Mensah felt sweat pooling in the center of her back.

"Right. That's all. I'll just leave you to it then. Goodnight."

"…You're wrong."

Its voice came right when she was about to close the door, softer than a whisper. Mensah paused, wondering if she'd imagined it. She didn't dare turn back around, sure that looking at SecUnit would scare it off.

"Wrong about what?" she whispered back.

"I liked killing that woman. I enjoyed it."

Those words should have sent Mensah running for the hills. Two days ago they probably would have. Now though, she felt only an immense sense of relief rush through her, so strong she leaned her head against the doorway.

"You know, SecUnit," she said, relying on its enhanced hearing to pick up her words. "I liked you killing that woman too. She was vile, possibly evil. She threatened so much that I hold dear and she shot Gurathin. So yes, I'm glad she's dead. Does that make me a monster? Dangerous? I don't know. But you're not alone in that feeling. I enjoyed you killing her a whole fucking lot."

Mensah listened to her own harsh breathing. There was no other sound between them. SecUnit didn't need to breathe, it didn't shift, and the hum of its repair unit had long fallen silent. It could have killed her from behind without her ever realizing, but all Mensah could think was that if it did, she probably deserved it.

There was no violence. Only a halting, humbling, "Okay."

Mensah nodded and crossed the threshold, allowing the door to slip closed behind her. Okay, then.

Okay.

[alicechess]

Yandere unknown x reader (part 2)

Note: Please ignore how long it took me to update, I have very valid excuses I promise. (I don't)

Second note: Will be editing this as there's some plot issues, will make another edit when it has been fixed :)

Third edit: I fixed and edited some things, if there's any issues please let me know! I hope you enjoy it.

--------

It was difficult for you, the next afternoon. The freezing air in the bedroom made it more uncomfortable, the thought of having to go back once again caused bile to rise in your throat. At this point the sensation was becoming less uncomfortable. You were sick of feeling anxious, whether it be because of that.... Thing or the weird happenings of this town. 

The air felt like it was slowly freezing every cell in your body. It was difficult attempting to gain the motivation to get out of bed. But you knew you had to look after the wounds, otherwise they'd get infected.

You forced yourself out of bed, knowing you had to get money somehow. You got into the shower, cleaned the wounds on your body, the burning forced out a hiss. You didn't bother to cover it, to you it was good enough. None of them were deep enough for stitches, so they should be fine. You grabbed a switchblade from on top of your drawers, so you could prepare for tonight. Although you hoped you wouldn't need to use it.

You pulled the chairs away from the door, then went outside. You had to take public transport to get to your work. You didn't look forward to it, not at all, you felt nauseous, but knew you had to push it aside. You started walking to the bus stop, then pulled out your phone and decided to first dial the car dealer, and how to get new keys for your car. They'd need to get some paperwork from you and then it should be done in a few days. Then, after a few minutes, you called a locksmith to change the locks. The soonest they could do was tomorrow.

Once the bus arrived, you hopped on. You smiled at the bus driver, then used your card to pay for the ride. You sat down, there were only a few people on the bus. You put some music on, watching as the bus started to move. You continued looking out, thoughts raging through your mind. If something happened tonight, you’d leave. You knew you couldn't risk your life over money. You knew you had to change your outlook on things. Was it all worth it when there were other ways to deal with the situation?

After 10 minutes, the bus slowly stopped near the theatre. You stood up then hopping out, thanking the driver. You walked over to the front of the building, staring at the handle. Your hand shook slightly as you rested your hand on the handle, then slowly twisted it. The smell of popcorn immediately made you hungry.

Your co-worker greeted you, "You look like a train wreck, you good?" 

You rolled your eyes, "Aren't you lovely?"

"I know," They chuckled, however genuine concern quickly replaced their previous demeanour. "Seriously though, you okay?"

You shrugged, "I think the night shifts are really fucking with me, I need to switch hours."

"Yeah, well long shifts that last late at night aren't exactly great. It makes sense that it's taking a toll on you. Maybe talk to our boss?"

"Maybe, I'll see how I feel after this shift."

---

You stood there for hours, giving people their snacks, drinks and tickets. It wasn’t too awful, your legs got sore, and the wounds burned, but thankfully none reopened. You were wearing a black top, so even if they did at least no one would notice

Once the place closed, and everyone left you emailed your bus, then did your work again. You went to the closet and picked out the mop bucket, then filled it with hot water. You remembered you had to vacuum too, so you pulled that out in plugged it into the wall. As you stepped into the movie room, you groaned. Unfortunately, people weren’t as respectful today, leaving popcorn on the floor and occasional spilt drinks. You shook your head, agitated. With all the disappearances, surely people would think that maybe the cleaner wouldn’t want to stay overtime? Actually, they probably just didn’t care. That seems more likely. Or their stupid brains didn’t make the connection. Whatever, if  you didn’t die tonight at least you’d get decent pay. 

This place was so eerie, the stereotypical creaking of the wood panels, the trees creating monstrous shadows. You chuckled, thinking of the multiple horror movies and stories that this reminded you of. A grim smile formed on your face, ‘maybe I could watch some of those cheesy movies when I have time.’ Although finding it amusing, you didn’t want to think about it too much. You placed your headphones on, then played some music. You sang some of the lyrics lowly, as not wanting any passers-by to think you were insane, although, who would be out this late anyway? 

You knelt down with a cloth and scrubbed the floor since the mop wasn’t doing good enough. You had a feeling you’d have to scrub a large chunk of this big room. After 10 minutes, you took your gloves off, then leaned against one of the chairs, placing your hands on them, you wiped the sweat that built up on your forehead. You were afraid, but you had to do your job. Money was everything in society. To eat, to sleep safely, to have shelter.

You knew it was here. You tried to ignore the feeling, the knowing. 

You gritted your teeth and went back down and continued scrubbing. Occasionally, you felt as though it was behind you. The cold, it felt so cold. The hair on your back and neck stuck up, but you continued. You’ve checked multiple times before, and yet nothing was there.  

You weren’t overthinking, you were just being cautious. You were confident in that fact. 

A stench filled the room, a sour mud-like smell. You glanced around, your eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “What the fuck...?” You muttered, trying to think of how that came through. You took your headphones off, hearing rain pounding against the roof. “Maybe I left one of the windows open?” 

You stood up, and walked out of the theatre room, grabbing the switchblade from your boot. You opened it, then went into entrance, and sore the window was open, but the screen was still there. I should’ve closed that earlier, why didn’t I check the weather. You thought, irritated at yourself.

You closed the window and locked it, then checked upstairs. Gripping the blade in your hand, you opened the door. Your eyes water from the stench. You coughed, trying not to heave at the putrid smell. You walked over towards the bathroom window, noticing the screen was cut open. "What..." You stuttered out, gripping the blade harder. You shook your head, then pushed open each stall. They were all empty. 

You stood there, thinking for a moment on what to do. It's in here with me. You shuddered, goosebumps forming. You thought over everything you've done here, vacuumed, mopped most of the theatre, scrubbed most of the stains.... What else do I need to do? I need to mop in here, but surely it can wait till tomorrow, right?

A loud thud came from downstairs, causing you to jump, hitting the stall behind you. Your stomach lurched, that sick feeling pulling at your throat. Shit

You knew it heard you, you didn't know how well it can hear, but you knew it did, as you heard scuttering from bellow. Pat pat pat pat pat.

Your hands were sweaty, making it difficult to open the blade. Once you did, you sprinted out of the room, into the office. You knew your boss would be mad if he knew, but you didn't care. You attempted to open the door, of which would lead to stairs outside. But the door wouldn't budge. You attempted to be quiet while pulling at the door. Your heart thudded in your chest, pools of sweat forming on your face. "please please please please..." You whispered, becoming more antsy.

Pit pat pit pat pit pat

You heard its footsteps coming up the stairs, you ran behind the desk, ducking underneath. You curled up, hugging your knees. You wish you could've stopped your heart from beating so heavily, it felt so loud in the silent office. The only other thing which was heard were the droplets of rain hitting the window and roof. You could hear the blood pumping throughout your body. You covered your mouth, trying to breath quietly. 

Pit pat pit pat

It's body crackled as it came closer, "You don't need to hide from me." 

It sounded the same as the night before, the two voices combining as one. It was so distorted and.... just wrong.

I don't trust you, I don't even know what the fuck you are! 

You gritted your teeth, the handle from the blade dug into your hand as you held it too tight, preparing for it to come closer.

The silence lasted a few moments, till you heard the pit pat once more

Once its step became quieter, you slowly crawled out from under the desk. You took a few steps out of the room, planning to bolt out. 

You, however, noticed a purple gas forming in the building. The stench became so prominent, so invasive, you covered your mouth, attempting to stop yourself from vomiting. One, because you couldn't risk your boss thinking you didn't clean, the other, you didn't want to alert that thing. Although you covered your nose and mouth with the sleeve of your jacket, you still smelt the purple gas. You went to step down the stairs, but weakness overcame you. Oh shit, oh shit!

You needed to cough so bad, but you knew you couldn't. Your throat was so itchy, your eyes watered as the gas burned them. The air was thickening as the gas made things blurry. You forced yourself to stand up, then slowly made your way down. You held onto the wooden railing, making sure not to give in, although your legs felt as though it was becoming jelly once again. 

You took a deep breathe then headed down, paying attention to that awful, bone crackling sound a few rooms away. You finally gave into the urge to sprint. You burst the front door open, running to your car. However, just as you were about to reach it, you felt something gripping your legs, pulling you down onto the ground. Your body making a loud thud, forcing all the air out of your lungs. You yelped, trying to yank your leg out of its grip. You looked over your shoulder, looking into it's monstrous face.

As it spoke, it almost sounded human. It's voice was masculine, but almost like it had a second, feminine one flowing with it. "Tsk tsk." It said, as its neck snapped back in an inhuman manner, "Attempting so hard to avoid me... For such a supposedly smart being, you acted quite impulsively and... recklessly."

You were too mortified to speak, your eyes frantically analysing its horrifying and monstrous figure. You could smell the fresh and dried blood off the figure.

"Amused, horrified. Your heart is beating rapidly in your chest... Your lungs are inflating and deflating at a fast rate. Frightening, aren't I?" It drawled on, it's neck crackling and twitching as it moved towards you. The two voices sounding oddly smooth compared to the night before.

Its face... You could feel it's empty eye-sockets staring through you. It could read every emotion, every feeling from you. You felt violated from it's stare, only because it knew you. It felt as though it knew more about you then... you. The feeling couldn't be truly put into words. All you knew, is that it was a being beyond your comprehension.

That it shouldn't exist.

It talked, once more, as it flipped you over, forcing you to look into it's face. It held down your arms before you could use your knife. You hissed from the pressure. It got closer to you, and then it spoke.

"No one will hurt you, no one but me." In that moment, you saw slimy, purple tentacles rising from behind it. The slime fell onto the ground next to you.

As a last resort, you threw your head back as much as you could, hitting the asphalt, then smashed your forehead against his. It stopped for a moment, hissing and it's tentacles retreated slightly for a moment. It's grip lightened slightly, just enough for you to be able to pull your arm out of his hand, then you raised the knife and stabbed it in the head.

"Don't fucking touch me again."

The creature cracked as it moved around. It didn't scream... Only groaned.

"Such an amusing thing you are..." It muttered. It then yanked out the knife. No blood came out from the wound.

Before anything else could happen, you heard a car drive slowly by. Seeing the commotion, it started to pull into the parking lot. "HELP! HELP ME PLEASE." You screamed out.

The creature looked between you and the car. "So... unfortunate."

It then stood up, taking one more glance at you, then ran into the trees. You shook rapidly, staring at it's horrifying form until it left your view. The police officer walked towards you, with their flashlight out pointing at your horrified form.

"Hey, hey, you okay?!" The woman asked, crouching towards you. "What happened? What did that man do to you!? Are you hurt?" She asked, looking over you for any visible wounds. You tried to muster something up in response, but all that came out was "That.... thing, isn't a man." You couldn't look her in the eye's while you spoke, your voice trembling. What else could you say?

The office stayed silent for a moment, trying to understand what you just said. "What do you mean by that? And you didn't answer if you were hurt."

You shook your head, hugging your knees, "It... it doesn't matter, I'm fine." You murmured, staring at the ground in front of you. You couldn't look her in the eyes. All you could think of was its soulless, empty eye sockets. The feeling of it knowing, reading you in ways that you didn't like.

"Look, I can't help you unless you talk to me. Please, what did he do to you?" She pleaded, wanting to reach out but stopping herself.

"I promise I'm okay. I mean, if you really want to help me get me a damn priest." You dryly chuckled, gaze sticking to the asphalt. Normally you wouldn't joke with an officer, but in that moment, you wanted to not break down, as a trip to the mental ward didn't sound pleasant

"Please take this seriously! What if he hurts someone else?" She begged, a look of confusion and worry written on her face.

"As if we can stop it, thank you for coming over, though. You saved me, genuinely." You said, finally looking her in the eyes, trying to give a small smile. You stood up then lent against your car from last night. "I really wanna go home, I just want to sleep."

"I think I should call an ambulance, you could be hurt. Did he hit your head at all?"

"No! No, don't worry about it. I'm fine, I think I'm just sleep deprived that's all." You shook your head, trying to politely wave her off.

The woman looked at you suspiciously, then sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Alright, fine. Look can I give you the number to the police station? In case you want to report it. Please?"

You thought for a few moments, then gave in. "Yeah.... sure." 

She pulled out her notepad and pen, then wrote it down. "Here, I wrote my name down as well in case you want to talk to me there. Please, think about it."

"Okay, I will." She then passed you the piece of paper. You folded it and put it in your pocket. "I'm gonna go now, thank you."

The woman nodded, "Do you want me to follow you home? If it'd make you feel safer."

The thought didn't seem utterly awful, so you gave in. "Um, actually... I lost my keys last night. Could... you take me home?." you glanced at the floor with mild embarrassment.

She nodded, "Not a problem." She then walked towards the car, you followed behind.

She genuinely seemed to be worried, and it was... nice. The car smelt clean, no rubbish at all. There was a scented thing hanging on the mirror in the car. It reminded you of cotton candy. After a few minutes of going down some streets, you reached your house. You pulled into the driveway and hopped out. The woman rolled down her window, "Have a good night! Be careful and take care." 

"Thank you so much, and you too." You said back, waving. Then unlocked your door and went inside. You put the chairs in front of the door, and made sure to lock it. You walked down the hallway and into your room, then went onto the bed. 

You stared blankly in front of you, at the wall, the situation replaying over in your head. The feeling of it on top of you, being seconds away from a brutal death. You felt bile fill up in your throat, you quickly got out of bed, almost tripping from the sheets. You ran out of the room, down the hallway and pulled open the toilet door. You didn't bother closing it as you fell onto your knees and knelt over the toilet. Food from earlier tore at your throat and left your body. The acid burning, causing tears to prick at your eyes. But your body kept going, even when it was just stomach acid, then until your stomach felt almost empty. Vomit was on your chin, so you wiped it off with some toilet paper. You sat there on the cold tiles for a few minutes, trying to gain the motivation to get up and clean yourself. But you were frozen, stuck staring into the hallway, unable to move.

You knew it was nearby. You felt like it always was. You don't know what you did to deserve this. It didn't make sense. 

After a few more minutes, you eventually snapped out of your thoughts. You begrudgingly stood up, using the wall to support you. You flushed the toilet, then slowly walked to the bathroom. You felt light headed and dizzy, but you didn't feel like going to bed with vomit on you. You turned the tap on, got undressed and went inside. You watched as the dirt washed off your body and down the drain. You felt calmer, enjoying the warmth. Then went to bed, savouring the few hours you have left till you have to get up.

--------

After she dropped you off, she went back to the station, something just didn't feel right. The way you talked about the man not being human, it stuck with her. She of course heard of the sightings of a 'creature', but she struggled to believe it. How could a thing like that exist? It defied all logic, to her. She wanted to recheck the footage of her dashcam. She had to know, were you simply mentally ill, telling the truth, or sleep deprived like you said? The only way she could know was to check the footage. 

She downloaded the footage, then opened the file. She skipped through it, then found the incident. She zoomed in as she drove into the parking lot. She saw it. She understood now. What you meant.

What the fuck was that?! 

She saw as purple things came out of the... creatures back. And when she got closer in the parking lot, she saw as it turned towards her, then stood up and run. She saw the horrified look on your face.

What was she meant to do with this footage? Would anyone believe her? She bit her nails, even though they were done only a couple days ago, she couldn't resist the urge. A coworker of hers noticed the look on her face and what she was doing. "Didn't you quit that habit a while ago? What's got you so stressed?" He asked, pulling his chair towards her, then sat down.

"Can you watch this?" She asked, not waiting for an answer. She went back on the footage, then pressed play. He scooted closer, turning the monitor slightly so he could see more. She stared at him, trying to see what he thought. 

She paused and zoomed in on the footage. The man looked afraid, "What is that?!" He muttered under his breathe. She then continued the video, still zoomed in. He watched as the creature ran into the forest, leaving the woman - you, on the ground, mortified. 

Although knowing the officer wasn't a prank type, he had to ask. "You're messing with me, right? Is the edited?-" She interrupted him, "No, it isn't, It's raw unedited footage. I downloaded it a few minutes ago. So you saw what I saw?"

"I did... yes." He answered, "What is it?"

"I don't know, but the woman right there said she saw a monster." She then took off the camera on her vest, then connected it to the PC. "I'm going to show you another recording, of what she said to me." 

The man nodded, resting his chin on his hand, watching as it downloaded. "Are you sure it isn't a glitch or something?" 

The woman shook her head, "Again, once you hear what she says, you might take it more seriously. Hold on." She then opened the file and skimmed through it. "Alright, watch." She turned the volume up. 

"What the..." The woman said, driving into the parking lot.

She hurriedly got out of the car, the footage shaking as she did so. 

"Hey, hey! You okay?!" She asked, running over to the woman on the ground. She crouched in front of her, then asked "What happened? What did that man do to you!? Are you hurt?"

"That.... thing, isn't a man." The woman said, staring at the ground in front of her. They stood there in silence for a few moments.

"What do you mean by that? And you didn't answer if you were hurt." The officer asked, the footage still being a bit shakey. 

The woman hugged her knees, "It... it doesn't matter, I'm fine." 

"Look, I can't help you unless you talk to me. Please, what did he do to you?" 

The woman then responded, "I promise I'm okay. I mean, if you really want to help me get me a damn priest." 

"Please take this seriously! What if he hurts someone else?" The officer begged.

The man continued to watch the footage, stopping as soon as the officer went back into her car.

"Get it now?" She asked, crossing her arms over. 

The main stayed silent for a couple seconds, then spoke "I... don't know. This is some weird shit." 

The officer rolled her eyes, "You're stating the obvious." 

"Well aware, smartass." He sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. "Well, can you talk to the woman again? Maybe if you say you saw the same thing, she'll say more." 

"I might do that tomorrow morning, she seemed extremely worn out and I don't want to bother her."

"I mean, if you're okay with waiting that long go ahead."

The officer glared, "Fine you go talk to her instead." 

"Okay okay, that's not what I meant. I mean it seems serious, could this be connected to the other missing people? Like maybe she could go missing in the middle of the night!" 

"I'm sure she'll be fine over night, and I'm going to have to put all the videos onto the laptop. I also need sleep, you know? And I don't want to bother her too much, I want her to hopefully have a few hours of sleep before I explain this whole thing to her."

"Okay, well can you let me know how it goes after?"

"Yeah I will, can you keep this between us for now? I don't know how the others will react if they see this. I also don't want them to probably think I'm crazy."

"Fair enough, alright I'm gonna head off." He said. standing up, "You rest up too, yeah?" 

The officer nodded, "I will, probably only 6 hours but it's something."

"Isn't that what you get most days?"

"Shut up." She said jokingly hitting his arm, "Alright, catch you tomorrow." She said, also packing her stuff.

--------

[coopigeoncoo]

Meat Cute, Chapter 10

Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 10 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!

---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

The days following the garden party were laced with uncertainty, not knowing when you might see Alastor again or what he might ask of you next.  He didn't seem like the brutish sort that would force more… intimate affections onto someone, but the powerlessness of your situation often sent your mind spiraling off to imagine the worst possible scenarios you could potentially be subjected to.  

Dorcas, sweet thing that she was, took it upon herself to become increasingly offended on your behalf with every day that passed without word from the Radio Demon.  

“Who does he think he is,” she sniffed irritably as she scrubbed at a particularly stubborn blood stain with a wire brush.  “Acting like a genuine suitor and then just up and disappearing on you like a puff of smoke.”

“Likely he thinks himself to be an Overlord,” you reminded her firmly, aware that some of the people in line spent more time gossiping than breathing.  

“Well, yeah.  But that's no excuse to ignore good etiquette!”

“I think it's an excuse to do pretty much whatever he wants, actually.”

“I still think it's rude,” Dorcas huffed, throwing her brush into the cleaning bucket in frustration.  

You hummed noncommittally, trying to ignore how your heart raced every time the bell above the door rang, and how disappointed you were when it never heralded the arrival you were so anxiously anticipating.

It never ceased to amaze you how, with a job that routinely had you scooping out brains like ice cream, the worst task of your day was somehow always mopping.  

Repeatedly hauling and dumping around the huge pail of water was utterly exhausting, and eventually your arms got so shaky you'd end up spilling a full bucket or two all over the front of your dress.  

Mopping today had been especially excruciating since you'd exhausted yourself breaking down a huge delivery of loan sharks killed during an especially bloody turf war the night before.  Your biceps, predictably, quaked as you lifted the bucket of pink-tinged waste water up to the edge of the sink; sloshing a generous amount onto your already sodden shoes.  

“Dagnabbit!” You swore, cringing as your foot squelched unpleasantly inside your boot.  

“Here,” a deep voice sounded from over your shoulder.  “Lemme help ya’ with that.”

And the next thing you knew, the bucket was effortlessly lifted from your hands and poured into the sink in one swift motion.  You turned to face the helpful stranger and were utterly shocked at how far back you had to tilt your head to meet his eyes.

The man in front of you was positively gargantuan, just about as broad as he was tall; and easily the largest man you'd seen alive and kicking since you tumbled through the gates of Hell.  

“Oh, uh-,” you stammer inelegantly, still trying to process the grandiose scale of your unexpected assistant.  “Thank you for your help, mister-?”

“Harlan,” the wall of a man replied, slipping the worn flat-cap from atop of his head, wringing it between his meaty hands bashfully.  “It's a pleasure to be makin’ your acquaintance, miss.”

He was staring at you so unabashedly that it set your nerves on edge, wondering what fascinated him so.

“Do I- is there something on my face?” You ask, patting at the soft fur on your cheek self-consciously.  

“Oh, no- it's nothin’ like that,” Harlan stammered, scratching at the back of his neck.  “I'm just wonderin’ how I've managed to not cross paths with ya’ before now.”

“Hell's a big place.  I'm sure you've seen me around town before.”

“I would have remembered if I did, I can promise ya’ that,” Harlan admitted, pinning you in place with another intense stare.  Your tail twitched, providing a sudden reminder that you had a couple of additional attributes that made you stick out like a sore thumb amongst the more uniform population of Cannibal Town.  

It wasn't the first time your animal characteristics had given someone pause, but it had been so long since that last time it happened that it threw you off balance for a moment.  

“So, what brings you in today, Harlan?” You inquire, wringing out your apron over the sink in an effort to appear more like a professional woman and less like a drowned rat caught in a pool filter.  

“Bread.”

“I'm…afraid we don't sell bread.  This is a butcher shop,” you reply slowly, confused as to how anyone could possibly mistake the two businesses.  

“Right!  Of course.  I- I mean, I know that,” Harlan said, words tumbling from his mouth in an uncoordinated heap.  “What I mean is that I'm here to pick up some bone meal.  For the bakery.  So they can make bread.  Because that's their job.  Baking, I mean.” 

“Oh!” You proclaimed loudly, dropping your apron and gesturing that he follow you back to the storage room.  “Yes, of course!  I'm so sorry for the confusion, but you aren't the usual guy they send for pick-up.”

“He got a promotion,” Harlan explained, turning sideways so his shoulders could clear the doorframe.  “So they're shufflin’ folks around to cover all the work he used to do.”

“Isn't that always how it goes?” You laugh dryly, winding your way through the cluttered aisles.  “Make everyone else pick up the slack so the boss doesn't have to hire anyone new.”

“I can't say that I mind so much.  I'm findin’ my new duty mighty agreeable.”

“Well that's good.  But let's see if that positivity holds out once you see what you have to carry out of here,” you cringe apologetically, patting the side of a towering pile of heavy flour sacks.  “We processed an entire gang of snakes last week- they're very bony, you know.  Anyway, your predecessor left a hand cart in the corner.  It'll probably take a couple of trips to-”

Your instructional lecture was interrupted by Harlan squatting down in front of the pile, wrapping his arms around the stack on either side, before standing up again.  With only a small grunt to indicate he was exerting any sort of effort, Harlan split the load in half and hefted the heavy bone meal sacks up high onto each shoulder.

“-or you can grab all of it at once,” you amend breathlessly, hypnotized by the sight of Harlan's biceps bulging against the fabric of his shirt sleeves.  

In the back of your mind you make a note to get the name of his tailor; deeply impressed by the herculean strength of his seams.   

Tag List:

@wendds, @matpatsstuff, @qardasngan, @polytheatrix,

@sirens-and-moonflowers, @venusdandy

[sfblah]

The Cleanup Crew - Chapter 3

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

Finally it's time to get dangerous. This is almost twice the length of the previous chapters, which is like fine, but I was originally hoping to keep installments in this series on the shorter side. I guess you can take the writing out of the blah but you can't take the blah out of the writing.

Female sneezes - Feathers

cw: Guns, Violence

Operation "Porcupine"

All things considered, Bucket’s first day at the cafe wasn’t terrible. Not too many customers, and she spent all of her time shadowing Duster and Mop anyway. It was like the first day back in school, when all your teachers just make sure you have all your stuff and don’t even assign any homework.

That evening, however, was like the second day back in school.

The four maids gather around the table in the staff room, where Kerchief had laid out several stacks of papers. The manager pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and glances around at her subordinates, then she turns her attention to the documents below.

“We’ve received a request for turndown service,” she says, her voice flat and serious as always. “A straightforward retrieval mission, which should also serve as a fine opportunity to show Miss Bucket how we do business after hours.”

Bucket’s eyes unfocus and stare into the middle distance. Time for actual work.

“Our client is an engineer with the ExTech corporation who has been leaking information regarding dangerous products to various journalists over the past several months. He was recently outed as a whistleblower, and has already been taken into protective custody. However, he was forced to leave several important items behind at his apartment, and it’s our job to collect them.”

“Sounds easy enough,” says Duster, grinning as she manages to somehow rub a finger under her nose but in an arrogant sort of way.

“Due to the sensitive nature of the situation, we will only be told what to look for once we arrive in the client’s apartment, but we have also been assured that there won’t be anything we can’t carry on our persons.”

Bucket realizes she’s zoning out and tries to resume paying attention. It wasn’t even a conscious choice on her part, it was like her mind had a mind of its own and would simply switch off if she wasn’t thinking about video games or food. Whatever. Hopefully nobody noticed.

“Miss Duster, Miss Bucket, and I will enter the building as cleaners and make our way to the client’s apartment on the eleventh floor. We’ll go in light and quick, with concealed equipment only. Miss Mop will provide surveillance from this nearby billboard, where you’ll have a view of our client’s apartment’s windows. Let’s…”

Kerchief trails off, closing her eyes with a deep breath. She pushes her glasses up her nose once more before continuing.

“Let’s try to keep collateral damage to a minimum, please.”

Neither Duster nor Mop give any sort of response, standing stock still. Bucket blinks. Just what kind of collateral damage are they expecting?

“Any questions?” Kerchief concludes, looking around the table at her maids.

“Um, yeah. Hi,” interjects Bucket, shakily raising a hand. “Was I supposed to, um… Bring my own guns? Cuz, I, er… Kinda don’t have one.”

Kerchief gives a hand sign for the others to move out, and then she leads Bucket over to the weapon wall. Part of her hopes she’ll be allowed to pick her own, but she buries any urge to complain when the manager selects a diminutive, blocky pistol.

“Here, this should suit you nicely. Glock 19, compact nine millimeter.”

“Thanks,” Bucket mumbles as she accepts the gun, hoping she doesn’t sound ungrateful. She kinda is, but she hopes she doesn’t sound like she is. After checking the chamber and holstering the weapon under her ruffles, she skips after Kerchief to avoid being left behind.

For better or worse, the apartment building is a relatively short van ride away. Duster holds a one-sided conversation with Mop as Kerchief drives, and Bucket silently spaces out all over again. The rookie maid is jolted from her trance when the van stops early and Mop climbs out alone, SRS precision rifle in tow. Bucket briefly wonders how Mop can use a scope with her hair covering both eyes before deciding to spare her remaining functional brain cells.

“Oh yeah, almost forgot,” says Duster as the van slows to a stop in the parking lot. She holds out an earpiece to Bucket, who accepts it and slips it into place after a nod of thanks. After a brief pop of static, she hears what she assumes to be Mop’s voice over the radio.

“I’m in position. Approach looks clear, no sign of movement in the client’s apartment.”

“Thank you, Miss Mop,” Kerchief replies, coming in differently through each of Bucket’s ears. “Keep us apprised of anything unusual.”

Kerchief’s voice is flat in a stilted, socially awkward sort of way, while Mop’s is flat in more of a ‘can I go home now?’ fashion. Bucket assumes they each simply have their gimmicks. Duster’s customers at the cafe probably want her to lift them off the ground with a big hug, and Mop’s want her to step on them.

The three maids hop out of the van, showing nothing to set them apart from any other group of housekeepers. Kerchief casually flashes a key fob to open the building’s front door, and Bucket takes a detailed mental image of the patterns on the carpet as she follows to the elevator. The ride up to the eleventh floor is silent aside from Duster cracking her knuckles. No pre-battle elevator music or anything. Maybe this really would be an easy in and out. Surely there’d have to be thematically inappropriate and royalty-free jazz if they were about to walk into a gunfight.

Nothing out of the ordinary in the hall either. The door to each apartment was neatly shut, with no trash or bodies strewn about, no ninjas waiting in the rafters, and no rafters in which ninjas could be waiting to begin with. Kerchief unlocks unit 11-38 and the squad slips inside without incident.

“Don’t shoot, Mop. It’s just us,” teases Duster, giving a casual salute in the direction of the nearest window.

“Tempting,” Mop drones, though the glass remains unpunctured.

Kerchief brings a hand up to her earpiece as Bucket takes a look around the room. It’s a small, simple suite apartment. Decently sized living room, and a door on one side that presumably leads to the bedroom.

“We’ve arrived, Master,” Kerchief says into her radio. “What would you like us to retrieve?”

“O-oh, right, of course, thank you,” comes a nervous voice that Bucket hasn’t heard before. Time to walk out of here with an armful of classified documents that will surely get her disappeared in the coming weeks.

“It’s, um… My limited edition commemorative Boom the Porcupine plushie.”

Bucket’s head jerks up to stare across the room at Kerchief. The bespectacled maid’s glasses spontaneously slip down her nose just a smidge.

“...I’m sorry?”

“I-it’s the most important thing I own! Only ten were ever made! P-please, find it…”

Neither Bucket nor Kerchief give any sort of reaction. The manager’s eyes darken as she stares vacantly into the middle distance, but still she says nothing.

“Um… M-miss Maids? A-are you there?”

”heh… HRESHoooh!”

A sudden thundering sneeze startles both maids out of their stupor. Bucket looks in the rough direction of the noise to find the door to the bedroom wide open and Duster nowhere to be seen in the living room.

“hh-hhh-! RAAHshooh! Uh. I think I found it.”

Duster’s scratchy, nasal voice sounds even scratchier and nasally-er than usual. Bucket and Kerchief follow into the bedroom, and while the living room seemed completely untouched, the domicile appeared to have been completely torn apart. Papers and broken drawers are strewn across the floor, and the pillows and mattress are ripped open and covered in loose feathers. Duster stands beside the bed, a green plush toy held limply in one hand as her head tips back toward the ceiling.

“HAESHHoo!”

A few feathers stir at the disturbance, and the stuffed animal falls to the floor. It rolls toward Bucket, at which point she picks it up and turns it over in her hands.

“Looks okay to me,” she says, unable to find any obvious damage. Her eyes briefly flick up to Duster, who is busy frantically rubbing two fingers back and forth under her nose. “Gesundheit, by the way.”

“Please forgive Miss Duster,” Kerchief interjects, leaning over to inspect the plushie herself. “I’m afraid she’s allergic to feathers.”

“No I’m dot!” protests the boyish maid. “It’s just sobethig id the eh… heh… HERSHHoooh!”

“Care, care. Another van is pulling into the parking lot,” comes Mop’s voice. “Will keep- Get down, get down!”

Before Bucket can react, she finds herself being yanked into the bedroom closet. The sound of breaking glass just barely reaches her ears as the door slams shut, plunging her and the others into darkness.

“Talk to me, Miss Mop,” Kerchief half whispers.

“At least six unidentified contacts, and they’re… They’re climbing the side of the building.”

“They’re what!?” snaps Duster, prompting Kerchief to clap a hand over her mouth.

“Hold fire and keep me updated,” commands the manager. “The apartment has already been searched. We’ll let them see that for themselves and they should pass us by.”

“Understood.”

Silence falls once more. Bucket ponders pointing out that whoever these people are, they’re definitely going to check the closet. But surely Kerchief already knows that, right? Plus, with eleven floors worth of wall to climb, she and the others would probably have time to simply go back the way they came.

“First unknown entering the window now,” Mop says. Okay, that was a lot faster than Bucket expected. Sure enough, the crunch of someone stepping on glass shards soon follows. In spite of the apparent danger, however, the maid begins to tumble down another mental rabbit hole. In the sliver of light coming around the closet door, Bucket spots a little scrap of feather fluff stuck to the plush porcupine. She casually plucks it off and flicks it away, leaving it to flutter about in improbable aimlessness until it comes to rest right on the upturned tip of Duster’s nose.

“hh… heh…”

The muscular maid’s reaction is immediate, and Kerchief’s is only slightly behind. The manager presses an outstretched finger firmly against Duster’s nostrils, silently urging her to hold it in. 

“hegh… ghh…”

Duster shudders, unable to suppress the occasional hitchy wheeze. The footsteps in the bedroom continue, sometimes moving closer, sometimes away. But, if someone else had already turned the apartment upside down, why were they-

“ah-ahh-CHOOOO!!”

Bucket doubles over with a sudden screamed sneeze, leaving Duster too stunned to finish her own. The closet door flies open and the maids find themselves facing a white, featureless… Face? A pair of glowing blue eyes stare out from behind what Bucket can only assume is a robot’s plastic outer shell. She sheepishly rubs her nose as the machine regards her and each of the maids, but none of them offer any reaction. Finally the robot settles on the stuffed animal in Bucket’s arms, and its eyes blink in seeming recognition.

“Attention, female. Surrender the porcu-”

Kerchief quickdraws her Sig P229 sidearm and delivers two rapid shots from the hip to the robot’s torso, then she takes a split second to aim before putting a third bullet through its head. She strides out of the closet without missing a beat, checking for danger in both directions before turning in the direction of the window and firing again. The maid takes her finger off the trigger, raises her weapon slightly, and looks back to her subordinates.

“Time to get tactical, ladies. Miss Mop, weapons free.”

Bucket blinks a few times before fumbling to draw her own pistol.

“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, sure,” she stammers, awkwardly stepping into the bedroom. A grappling hook had pierced through the window and secured itself to the wall below, giving the robotic attackers their means of ingress.

“ehh… hHRESHHoo!”

Bucket jumps as Duster heaves out another explosive sneeze. By the time Bucket can turn to look, her snuffly companion has already produced and readied a Scorpion Evo 3 submachine gun. Where she’d been hiding it all this time remains a mystery. With a harsh sniff and a firm rub under her nose, Duster walks up to the fallen robot and gives it a kick.

“ExTech,” she grumbles, pausing to mash her nostrils upward with the palm of her hand. “And they’re really here for this heh… ehgh… HESHH-hooh!”

“Porcupine,” Bucket amends, assuming Duster was trying to sneeze her way through ‘hedgehog.’

A distant POP interrupts the banter, and a moment later the sounds of crashing and clattering issue through the window.

“Remaining climbers dispatched,” says Mop. “Doesn’t look like they survived the fall. Are they… Robots?”

“ExTech drones, here for the same thing we are,” Bucket mumbles. “I didn’t think stuff like this existed, but I’m a maid with a gun, so I guess anything’s possible.”

“Oh, more good news. ExTech helicopter inbound,” Mop alerts. Kerchief’s hand flies up to her earpiece.

“Hold fire, there’s no way to control where it’ll crash.”

“I hope you can make a quick exit, then. They’re headed for the roof.”

Bucket looks around at her companions, bristling slightly as the sound of beating rotors draws nearer.

“So, uh… Elevator? Do we have to take the stairs cuz it’s an emergency?”

Kerchief and Duster each remove a climbing descender from under their ruffles. Bucket twitches.

“H-hang on, what are those? I don’t have one.”

“Just hold on to me,” says Duster with a grin, clipping her device onto the rope the robots had courteously provided. Not wanting to be left behind, Bucket immediately hops onto her back and clings for dear life. She squeezes even tighter as Duster braces against the windowsill, forgetting all about the porcupine plush as it gets squished in between them.

“Wait, can this thing hold two people?” Bucket screeches. Duster glances back at her with a wink.

“Only one way to find out!”

Duster kicks off from the window, and the pair begin to glide down the rope toward the parking lot below. Bucket lasts a whole two seconds before starting to scream at the top of her lungs, but she runs out of breath before they reach the ground and manages to silence herself.

“So, how’s this for your first day of work?” Duster shouts over the rushing wind. Bucket does her best to shrug without letting go.

“Beats retail, I guess!”

“Damn straight! I think you’re… Y-youre… heh… eh-hehh…”

Their descent becomes a touch choppy as Duster’s breath starts to waver. Filled with a renewed sense of panic, Bucket tries to maneuver one hand to put a finger under her lifeline’s nose, but…

“heh… hEH! HRESHHHoooh!”

Completely consumed by her sneeze, Duster loses her grip on her descender. She and Bucket plummet to the ground, a treacherous two feet of remaining distance. Both maids lay on top of each other on the pavement in silence for a few stunned seconds before starting to moan and groan.

“Gesundheit…” breathes Bucket, reaching between herself and her companion as she remembers the flattened plushie. Duster snorts inelegantly and rubs her fingers in a rough circle under her itchy nose.

“Yeah… Sorry. You break anything?”

“Nah. Just your fall.”

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Sexual Thoughts, TW: Sexual Situations, TW: Oral Sex, Dominant-ish Ghost, Submissive-ish Reader, Fingering

Get a bucket and a mop~ Also, don't think for a second that spiciness ends with this chapter. We going all out up in here lol

Reader POV:

"There you are," you murmured, turning to face him. "What took you so long out there?"

"Not much, just cleaning up a bit in the kitchen."

"You didn’t have to do that! I was gonna clean up in the morning.”

"I didn’t mind,” Ghost chuckled. "I’m not above washing a dish or two. Besides, you cooked. If you’re gonna be the Pancake Master, you gotta let me be the Dishes Master sometimes."

“Aw,” you melted at his thoughtfulness. “Okay, sounds like a deal.”

You smiled dreamily, your mind instantly returning to the idea of living together long term. It had only been a few hours at the cabin, but part of you wanted to stay here forever. Far away from the stress of your job, distanced from the drama at the base, surrounded by pine trees, and with Ghost by your side. You glanced over at him, curious if he felt the same way. But when your eyes landed on him, you blushed when you saw him beginning to undress. Your eyes dropped to his hands as he began untying his robe, the simple act making your breath hitch.

"D-do you want me to give you some privacy?" You rushed, swallowing hard and tearing your eyes up from his waist. "I can turn around."

"This cabin isn’t very big. And we're literally sleeping in the same bed, princess. So we’re bound to see a bit more of each other eventually," he laughed, draping the robe over the foot of the bed. "Besides, aren’t we… Well, let me rephrase that. What exactly are we right now?"

"Well," you stammered, unsure how to word your response without sounding silly. "Is it too soon to start dating?"

"Depends. There someone you got eyes for?"

"Yes, you!" you laughed. "You know that!"

"Just making sure we're on the same page," he chuckled. "But no, I don't think so. If you feel ready to date again, I'd be more than happy to step up to the plate."

A rush of warmth slowly crept over your face as he nonchalantly lowered his sweatpants and stepped out of them. After placing them beside his robe, he shooed you towards the far end of the bed and climbed in after you. It appeared he was a "just boxers" kind of guy when it came to sleepwear. But you had no complaints. Far from it, in fact. The crotch of his boxers bowed outward dramatically. You had only taken a quick glance, not wanting to get caught ogling him. But the size of what was hidden beneath them was not lost on you. If he had turned out to be the type who slept naked, you knew you would have a hard time keeping your hands off of him under the blankets. Even if you kept your hands respectfully to yourself, the chances were high that his cock would brush against you at some point. Especially if you got him riled up a bit. A few innocent wiggles of your ass against his lap as you “tried to get comfortable”. Maybe you could secretly slip off your panties during the night. Maybe you could get him to spoon you and his cock would just so happen to press against your ass. Or, if you were lucky, between your legs.

“You good?” Ghost asked, noticing your mile long gaze.

You shook yourself from your sexual daze and gave him a quick nod before tearing your eyes off of his body. As you scooted across the bed, you were briefly ashamed to have let such thoughts consume you so easily. But you didn’t punish yourself for the sexual urges you felt. There was no shame in wanting him like that, craving him like that. With a body like his, who could look at him and not want to jump his bones?

You scrambled as far from his side of the bed as you could, trying to give him adequate space. But there wasn’t very much space to work with. Even moving as far to one side as you could, there was barely half of the bed left available. And to get that much extra space, you were awkwardly crammed against the bedroom wall as Ghost settled in beside you. He sighed and stretched out lazily, tucking his arms behind his head as he reclined against the soft pillows.

"Um, Ghost?" You giggled. "I don't know if this bed is going to be big enough for both of us."

"We'll fit just fine. We just gotta be a little creative,” he hummed, reaching out for you. “Come here, princess."

Moving slowly and gently, Ghost’s large hands settled around your waist and he tugged you closer to him. As your weight started to roll over onto him, his hand moved to hug the curve of your hip to keep you from falling over. The gesture was purely utilitarian and innocent, only meant to help support you. But you couldn’t help but notice the way his fingertips pressed oh so close to the curvature of your rear. As he deftly pulled you on top of him, you had to bite back a moan at that act alone. Once you were securely snuggled against his chest and he was certain you’d found your balance, he pulled the blankets to cover you both and then wrapped his arms around you.

In truth, Ghost hadn't made the position suggestion with ulterior motives. How else were you supposed to sleep? And he was fairly sure neither of you would voluntarily opt to sleep through the night squished against the wall like you had been. But when your chest pressed against his own, he felt the unmistakable sensation of hardened nipples shifting against his chest. You weren’t wearing a bra. And in your current position, all that separated your breasts from pressing against his bare skin was a thin layer of loose fabric. Every move you made on top of his made the outline of your unrestrained breasts shift and bounce against him. And each time they did, Ghost felt his excitement grow. And if he wasn’t careful, you would most certainly notice it. In an attempt to prevent any unnecessary friction against his groin, he tried to shift your body higher on his own. But when you pushed off of his chest and sat up, the fullness of your ass landed directly on him and he failed to contain a heated moan at the sudden contact. A moan that he knew you had to have heard.

And his suspicion was correct because you definitely had. You saw the brief flicker of desire in his eyes. You felt his hands twitch, his fingers tightening around your hips for only a second. And beneath your fingers, you could feel the pace of his heart sharply increase. The man was as horny as you were! Judging by the increasing stiffness in his boxers, he was more than just a bit excited. Feeling emboldened by his response, you pressed further and ground your groin against his. The motion made his breath stutter and his hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of the same. But despite the pointed interest his body conveyed, Ghost stiffened beneath you and clamped his hands down on your waist to hold you still.

"Look," he sighed, his voice strained. "I know what you’re trying to do. But you've been through a lot tonight. And I don't want to take advantage. I don’t want this to be something you regret in the morning."

"Do you… not want me anymore?"

Your mind spun with panic and embarrassment. Was it all about the hunt for him? The thrill of the chase? And now that he'd gotten his prize, the fire had gone out just like that? Had you really just destroyed one relationship to end up right back where you had started? What on earth had you just done??

Ghost saw the sheer mortification on your face and rushed to dispel it. "No, that’s not what I’m saying. Honestly, it's taken everything in me not to bend you over the nearest surface ever since you got out of the car. You're lucky you made it two steps past the front door. I want you then, and I sure as hell want you now. But I made you a promise and I’m determined to keep it, though it’s proving to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I’m not putting my hands on you without your clear permission. Without confirmation that it's what you really want."

Though the mood was serious and tense, you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture. It was so kind of him to be that committed to respecting you. But though it warmed your heart, the last thing you wanted him to do tonight was treat you respectfully.

“Ghost,” you whispered, holding his gaze as you tugged your shirt over your head and threw it to the floor. “What I want is for you to fuck me. As long and as hard as you desire. That's what I really want right now.”

Ghost’s breath was coming in short pants, his eyes burning into every inch of skin you revealed to him. You reached for the hem of your panties, eager to remove them as well. But now that he had heard the words he’d been waiting so long to hear, Ghost was unwilling to waste another precious second. Before you could lower the fabric past your hips, his hand shot out and seized your bicep. His fingertips dug into your arms painfully as he gave your body a forceful yank, pulling you back down on top of him. Your hips molded against his as the palm of his other hand pressed into your lower back, forcing away any hopes of separation between your bodies. And then the world spun around you as he flipped you beneath him. Your back had barely bounced against the mattress before he was on you.

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you, princess,” he growled, caging you from above. “Don’t you doubt that for a second.”

His words sent a jolt of arousal down your spine, making you shiver in anticipation. You didn’t want to wait any longer and he clearly wasn’t interested in delays himself. In that spirit, you reached down and started frantically tugging at your panties to get them off. But Ghost stopped you a second time, this time closing his hand around your throat and pushing you down into the bed below him.

“Mine,” he snarled.

The ferocity in his voice and the fire in his eyes was more than enough to make you freeze in place. His intention was clear. He wanted to remove your final piece of clothing himself. So you let your hands fall limp against the mattress, surrendering fully to his lead. With one hand, he grabbed hold of the waistline and yanked, the delicate lace shredding in his fist like tissue paper. And the minute the clothing was removed, his hand eagerly took its place. After giving your delicate folds a few firm strokes, he quickly shoved two fingers into your core.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, throwing your head back at the sudden entry.

The hand at your throat kept you from being able to see his pleasure unfold. But the low moan he made at your wetness was more than enough to satisfy your curiosity. His eyes were glued to where his fingers vanished into your depths, watching them slowly drive in and out of you almost in a trance.

“God. You’re so wet, princess,” he moaned. “Just as tight as I remember, too. Jesus.”

His pace began to slowly increase, his fingertips curving upward to stimulate hidden targets deep within you. Targets that he struck with firm and brutal precision. Every entry made you whimper with both need and pleasure. He knew what he was doing, there was no doubt about that. And after the last time he’d touched you like this, he was well aware exactly how to make you a quivering mess of arousal. And he was well on his way to doing just that.

“Ghost-”

“Don’t talk, no words,” he whispered, rubbing the pad of his thumb over your swollen clit. “Let me take care of you, doll. Let me make you feel good.”

You whimpered again, the sound growing higher in pitch as his thumb kneaded the sensitive bundle of nerves. His hands on your body? His fingers thrusting inside your wet folds? His thumb torturing your clit in the best of ways? There were so many things to feel all at once it was almost overwhelming. But you obeyed, abandoning all thoughts of speaking and letting your head loll back onto the pillow. Your eyes fell shut and you hung on as the indescribable pleasure filled your senses. But if you thought the current stimulation was enough to drive you over the edge, nothing could have prepared you for the wet heat of his mouth descending on your sex.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, your entire body trembling beneath him.

Ghost moaned against you in response, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations. His tongue lapped at you hungrily, determined to not let even the smallest crevice of your folds go unexplored. For a moment, his lips encircled your clit and sealed around the small protrusion. And then he started to suck. Hard. It felt like he was drawing your very soul out of your body with each desperate tug. And if he was, you wouldn’t have stopped him. He could have all of you, body and soul. He could have everything as long as the feeling never stopped.

You whimpered loudly as he devoured you, clutching the bedsheets to control the powerful tremors rippling through your form. Control. That was a cute thought. There was no such thing as control. Not right now. And if there was, it certainly wasn’t in your possession. When his hands shifted to your hips and hoisted your lower half completely off the bed, it was clear all of the control here was in his firm grasp. He threw your legs over his shoulders and pressed your folds against his mouth, continuing to suckle the sensitive bundle of nerves with reckless abandon. And all you could do was limply dangle from his arms, letting out gasped moans of pleasure as he ate his fill from your sweetness.

When your legs started to quiver uncontrollably, Ghost tightened his hold on you and finally released your clit from his lips in order to plunge his tongue into your slick entrance.

“Good girl,” he mumbled into your folds. “Such a good girl for me.”

Those words were your first undoing of the night. And you felt safe in assuming there would be many more to follow. With a strangled cry of pleasure, you fell over the harsh drop of your climax. Your thighs tensed around him, but he welcomed the increased pressure and moaned into your sex as a fresh supply of wetness flooded his mouth. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak. Only garbled, incoherent sounds flew past your lips as your body tried and failed to handle the intense waves of release that overtook you.

Perhaps you blacked out from the stimulation alone. Perhaps you were just that dazed from the sensations that reality escaped you for a moment. But either way, you had somehow ended on your stomach. Your hips were lifted off the bed just enough to give Ghost the access he required. And the very next thing you registered was the fat head of his erection rubbing against your folds from behind. You couldn’t see anything from this angle, but it made you wonder just how big he actually was! If the tip felt as large as it did, he was going to stretch you out more than just a little. But instead of forging ahead, Ghost had paused and was lingering there.

“Princess,” Ghost panted, slowly thrusting between the flesh of your thighs. “I know you said you liked it rough. But I won't lie. I can be a bit more than just rough. I don't hold back and it takes an act of God to make me stop once I get started. You sure you can really handle that? I’m not the best at being gentle, but I can promise to try my best if it's too much.”

“Ghost, I’ve never been more sure in my entire life,” you moaned, moving with him. “Please.”

Ghost chuckled, the sound low and husky as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Well then. You might want to hold onto something.”