#the sign the series final thoughts and quick pitch

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - it was a pretty darn good time, frankly

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - Everyone looked like they were having a lot of fun in the fight sequences. I’m very happy for them. I’m not surprised they shot Khem and Chart. A little shocked it wasn’t also Yai, TBH.

I found this final episode rushed. According to rumors, The Sign was originally slated to be 14 eps, and it probably should’ve been. And I don’t say that often about Thai BL. But we all knew it was getting too bloated for its britches, so I'm not surprised they fumbled the ending. For me personally, it just wasn't that bad. It was fine and I was fine with it.

Tho, Billy does not look good with facial fur, messes up those gorgeous angles.

I was ultimately amused that the solution to the mythology thread was simply to talk to the river god and persuaded him to give up... off screen. It felt very old school wuxia. Or like Aeschylus or something. I did adore the stinger, Saint was basically like “I want wings too”. 

FINAL THOUGHTS

This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, PNR, fated mates, police procedural, fantasy, mystery, suspense, and slasher. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it. Was it a crazy unhinged mess +1 roll for damage? Yes. Yes it was. Did it manage to hold all those tangled threads together? No it did not. Was it also a charming, sexy, engaging, non-stop piece of entertainment? Sure thing. I think this show is basically my KinnPorsche, and frankly I’ve been chasing that dragon naga since KP aired. Is it perfect? No. But it was balls to the wall FUN and that gets a 9/10 from me.

I'm thinking of doing a full recap review (partly because I have so many great screen shots.)

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 10-11 of 12 - Since this series is following the yaoi so closely, I knew these were the separation eps. (Also I knew with would be a soft non-doom ep 11, Japan rarerly does these.) I like that they used it to show improve communication and development in all relationships, but, frankly, TayNew are just best when they are TayNew together on screen. So yeah. Let’s keep them back together, please?

Meanwhile, TayNew gifted us a gorgeous loving sweet sex scene. Thanks OG for doing us a solid. 

I wanna add, it sure is fun to see New play as soft and vulnerable character, I feel like he hasn’t done that since SOTUS. 

(Read all about distribution issues here.)

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 12fin - 1/3 of this is a sweet romance about a student doctor falling in love with a student chef, and the rest of it is utter dross. Look the OffGun bits were GREAT.. In fact, I think they’re better AS A PAIR in this show than in any of their other BLS. And I'm a hard sell on any OffGun being better than PickRome. Saying that, how can I review a show where I could only tolerate 1/3 of it? Because I didn’t like any other aspect of this show, no other pairs and no other plots. That gives me: 9/10 for the OffGun bits, 5/10 for everything else. Frankly it probably should be an 8 but I gotta go with my gut and it's upset about this so 7/10. Sorry boys. It’s GMMTV’s fault. Your heart was in this show, mine wasn’t. 

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 4 of 12 - These two are so good at making heart eyes at each other. It’s ridiculous. They don’t need any cartoon images or noises. Moot crush but "I wanna flirt and court more" is so flipping awesome. I love this for them… and us. 

1000 Years Old ep 2 of 12 - It’s very silly and we have been gifted with the dorkiest vampire ever. But... the smell thing makes me so happy. And I like that the vamp uses chan/nai or tan = v old fashioned. Nahlak. I love our ghost girl. Did you notice she wasn’t in the room with them but they left an empty chair for her? Also nahlak.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 6 - Kai was pretty much just “you're a workaholic but I basically married you whether you like it or not.” SMOOCH. What can I say? I'm a sucker for this dynamic.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - How is this show so cute? How do they both love and hurt each other so much. They are both just scared of loosing each other. Gah.

Unknown (Taiwan Sat Youku YouTube) 1 of 12 eps - Youku dropped the first ep to their YouTube channel but I doubt we can expect that to continue. Still, it was nice to be able to watch it in a convenient way. I enjoyed it. But I am cautious about it. Of course this is possibly two of my favorite tropes of all time (stepbrothers or a variation + hyung romance). So I’m looking forward to the romantic thread, but from the gritty style, it feels a lot more like a Taiwanese short. Which means it could go very dark and may not end happy. 

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 7 of 10 - I just don’t know if the main couple should be a couple. But when they finally get around to talking to each other, they sure are lovely. Also how great is it to see a uke initiate a kiss? Even if it’s not a very good kiss. 

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 2 of 8 - I am still not sure about this one. I am not contesting its quality, just saying it’s not for me. Also I’m not wild about what amounts to basically a redo of everything that already happened in the first episode from a different perspective. I know it’s a tall order with Japan, but I would like (when it’s a short series) for each new installment to actually move the plot (such as it is) along in someway. Am I asking too much?

It's done but I have no time

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

It's airing but...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - rumors are it's interesting but full of unlikable characters. I'm waiting to know how it ends.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far. Ends next week TF.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - I tried but I can't get into my WeTV account anymore and I'm way too lazy to figure it out. Should I bother to go grey for it?

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand YT) - High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite when both of them have full time jobs but coming out is still a problem. You can watch this on YT but it has no Eng Subs.

Next Week Looks Like This:

We're light on content right now, but frankly I'm so busy with work I don't really mind.

3/6 Born to be Y (Thai ????) 10 eps - 14 contestants who audition to compete in Born To Be Y, a program that searches for the best couple of the year to work together on a giant project. Described as semi-reality series. So I probably won't bother.

3/7 Deep Night (Thai iQiyi) 10 eps - Multiple romances set in a host clubs. Nice to see First back on my screen but this is not my favorite setting.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

The eyes have it.

Your random BL moment brought to you by my ult-bias being a hyung smartass to his maknae.

(Last week)

#the sign the series final thoughts and quick pitch #the sign the series #thai bl #cooking crush review #cooking crush #OffGun #i loved it #cherry magic th #cherry magic thailand #cherry magic #live action yaoi #thai adaptation #taynew #bl kisses #what the hell is happening in my tags it's like we are back in 2016 #city of stars #thai bl pulp #japanese bl #perfect propose #AntiReset #taiwanese bl #unknown the series #Although I Love You and You #Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

[magnoliabutters]

• THE DEVIL OF HELLFIRE •

pairing: kas!vamp eddie munson x (she/her) reader

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; violence, blood (he be vampin'), mentioned; hostage & kidnapper dynamics, internal dialogue/processing, etc.

word count: ~3.3k

support your writer: reblogs for vamp daddy kas 😈✨

stories of eddie munson series •  season two • 

note: inspired by @steveshairychest & this post, fantastic ideas y'all, check 'em out; it's a rather short part for this series, but i think we can take our time with it ♥️ we finally get to meet kas, i hope you like him...

Lightheaded. That’s the last thing you’ll ever feel as you collapse into your killer’s arms. Familiar arms, but you're not sure why. You hear sucking against your skin. You smell nothing, not a single thing to identify this entity. You feel your blood trickling down your collarbone and chest. It’s a lot - a lot of blood.

A rush of energy pulls you out of this darkening vision. Your eyes blink open, widely, as you take in the scene before you. With a quick decision, you dig your elbow deep within the gut of your killer. Their arms let go of you as a loud grunt escapes their lips. You run like a bat out of hell. You run as fast as you can, desperate to get out of this new version of Hawkins. Back to the school.

You feel the adrenaline bursting through your body as you run, faster than you ever have, to the border of this hellish place. Your breath is heavy and rapid. You feel like you're running low on oxygen. There's not enough in the air. The streets are dark. Those eery blackened veins are covering the road signs. Your home town is now unrecognizable.

At a crossroads, you decide to run left - hoping that may take you to safety. You continue running as fast as you can. A part of you is shocked that you've maintained your speed. That's when you hear it. A rustling of leaves. Your heart drops and you turn to your right, praying to see a rabbit or a deer as its cause. Unfortunately, there is nothing. Nothing but pitch black darkness. All you see is the cloudy breath in front of you. Your hair begins to stand on its ends. Your heart begins to beat faster, so fast that you can hear and feel it. You are terrified.

“What was that for?” a voice appears behind you. It sounds ... It sounds like... You turn around. Your eyes are huge saucers as your brows pull together in a mixture of excitement and sadness. His name escapes your lips softly, "Eddie?" You take in a sharp breath. A pale shell of a man stands before you. A smile across his face with blood falling from his lips. You note sharpened teeth hiding behind his grin. A huge blood soaked stain on his shirt making what was bleach white now deeply crimson. His - no, a black and white bandana across his forehead. Curls puffing out beneath its tie.

Your gut screams that the individual before you is a stranger, an absolute stranger. Yet, he has the face of an angel - your angel.

The man before you looks at you with amusement and a slight twitch to his eye. “Wrong answer, try again,” he laughs. Your eyes rake his face, his hair, his body. Physically, there is nothing different. No way to discern what part was the love of your life and what part is your apparent killer. His paleness and sharpened teeth continue to pull you out the rumination. His fair skin honestly brought out his chocolate eyes even more. But this - this thing in front of you? This is not yours.

“Who are you?” you ask with a shaken tone as you shuffle a few steps back. He follows you with excitement. His eyes watching you as though you are prey. His neck extends as his shoulders come to his ears. “See, I thought we were guessing,” he shrugs with a smile. “Where were you going?” he asks innocently with a slight tilt to his head. “I’m leaving,” you say weakly. Your lips involuntarily quivering in fear.

The man walks up to you. His face floating beside your neck. You feel those familiar curls brush against your shoulder. It's so confusing. “And who said you could do that?” he whispers as he brushes your hair back once more. He eyes the side of your neck that isn’t already gushing blood. You place your hand against his chest. You attempt to push him off but it required so much effort. Eventually, he let you push him off of you.

He swiftly moves in front of you, blocking your way. “I want to go home,” you whisper, holding back your tears. He sucks his tongue against his front teeth. “Honey, you don’t have a home,” he says with laughter. “Wanna know why?” His body moves closer to yours, smooth like a snake about to pounce. “Because you’re dead,” he whispers into your ear. He tongues those ivory fangs before licking your sensitive skin.

“Just!” you yell, as you feel his hot breath against your skin. “Just tell me what you want and-and then I get-get to leave - alive,” you mutter sternly. Your gaze still at this chest, not wanting to look into those chocolate eyes. “What I want is swimming inside your body,” he says as he circles his finger in your face. “There’s nothing else you can offer that would beat that-" He interrupts himself to think. A smile sprawling across his lips is now something that causes you fear. "Not unless..." he trails off playfully.

“Not unless what?” you ask with fear stuck in your throat. “You can suck me off,” he whispers as he bites his lip. You pull away from him in shock as he bursts into maniacal laughter. “Just kidding,” he scoffs. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He begins to walk around you. His eyes rake you up and down as a beaming smile grows upon his face. “I need Henderson,” he mutters. “If you bring me the boy, I’ll let you live - easy as that.” He shrugs as he walks around you once more.

“W-what are you going to do with him?” you hesitantly question. The man laughs as he clicks his tongue. “Hm, no questions from the audience.” He leans in once more. His cold finger trails your cheek bones down to your jaw. “Yes or no?” he asks. You are disgusted. You take a step back as you feel bitterness in your mouth. “No, I’m not bringing him here for you to kill him!” you yell as you place more space between you two.

He rolls his eyes with a smile on his face. “Is his life more important than yours?” he asks with a growing smirk. You remain silent, unsure of your answer. He steps closer to you once again. You step back only to back into a nearby tree. His hands float to your waist and pull you closer against his groin. You shake in his embrace, unclear if this will be your last. “He’s not worth your life,” he whispers as he leans closer to your mouth.

Your eyes remain on his, fearful for your life. “I’ll let you live,” he says nonchalantly. His mouth draws closer to yours. “But you’ll be staying with me for a while,” he whispers with a grin. “What’s your name?” he genuinely asks. You take in a shaky breath as tears well in your eyes. Confusion written all over your face. He doesn't know who you are?“Y/n,” you whisper. “Beautiful name,” he says as he licks his bottom lip. His eyes now fall upon yours. Slowly, he leans in and presses his cool mouth against you. This is the first time you were able to recognize Eddie within this interaction. You feel him, deep inside this hardened shell of a being.

As the man pulls back, his eyes slowly opening, his thumb rubs against your hip bone. “I’m Kas,” he smiles. “And boy, are you pretty.” You watch in horror as your sweet boy has somehow become a monster in a span of days. “Kas?” you repeat. “It sounds better coming from your mouth, darlin’,” he laughs. You watch him in absolute shock. You tremble in his proximity. Your mind is working hard to comprehend that someone who looks like your Eddie is not your Eddie.

“Follow me,” he whispers as his finger curls back to him. A smile pours over his face. You barely move your head left to right, but you can feel yourself shaking - wanting to say no. He walks forward and then turns back suddenly. You jump from your stance. You note that any movement he makes is no longer comforting. “Wait, I haven’t met you before, right?” he laughs lightly. “W-what?” you say as you release a breath. “Have we met?” he asks again as he swings his finger between you. He slyly steps forward and pushes your chin up with that same finger.

You wince at his touch. Another thing that pains you. You should never feel your skin crawl when Eddie touches you. This isn’t Eddie, you remind yourself. “I have never met you,” you whisper as you pull your chin from him. His soft face grows into another smile. “Good!” he smiles as he reaches for her hand. “If you did, I would've had to kill you," he responds nonchalantly as he walks off, pulling at his grip. "Now, come on." You're frozen still, but he continues to drag you to whether he intends. He has excitement in his eyes. A goofy laugh falls from his lips as he pulls you off the road and into the woods.

You rush behind him. Your feet have a hard time catching up. You watch as your town has completely changed into something so deranged and scary. Those small, thin black roots that you saw coming in are now huge, at least a good foot tall. The air is muggier, colder. He jumps over a huge thick vein acting as a dam for, what used to be, a strong river. “Careful with those,” he says as he points back. You nod and carefully step over it. It’s texture looks wet and disgusting.

“Vecna doesn’t like when they get stepped on,” Kas mentions as he gently supports your elbow as you cross. You still shudder at his touch, but your face shoots towards him as soon as “Vecna” left his lips. Vecna was an evil villain in Eddie’s campaign. Why was he talking about that now? “It’s just a little further,” he says with a smile. His energy is ecstatic and vibrant. He resembles an excited child, just like Eddie did.

With another few scrambling steps, he climbs up a rope ladder that swings against a tree. You follow it to see a rather large tree house in the middle of the woods. You take a look around and realize that you have absolutely no idea where you are. There are no clear signs that can point you home. “Come on!” he yells in excitement. Your body starts to panic. The oxygen is escaping your lungs once again.

A ticklish sensation on your outer wrist pulls your attention. You turn to note the heavy blood streaming down your right arm. “Kas,” you mumble as you watch the blood actively trickling onto your collar bone. He jumps into the wooden tree house above you. He peers down the opening. You look up to see his sweet face. In this lighting, in this direction, he looks like your Eddie. Why can't he be your Eddie?

"What's wrong?" he asks, absolutely clueless. “I-I can’t climb,” you whine as your shoulder crashes against the trunk. That lightheaded feeling returning as your legs begin to feel wobbly. Kas jumps down immediately, not at all phased by the distance of the fall. “Hey sweetness,” he says as his hands hold each side of your shoulders. He prompts you up against the trunk, enjoying his work. With a smile, he then takes a finger and pricks it with his right fang. He lightly taps it against the two holes dug deep within your skin.

Within seconds, you feel undeniably better. You roll out your shoulder in shock. “Hurry up, slow poke,” says as he jumps onto the rope again. You laugh, partly because you've just witnessed a miracle but also out of complete shock. You reach for the rope. It feels rough and textured against your hand. It's thickened bristles poke you. You giggle again. Why does this rope feel so funky? You grip against it harder, feeling all those bristles dig against your palm. Suddenly, you lose your grip. Suddenly, you lose everything as you fall onto your back in the cold dirt. You feel slime against your hand. You attempt to hold your head up but it's incredibly heavy. You manage to look over to see that you feel atop a few of those disgusting veins before your eyes roll back and you drift off into a mind-numbing sleep.

Your eyelashes flutter. Your head aches and burns. A gentle hand pushes your hair back. “Didn’t expect you to make it,” he coos. You open your eyes to see a smile spread across his lips. Those two pointed teeth flash behind his thick upper lip. “Welcome back to the living, darlin',” he whispers with a light laugh. You push your brows together, wincing from a pretty powerful headache. “Eddie?” you ask, still unsure if the last 24 hours was a nightmare or reality.

His tilts his head. His right eye squinting as he watches your confusion. “It’s Kas,” he says sternly. “Do not call me that again.” He stands, cursing under his breath as he walks into the other room. You gasp. It’s slowly starting to sink in. This is the new reality. You’re in Hell Hawkins and the man you love is gone. Gone, just like they said.

You hesitantly pull yourself up without issue. Your hand floats to your neck. It doesn't feel any bumps, pain, scabs, or bruising. Your neck is fine. How is it fine? With barely opened eyes, you turn to see red devils everywhere. You immediately recognize the devil of Hellfire club, despite its many alterations, painted over the wood paneled walls. It’s horns harsh and more curved. It’s ears like yellow bat wings. They are larger than normal and expand over at least one full wall. The fangs now bloodied across its bleached teeth.

Kas comes back into view as he crouches in the corner of the room. His eyes rest upon you in excitement as his hands smoosh the sides of his cheeks. “What happened?" you ask with a coarse voice. He giggles with glee. “I’ve never shared my blood before,” he states. “It was an experiment and look! You lived!” He claps his hands together proudly as his smile grows larger. "Good thing you were asleep the last couple days 'cause you fell on a few of those vines I was telling you about," he whispers as he grabs hold of a stool nearby. He sits on it before you. "Vecna would have killed you on the spot if you didn't already look dead."

Your brows pull together as you attempt to wrangle your control of this headache. You recognize that you are laying on a couch. You look down to see that your bloodied clothes are gone and you are now in one of Eddie's grey sweatpants and hellfire shirts. "A few days?" you ask as you place your hand to your temple. You apply pressure to aid the pain. Your mind races. Who is taking care of Pete? Is he okay? Does he think you abandoned him? "Yeah, it's honestly probably been closer to a week now. But who's counting?" he laughs as he shrugs.

You shake your head as you weakly push yourself up off your side. "Where did you get these clothes?" you ask as you try to catch your breath. "I found 'em in this old trailer," he shares. "Man, do you usually ask so many questions?" You look at him in confusion and disgust. "Yeah, when I find out I've been unconscious for a few days, I usually ask a few questions," you spit out sarcastically. "How did I get in them?" you ask sternly. Fear collapses your heart as you await the answer.

"I helped you out," Kas mumbles, pouting as he crosses his arms over his chest. "You undressed me," you restate with disappointment. "What?" he scoffs. "Was I supposed to leave you in all that blood? You would've started to stink." Your skin starts to crawl. "What are we doing here, K-Kas?" you ask, but the name was difficult to push out. "I was thinking we have a bit of fun," he says with excitement. You let out a shaking breath as your fingers dig into the couch's cushion. "What kind of fun?" you ask with a monotone.

He sighs and stands from the stool. His fast movement scares you. "God, I thought we could just have fun in town and get to know each other," he whines. "I thought - Ugh, I just - You're pretty, okay?" By the end of the sentence his voice had become more genuine, sincere. "I have seen a lot of ugly things in the past few days," he starts with a serious tone. "You're the first beautiful thing I've seen since." You watch him in horror as neurons fire off repeatedly in your head, attempting to make sense of the scene before you.

You rest your chin against your palm as your fingers grab hold of your cheeks and mouth. You quickly switch to bite your nail as you watch him in a panic. "W-What happened to you?" you ask hesitantly as all your muscles tighten in worry. He watches you with thoughtful eyes, until they drop to the floor. Then those eyes become saddened, horrific. "I woke up, just a few days ago, in front of that trailer I was talking about. I don't really know what happened, but I know that I was alone," he mutters. "I had a lot of blood on my shirt. Got left with some pretty gnarly scars, already healed right up."

With deep breaths, you try your best to keep from crying. What had happened to Eddie where he sustained an injury so horrible like that? And then he miraculously healed? Just like you. Kas shakes his head as he leans against the wall. "Then this burnt ass naked dude showed up," he continues. He looks off to the side as though he was brought back to that very scene. "He walked up to me and said that my name was Kas. That I was his 'puppet.' That I died alone," he whispers. His brow furrow. You watch in horror as he recollects the memory. "That my friends left me to rot," he ends with anger. He pushes himself off the stool and into your face. "That is why I need to find Henderson. I remember when he left him - me behind," he shakes his head in confusion.

Your horror undeniably becomes rage as you place a gentle hand upon his cheek. "They left you?" you ask with tears in your eyes. They start to spool over your waterline and down your cheek. Kas watches you in bewilderment. He doesn't understand why you are crying. Why he can hear your heart beat increasing in speed. He slowly nods, curious as to what your reaction will be.

Your mind spins out of control. Is this why Dustin wouldn't tell you where Eddie was? Is this why they so confidently said that he was dead? Because they left him behind? A person so gentle and sweet, left behind like trash while they all get to live their beautiful, normal lives? No. You've lost Eddie and now have an emptied psychotic shell. You feel dead inside without him. Lack of life, lack of love, lack of morals. "I'll help you find him," you mutter as your eyes fall upon the wooden floor. He smiles as he places a hand out for you. Your jaw loosens as it hangs in disappointment of yourself. The words feel disgusting out of your mouth.

But if they left Eddie behind? You will stop at nothing to make sure they feel the very same pain he felt. Dying. Alone. You grab onto Kas' hand. "Lets go."

note: shit, vecna manipulated kas and he be manipulating our reader? they are both of his puppets now. what the hell is gonna happen next? i don't even know! also the title? bitches, i am so pleased with it. perfection. and the gif? thank goodness for whoever did that. you a real angel.

next part • as you wish •

please comment with your thoughts, lmk if you want more! comment or message if you wanna join the taglist!

taglist: @babeyglo, @dotslabyrinth, @wheaty-melon, @mattymurdocksbitch, @sammararaven, @onlyfengs22, @perle1990, @ms1oftheboys, @ghosttownwherenoonegoes, @tayhar811, @hiscrimsonangel

• nav • no-no plagiarism • series • requests open •

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fanfic #Eddie Munson fandom #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x y/n #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie my beloved #kas vampire eddie #kas eddie x reader #kas eddie munson #vampire eddie #vampire Eddie munson

[gasolineghuleh]

Slated For Love

Chapter 3!

This is the final chapter of a 3 part series of a male reader mortician falling in love and having some steamy rectory sex with Papa Copia.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

cw: semi-public, blowjobs, kinda rough? idk, bottom copia

It's the morning of the funeral the next week before Papa has time to interact with you again, and when he lays eyes upon you his jaw nearly drops-- he's never seen a formal suit fit anyone as well as the one that was tailored for you especially for the occasion. Your face is clean shaven, lips accented by a nude shimmer that serves only to extenuate their movement, and your hair is perfectly coiffed. From head to toe you're an enigma wrapped in a soft Armani suit, a gift from the Abbey for your work.

It takes a little while for you to notice him after he arrives, your job taking up most of your attention and time, at least during the set up of the event. Papa finally makes his way over to you, grabbing your attention with a handshake that's slightly more intimate than you expect. There's a quick cough beside you that sounds awfully like a Ghoul covering up a chuckle and Papa takes a sharp inhale of breath through his nose. 

"I assume you'll be delivering the eulogy, Papa?" you ask, watching as the pupil of his white eye blows wide at your voice, intentionally pitched lower and meant only for him. He swallows hard, finally breaking the physical contact between the two of you as he shakes his head from side to side.

"A shame to lose him, you know." He falls silent for a second, his eyes moving to the corpse behind you, laid in a black satin coffin. You had chosen the perfect red cassock to compliment the satin of the coffin, and you bristle with pride slightly when you see Papa's approving look. "Ah, but, no-- Papa Nihil is giving the eulogy today, not me." Papa waves his hand slightly. "He knew him better, but I will be speaking as the current Papa afterwards. Can you tell I'm nervous?" His eyes twinkle, and you can feel a smile forming in response to his wink. Your cheeks flush slightly and you can feel a tingling in your palms that speaks of an underlying, unaddressed attraction.

"Nervous? You?" you scoff, shaking your head in feigned bewilderment and chuckling in an attempt to dissuade him from his implication. The sound of a throat clearing behind you acts as a sign to break the casual conversation. The heat of Papa's body leaves yours, creating a vacuum of cool air that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You tsk at yourself internally for choosing to leave the jacket of your suit upstairs, but your instincts are proven correct when he extends a gloved hand to invite you to walk with him.

"Sit with me, eh? I believe I was one of the last through the doors. Appropriately late, I think." Copia laughs to himself and ushers you to one of the velvet cushioned oak pews in the front of the small chapel. You sit a careful distance away, afraid that the closeness may breach a sense of professionalism that you're still hoping to maintain-- or maybe break. There's a catch of air in Papa's chest as he moves slightly closer to you, thighs almost touching, and you pull in a slow breath, trying to stop the fluttering in your chest. 

The pew underneath you groans in protest when you move, adjusting your hips slightly in an attempt to ease the ache that's started in your gut-- the need to touch, to feel, to smell, to bury inside of... You shake your head slightly, dispelling the thoughts and turning towards Papa. His legs are crossed at the knee, one over the other, and a leather gloved hand rests gently on his thigh. When your eyes fall to his knee his hand clenches on reflex, the leather creaking with the motion of his fingers. 

"I was hoping to have heard from you before now, you know." His voice is quiet, but not accusatory-- there's a playfulness to it, and just a hint of teasing.

"I was-"

"Busy." He turns to look at you and narrows his eyes, scanning your face as he lets the silence hang between the two of you for a second. "You should join me later tonight, hm? I had the Ghouls prepare a small lunch in my chambers... Enough for two, I suppose. Never too busy for a free meal, no?" His voice lowers a register, and you have to think to respond to him, the slow purr of the sound of his words echoing in your core. 

"Well, for a free meal I'm certain that I could make the time..."

"There's a good boy." A jolt runs through you and the smile on your face splits even wider-- praise has always been your weakness and he just inadvertently used the exact amount needed to distract you. You cough and turn your attention towards the front podium where Papa has finally taken the stage. Nihil takes his place at the podium slowly and with careful movements, his aged hands gripping the sides of it to steady himself.

"Cardinal Tremaine was a fine and upstanding young man." Papa Nihil turns his head to look at the coffin behind him, chuckling slightly into the microphone as he turns back to the audience. "Young compared to me, I suppose." The audience responds with the appropriate tittering laughter, willing to fall into the less-than-serious eulogy as compared to something dour and sad.

"He was old decades ago," Copia comments under his breath, leaning slightly towards you. When he's finished speaking he doesn't lean away, instead allowing his shoulder to rest against yours. Not enough to be excessive or uncomfortable, but it isn't like you haven't noticed-- he's been inching closer and closer to you as the moments pass. The simple weight of his arm pressed into yours tingles along your nerves and you resist the urge to look at him, lest you embarrass yourself further. His praise has affected you more than you'd like him to know quite yet, and you keep your face turned pointedly towards the stage in a vain attempt to conceal your pinkened cheeks. 

He smells wonderful. It's subtle, but something earthy fills your nose with each inhale. It's comforting, especially after being surrounded by dead bodies that no longer have human smells or unique odors to themselves-- the chemical scent of them has left you practically gasping for something more nuanced. In comparison, Papa Emeritus the Fourth practically smells like love and life made manifest. The subtle scent of incense seems to cling to his suit, becoming more prominent every time he moves even slightly. 

"With what was left of his life, he dedicated himself to his duties at the Abbey and in the congregation... as is expected of a Cardinal." Nihil continues on, detailing the personal growth and changes that Tremaine had gone through over his life. It's boring and tedious as far as eulogies go, and you allow your mind to slip in focus, instead following meandering paths of thoughts until you arrive at a particularly pleasing mental image:

Copia on his knees for you, your cock poised dangerously in front of his plump and paint smeared lips. 

Your sharp intake of breath is immediately noticed by Copia, who presses his shoulder a little bit harder against yours. Out of the corner of your eye you can see a smirk on his painted face, and his index finger begins tapping slowly on his knee. It isn't outside the realm of possibility that he's just as turned on as you are. Your eyes feel magnetized to the apex of his thighs, hoping against hope that you'll see some sort of evidence of his arousal.

"But, ah, death comes for even the most loyal. Come, it does." It's your turn to tease him, and you press your thigh against his harder, rolling your hips in a soft circle as the pew creaks underneath you. You're just slightly hard, enough to begin showing through the soft material of your gifted suit pants-- you briefly wonder if this counts as wearing an outfit that he bought for you. You stick a pin in that mentally, determined to come back to it later.

"You're doing that on purpose," he breathes out in a hushed whisper, gripping his hand tighter on his knee.

"What? Trying to think of other things and not get a hardon over you teasing me?" you retort, turning your head slightly to whisper. It seems like only he can hear you, and you're glad for the intimacy, a luxury not often afforded in such a crowded room. The hard line of his thigh presses against yours and you can feel the warmth of his body through your clothing-- a small barrier in reality, but it feels like a steel wall in your current situation.

The breathy moan that leaves his lips is deafening, and his eyes are glued to the front, hissing an "oh, yes," to himself in response to your quick comeback. Copia says nothing more, perhaps too preoccupied with watching you stare wantonly at his hand. He flexes his wrist, drawing your attention fully as your eyes follow the curves of his arm down to the spot where the tip of his middle finger presses his thigh. 

"How do you expect to speak, your Eminence?" you tease further, knocking your shoulders together gently with a small chuckle, careful to remain muted even as Papa and the entire congregation rise for the hymn. He doesn't answer, but allows himself to knock back against your shoulder. "Look, Nihil is already wrapping up. Now it's your turn." Copia clears his throat, uncrossing his legs and flexing his hand again, the leather glove squeaking as he stands.

"What I wouldn't give for my old cassock right about now, eh?" he says quietly, for your ears only. The bulge between his legs isn't as noticeable as you had hoped, but it's enough for a light touch of pink color to stand out on his cheeks beneath the white paint. His black suit pants cover it well, and the lacing along the front of his pants obscures it even more-- you're not even certain anyone would know to look besides yourself.

A private hardon, just for you, and only because of you.

The thought is a pleasant one. 

"His Eminence, Papa Emeritus the Fourth will close the ceremony." Papa Nihil moves an arm towards Copia, ushering him on to the stage for his portion. You stand along with the rest of the congregation, watching Copia's hips as he moves languidly forward towards the podium. In a normal setting, even as deep in lust as you are, you wouldn't allow your eyes to linger on him with such an intense brazen stare. However, the mourners in attendance of the funeral don't notice the heated looks that he sends towards you, nor the predatory cant of his hips as he approaches the microphone.

"Our oldest and greatest enemy, Death..." Papa licks his painted lips, smoothing his thumb and index finger along his lower lip as he smiles softly out at the crowd, his eyes making contact with each and every one of them in turn-- pointedly avoiding your eyes for now. You have a perfect view from the spot that he picked on the pew, directly in the front and under the shadow of one of the Chapel's few balconies. A pause, and a small tilt of his head. "He comes for the strong and the weak... the beautiful and the, ah... Desired." Another pause. "Being a Cardinal for such a long time in this Abbey is a hard task, eh?" His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip again, and he dips his head slightly, a deep breath moving his entire chest with the simple action.

Everything in your brain screams at you that he's performing for you, that he's talking directly to you about his own desires even through the veil of death, yet you can't tear your gaze away from his own, and, most importantly, his lips. If his invitation to dinner was lukewarm, the unspoken promise that a post-lunch dessert could be in store is ice cold and hits you directly in your core. As he talks, you push your self control harder, finally daring to drop your gaze from his mouth to the front of his slacks, well within your view from the far end of the pew you're on. 

When he pauses to draw in breath, you catch sight of the head of his cock peeking through the top of his pants and you sit back on the bench with an audible thud, a small noise of arousal escaping your throat. Your immediate regret of not opting for boxers today is pushed aside at the sound of a small chuckle coming from the head of the chapel, out of Papa's luscious and smirking lips. The entire front row can't help but notice Papa's smile and your flushed face at this point, the noise of your movement drawing their attention for the briefest of moments. 

And then... Papa's finished speaking. You've barely heard a single word of the sermon you were so happy to offer the gift of your presence, and there's a small hint of deviousness tinged with regret forming in the pit of your stomach. You do hope that the congregation doesn't notice your brief expression of shame-- Cardinal Tremaine may have been close with most of these fine members, and it would be poor taste to come off as nonchalant about his passing to everyone else.

The service ends and the music swells to fill the small chamber, the pianist playing a nice melody from their place off to the side of the podium. It's one of Copia's Ghoulettes, her tail swishing happily as she plays him off, grin evident even under her goggled mask. You listen politely from your seat, ignoring the look that comes from Copia when you clear your throat, careful to cover your mouth with your hand. He can't stop the smile that blooms on his lips, shaking his head back and forth slightly.

With the grace of a skilled people pleaser, Papa is able to make a swift exit from the congregation as they swell to receive him, instead politely dipping to the side and emerging by your pew where you still sit, leg crossed pointedly over the other. An errant Cardinal catches Papa's attention for just a moment, long enough for you to assess him close up-- the bulge in his pants has certainly not gone away, and only seems to be growing with his proximity to you. 

Papa finally turns to look at you after his short conversation, reaching to brush off your shoulders and smooth your suit jacket as you rise to meet him when he comes near. You hold perfectly still, praying to Lucifer that he'll ask to touch you anywhere else and then quickly berating yourself internally for that thought. His two-toned eyes meet yours and there's an undeniable electricity there, a simmering desire that culminates, white hot, in your belly. You've never had an immediate attraction quite like this-- and mutual, no less. 

"Dinner sounds excellent, your Dark Eminence. But perhaps we could take an aperitif in the rectory?" Papa cocks an eyebrow, mismatched eyes glancing to the side quickly where his Ghouls lingered. They scurry away quickly, the silent command enough for them to obey with ease, albeit with a few snickers among them.

"That sounds delectable," Papa answers, his lips turning up in a slightly devilish smile, "After you, amico." He motions forward, encouraging you to move towards the door of the small side room with a polite duck of his head. "Sathanas knows I am eager to see you... work." He emphasizes the words a little more than necessary and follows close behind you, the heat of his chest emanating through his suit as his thumbs hook into the corner of his pants' belt loops. His confident stride gets the two of you to the small side room without attracting attention, and you manage to slip through the door with ease, unnoticed by the congregation.

As soon as the door closes and locks behind you with a click, you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding, moving to greet the cold stone of the small altar with your palms. You wear no gloves, and the stone is worn and smooth under you. Papa's warm hand on the small of your back startles you. He speaks and leans into you ever so slightly, using his head to nudge your cheek a bit, his thigh sliding between your legs and coming to rest right at the edge of the desk.

"There's a table, a pew, the altar... do you have a preference for where this takes place?" His breath is intoxicating. The smell of incense and dark coffee envelop you as he continues his soft purr of a question, tapping his fingertips in a steady metronome in the center of your back, matching the thrumming beat of your heart. "At this point any surface will allow a good frolic, yes? You seem so pent up, amico." He chuckles, dipping his head forward to gently kiss and then graze the smooth side of your cheek.

"Mm, no preference. Unless...?" You allow the question to linger, waiting until you feel Copia shake his head behind you. He has no preference either, it seems... 

That makes this easy.

When Copia presses himself against you again you move quickly, your hand moving from the top of the altar stone to his wrist and gripping tightly. Before he can make a sound of surprise you've moved him, pivoting yourself away from him while pushing him down to his knees. His eyes are wide with surprise but he recovers quickly, to his credit, lips curling upward with a wicked smile.

"Bit forward, are you?"

"If that's alright." His gaze breaks from yours, scanning your body intently as he takes in the clear bulge that you're pitching in your slacks-- just waiting to feel his mouth around it. Copia nods sharply and allows himself to be pressed back by the hands on his shoulders. Your hips fall between his hands before he reaches you, causing him to freeze and allow you to lower yourself down slowly to his mouth. He inhales sharply, nostrils flaring as you lower your bulge to his face.

From this angle it's easy to frame his painted features between the V of your thighs. He holds his bottom lip between his teeth and leans forward, nuzzling the silky fabric against his cheeks as he sighs with desire. Miraculously, almost none of the white face paint transfers to the deep black of your pants, but it seems Copia isn't willing to press his luck on it. He waits for you to nod your head again before reaching forward and unbuttoning your pants with delicate ease, even through the thick leather gloves. 

"I've thought about this, you know," you mention, leaning back onto the stone altar with both hands and allowing yourself to rest your weight on it. Copia's eyes flick up to yours in quick curiosity before returning to the junction of your pants, where the hem of your underwear was visible. Papa's lips, still upturned in a mischievous smirk, close over the fabric of your pants right above the jutting line of your cock in the fabric, just enough to tease you. The plush cushion of his full bottom lip drags against the tight fabric in such a way that there's no way you could stifle a whimper, but when you do, the audible reaction makes his eyelashes flutter.

"Oh, I know. Do you remember anything specific, uemo bello?" 

"One of them involved me cumming down your throat, now that you mention it," you joke, rolling your hips forward and dropping a hand down onto his slicked back hair. His tongue flashes at the corner of his lips, desire and yearning blazing hot in his eyes. "Take me out," the command leaves your lips before your brain registers what you've said, but Papa is almost quicker to obey. He brings his wrist up to his mouth, biting at the leather of his glove and tugging until it pulls free of each of his fingers in turn, allowing it to drop down to the floor with a soft sound. With his hands finally free he reaches towards you and grips your cock, pulling it free of the tacky fabric clinging to you. "Fuc-K," you hiss when his lips kiss the tip of your cock, tongue flicking out to lick a bead of free rolling pre-cum.

Copia hums his approval, letting his tongue flatten against your crown to drag the tip all the way down the sides of your shaft to the base, his eyes looking up at you with a hint of mischief behind them. When his mouth closes around your cock your hips rock forward, pressing further into his mouth a barely contained thrust. He gasps at the sudden movement before relaxing into it, your hand clenching around a fistful of his short, jet black hair.

It's surprisingly soft.

As you're struck with another sharp pang of arousal, he chokes slightly and sinks the first inch of your cock into his throat, resting his now-free hand on the swell of his thigh, rubbing the bulge underneath the tight cloth. The groan he lets out goes directly to your core and you watch as his eyes flutter closed in enjoyment. From between your legs you can see his excitement is being tamped down with his own hand, and even the small noise of his own whine causes your hand to clench his hair even tighter, seeking stability.

"Convince me you want this." You grip his hair tight, pulling his head away from your cock until just the head rests against his lips. "You said you knew? Prove it." Without hesitation he splays his legs further, sinking down onto his haunches as his hand spreads flat across his cock through his pants. Copia's lips tighten around your cock and he presses against the force of your hand until his nose is buried in the small thatch of pubic hair above your cock. You groan at the sight of him on the ground for you, kneeling and willing.

Hollowing his cheeks slightly, his tongue moves wet and heavy, lathing at the underside of your cock in a way that has your legs shaking with need. You tip your head back and breathe, finding the ceiling quite fascinating at the moment-- anything to keep from cumming so soon... not before one other thought you wanted to act out. Copia's pleased noise as he frees his cock from his pants drags you from your momentary lapse and pulls your attention back to the unholy reality in front of you:

On his knees and worshiping at the altar that is you.

Death, reversed.

Spit drips wet and slippery down your cock and you can't stop yourself from dropping a hand to rest on the crown of his head again, fingernails pressing, urging, pushing him to take you deeper. He gags when the head of your cock bumps against the back of your throat and the sound drives something primal in you. Your hands move to Papa's upper arms, pulling him to his feet before turning him towards the altar and pressing him against it. It takes a moment of fussing with the corseting at the front of his pants before you're able to pull them down his hips to tangle at his thighs. 

Your spit slickened cock slips between his legs with ease as you fold yourself against him, one arm wrapping around his waist to grip his hardened cock and the other on his waist. He responds to the new stimulation by canting his hips forward and allowing you to slide your length through the slippery heat, the friction of  the head of your cock splitting his thighs and dragging against the side of his balls, sending him back into your chest with an aroused grunt. You watch his fingers tighten against the edge of the altar stone, 

The feel of your breath on the bare skin of his neck combined with the intense heat of your cock slipping between his thighs is almost too much for Copia to handle. His head is foggy with desire, each neuron alight with want and need, aching for your touch. All of this from a chance meeting that just so happened to end in your favor.  A particularly torturous flick of your wrist against the bulbous head of his cock coupled with a harsh grunt as you thrust leaves him leaking pearls of pre-cum, sliding slowly through the hair of his lower belly. 

"Bold of you to debase yourself like this with me, Papa, so close to your congregation. What would the sheep think of the shepherd?" you taunt, laying your chin gently against his shoulder so that you can whisper into his ear. A chill racks his body and he shudders out a breath, hips pressing against your hand in a desperate need for faster friction. 

"They would think... That I am- hff!- 'getting some'," he finishes with a laugh. He whines again when you thrust against him, canting your hips upwards into his ass and watching his lips part with a pleasured sigh. You oblige his desire for more, more, more, and grip his cock tighter in the palm of your slick hand, reveling in the sounds that the connection affords you-- slick and unmistakably skin on skin in the midst of the heat of pleasure.

"And how do you like it?" Your lips meet the shell of his ear and you breathe out shakily, almost too absorbed in your own pleasure to notice his response, which only comes when you press an almost chaste kiss to the pulsing vein in his neck.

"I feel- like a whore," he gets out with a groan, cutting himself off with widened eyes over his shoulder towards the door. You move to block his view from it, angling your shoulder into his line of sight and thrusting harder. Your cock slips against his perfectly in time with the motion of your hand as you drag moans from the man, his regal and hard-won attitude melting in front of you as he gets closer to cumming.

"I would agree, your Eminence," you whisper to him as a giggle of pleasure bubbles up out of his throat. He takes a moment to laugh outright, burying the sounds in his arm on the stone. His hips arch back into yours as he bends, the head of your cock brushing deliciously along the sensitive skin between his legs. You can't see his face from this angle, but this view is almost infinitely better-- you can see his cheeks spread by the curvature of his body, exposing his perfect asshole.

A sharp thrill of excitement moves you forward and you bring your free hand down to Copia's mouth, pausing in stroking him. His tongue flicks out and leaves hot, wet stripes against the pads of your fingers, rolling his hips against you. With each backwards motion he's allowing you to grind your cock against him in time with the pumps of your hand, timing it all, practically masturbating you through this new form of the act. The realization causes your cock to throb in time with the frantic pace of your heart, just waiting for release--

Waiting for him to invite you into his body in whatever way he chooses... It won't matter what you do. From a faux-handjob, to frotting, to any penetrative method, you know the end will be the same when his soft lips are wearing that handsome smile and he's cumming into your palm. You want nothing more than to be witness to that sight.

"I'm- close, tesoro." His admission shakes you out of your own thoughts and you nip at his neck again, rolling your hips perfectly in time with his. The finger he licked drops free of his mouth when he speaks and you waste no time in bringing it to his ass, pressing against his entrance gently and running the tip of your finger in tantalizing circles around it. You wait for him to nod a "go ahead," before sinking the finger in down to the knuckle, groaning into his back as he spasms and bucks around you.

"I was... thinking..." you hiss out between a slow inhale, pulling the tip of your finger out before thrusting it back in. Each motion grinds your cock between the strength of his upper thighs, the sound of precum slicking between the two of you only heightening your sudden confidence. "That I'm wanting... to cum inside you, tonight." Copia chokes on a moan at the words, his ass bearing down on your fingers as you add another, teasing him open with every twist and curl of your fingers. You don't trust your cock at this stage-- you're too sensitive, strung out on the touch of his skin as much as the arousal that's been building for a week now. If you slide into him now, you'll paint his pretty insides almost instantly.

"It's been a while, but I suppose it could be you... Do you want to fuck your Papa?" Papa's voice echoes off the stone walls, filling the small room and giving each breathy gasp even more power. The strength of his lust in combination with the obvious yearning sends jolts of pure pleasure through your skin in a trail that leads straight to your cock. Copia shivers again, thrusting back onto your fingers with a delicious twist of his ass, allowing the hard muscle inside of him to clench and bear down on your hand. He rolls his hips again, causing you to groan. You flex your fingers inside of him and bite hard at his shoulder to cut yourself off as your balls tighten. This has to happen soon, if it's going to happen at all.

You pull back and separate yourself from him, to a hiss of disapproval from Papa and almost from yourself. With the overwhelming sensation of the pleasure of his thighs around your cock finally gone, you have the presence of mind to think for a moment... and realize what you're doing. You're about to fuck Papa Emeritus the Fourth in a small side rectory away from a bustling funeral that you set up and tended to.

And no one knows.

You could do anything. 

Instead you pause for a second and stare at his partially turned back, the bottom of his dress shirt ruffled up and the lacing in the front of his pants coming loose to expose the lewd scene of Copia's cock sticking up at full attention. Something about the sight of the man that you want literally dripping with need and desire is enough for the anxiety to bleed out of your veins and be replaced by a surge of unbridled lust.

Copia's knees wobble slightly before he brings his own hand to replace yours around his length, his fingers pressing against his cock in an almost bored way... Like he's comfortable touching himself like this. He's made of need and emotion and you realize that this whole morning the two of you were merely dancing around your shared attraction-- it's obvious by the way he's looking at you as you press against his entrance, prodding and resisting the urge to slide inside of him with no notice.

"Do it, we might not have long before someone comes looking," Papa says in a low tone, pushing his hips back into yours.

"But Papa-" you start to protest, but he cuts you off by reaching his hand towards your cock and beginning to slowly ease you inside. Each inch that your cock sinks into him has your vision blurring until you have to still yourself fully to catch your breath and will yourself not to cum. Your eyes flutter open, struggling to keep them focused on the curve of his back... then back up to his face. Copia sighs at the now overstimulating fullness, twisting his head so that he can half glance at you over his shoulder. He smirks as you bottom out, sliding your cock completely into him. He feels so tight, you gasp a little and let your breath catch, allowing your brain to register the situation.

"I pictured this, you know? When I met you," he admits with a strained voice, laughing before fully bending over the stone altar. You react quickly to his movement, shuffling forward enough to lean over him and brace yourself on the edge of the altar. His ass is warm around your cock and you can practically feel his heartbeat, fast and erratic. Papa breathes out a deep sigh before rocking back against you and groaning. "Get a move on, then, you're still my employee."

"You let your employees fuck you in the ass?" you ask, emboldened by your current position. Copia barks a laugh before he can catch himself, caught off guard with your sassy remark.

"When they ask nicely."

"Oh, I'm not asking." You snap your hips against him, having given him enough time to adjust to your size. Copia grunts and rides up on the altar slightly, reaching his arms across the stone to grip the other side of it. Another few thrusts and you let go of the altar with your left hand, snaking it up Copia's arm to tangle in his hair again. "I'm taking." Your fingers clench tight, bracing him against the altar while a cry of startled pleasure leaves his lips. A devious smirk crosses your lips and your other hand wraps tightly around Copia's hip, fingers digging into the flesh just shy of painful, fingertips pressing into the cut of his hip bone-- hard enough to form bruises that'll be dark in the morning. Imagining that he has no self control, as he lets you use his body like a common whore, causes a burning heat to rise in your belly and almost knock your knees out from underneath you. 

"Oh Sathanas..." Papa moans as his cheek scrapes against the altar, skin catching on the slick black tablecloth. You know that his sweat will transfer the paint to the altar cloth and no doubt leave evidence of your crimes, but the two of you are well past caring at this point. After one more grueling squeeze to his hip bone you drop your free hand to his cock, taking him in your hand and stroking him roughly. The groan that leaves his mouth in response is pure sin-- lust incarnate, if you're feeling poetic and so inclined. You can see him pressing his knuckles into the stone altar and letting out breathy, stifled moans that grow louder with each passing second. His pale flesh is flushed a pink just beneath the surface, and with each thrust your length is sliding against the bundle of nerves in his ass. All you care about is the fact that Papa's insides keep tightening around you.

It's almost enough to push you over the edge.

Almost.

It takes a little more teasing, more tightening of your fingers through his hair, before your cock begins pulsing and your rhythm starts to falter. Your cock slides perfectly in his ass as you close in on an orgasm, your thrusts becoming more erratic by the second. Papa's own hand raises to yours around his cock and he grips it tightly, pulling your palm closer so that you can catch his cum in your hand. The slapping sounds of the two of you are obscene, thick and wet and covered in sweat and pre-cum by the time he finally releases into your palm. His cum shoots across the floor and the pants that are bunched up at his knees, no doubt leaving a spot of moisture where it will be seen by anyone who sees him-- the idea makes you grin to yourself. 

He's yours now.

Papa pushes off of the altar stone with his hand and twists slightly, allowing you to pump your hips once, twice, again... and paint his insides just as you wanted to, grinding his hips back down against the altar as you groan and throw your head back. The angle of your hips presses your cock further inside of him and he squeezes you tighter, milking the last drops of your orgasm into him, your thighs trembling. By the time you're done cumming and shaking above him he's almost limp against the altar, bent over with a hand flat against the stone. His cum trails down your cock and your hand, creating a small puddle under his boot-clad feet on the floor.

His tiredness seems to meld with your own, allowing you to pull out of him, leaving him dripping slowly onto the black stone. "A good boy, si? Clean your mess," Copia teases with a lazy roll of his hand, turning his shoulders so that he can wiggle his eyebrows at you. You snort a quiet laugh and turn your attention to doing up your own pants, allowing him a modicum of privacy to get himself presentable again. 

"I suppose I should leave first?" you question, moving towards the door.

"Wait!" Papa turns to you, blotting at his lips with the side of his hand, already gloved once more. "If you have a queen bed, we would have more privacy in your chambers, I think." You wait a beat too long before Copia clarifies, "If you want to do this again, that is." You almost guffaw at the statement.

As if you wouldn't want to bury yourself in that every chance you get.

"I would love to, but-" You pause to consider how to proceed as Copia gets himself together, straightening his slacks and pulling his belt taught before giving a small thumbs up to his clothing. "I've only got a full size mattress. Not a queen." Copia frowns briefly before waving a hand, dismissing your worry. 

"We'll fit." He glances towards the door after giving you a once-over. "We both look decent, eh? Besides the makeup but... Cardinal Tremaine was a close friend, you know?" He tilts his head towards you and laughs a little. "Just follow me out and play along."

"As you wish, your Eminence." You grin is cocksure and smarmy, and Copia doesn't miss it, rolling his eyes at you good naturedly. He moves towards the door of the small rectory and starts to speak as he opens it, saying,

"Yes, that seems to be a decent bill for this sort of service. I think that payment can be arranged if we go through the proper Abbey channels, eh?" The two of you walk out one after the other, and you manage to play along well enough that no one seems to notice. 

"Perhaps a direct deposit from you, Papa?" you suggest, clearing your throat in an attempt to conceal a laugh. He shoots you an incredulous look before turning to say,

"That could be arranged, I think. But! Poor Cardinal Tremaine, hm?" He hides his true intent of the words well, while playing the grieving leading figure to perfection... even managing to give a small and sincere looking bow of his head, for which the room titters with approval, thinking it charming. You want to laugh--

But you don't.

After all, it wouldn't do to spoil dinner.

#the band ghost fics #the band ghost ficlet #ghost bc fanfic #papa emeritus #lorraine writes #cardinal copia #copia #popia #papa emeritus iv #papa iv #papa 4 #era 4 #reader x papa #reader x papa emeritus #reader x copia

[adultswim2021]

The Drinky Crow Show #11: “Peace” | January 26, 2009 - 12:15AM | S01E10

War is over! Drinky and Gabby can return home and finally become Family Guys. Drinky goes back to his Lois and finds that she’s laid a bunch of Megs (eggs); dashing his plans for a better life of not having children. Gabby finds a Lois on the street that willingly re-enacts that famous photo of Lisa Simpson being kissed from the end of Bart the General. She’s a disreputable woman who slips something in Gabby’s drink, causing him to hallucinate French soldiers overrunning the streets. He goes on a killing spree, killing many of his fellow vets. He also fires a cannonball into the air, which we see flying through the background of many scenes. 

Drinky is very depressed being forced to do expecting dad shit. Gabby winds up on the more-exciting track as a career criminal. He winds up trying to please a pair of jet-setting tomb-raiders who crave a hitman who can deliver a poetic revenge kill. Gabby’s methods are too low-brow for them, causing him to enlist Drinky’s help, who helps him step up his creativity. They wind up capturing the tomb raiding couple’s adversaries and connecting them to a complicated murder machine which involves urethra pinching.

Gabby has a funny plan that backfires; he poisons his targets and then injects their fingers with the antidote, thinking that they will have to eat their own fingers to get the antidote. They are quick to point out that eating the fingers won’t be necessary, since the antidote is still inside them, and working its way into their bloodstream as they speak.

Since Drinky helps Gabby, it’s only fair Gabby return the favor. Gabby helps Drinky get drunk at the baby shower, which causes him to cook his then-unhatched babies into an omelet. As trouble mounts for the duo, the previously-seen cannonball disrupts the signing of the official peace treaty. War’s back on, so luckily our plucky duo now have an excuse to flee back into combat. The final scene shows Drinky, Gabby, and a French combatant all uniting to flee their respective wives, who interrupt the war to chase them on a speedboat, each sitting atop a pile of freshly-laid eggs.

This one has at least one reference to a previous episode; when Gabby goes to jail he’s seen sitting next to the ogre whose part of a trio of conjoined triplets. That’s from the episode Organs. There might have been other references to previous episodes, but I’m too stupid to have picked them out. 

That’s The Drinky Crow Show. I had seen only a handful of episodes before this project, and I think I have a newfound appreciation for it. The pilot episode still grates on me; the animation is too awful. The animation was markedly better in the series, thank god. I grew to appreciate Gabby’s voice, even though I initially criticized it for being too cartoony. I wish they got to do a second season. I wonder if Dino ever tried to pitch Millionaire and co. on trying to do this show as a stop-motion show? Sorry, that’s just a stray thought that just occurred to me while I was cleaning my suicide gun just now. I wish I could expand on it, but duty calls. Bye bye and RIP to me

MAIL BAG

I guess I won't be killing myself today. I have mail to answer. From KON!

Please hate Robot Chicken more, I implore you! It sucks so much!!!

That episode mostly bored me, and the only joke I outright hated was "rape shoes", and I didn't want to sound woke by complaining about it lol :( I basically just didn't write about "rape shoes" can you blame me???

review all the mst3k episodes

Too hard!!

#adult swim #adultswim2021 #the drinky crow show

[adelaidedrubman]

Local vampire John Seed has begun to accept a dreadful truth about immortality — it’s incredibly boring. Every night, every feeding, every century feels the same as the last. Until a delightfully untamed werewolf wanders into the isolated wilderness of Hope County to break up the monotony, brighten his world, and bring some life back into being undead. Now he just needs to convince her to allow him to take her under his wing. also available on ao3.

notes: vampire!john/werewolf!jestiny. this is a repost of a supernatural au fic i posted last halloween and then deleted during a category five girl moment, with some important revisions and bonus content. i hope to dig up and revise the rest of the series as well before the month’s end! mostly all parody. 

wordcount: 4.8k

warnings: john is both vampire creepy and regular creepy. references to stalking behavior. emotional manipulation (ship standard plus vampire power enhanced). a little blood and violence (nothing serious). some brief sexual content (all john’s internal musings, but he’s specific). werewolf jessie’s lack of socialization can at times read as born sexy yesterday adjacent. obnoxious number of vampire media references. 

“Perhaps I could offer you just a bit of friendly advice before you go in there?” 

The redhead’s hackles raised just as John expected. She froze in place, toned shoulders tensing and arching upward and thin ginger hairs catching sunlight as they stood straightened upward along the back of her neck following his introduction from the shadows. He pressed flush against the side of the building, slinking in the cast of its shadow to join her under the cover of the bar’s awning before she could finish reaching for its front door. 

She turned — slowly, cautiously, and with canines barred. Her cute little upturned nose twitched as she studied him, trying to find his scent. 

She gradually lowered her top lip over the whites of her teeth as she took in his form: thoroughly human, and leaning against the wood siding casually, non-threateningly. 

Her chest rumbled with something between a growl and a clearing of her throat. 

“What do you fuckin’ —” her tongue stilled in her mouth, likely clumsy from disuse, and her words textured with rough gravel despite her sharp, ringing pitch. She gave another half-growled cough before trying again. “Who the fuck are you? Why are fucking talkin’ to me?” 

John stepped forward, making sure to do so slowly, and with hands behind his back, keeping his head bowed to the side with exposed neck displayed in a sign of submission, so as not to frighten her. He flashed her a closed mouth smile, willing gentleness into his eyes before speaking. 

“Think of me as a friend,” he said, carefully extending an open hand towards her once satisfied she wouldn’t retreat. “My name is John. And you are…?” 

Her eyes narrowed, honing in on him as she jerked her head forward to hover even with his hand. This close, he could finally make out their warm, bright amber shade, seeming to dance with the lively golden rays of every sunset he’d ever missed for the past two hundred years. She kept those fiery golds locked on him as she leaned in to give his outstretched palm a quick sniff, making no effort to take it in her own. 

Oh my, he thought, she really was out of practice. It must have been quite some time since she’d ventured into civilized society. John reflexively licked his lips at the thought, flicking eyes down to the sharpened points of her claws. 

“Well, what the fuck do you want, John?” she snapped back without answering his question, subtle snarl quivering along her plump upper lip. 

He willed himself to keep his smile light, not allowing it to twist into an amused smirk. She’d clearly identified something in his scent she didn’t trust, but had yet to figure out exactly what it meant. 

“As I stated,” he purred, slow and syrupy thick with pause as he savored the opportunity to admire that flaming red hair up close. God, she must have the most gorgeous russet coat when fully transformed, it was a shame he hadn’t caught her in a completed wolf form yet. “I’d like to give you some friendly advice.” 

“Well, John,” she spat, an extra growl rumbling through the syllable of his name as she swung her arm forward to reach for the handle of the door again. “I’m not fuckin’ interested in your friendship, or whatever fuckin’ advice you have to —” 

“I’d like to warn you,” he interrupted, flinging back his own arm to drape across the threshold, throwing every bit of otherworldly strength into the deceptively casual resting of his fingertips against wood to keep the door shut tight as she tugged at the handle, “that you’re not going to pass for human if you go in there looking like that.” 

She gave one last yank to the handle before leaping back in shock. “W-What the fuck are you talkin’ about, you fucking weirdo?” 

“Come now, don’t play dumb. You’re certainly not hiding anything from me,” he replied calmly, finally allowing curved lips to part with a widening of his smile, revealing the sharp points of his own incisors. 

Her jaw snapped shut with a click of her teeth and another rumbling growl as she processed, amber eyes alight with sudden understanding, subtle musk of fear reaching his nose before she could react to conceal it. 

He grinned. It was a lovely moment of recognition he’d quite been looking forward to. 

He’d watched the little wolf girl from the shadows for some time now as she stalked around the outskirts of town, working her way up to entering it properly. 

And he couldn’t say exactly when it happened. 

But he thought it was at some point between watching her dig up every flower bed at the Jessop Conservatory then clawing out a hole deep enough to curl up and fall asleep in and watching her run half human, half wolf, and completely naked through the open range of the Woodson Pig Farm dragging a hog in her mouth, blood dripping down her chest as she sprinted, that he decided he simply must have her. 

“I’m only trying to help, my dear,” he added sweetly, stepping to the side to block the door with his body, now face to face with her. 

“I am not your fucking dear,” she barked back, her words articulated with more precision as she gained practiced and the driving motivation of anger. “I’m not your friend, I’m not your dear, and I’m not fuckin’ interested in hearing any advice on humanity from some undead creep.” 

He gave no response to the insult, instead pausing to drink in the cadence of her speech. As she eased back into the practice of speaking the language, he could hear a certain accented twang begin to color her words. Appalachian, he thought. But an older version of the dialect he hadn’t heard in centuries, lilt of the original Scotch-Irish ringing through. 

He’d always heard there were packs roaming the still isolated expanses of those hills with bloodlines that could be traced back long before the first vampire ever risked sailing the seas to the New World, but he’d never imagined he would meet one. 

And what was the little creature doing all the way out here, anyways? And wandering around on her own trying to enter a human town? It was all so intriguing. 

Yes, he simply had to have her. 

“That means get the fuck out of my way, asshole,” she added with a quick flash of her canines and a forward lunge. 

“If you so insist,” he sighed, moving away from the door by stepping forward, into her space, rather than to the side the way he was sure she would have preferred. “Although, I fear I really should warn you first…” he trailed off, casting eyes to the side coyly as he creeped infinitesimally closer.

He was close enough now to feel her animal warmth, the creature radiating enough powerful heat to flood the stale air between them until it was sweltering with life against his own pale flesh, as if he were by some miracle once again being kissed by the loving caress of the sun after all these years. And the soft copper down of her coat shone with every beam that creeped past the awning to leak onto the patio, reflecting it back to grace his eyes with the sparkle of indirect sunlight as beautiful as he’d ever managed to catch. 

God, it really was like being in the presence of the sun again, so warm and bright and beautiful. She was his own little ball of sunshine. 

“You should get the fuck out of my way before I decide to shove my fist so far up your ass you’ll have a fucking heartbeat again.” 

Silly wolf girl, he already felt as if he did. 

“And quit fuckin’ doing that thing where you drop a hint and wait, like you want me to ask what,” she snapped, taking a quick step to the side, then behind him reaching for the door handle. “I’m not gonna ask what, I’m not fuckin’ interested in anything you have to say, and if you’re gonna fucking say it anyways just hurry up and —” 

“I’ll come right out with it, then,” he finished for her with a flourish of his hand, interrupting her attempt to open the door in the same beat by leaning his shoulder against it, then slumping into the posture to even their heights. “I feel I should warn you, the Fairgraves are a very superstitious family,” he said, pointing an index towards the bouquets of dried garlic flowers and wolfsbane entwined and hung from the windows. “Mary May in particular has had the good sense to never once invite me to come inside the establishment. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a full round of silver bullets at the ready to load into her gun the moment someone steps into her bar looking like you.” 

She inched back, nose crinkled in a show of aggression but lips still pulled down over her teeth. He watched with satisfaction as her eyes followed the point of his finger, considering his words as her eyes settled on the wards he’d gestured to. 

“What’s wrong with how I fucking look?” she grumbled, head lowering in momentary surrender. 

“Oh, to my vampire eyes, nothing,” he reassured, finally allowing them a luxuriantly conspicuous roam along every inch of her form. “In fact, I would consider you one of the most breathtakingly gorgeous creatures I’ve ever —” 

“The fucking point, John.” 

“But from a human perspective, however,” he continued accommodatingly, holding up a hand to signal pause before bringing it up towards her thick copper mane, unable to resist giving the locks a few careful strokes. “For starters, this lovely hair of yours is terribly matted, and humans are rather fond of washing and brushing theirs.” 

“Oh, excuse me for not having the aesthetic fucking sensibility to smother it in gel, since that’s apparently —” 

“Not to mention you’re not wearing shoes, and they’re considered something of a necessity in polite society these days.” He tipped his head down, motioning towards her feet. 

“Well it’s a bar, not the fucking opera, I’m sure I won’t be the only one —”

“And then there’s the unfortunate matter of what you are wearing...” He swooped a hand downward to gesture along the length of the stiff dark wash denim shorts covering the woman from the waist to the end of her thighs, frayed hem tickling the tops of her knees. 

She looked down with a questioning cock of her head, ears twitching with genuine curiosity. 

“These?” she asked, slapping hands atop her denim clad thighs. “You got a problem with my fuckin’ shorts now?”

“Those,” he spat, jabbing a finger towards the offending item, “are not shorts,” he stated, his words as firm as the thick starched material he pointed to. “Those —” he paused, a shudder of revulsion ripping through him, “are jorts.”

She flexed her jaw as she lifted her head to set narrowed eyes on his face, hooking thumbs through her belt loops and tugging upward. “Well what’s fucking wrong with that?”

“The mere fact you don’t know tells me just how out of touch with human sensibilities you are.”

“Okay, so maybe people don’t think they’re cool anymore —”

“People never thought they were cool,” he said gravely, shaking head heavy with pity and dismay. “Of all the things I’ve witnessed through the ages — empires rising and falling, human inventions to rival the most powerful magic, discoveries that shook generations, the unending entropy of the universe! Never — during any of it — the entirety of the centuries I’ve walked the earth, have jorts ever been cool.” 

“— and besides, I’m not taking fucking human fashion advice from someone wearing a cape with little planes on it, like a fucking kid playing superhero dress up!” 

“It’s my flying cape. Airplanes are a hobby of mine, a passion humans find quite endearing —” 

“And even if my clothes aren’t cool!” she shouted in interruption, baring her fangs as she bit the words out. “It’s not like they’re enough for people to think I’m not a completely normal human!”

“Perhaps not,” he granted, softening his tone and pausing to catch his breath and regain composure. “But the fact you’ve neglected to fully finish your transformation certainly will.” 

He reached for her hand before she had the chance to belt out more arguments, pulling it to hold between them. 

“Just look,” he tsked, stroking a thumb along the thick bristle of fur poking from her knuckles. “Your claws are far from retracted, and you still have a noticeable bit of fur here that I’m afraid simply doesn’t look natural for a human woman,” he explained, finally trying his luck with a quick brush of his lips to kiss the fur covered knuckles. 

She jerked the hand away with a snap of her teeth, claws extending further. She gave him a quick growl before looking down at her paws thoughtfully, angry rumble fading into an annoyed huff. 

“How much is — How much hair is a human woman supposed to have?” she asked, trailing eyes along his fully bearded jawline with apparent confusion. 

He perked up, stroking his whiskers as he answered. “Well, that’s somewhat a matter of ever evolving cultural standards and personal aesthetic preference. It’s been a rather thrilling series of trends to witness over the years, if I do say so myself,” he offered thoughtfully, lowering his hand towards his chest in self-referential gesture. “I for one appreciate anything on the spectrum, from full bush to hairless, although I’m particularly fond of some subtle trimming to really sculpt —” 

“You know what,” she barked, pushing him to the side. “I think I’ll just take my chances in there. Silver bullet’s better than this conversation.” 

John stiffened, cold panic racing up his spine. “I seriously wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned, lowering his tone. “At least allow me to find you some shoes. Or more attractive bottoms.” 

“Pass,” she spat back, waving him off and reaching for the door. 

“Wait,” he called out authoritatively, holding a hand with outstretched fingers in front of her face to signal pause. 

Fuck, he’d really hoped he could do this without having to hypnotize her, but he supposed that’s what he got for getting sidetracked discussing personal grooming. 

“You don’t want to go in there,” he said, soothing but clear and firm, waving fingers in a tight, subtle circle in front of her face. He was relieved to see her eyes carefully following his movements, the ridges and furrows of tension on her face loosening and slackening. “You know that it would be dangerous to go in there,” he continued, amber eyes now pinpoint focused on the movement of his hand. “You’re going to let me take you home and show you — aaah!” 

The motion of his hand was abruptly halted as she lunged forward with jaw unhinged and captured index and middle fingers between her teeth before snapping her maw shut tight. 

John attempted to jerk the hand back, only succeeding in further scraping teeth along the skin, slicing along tendons. 

Her eyes shot up to look at him with that same pinpoint focus, lips curling outward to display the now bloody teeth buried in his flesh and sinking deeper as her throat rumbled with a low growl that vibrated up through the sharp points of her canines to spark fresh hurt where they punctured him. 

His own animalistic impulses snapped to the surface as a sensation of undiluted pain he hadn’t truly felt for centuries now flooded his senses, causing him to instinctively bare his own fangs with a forward thrust of his neck and a long, piercing hiss whooshing between the sharpened teeth. 

But the show of aggression only caused her to sink teeth deeper and let out a lower, more threatening growl. 

To which he pushed up air from lungs in an even stronger gust to let out a more piercing hiss. 

Undeterred, she met him with a louder, quaking growl and a slight back and forth shake of her head as she clamped down on his fingers, like a dog refusing to let go of a bone. And he sucked down a fuller breath of air to her off with a longer, more shrieking hiss. 

And they continued like this for some time, taking turns growling and hissing with his fingers caught between her teeth. 

(In retrospect, he would frankly find himself surprised that the exceptionally conspicuous racket didn’t cause Mary May Fairgrave to simply run outside firing silver bullets and brandishing a stake at the commotion, slaughtering them both right then and there.) 

But finally, once the red wolf’s mouth had begun to overflow with thick crimson that dribbled down her chin, she unhinged her jaw to let him jerk the wounded fingers back to nurse with his own mouth while she spat the remainder of his blood onto the patio with apparent disgust. 

“You bit me!” he cried indignantly once his faculty for language returned, holding up the two fingers to display the puncture wounds that were gradually shrinking as skin knit together in healing — much more slowly than a��normal wound would heal, he might add, the accursed beast. 

“You tried to hypnotize me!” she shouted back, a bit of his own blood flying to splatter along his chest with her spittle. 

“Would you have rather I let you get killed?” 

“YES!” she screamed, chest puffing and heaving with the exclamation, making him worry the whole thing would devolve into another growling and hissing fit. 

Instead, he calmly raised a defensive hand and took a step back in a signal of retreat. 

“You’re right,” he said softly, lowering his hand when she turned to growl at it with a look of bitter suspicion. “I shouldn’t have tried to hypnotize you. But I really didn’t want you to go in there and put yourself in danger.” 

“Like I’m not in danger out here with you,” she snapped back. 

“You’re not,” he said, taking a step towards her with the same hands behind back, neck exposed stance he’d first approached her with. “I can help you.” 

“I don’t need any fucking —” 

“You don’t have a pack, do you?” he asked bluntly, hungry eyes eagerly drinking up her reaction. “How long has it been since you were with one?” 

“That’s frankly none of your goddamn business.” 

“Perhaps not, but I can tell you’ve been on your own for a good while,” he responded, gliding forward a step to make up the distance she’d jumped back, moving away from the entrance to the bar. “And whatever pack you come from is  a long way from here, isn’t it?” 

Her eyes fell at that, despondent. Reminded of just how lonely she was, he was sure. “Maybe,” she muttered under her breath, taking another slow step backward but no longer leaping with a mind towards running. 

“I imagine it’s terribly difficult trying to survive as one lonely little wolf girl, all out her own,” he cooed, softening his eyes with a gentle sympathy as he inched closer. “And how long has it been since you’ve lived among humans, for that matter?” 

“It’s been a minute,” she admitted with teeth pinching her lower lip, scooting back again, by a shorter distance this time, so that he was allowed to gradually maintain proximity, setting a pace to the dance. 

God, and if that were true, how long could it have been since she’d been touched by someone who really knew what they were doing? But he knew that wasn’t the question to ask just yet. 

“And whatever is bringing you to human society now, after so long as a lone wolf?” he asked, taking another step forward. 

“There’s —” her lips now quivered with an emotion much more human than the animalistic fury they’d trembled with previously, amber eyes darting towards his face in search of sympathetic understanding. Which he happily provided with a reassuring smile, patiently waiting for her to continue. She eyed the distance between them, taking a tiny, obligatory step back before continuing. “There’s a human I’m looking for. Someone I used to know, and owe something to.” 

If it was an old flame she was seeking out he’d certainly have to drain them of life before there was any risk of reconnection, but he’d keep that to himself for now, too. 

“Let me help you, then,” he offered, with another evenly paced move forward. “I’m well assimilated into human society. And my home is just to the southwest of here, just before you hit the river. Stay with me — for no more than a week, unless you decide you’d like to remain longer. And I will… guide you. Help you remember all those little…” he paused, searching for the right words to artfully convey the extent of his meaning, “... human details.” 

Fuck, he could practically feel his tongue tingle already with how good she was going to taste. He might have tried to take her right then and there if they hadn’t already been conspicuously loud. 

“What’s in it for you…?” she questioned with a dying hint of skepticism, raising an auburn brow in an effort at displaying suspicion despite the almost pleading look in her eyes, staying locked in place rather than inching back this time. 

“I’m merely trying to help a creature in need,” he purred, experimentally raising a hand, bringing it closer to her face when she didn’t flinch. 

God, he could practically feel it all now — her claws digging into his back in perfect synch with his teeth sinking into her neck, opening each other up as he entered her. Their bodies moving together in a masterful, bloody symphony, completely connected. It would be delicious. 

“Let me take care of you,” he pleaded softly, bringing his palm to her cheek and cupping it. 

Upon seeing that she remained in place, not shirking from the touch, he shifted the hand to stroke a thumb along her lips, barely pressing against the point of a canine still worrying there. The rosy expanse of skin spread soothing, exhilarating warmth along the creased flesh of his palm, while the back of his hand blistered with searing, excruciating pain. 

“Fuck!” he cursed as he jerked his (now sizzling) hand away from her for the second time that day, inspecting the festering sores forming where sunlight scorched him — the result of his thoughtlessly reaching out to stroke her cheek without realizing she’d retreated far enough to stand just beyond the protection of the bar’s awning. 

The little wolf girl now barked with laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubled over and pointed at the sight of him dumbly cradling his injured hand. 

“Ah man, I did not think you were actually gonna fall for that!” she guffawed, wiping a tear from her eye. “I thought y’all were supposed to be all smart an’ shit,” she snorted, attempting to reign in her laughter. “Guess ya didn’t use the whole eternal life thing to actually learn anything, huh?” she taunted. 

He could only give a weak, offended hiss in reply. 

“But you win,” she chuckled, canine returning to its previous place pinching the plump of her lip as it stretched into a crooked grin. “I’ll take your deal. Now that I know you’re relatively harmless.” 

“Harmless?” he parroted, drawn out with incredulity. “I’m extending you an offer of kindness, but make no mistake — I am the world’s most dangerous predator,” he bit out. “You are safe with me because I’m keeping you safe, out of the goodness of my heart. But I am designed to kill. I have the strength to snap your neck with a single flick of my wrist, the fortitude to withstand any pitiful attack of yours that might slaughter a lesser creature, the power to bend your will to my every whim if I so choose, the —”

“You got tricks is all,” she replied dismissively. “But now you know I got ’em too,” she huffed with a wink, tilting her head towards the plume of smoke still wafting from the burned flesh of his hand. “Harmless.” 

He waved away the last of the smoke, lowering the hand and stiffening to tower over her. “How on earth you’ve managed to survive this long with such an obvious lack of self preservation is completely beyond —” 

“How the fuck you’ve managed to live for thousands of fuckin’ years and not get sick of hearing yourself talk is completely beyond me,” she interrupted with a roll of her eyes. 

John cleared his throat, dusting off the front of his clothing. “Centuries,” he corrected, holding his chin high. “I’ve only been around for a couple of centuries,” he stated plainly. “And I was only thirty two when I was turn —” 

“Good fuckin’ god, it feels like I’ve been having this goddamn conversation for centuries,” she shot back with a lazy rumble of a growl. “Does the fucking offer still stand or not?” she demanded, widening her stance and placing clawed hands at her hips. “You still wanna take me back to your creepy ass Dracula castle and teach me human stuff?” 

“The offer stands,” he confirmed, adding a slight hiss of anger to the words. “But it’s a ranch, not a castle, and I’m a vampire, Dracula was just one —” 

“Not human stuff, don’t really care to learn,” she shrugged. “And I do have a few ground rules.” 

John sighed, weighing very carefully in his mind the value of hot, vigorous, cross-species monster sex against the torment of constant insults, bitemarks, and third degree burns — scales ultimately still tipping in favor of the former as he reached for the hefty black umbrella at his waistband to open, emerging from beneath the awning and beginning to walk in the direction of his home. 

“What are your terms, my dear?” he asked, motioning for her to follow. 

“First,” she huffed with clawed index pointing upward as she jogged to catch up to him. “No more trying to fucking hypnotize me, or any of your other little vampire tricks.” 

“Very well,” he agreed pleasantly. “And?” 

“Stop fucking calling me ‘my dear,’” she added with a snarl. 

“I can also accept that term, conditioned on one of my own,” he replied, veering closer to the woman keeping pace strolling at his side, so that she was now with him beneath the arc of his umbrella. “You tell me what I should call you. I think this undertaking warrants us being on a first name basis, don’t you?” 

“I don’t,” she snapped, bounding forward to break past the perimeter of his umbrella’s shadow, as if flaunting her ability to bask in sunlight. “But if it staves off any more creepy ass pet names, you can call me Jessie.” 

“Jessie,” he purred, drawing out the ‘s’ sounds with a pleasant hiss, savoring the subtle music of the name passing through his lips. “Is there anything else that you desire from me then, Jessie?” 

“For our time together to be brief,” she chirped, turning to flash him a sarcastically sweet smile — the sight of shadows pooling in the dimples sinking into her cheeks making his chest flutter with warmth as if it still contained a beating heart all the same. “And for our conversations henceforth to be limited in duration and to the relevant fuckin’ topics.” 

“Oh, listen to you,” he taunted, gliding along faster to bring them side-by-side again. “Ten minutes around me and your mastery of the English language is already improving.” 

“My English is perfectly fuckin’ fine already, bastard,” she snarled. “Just because I don’t have to hear myself talk all the fucking time like some people doesn’t mean I don’t fucking read.” 

“Really?” he exclaimed with feigned excitement. “What do you possibly find the time to read between rolling around in the mud and chasing cars?” 

She shot her head back to glare at him again, fangs on full display. What an empty threat it was becoming already. “Where’d you say your house was again?” 

“Ah, yes. Southwest just before you hit the river, a somewhat sizable ranch with natural cedar wood siding, an attached guest house and airplane hangar, you can’t miss —” 

“Good!” she barked back at him before sprinting forward, front limbs shifting to join her hindlegs on the ground. Fur spread along her body as it twisted and cracked into the shape of an animal, allowing her to race off ahead of him in full wolf form. 

“Do not transform in the middle of a populated town!” he shouted towards the wolf as her form grew smaller on the horizon as she continued to run. “That’s lesson number one!” he called, shuffling along in an attempt to catch up. “Jessie!” he yelled one last time in protest, now exceptionally far from the beast. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he finally cursed, ducking beneath the shade of a tree and tossing his umbrella into the woods. He drew in a deep breath of frustration before willing himself into the form of a bat, hurrying to flap his wings and soar the distance between him and the wolfwoman dashing through wheat fields. 

This was definitely going to take longer than a week. 

Perhaps an eternity. 

#otp: stop bothering these nice folks #oc: deputy jestiny ellen #v: eternal flame #ch: john seed #writies and wordies

[crushgodkami]

4 +1 Times - Privacy is a Luxury We Can’t Afford | Part 1

Got the bug to write some CoD fic with my new OC. Enjoy or something I guess?

This is a 5 part drabble series about how privacy isn’t always an option in this line of work. Includes my female OC, call-sign Hound, but isn’t inherently romantic. The final scene may or may not contain smut, I haven’t decided. 

You learn real quick to not be modest in this life, privacy is a luxury few can afford most days.

“Eyes to the wall boys!” Hound strode into the communal shower with a flourish, throwing the door open and tossing her towel onto a nail driven haphazardly into the wall. She held a short towel over her front to create some semblance of modesty from breast to mid-thigh as she made her way to the weak spout in the corner. 

The other members of the task force that had jockeyed for the hotter and higher-pressure faucets in the room turned to face the wall, jokes and chatter still flowing freely over their shoulders and bounding off the cracked tile walls. Hound luxuriated in the cool spray for a moment, the cacophony of sound around her reassuring. The water sluiced grime and viscera off her skin while the voices of her comrades seemed to do the same to the lingering post-mission tension clinging to her nerves. Some days it amazed her that she felt so comfortable, so safe, in a crowded locker room with some of the world’s most skilled killers, but the ringing of laughter kept that more morbid line of thought at bay.

“Yeah Hound, what do you think about it?” She twisted to look at Soap a few feet away from her, eyebrows raised in question. “What’s worse, a perpetually wet bar of soap in your kit, or a bottle of it leaking open in your kit?” He kept scrubbing at the last streaks of dirt caked onto his arms, his attention comfortably split between the routine of cleaning and the boisterous argument he seemed to be leading the group in. 

“I gotta go with the perpetually wet bar. Liquid soap I can wash off but the funk of a mildewy bar in my bag? That’s forever.” 

She glanced down at Soap’s feet where a fancier looking bottle than they usually had sat unprotected. He caught the change in her attention a moment too late as she hastily snapped it up and turned her back to him, reading the label aloud. 

“Oooh, someone felt bougie last time we hit the exchange huh? Let’s see what we have here.” She pitched her voice up a notch louder, holding her towel over her front so she could turn around to present her findings to the team. “Paraben free, sulfate free, 100% natural essential oils- ooooh Soap, this is the good stuff huh?” She laughed, holding the bottle out of Soap’s reach while Gaz attempted to grapple him and keep him at bay. “Volumizing and moisturizing with scents of guava, passionfruit, and mango! Wow Soap, I get it now! A tropical man, eh?” She cackled wildly and tossed the bottle back at him. 

“Looks like none of us need to worry about any stinky bars of soap, MacTavish has us covered, eh boys?” There was a round of laughter and the telltale thwap of someone being hit with a wound up towel. Hound chuckled, returning to scrubbing her hair in the slowly warming spray. 

The chatter seemed to die with the speed of an Officer entering the room, which could only mean one thing. She peeked towards Soap, confirming that he was resolutely facing the wall, focused intently on re-scrubbing his forearms. Hound nodded to herself, turning her intention to the long Y-shaped crack in the tile at her eye level when she heard the last available showerhead turn on to her left. 

Ghost. 

There was a polite quiet in the room, every member of the 141 present dutifully finishing up as quickly as possible to give the Lieutenant his privacy. One by one they filtered out, leaving in silence. Hound felt the cool tap of plastic on her shoulder, turning to find Soap prodding her with another bottle, a hand towel draped politely over his junk. 

“Conditioner, since you seem so keen on stealing my stuff. Maybe it’ll help you look less like a mangy mutt in the morning.” He laughed as she snatched it from his hand, missing the heavy eye roll as he turned away to towel down and leave as well. 

She rinsed her hair, slicking a sparse dollop of conditioner through it and letting it sit. She took note of the brand and scent for later, she would have to thank MacTavish for the rare luxury. She stretched under the spray of water, appreciating that it was slowly turning from tepid and weak to something warmer and firmer against her skin. 

“That good, ey?” She almost startled at the voice beside her, slamming down on the instinct to look his way before it could kick in. She must have made some sound to alert Ghost to her quiet reverie. 

“Free fancy hair shit and a hot shower? Yeah, I’d say it’s that good LT.” She kept her eyes down, hiding a smile when he chuffed out a breath as close to a laugh as any of them ever got from him. “You want some? MacTavish got the good stuff, for real.” She held out the bottle, giving it a playful shake. 

There was a long pause, but soon she felt the weight lift from her hand and heard the cap pop open followed by a sniff. She turned her back to the spray and closed her eyes, rinsing the last of the conditioner from her hair. She grinned smugly, scrubbing at her scalp while Ghost seemed to evaluate the bottle with care. 

“Guess a nimby can have a good idea once in a while.” There was the click of the bottle closing and the sound of it being placed on the shower floor between them. “Thanks.”

Hound, still grinning, scooped it up with a nod and scurried away to get her own towel and leave. She patted herself down, wrapping her hair up in her smaller towel. She turned to the lieutenant, a hand over her eyes, and called out “I’ll let him know you approve, LT! I’m sure MacTavish will love it!” She quickly slipped out the door before she could hear his response to that one, savoring the chaos this would cause later in the afternoon.  

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #female oc #my writing #original #fanfiction #task force 141 #idk i hope someone likes it at least?

[football-manager-2022-crax6]

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[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy jack tubbo and george

requested yes/no

part 5 of the great adventures series

summary: training for the military

warning: cursing

AN: really sorry about this tumblr won’t let me change/add paragraphs so could look very weird

the journey there was quick for you, you spent the trip asleep in the back of the car whilst the others were discussing what you were all about to do “How difficult do you think it’s going to be” “dude it’s a military assault course” you woke up halfway there to the noise of the radio playing “afternoon y/n”“afternoon sorry I fell asleep I’m not used to being woken up early in the morning, I blame you guys and ranboo”“y/n have you ever wanted to join the military” “I can't say I have no” “well you’re going to love what we’re doing” “what are we doing” “you’ll see!”

you stood picking up more rocks and handing them to tubbo whilst Tommy and George began to film the introduction to the vlog “were in the jungle” confused you turned to tubbo “psst tubbo what the fuck are we doing, why are we in a woods” before tubbo had time to answer Tommy already began to answer your question telling you that you’re all training for the military, not taking him seriously you started laughing as you all were walking it was only when you were handed a jumpsuit to cover your clothes you realised it wasn’t a joke, you would be lying if you said you were ready for this, after all, you spent your free time playing Minecraft you wasn’t exactly great at sports

you managed to put the jumpsuit on pretty quickly unlike Tommy who was quite clearly struggling to get it on over his trainers “come on sergeant simons were doing a military assault course and you’re struggling to put on the clothes”after struggling to put clothes on the five of you stood together getting photos whilst you all looked decent “me and my boys in the jungle” “This isn’t going to go well” “we’re going to destroy it” “NO”

you hadn’t even reached the course yet and you were already tripping up over rocks and sticks that were on the muddy trail “we’re walking to our deaths..y/n is already falling over” “Hey I didn’t sign up to do exercise” once you finally reached the start of the course you were met with a canon, a dog and a man in a yellow jumper you stood as a team listening to what you were about to do and how you were actually a team of six, you hoped he meant the dog was a team member but no turns out the canon was the sixth member

“We have to take the canon with us” “...and take it apart into six pieces at each obstacle and rebuild it ” you handed your phone to the Russ, not trusting yourself to keep it on you especially since you were already tripping up before reaching the assault course “thank you” “good luck” “huh” you didn’t have time to process what was said as Mr military began counting down from three, the five of you ran to the first obstacle tubbo dragging the canon Tommy climbed over the net first with tubbo following after “What happens if I fall” it was as though you and tubbo had read each other’s mind as you both responded with “you’ll die” “death” you climbed over next with a wheel “reckon I can slide down the net” “that will hurt y/n don’t do- and you’re already doing it” you slid down the net despite George telling you not to do so, it didn’t take too long for the others to get over, you all began reassembling the canon “can we talk about our feelings” “I feel like shit I jumped out of a plane not long ago now I feel like I’m doing PE all over again” “Y/N JUST HELP BUILD THE CANON” “I'M TRYING ODDLY ENOUGH I'M NOT BUILT FOR THE MILITARY”once the canon was built Tommy and tubbo ran off with it “who’s going to tell them we need to test it” once Mr military shouted they ran back “why do we have to do this” “it’s the fucking rules Tommy and life is full of them” “like taxes” “tax fraud” a few seconds later the five of you yelled “bang” neither of you saying it at the same time “it didn’t work” “yes it did now come on”

you all ran towards the next obstacle, a giant wall. you all quickly dismantled the canon, Tommy went over first and began bickering with Mr military about him not being his dad whilst you tubbo and jack struggled to pass over the heaviest part of the canon “lift and lift” “really George? I thought we could just throw it over and hope he catches it” “Please don’t do that” “I am very sorry George but I'm struggling here” you continued your struggling tubbo tried to help Tommy through his words “you’re strong bossman I believe in you” “by the way, you really picked the shortest people to do this” part of the canon landed with a thud “welp hope he’s not dead” you climbed over next again carrying the wheel “he’s not dead guys don’t worry” you laughed as George took his time getting over the wall “I'm poving” “GET OVER THE WALL” you all stood questioning what time you were on completely forgetting that you were supposed to reassemble the canon “This is going to be embarrassing” “you guys could be rebuilding the canon” you could have built and tested the canon quickly however Tommy George and tubbo began telling people to subscribe whilst you built the canon with jack “we’re so good at this” “heh maybe not” you all test-fired the canon and made your way to the next obstacle

you were sent to go over the rope first, this was extremely difficult for you, the rope kept swaying as you walked causing you to lose your balance on multiple occasions “step on the V” “I’m going to fall” you made it over after a couple of minutes, like tubbo you also felt a bit ill, you assumed it was because it was quite hot and a lot was going on “how you feeling y/n” “Honestly, I’m jealous of ranboo, he’s at home living his best life and I’m in the middle of the woods overheating and climbing but no it’s pretty funny watching the others” you laughed as you overheard tubbo talking about how they’re only three obstacles in and how he’s going to die “YOU GOT THIS TUBBO!” Tommy crossed next, like you, he took his time he was then followed by tubbo who was trying to speed run walking over the rope you waited for jack and George cheering them on whilst Tommy was asking around for water and complaining about wearing a gamer hoodie. at this point, everyone seemed unmotivated “3 2 1.. bang”

“oh lovely..tires” tubbo went through first with the heaviest part of the canon “ill help you tubbo” you following behind helping him carry it due to it being stupidly heavily “so how are you tubbo” “AAAAAAAAAAA” “aye me too bud” you and tubbo decided that from now you two were going to work as a pair so it would be easier for you both, over the past few weeks tubbo became one of your closest friends the pair of you even started trending on Twitter as you did an irl stream where you both went on a walk at the beach and met several fans. whilst you and tubbo were making your way through Tommy jack and George we’re trying to figure out who should take what. “there’s piss in this one” “what the fuck?!” the pair of you finally got out from the tires “good job you two” “thank you” you rested your head on tubbos shoulder trying to get your breath back “I don’t think I’m made for the military” a few moments later Tommy made it to the tire full of water and put his finger in it “PEE” “Tommy why-” you stood looking around at the scenery, the sound of Tommy yelling about crawling away from George and that he’s ‘touched the piss’ was enough the drag you away from your own thoughts, you watched the others struggling to get through the tires and was amazed at the fact tubbo went back in to help them. you tried to ignore Tommy and George being dramatic as you tried to figure out how many more obstacles you had to go but you got distracted by George “ill just eat you if you die” “Mr military I’d like some help right about now” you walked over to Tommy and helped him get out of the tires “thanks y/n” “welcome” “how you doing bossman you know I pulled through your part...what are you doing that’s George's water” Tommy decided to throw the bottle to you so you could have a drink as he remembered you’d not had a drink since you landed from jumping out of the plane “Thanks, Tommy” “YOU BOTH DRANK GEORGES WATER” “he can drink the piss” “what Tommy said” you laughed as you walked over to where jack was in the tires “ HI JACK” “Jesus christ you scared me, hi y/n” you stood waiting for everyone to finish “I know exactly what the slowest time was” “we’re going for a new record it’s fine” “of being the slowest?” “yeah” “you know what Mr military ill clart you” “you’ll what me” “I’m gonna just go over here” you walked over to where parts of the canon were and got ready to assemble it again whilst George began throwing water over jack and tubbo to bless them then did the same to Tommy, you hid behind a tree thinking he wouldn’t notice you, however, he did and within a minute you too had water poured on you “Thanks, I was thirsty” “oh we know” “The fuck is that supposed to mean” “HELP BUILD THE CANON PLEASE” like last time you all built the canon tested it and ran to the next obstacle

“can we just you know drag the already built canon under there with us” “absolutely not” “I tried” you all disassembled it again and like last time you and tubbo went first crawling under “I don’t want to alarm you all but it is soaking wet in here” “delightful” a few moments later you were both working well “tubbo I’m scared of the dark and it’s pitch black” “you’ve got this bossman we’re almost done” you calmed down quickly until Tommy decided to jump above the pair of you

“SORRY” “TOMMY I SWEAR TO GOD” “YOU DICK” you laughed slightly and tubbo checked up on you “you okay?” “I'm fine if you’re fine” “come on let’s finish this thing” the pair of you continued and finished relatively quickly tubbo got out first “NEVER AGAIN” “Sorry about that buddy” “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU” you helped push part of the canon out so tubbo could easily drag it out he then reached out so you could hold his hand and help pull you out “I've never been so happy to see the light” the pair of you sat on the floor waiting for the others to finish, you both made a bet on who was going to laugh first somehow you won as tubbo laughed at George and jack struggling to crawl through “YOU LAUGHED” “OH SHITTT” Russ came over to you both whilst recording so he could ask about how everything’s going “I’m covered in mud and the jumpsuit is wet, it isn’t a good day for the y/n community it was dark as hell in there “Tommy is a dick and tried to kill me and y/n” “I DIDN'T TRY TO KILL YOU BOTH” “I think he heard us” “WE ALL DID WERE NOT DEAF” “NO, BUT ACCORDING TO INSTAGRAM YOU'RE DEAD” you stared directly into the camera “sometimes it’s like I still hear jack talking to me” George and jack started complaining about how much further the is to go and how it was dirty and Tommy's response about being sorry it doesn’t fit their tory lifestyle made you burst out laughing “YOU LAUGHED” “tubbo my beloved you laughed ages ago you’ve already lost” “But we’re equal now” “no” the pair of you stood bickering to the point you didn’t realise the others had finished the obstacle and were shouting for you to test the canon “Y/N TUBBO WE NEED TO TEST THE CANON” the pair of you ran over “3 2 1 BANG”

“just going to warn you all you see that black cloud over there” “oh yay a storm is coming” you grabbed a wheel and followed behind jack across the wooden bridge “y/n he’s been splintered” “oh no poor George” “these are my gaming fingers” “no gaming for you I guess” “Stop talking about gaming dickheads” you spent a lot of time talking to George and jack whilst crossing over trying not to fall over you all even made a few plans to stream a laugh and the stream ends on jacks channel soon

you were all building the canon again whilst being informed you weren’t even halfway through and already 40 minutes in “high score” “well it’s definitely high” “Y/N??” “coming tubbo hang on my shoelace came undone” after tying your shoelace you grabbed a wheel and caught up to tubbo “if you go over tubbo ill pass it over to you and we can keep doing that” this method worked well for you both tubbo would climb over you would pass the wheel and middle part of the canon then climb over and repeat the process you heard Tommy in the background complaining about the fact he’s wearing jeans and jacks response “Yeah but I’m wearing jeans” “tubbo and y/n are almost done and you’re complaining about jeans” “jean boy pops off” “I'M WEARING JEANS AS WELL QUIT COMPLAINING” “Can we just go home and play smash bros” “Tommy this was your idea I didn’t even get on an option” “Sorry about that y/n but you get to spend time with me and gogy” “lucky me” you weren’t going to lie this was hard work and you were exhausted you felt like you could just fall asleep right where you were stood however tubbo wasn’t going to let that happen “I’m never going on an adventure with Tommy again” “me either” this of course was bullshit and you were both going on another adventure soon you stood watching your friends struggle to get over the obstacles you decided to offer your support and went to help jack and George using a similar method to that you used with tubbo “thanks y/n” “anytime” “y/n you could have helped me, tubbo pulled me over I could have been injured” “very sorry to hear that sergeant simons sucks to suck I guess” you all reassembled the canon tested it and ran to the next obstacle “I hate it here” “there’s a storm on the way” “Thanks, y/n for the input” “welcome George” you all noticed the net luckily you didn’t have to disassemble the canon this very well could be because you were running far behind and a storm was on its way. you watched as the others went through and joked about tubbo losing his shoe and Tommy getting stuck, this obstacle wasn’t made for you either as you kept getting caught on the net “I'VE BEEN CAUGHT AGAIN” jack lifted the net for you again so you could easily crawl through “thank you jack” you all then made it to the next obstacle Tommy crawled on the metal bars with you following after him whilst George used the monkey bars once you all made it across you had to walk across many metal planks used to form a bridge Tommy walked close behind you knowing you were extremely clumsy and didn't want you to fall “irl nettles” “The fuck are you on about Tommy I don’t think you’re following my advice about going outside” you all dissembled the canon as you got to the tires the only difference this time was you needed to climb over them “it’s rather windy” “there’s dirt in my eye” like before you and tubbo used the same method “look at them go” “I LIKE A DA BEE” “I'M SCARED OF BEES” “oh okay” “Why do they keep taking the plank” “I don’t know tubbo just takes it and y/n follows” you both finished rather quickly and neither of you got injured or fell “really good job you two” “thank you Mr military” you stood leaning on tubbo watching George pick up random rocks and put them into his pocket similar to what you had been doing the entire way around the course “I don’t think George or y/n have been outside before they keep picking things up like souvenirs” “Y/N GEORGE HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN THE RAIN BEFORE” both of you just stared at Tommy making him laugh you helped the others get across the tires and even helped prevent Tommy from falling a couple of times. unfortunately, you ended up twisting your ankle but tried to ignore it not wanting to ruin the vlog for anyone, not that you would have, however it was clear you were in pain as you had started limping. one at a time you all crossed the rope “This is me climbing I am climbing” you cheered everybody on and then it was your turn

unlike the others the rope kept shaking as you walked across mainly because you were scared of falling and in pain all whilst trying to rush, this was clearly your least favourite obstacle of the day “take your time y/n don’t fall” “thank you jack I'm trying my best I promise” once at the end of the rope, Tommy took the wheel off you and helped you get down and pulled you into a quick side hug “you’re doing great let’s go we’re almost done” you knew your friends wouldn’t make you continue if you really didn’t want to however you were nearly finished and was determined to finish. you all reassembled the canon and made your way to the next obstacle

“there’s no way we’re getting through that without twanging a rope” “good luck” you and tubbo made your way through the ropes trying not to hit them, this proved to be a pretty impossible task and you ended up twanging the ropes several times, this mixed with everyone else’s failure to cross without hitting the rope meant you all had to do 20 push-ups, after reassembling the canon twice as you all didn’t do it correctly the first time and testing it you all had to do the push-ups “I’m sure y/n and George only did 3” “sorry bossman”

you all were finally making your way to the last obstacle determined to finish “Big Russ can we go to McDonald's after this” “sure” the five of you cheered and ran the last obstacle quickly disassembling the canon, you led the way over the obstacle tubbo Tommy jack and George following behind you, despite tubbo losing his shoe and George going backwards the five of you quickly completed the obstacle and reassembled and tested the canon running over to the finishing line

you all finally completed it and waited for your result “45 minutes easily” “1 hour 11 minutes and 46 seconds” “no way that’s a world record” “well we tried” the five of you stood telling people to subscribe before ending the recording and making your way back to the car

the car ride back felt a lot longer than the way there. you were all exhausted

“how’s your ankle” “it’s not too bad it’ll probably hurt more tomorrow morning”

“I'm still not over Tommy trying to kill me and tubbo” “I didn’t try to kill you” “sure” the rest of the journey was chaos you all screamed along to the songs on the radio eventually you all got to McDonald's and spent the rest of the night enjoying each other’s company.

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[ashiemochi]

aphrotitty - 55☢

✠ Aphrotitty ↳ Don’t do anything stupid ↳↳ does something stupid

~~ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ~~ genre: fluff, a slice of life, angst, gore at some point, smut/suggestive themes ~~ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

☢ Warning: zombies, mentions of blood/gore, shitty description of a mutation, shrek 2, more cute moments of so ah and leon, stole quotes from RE6 Simmons for weird-ass Frederic <3

prev -> next

Having made her way back into the bioreactor room, So Ah warily glanced around her, deeply hoping Frederic wasn’t waiting for her. At a quick pace, she jogged to the control room and got in, closing the door behind her.

To say she was breathless was an underestimation and she didn’t know if it was from the running back here or the kiss.

Right...

Leon kissed her.

A high-pitched squeal came from her throat, covering her reddening cheeks with a wide-in-disbelief smile. She could still feel the kiss on her lips, leaving behind a tingling sensation that emitted a dreamy sigh from her.

It wasn’t what she imagined it would be; she more so expected it to happen after their dinner date or in his safe space on that mountain.

She didn’t see it coming during a deadly endemic – but nonetheless, she was tired of waiting and ever so glad it happened.

Forcing herself to gather her bearings so she could focus on something important other than simping over a kiss, you know, like the fact she was alone in the control room with the virus. So Ah had seen Frederic planning on going up which meant the sample must be there.

Before she turned to act on her plan, her eyes caught a glimpse of red in one of the CCTV screens. Tragically for her, the cameras didn’t have a built-in microphone, so she resorted to watching Ada and Frederic talk – though he didn’t look too happy.

In fact, he looked livid and it sent shivers down her spine. Growing up, she never saw him lose his cool as he was always the type of man who kept his composure and thought through logic – but the man she was seeing was practically shouting and snapping for his life; or whatever he was saying.

She can’t read lips but she does know a little bit of sign language. Squinting her eyes just a tad, she tried to understand his hands and arms movements.

‘I walked my egg to the park this afternoon and Jeff Bezos stepped on it!’

Okay, maybe he wasn’t signing anything in specific – either that or he was just really upset over having his egg stepped on by a multi-billionaire entrepreneur.

Ada seemed unfazed, her gun still aiming at the frantic man as if she was saying; I really don’t care – to tell the truth, it was me who stepped on it.

Then Frederic snapped, whipping out a handgun from his back belt and almost took a shot with; you bitch!

So Ah gasped faintly when Ada shot Frederic in the neck with something that clearly was not a bullet and he keeled over then began running away, though stumbling – Frederic seemed panicked. Ada followed looking hot and sexy as always without even trying to be but then he pulled a nearby lever and So Ah got a popup on the main screen.

TEST SUBJECTS IN B2 WEST LABORATORY HAVE BEEN RELEASED.

“That can’t be good...” She muttered, returning her eyes to the duo just in time to see Ada facing some slimy and deteriorating zombies while Frederic ran out of the camera’s view

After seeing the zombies falling one by one, she knew Ada was more than capable of handling this. It wasn’t like So Ah knew what to do exactly – but the least she could do was lessen the burden of it all.

The plan was to find the virus samples and get rid of them all – anything regarding that goes straight down to the ground and stomped on like Frederic’s egg.

With that being said, she checked where the B2 west laboratory was to try and estimate how far was Frederic and how long she’s got before he arrives back here – who was she kidding?

She doesn’t know how to read a map.

✠

Huffing out a series of heavy exhales, So Ah had finally reached the top level of the main shaft. Her legs were aching but she pushed herself forward, running to the centre of it all where the synthesizer was located.

Good news, three virus samples were there with an extra seemingly special crimson-coloured sample.

Bad news, it was locked.

Of-fucking-course it needed a code.

Grumbling beautiful-totally-not-pirate-curses in Korean under her breath, So Ah’s eyes trailed over the machine as she tried to find anything else that would open this bad boy up but nada. Then the whole walkway beneath her feet shook, nearly throwing her off her balance and loud heart-thudding wreckage echoed throughout the facility along with the automated voice.

ROGUE BIOWEAPON DETECTED. STERILIZATION SEQUENCE ACTIVATED. PARTITION WALL CLOSING. ALL CREWS EVACUATE THE FACILITY.

Large hatches on the walls slid upwards before a tunnel came out, gushing out the steaming acidic substance and it hit the ground floor – the whole facility was self-destructing; steadily but surely covering the floor and began filling up, slowly inching towards the first level.

She looked below and a sound hitched in her throat at the mutated beast, that she couldn’t recognize, and Leon within the mutated monster’s large claws. It was choking him and Leon was visibly struggling.

“Leon...” Her voice uttered quietly, feeling fear rush into her veins before sprinting to the stairs to head down.

Leon let out a strangled sound before the monster tossed him to the wall, letting him fall to the ground and began coughing with his gloved hand on his bruising neck.

Then the bulbous zombie spoke, unknowingly freezing the girl midway in shock at the familiar distorted voice.

“Leon Scott Kennedy, the golden bitch to the president,” Frederic mocked, “Aren’t you tired of kissing that coward of a President’s ass yet?”

“Years and years of working under his orders, you never once stopped to think that he’s just as bad. In fact, you’ve proven you’re just like those damned parasites; listening to your master and obeying their every order.” Frederic snapped, watching Leon struggle to catch his breath with menacing crimson eyes.

“If only that bastard Wesker hadn’t released the virus here...” Frederic trailed away, letting out a growl as he nearly doubled over, clawed hand clutching his rotten chest in pain. He straightened up, a wide unsettling grin stretching his face; his teeth were all razor-sharp and pointy.

“He was afraid of me – that’s why he sent that bitch in red to clean up his mess. He knew my project was successful – I created the strain that overpowers the G-Virus antibody! I am superior! No longer the intern they’ve pushed around!” Frederic bellowed in pride, laughing evilly as Leon finally recovered, glaring up at the mutated mad scientist.

“Those Umbrella bastards will finally take me back in.” Frederic glowered, literally drooling with sickening hungry eyes, “Now that I’ve got that gullible bitch’s antibody and this strain, the whole nation will pay billions for this – if not trillions!”

“It always comes down to money, doesn’t it?” Leon snapped back with azure irises that never seemed more hating and intimidating then Frederic barked out a gurgled cackle, the strain in his system distorting his tone completely.

“Nothing can stop me now, Agent Kennedy. It’s about time you’ve joined the unfortunate souls of Raccoon City.” Frederic dictated with a smirk before his claws extended and he began striding towards the agent with bloodthirsty eyes.

That sent her into action.

The girl landed in front of Leon, though it didn’t look as cool with the slight stumbling at the sudden ache in her ankles, then for the first time in this entire dreadful night – she raised her sniper rifle at him.

Frederic froze at the protective stance of the girl whose grieving eyes looked betrayed and infuriated while Leon breathed out at his sweetheart still alive in front of him then returned his stare onto the scientist.

“Pansy... What are you doing?” Frederic asked, clearly confused with being at the end of the gun, “You’re supposed to be on my side – you’re family’s side! Not him!”

So Ah only shook her head a little, bottom lip trembling just the slightest bit at the mutilated sight of the man she trusted the most.

His whole body was covered in spikes of the sort, circling around him like those thorny vines back in the GreenHouse. He no longer had his glasses, leaving behind deathly red eyes to pierce her soul. He didn’t look recognizable anymore – no longer the Frederic Sonny she knew.

The man who checked up on her on the daily, been to every birthday of hers, was there when no one wasn’t, remembered what she likes and dislikes. Frederic Sonny was dead – leaving behind his monstrosity of a creation.

She heard everything– seriously, villains always expose themselves with their prideful monologues.

Why are you talking and taking your time?

Instead, the safety on the rifle clicked off as her answer to his question and So Ah’s eyes focused on the shocked look on her family doctor’s face. Frederic took one step close, his eyes narrowing down into slits at her disobedience.

“Are you really going to shoot family?” He scowled, “I practically raised you!”

For a second, that seemed to have brought her out of her current protective state – but it only lasted a blink of an eye and she glared at him.

“Then you should’ve done a better job.”

Frederic snarled loudly at this and booked it towards the duo then she pulled the trigger, the bullet flying past his ear and hitting one of the massive capsules containing a rabid Plaga. Frederic didn’t seem to have noticed it, believing she missed and his smirk widened as he brought his claws up in the air.

Then a tendril stopped him.

So Ah quickly lowered her gun as Frederic let out audible groans and growls at the Plaga that was pulling him.

“Come on!” She urged as Leon stood up, tilting his head at the scientist’s state in an impressed way then he ran after her to the ladder that led out of the walkway they were on.

“Happy to see a familiar face around here.” Leon smiled with an intrigued glint in his eyes as she got on the first step of the ladder.

So Ah returned the smile and began climbing up, “Did you find my parents?”

“Chris and his pal got to them first – in the quarantine room just like you said.”

She stilled midway, looking down at him in worry, “Are they okay? Where are they? Did they get hurt?”

“Other than a few scratches, they’re fine. They’re with Chris’s unit.” Leon’s lips twitched when she let out a relieved sigh, muttering in her mother tongue – probably a thank God – then he started climbing after her.

“Nice blade you got there.”

So Ah’s face turned into a deeper shade of red, eyes widening in surprise as she looked over her shoulder at Leon, seeing his playful eyes trail away from underneath her skirt to her eyes. He wasn’t even ashamed.

“Leon!”

“What?”

“Don’t look!”

Being a blushing mess at his light-hearted chuckles, she finally got out of the platform and Leon followed. Her eyes landed on Frederic who was still struggling against the rogue Plaga but he was seemingly winning his little battle. So Ah gasped and took a step back when Frederic released a loud snarl, ripping off one of the Plaga’s tentacles clean from around his neck.

“Okay, not what I expected to see from someone like him,” Leon said as the automated voice reminded them to evacuate and So Ah glanced up to the synthesizer. She visibly perked up at her plan, absentmindedly grabbing Leon’s arm gently to get his attention.

“There’s a gun armoury on the third level and the virus sample on the top.” She informed, pointing to said places, “You get them and I’ll try to stop the self-destruct sequence, okay? Cool.”

She wasn’t going to admit that just seeing Frederic rip that Plaga apart like tearing a simple paper did make her think she was going to piss herself – all in all, she was panicking wildly on the inside.

Leon noticed it when her words were jumbling in together as she turned around to head to the control panel room, “Wait–”

She felt his hand grasp onto her arm and gently pull her back, her feet stumbling just the slightest as she faced him with clearly panicked eyes. Then his free hand tenderly grabbed her face and his lips rested on hers softly.

It was a simple three-second kiss but it gave her heart palpitations and her nerves to relax just a moment at how heavenly his lips were on hers.

Leon pulled away a little with a loving smile and gentle eyes, “I’ve missed you.” He whispered, his breath lightly hitting her skin.

So Ah’s cheeks flushed and an uncontrollable smile reached her lips as she parted them to speak but Frederic roared loudly.

“Get away from her, Kennedy!” Frederic shouted, getting rid of the last tendril of the dying Plaga and began making his way to the lovers, “You’re not half the man she needs!”

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Leon commented sarcastically as So Ah shuddered under the vehement stare of her ex-father-figure.

Deep inside, she somehow knew he was in no way talking to her – not when the no-longer loving nickname Pansy was used in his project; the strain she had which he created was called Pansy.

He wasn’t talking to her – he was talking directly to the Plaga inside of her.

It was weird and it made her uncomfortable on so many levels that Ji Dae wasn’t even close to getting.

“Be careful, I’ll try to give a hand from the controls.” So Ah said and Leon gave her a firm nod along with a gentle squeeze on her arm then they parted ways in opposite directions.

Frederic growled when they split up, his sharp reds snapping from the girl to Leon and saw he was heading up to the viruses. Frederic let out an angry howl, running and climbing after the agent; “Stay right where you are, you pest!”

“That’s one request I can’t grant, Sonny.”

✠

As Leon was handling the rogue mad executive scientist, So Ah busied herself with the controls – frantically might I add.

Every button and lever looked exactly the same. At some point, she used the keyboard to write the commands to bypass the automated system and switch it to manual – which didn’t really go as planned.

>> CANCEL SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE

>ERROR. REQUEST UNCLEAR.

>> STOP THE STERILIZATION SEQUENCE

>ERROR. REQUEST UNCLEAR.

>> PLEASE STOP THE GUSHING ACID, I’M GONNA CRY.

>ERROR. REQUEST UNCLEAR.

So Ah’s head snapped towards Frederic’s menacing laugh then she went back to panicking and just keyboard smashing at this point, being only driven more and more by Frederic's horrifying noises. They were guttural and sounded like he needed to cough but he never did.

She didn’t know what she opened and what file she had accidentally entered. Again, everything looked the same but what type of God forbidden luck does one got to have to open Frederic’s music files by mistake?

Where have all the good men gone

And where are all the gods.

Despite being followed and dodging Frederic’s constant attacks, Leon managed to cast an incredulous glance at So Ah in the control room who only looked just as surprised. The song was blaring softly from a sound system that she could not locate and turning it off was not an option because every fucking key looked exactly the same.

Where's the streetwise Hercules

To fight the rising odds.

She didn’t know how to stop it and really had other things to worry about – like the flying gantry that Frederic threw at Leon who snapped instantly out of his moment of surprise and rolled to the side, dodging it. The sound of it crashing onto the pathway out of the control panel shook So Ah to the core and she let out a yelp, gripping onto the desk for balance.

“So Ah, get out of there!”

As Leon’s loud shout echoed to her ear, So Ah finally noticed the bubbling acid was inching to a close to her platform. For a second, she hesitated as she wasn’t able to stop the self-destruct sequence but then again, she ran out of the room.

Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed.

One thing she hoped for was the song stopping because it really was not the time to listen to Bonnie Tyler. The song was linked to one movie and one movie only.

She knew she didn’t have to spell it out.

So Ah’s feet stuttered to a stop, eyes widening at the destroyed stairs with the demolished gantry – it was the only way out. Climbing over the debris wasn’t a good plan as the acid was eating it away at the bottom and she grew frantic. She took a few steps backwards, watching the debris melt away and the sulphurous liquid beginning to rise up the dented walkway.

Late at night I toss and I turn

And I dream of what I need

“I can’t get out!” She shouted back and Frederic’s sharp reds snapped down, seeing the acid getting closer and closer to So Ah’s boots as she kept moving back.

“My pansy, hold on!” Frederic went to jump down to the lower platform but an agonizing blast keeled him over, emitting out a rough groan at the burning sensation in his back.

Frederic’s teeth glimmered as he growled at Leon who held onto a chemical-based shotgun – manufactured by yours truly, Green Life – and Leon glared at him, “You’re not going anywhere!”

Frederic snarled, narrowing his eyes back at Leon, “My pansy is in danger! Are you just going to let her die?! Some man you are!”

A blur of red flew past Leon’s peripheral vision and the corner of his lip quirked up just a tad, letting the you-sure-about-that glint in his blues speak – then Frederic heard some sort of a zip line sound echo throughout the facility.

“Need a hero, pansy?”

So Ah turned around at the naturally silky tone and saw Ada standing there, one hand on her hip and the other holding onto her gun that looked more like a hook shot than an actual bullet-shooting gun.

“Ada, you’re still here?” She asked; surprised as she thought Ada had gotten everything she needed.

“What can I say? My work is pretty demanding.” Ada smiled slyly at her before shooting her hook to the highest platform and So Ah realized it was a grapple gun.

Ada offered her hand to the girl who took a wary step towards her and hesitantly grabbed her hand then gasped faintly when Ada tugged her closer and wrapped her arm securely around the girl’s waist.

Ada winked at her, tightening her grip, “Hold on.”

“WhaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA –”

I need a hero!

I'm holding out for a hero 'till the end of the night!

Frederic and Leon watched the two women fly off the lowest platform just in time as the acid swallowed the level whole – surprisingly, Holding Out For A Hero was still playing. Frederic then returned his attention to Leon, glowering and Leon only cocked his shotgun at him, narrowing his blues.

“Try it, pal.”

So Ah’s nerves were all over the place and she didn’t know if it was her bisexuality acting up or the fact Ada’s perfume was extremely familiar. Sure it was the same one Cathy had on but it triggered a memory she thought she forgot long ago – after Matthew’s welcome-back party.

A thick beige card popped up in her head along with that red-stained kiss. The cursive handwriting danced elegantly on the card; Till next time x. It all emitted some sort of an expensive passion fruit scent.

The fragrance itself made her sick to her stomach about the whole cheating thing – that never happened, by the way. When Frederic was on Wesker’s and Ada’s good side, he ordered Ada to put So Ah in stressful situations. Hence why Ada pretended to sleep with Ji Dae.

Meaning, Ji Dae was never wrong when he said he doesn’t remember sleeping with Cathy.

Was this card presented also to trigger the Plaga in her body?

Or was it something more?

So Ah didn’t have time to ponder as her feet landed on the top gantry, stumbling as Ada landed more neatly. So Ah looked down to where they once stood and saw it was flooded with the sizzling liquid, cringing outwardly when the song continued on as usual.

“That was a close one,” Ada said before walking to the synthesizer as So Ah watched in concern at the fight between Frederic and Leon.

“We need to help Leon.” So Ah said, turning her attention towards the mercenary who plugged a device to the code pad and watched a small screen roll in the numbers, settling on 1.

Ada was hacking the system.

“He’s a big boy – he can handle himself a little while longer.”

So Ah was shocked at the nonchalance Ada had before the code pad affirmed 1-9-8-0. Ada let out a hum, feigning surprise when the latches opened.

“Your birth date – should’ve guessed.”

“PANSY!”

The loud roar got both of their attention and looked down, seeing Frederic jumping from platform to platform. He was coming their way and Leon was up on the third, eyes set on the mad scientist.

“I want you by my side! Come to me, Pansy!” Frederic pressed on in a nearly pathetic but terrifying way as he got closer and So Ah moved back in fear.

“Cute. A love confession.” Ada said sarcastically as she pocketed the samples while So Ah brought her rifle from behind and aimed at the hook Frederic was using to swing then shuddered.

“I loved that nickname...” So Ah muttered, referring to pansy before shooting the cable and Frederic yowled, landing on a lower platform to escape the rising acid.

“Pansy!”

“So Ah!”

Frederic noticed So Ah’s eyes instantly snap towards the agent and soften as Leon was running up the stairs of the sixth level, holding onto the chemical-based shotgun. Frederic’s eyes glistened in livid tears when he saw her visibly happier at the sight of the agent and he let out a yell.

She was his – why can’t she understand that?

He made her. She was supposed to obey him.

Why must she love someone else who is against what she truly was on the inside?

A virus.

“Looks like you’ve got competition.” Ada chimed up to Leon once he arrived at their platform, seeing Frederic scream.

“Too bad already called dibs.” Leon chimed back just as coyly, panting heavily and So Ah blushed.

“Leon, are you okay?” She asked and began making her way towards him.

“Yeah.” Leon smiled when she stood in front of him, eyeing at the complicated built shotgun in surprise and he patted it, “Don’t worry, I know how to use this.”

“I hope so.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil infinite darkness #leon kennedy #dbd fanfic #resident evil fandom #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy imagines #resident evil memes #dbd memes #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic

[ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole]

MariJon Week

Day5: Social Media/Life Swap

It's gone midnight but it's still day 5 somewhere in the world and I've 3% battery left!

This prompt was not playing ball to write but it's done! It's not proof read but it's finished finally!!

Masterlist

Day1 Day2 Day3 Day4 Day6 Day7

____________________________________

Who would have thought a hashtag would have resulted in this. A “small series” of videos. A quick succession of tweets and a “innocuous” request have ended up like this. Even more so that she didn’t really used twitter a whole lot.

Marinette smiled amusedly, her attention to watching the chaos unfold in front of her. If Ayla was upset, then it was her own fault in the first place.

Six months ago:

Miss Bustier’s class were used to Marinette ranting about Akuma designs and costumes. The class had taken to recording these outbursts as a result and posting edited versions on twitter. She had gained her own hashtag because of a particular caped akuma; #EdnaModeHasSpoken

Someone (Alix) had thought it would be amazing idea to ask for requests to have the Parisian Edna Mode “discuss” global villains. Alix and Kim printed off what pictures they could find on the net of them and primed Alya up to record and let Marinette roll.

And oh boy did she roll. She tore into the Riddler’s wrong shade green and purple mix. She praised Lex Luthor on suit colours until she ripped into him on the suit cut. With Prankster she bemoaned the lack of originality of it all, a hybrid attire of Ridder and Joker.

Over the course of a few months almost biweekly Alya posted a new update of “Edna’s” views on the world of villain fashion. The harshest critique came when villains chose poor fashion rather than the poor Akuma victims who were forced by Hawkmoth.

Three months ago:

A new type of request came in to Alya's account. Specifically from @Zombieboy requesting that Edna review Gotham Vigilante's as she had done a tremendous reviews on Gotham's Rogues.

Seeing the pictures Alya had found, Marinette let a high pitch shrill before starting to pace.

"What the… how the… underwear on top of tights?! Where's the Kevlar?! The protection!!!

Traffic light children!!! With not trousers!!!

Is that a tampon on his head?! A swim hat?!

Why skin tight?! They dont have magic! Have they lost their marbles???"

Marinette drew in a deep breathe before releasing

"Capes!!! Are they trying to kill themselves. It's hero 101 no capes?! What are they thinking. They're from Earth … they are from Earth right? Superman obviously copied Batman's fashion sense and he's an alien. The poor man is blind but coping Batman's fashion. It's hideous!!

The only semi decent is tampon head as at least he looks like he has some armour protection. And no Cape. The leather jacket is tolerable but he needs a different cut!"

Marinette's pacing inreased with her disgust and somehow had picked up her sewing scissors and started to wave them around as she got more and more wound up.

"Capes and underwear!! Are they serious about saving the world dressed like that. It's an eye sore. Capes!!

What is with Gotham fashion?!?"

"Em… can you put the the scissors down please?!"

Alya ended up having to stop filming to help Alix try wrestle the scissors from Marinettes grasp.

#EdnaModeHasSpoken #BatmanLostHisMarbles #BatmanVsSupermanFashionCrimes #UnderWearAsOuterwearNoThankYou #CapesNoCapes #EdnaNeedsToPutTheScissorsDown

One month ago:

Some how unintentionally Marinette had managed to get into the middle a Twitter battle between Metropolis and Gotham. @TrueHeir had decided that Gotham had obviously superior fashion crimes than Metropolis stating that being the worst at fashion was a skill that Metropolis didn't have as they had to copy Gotham. Which had caused a backlash led by @BoyOfSteel stating that Metropolis moved away from wearing pants and having a leather jacketed hero first.

The battle online got quite heated until @TrueHeir demanded that the mysterious Edna wade in and settle the debate.

The issue suddenly became that Edna never really had her whole face shown @SassyFox managed to film it in such a way that it was hidden. Edna didn't seem to have Twitter. The way to solve it was to track down @SassyFox.

One week ago:

Jon and Damian via covertly using the Bat Computer managed to track @SassyFox down to Paris. They located a small(ish) area that based on the videos and pictures regularly taken. The pair looked at each other and knew that's where they were heading. They wanted, no NEEDED to Edna to settle this arguement of there's.

Checking that no one was about the pair zeta'd to Paris. They were men on a mission. A mission to resolve this fashion disaster crisis. Was Batman and Gotham or Superman and Metropolis the worst dressed.

They'd spent the day camped out in a local park. But no sign of anyone remotely like @SassyFox. To replenish supplies the pair decided to try out some local cuisine.

Jon insisted on this bakery. All the reviews rated it as one of the best in Paris and he had to try it. Walking in he met with the heavenly delight smells of pastries. He could feel his mouth drooling with the onslaught of sights and smells. He dragged Damian in to look at all the treats hidden behind the glass. Jon was drawn out of his pastry driven haze by a sweet voice asking if he wanted anything. Looking up to the source of the fairy like voice was a cute face. Blue eyes shimmer with amusement and blush coloured gloss graced lips twitch towards a suppressed smile.

"Everything!" Jon responded without thinking. Causing an eyebrow to raise on the girl's face.

"Tt! What Kent means is what would you recommend? Savour and Sweet."

Smiling a broad grin the girl launched into describing the pastries and treats and suggesting recommendations. She packed their goodies up and sent them on there way.

One day ago:

"Morning Jon, Damian, the usual?"

"Please, Marinette. Could you also pack another box on those macaroons you had yesterday as well?"

"Sure things. I take it they were a success?"

Jon nodded in agreement.

Jon and Damian after their first visit and repeatedly ended up at the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and Patisserie over the course of the week. Jon was hooked on the sweets and maybe a little (a lot according to Damian) taken by Marinette, the girl at the counter.

"The macaroons were above average."

"That's Dames speak for excellent" Jon cheerful supplied. "Hey Marinette are you on twitter?"

Jon picked up some cursing under her breath something about Alya and she was going to *kill* her before she plastered a fake smile on her face.

"I'm not. My friend uses it all the time though."

"Oh, so you've heard about the Parisian Edna Mode?" Jon cocked his head to the side. Marinette's heartbeat had picked up. Through gritted teeth so responded,

"Yup. I've heard about *Edna* my friends are slightly obsessed with it all. They *adore*her reactions."

She smile loosed at the American pair as the morning rush started to pick up.

"Sorry guys, I best finish your order off and help Maman deal with the queue building."

She effectively concluded the conversation in a polite and effective manner before waving them off with the supplies for the day.

"She knows more than she is letting on."

"Mentioning Edna made her heart beat quicker Dames. Do you think she knows her?"

"It is a high potential. Today we should stay near the bakery as formour hunting grounds."

Now:

Damian and Jon were at the park near the bakery. It appeared Marinette was off today so was missing from the bakery so Jon was "sulking".

By pure chance or coincidence, potentially luck, though the pair saw her enter the park with a group of friends and set up a picnic for them all. One was setting up music to play while others seemed to be playing an elaborate (childish) game of tag. Marinette her self looked gorgeous in a pale pink sundress. She outshone everyone she was with. When Marinette saw them she gave them a wave causing a blush to cross his cheeks.

They were content observing from a distance until Jon grabbed Damian's arm.

"It's her!!!"

Even from the distance, Marinette was mimicking Edna's wound up animated gestures of frustration. Jon could hear the growl and heat in her voice. It was a perfect match. Damian watched while quickly researching Marinette and who the girl filming was. It was all lining up. The final evidence was when a pink hair girl threw herself on Marinette crying out "Em!!" in a similar fashion to the scissor incident. Em wasn't a name but M short for Marinette.

Damian finally had found his mark and was determined to end this war with him being correct. This time it was him dragging Jon towards the girl.

"You're Edna!! You didn't tell us yesterday when we asked about it!"

"Yeah, my gurls Edna what about it. Who are you?" Alya quickly jumped in.

Marinette flapped at Damian, flustered by his bluntness.

"TrueHeir and BoyOfSteel. Edna needs to make a decision on which city has the worst fashion. Gotham or Metropolis. Once that's done this arguement can be settled and we can move on."

"What?!?! Damian??? Jon??? You've come all the way to Paris to resolve that??. What the…" Marinette looked confused at the pair. It seemed extreme to go to so much effort to find her just to settle this.

"You've stalked my gurl!!! You freak!! That's crazy. You're crazy!! All because of an arguement you two got into!!"

"Alya… you may have started it with posting all this?"

Marinette tried to defuse the situation which didn't really work.

"So who is worst?!" Demanded Damian.

"I… errr…." Marinette looked between the two boys. Which ever city she chose wouldn't be the end of this so she needed to think quickly. But she was panicking now….

"Star City!" She cried out.

The boys stopped and looked at her.

"What?!?! No! That's not what we asked. Why? You had to have chose Gotham." Damian was not impressed and about to launch in to integration mode when Alya cornered him and demanded that now he knew that he had to leave Marinette alone.

Jon just stared at Marinette. She had completely changed the rules and cleverly removed potentially tension that could of occured between him and Damian. The bragging right was taken away and handed elsewhere. With that thought Jon gentle grabbed Marinette's hand to get her whole attention. He softly kissed her cheek and smiled playfully at her.

"Sneaky move. Nicely played though Edna."

Marinette grinned up at him, knowing he got what she did before the pair turned around to watch the chaos of their best friends.

#maribat #maribat au #marijon #marijon week 2021 #jon x marinette #marinette x jon #ml x dc #dc x ml

[space-mermaid-writing]

House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: New Home

It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.

The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.

Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.

Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.

About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.

It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.

Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.

Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.

~~

The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.

Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.

Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.

It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.

Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #House Arrest #Chapter 1 #my writing #Clint #clint barton #hawkeye #loki laufeyson #imagine #chef reader #mcu #marvel

[tsunonotarou]

Torn

— Leona Kingscholar —

— Malleus Draconia —

notes — Inspired by @tri3tri ’s amazing Draconia Family Series! When I first found it I gave up sleep just to binge read all of them 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

— This is actually a Leona centered fic but it was inspired by Malleus fics so I’m putting him there (´∀｀*)

— I didn’t write what exactly happened so you guys are free to interpret it however you guys want to!

— I deleted the 4k+ words draft that I worked on back and forth in exchange for this I hope it’s the right choice (´･_･`)

: female reader

wc: 1216

*Malleus is a yandere in this piece.

Your eyes searched for one among the crowd. One man. Hoping to meet summer green eyes and chocolate brown hair. Does he still have his braids on? Is his hair still long? Does he have a spouse now? Like you? Is he even here?

You doubt it. This isn’t something Leona would attend—willingly, anyway—but he said he invited the Kingscholars. Your husband had said so, which explains why you weren’t allowed to go anywhere alone in this party. You were glued to the king’s side, his hold on your waist was secure, tight enough to give you a constant reminder but not enough to raise suspicions as to how rough and possessive Malleus Draconia was of his queen.

For an instant, you thought you saw someone familiar drift through the crowded area, heading towards one of the doors, the doors that led to the outdoor garden. You would’ve convinced yourself that it was your eyes playing tricks on you but that person’s destination tells you otherwise.

Of course, he wouldn’t be the only one to want to go to a garden—out of this suffocating place—but you were too impatient to care. You wanted to see him.

Besides, who else would give up a chance to meet and talk to the king of the Valley of Thorns? Only he would. People were surrounding the two of you and it was uncomfortable, hearing loud chatters and high pitched laughs.

The king is in need of urgent businesses, you heard one of the guards muttered, and your heartbeat quickened at this information. Secretly hoping for his arm to drop and leave your side.

It did, and you immediately took off to find that person after making sure Malleus was out of the room. Lilia was busy with guests, too. You have no eyes on you currently, it was a relief.

You hadn’t known how exhausted and out of breath you were until your footsteps halted, standing on healthy green grass instead of marble floors and having the evening breeze caress your skin. Your heart was hammering in its cage and you could feel how fast it was beating, how frantic it was. How your hands shook no matter how you try to calm them by clenching and unclench.

There was no one.

You were ready to head back but just a little more, just a little more of searching after all these years. After all that’s happened. You don’t need a conversation, you don’t need to reminisce, just one look, one look and you’ll be satisfied to know how he’s doing—

A surprised sound left you—it was ugly and embarrassing—as you instinctively stepped back, you could still feel the softness of— whatever it was that you stepped on just now.

What has gotten into you? You weren’t this clumsy before but you have been a mess ever since this day came.

“Tsk...getting forced to come to this stupid party and then having my tail stepped...what is wrong with today?”

Huh?

Clammy hands clenched the front of your dress, gaze slowly cast down, seeing a swishing tail and you followed them, seeing familiar Afterglow Savannah robes.

“Oi, woman. You’ve got some nerves stepping on my tail and not apologize.”

Isn’t this a little familiar?

You sucked in a deep breath, not realizing you were holding them in. Leona took it upon himself to step back a little after he stood to his full height, you’re a little close and you don’t look like you want to get away any time soon.

Weird. Leona thought. Have I met her?

Nonetheless, he was still annoyed at your behavior. Standing there doing nothing but gaping at him like he’s some—

“Leona.”

There was something about the way you called his name. Something that made him pause in his place, feeling something but never getting enough information on just what it is.

Your lips trembled and your head quickly bowed, refusing to stare any longer, couldn’t bear to stare any longer. Leona thinks you’re gripping the fabric of your dress a little too tight. Are you alright?

“I’m sorry for stepping on your tail.” The words were out quick but Leona never misses the shakiness in one’s voice, his hearing is exceptionally good, after all.

This doesn’t look normal. This whole situation doesn’t. Leona feels like he’s missing something but he doesn’t know what, and this feeling frustrates him to no end.

He scoffed. “You know me?” He was surprised that someone even knows his name. “Of course I know you.” You said it matter-of-factly, a little too quick.

Leona hummed, shifting his weight to one side as he rested his hand on hip, raising a brow at the lady before him, your eyes hesitantly came up to observe.

He was still the same. You wanted to smile but you probably shouldn’t. You kept them in and for a moment you two enjoyed the silence shared. Leona doesn’t know why he haven’t walked away.

He wants to ask something. Should he? It would be weird, wouldn’t it? No, who cares? He wants answers so he’ll get them.

“Have we—”

“My love.”

Leona growled at the interruption, by him, moreover. His eyes followed Malleus’ arm that snakes around your waist, pulling you close and sending a smile your way.

Malleus turn to face him and Leona could feel his eye twitch in annoyance, he wanted to not meet him, despite being in his territory, he just wants everything to get over with.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel the urge to ask you anything anymore.

“And what business do you have with my wife, Kingscholar?” Malleus emphasized the word, as if fearing his intimate actions towards you weren’t enough to show signs. Leona rolled his eyes.

“Nothing of your concern.” He retorted. Leona had to conceal his surprise at the news. As far as he knows, the Valley of Thorns doesn’t seem to fancy talking about their queen a lot—unlike Afterglow Savannah where both are mentioned and deeply respected.

He also heard rumors that the queen was once a magic-less human being forced turned fae, hence receiving disapproval. How absurd.

“I’m leaving. You’re ruining my mood.” Leona directed the words to his former schoolmate before casting one last glance at you. He walked away, you were silently pleading him not to.

The coast was clear. No one to bother, no one to eavesdrop, no one to interrupt.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Malleus questioned coldly, staring down onto your trembling form on the ground as tears flowed uncontrollably. It’s been a while since he’s seen you being this emotional. It ticked him off, knowing that another man was able to make you feel this much. “Get up, we still have guests to entertain.”

You didn’t move, so Malleus kneeled on one knee beside you, leaning close to your ear before whispering: “I hope you hadn’t forgotten what happened three years ago, and what I am capable of.”

That seems to do the trick, as you have stopped your childish tantrums and finally took his hand to stand back up. Malleus wiped the tears from your cheeks tenderly, his touch ever so cold to you.

“I will discipline you regarding your behavior later. Now, come. Do not make me use force.”

#leona kingscholar x reader #malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus draconia x reader #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland

[carolinaflicker]

birthday girl - calum hood

pairings: calum hood x reader

summary: it’s the reader’s 24th birthday, and somehow she can’t seem to keep her hands off of calum

genre: smut with a hint of fluff

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, PROTECTED sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight daddy kink, teasing + degradation, calum being hot, also female pronouns!

word count: 1770

The faint smell of hairspray sat densely in the air as she checked her reflection one last time. The red on her lips sat bold, and the black material running down her body clung tight. She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, doubtfully swapping the combination before huffing and leaving them be.

She stared at her own face in the vanity as she began to lightly run her fingertips over every bump and blemish that held her skin prisoner. Before being able to pick apart every inch of her body, her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle call in the living room of her flat.

“Love, are you almost ready?”

She turned her head swiftly as she heard his approaching footsteps, seeing Calum appear in the doorway.

“You know it’s your birthday, right? You’re kind of the expected guest.” His low chuckle resonated through the room.

Her eyes scanned his face as if it would be the last time she saw him. Y/N found herself doing this frequently, and every time she would find something she hadn’t seen before. This time it was a small freckle just under his bottom lip.

She enjoyed these moments with Calum, the little things that made every day with him a new one. She’d never loved someone as much as she loved him and, quite like her boyfriend, once thought she’d never find it.

It was Calum’s teasing smile and quirked brow that prompted Y/N to realise she was staring at him and, with reddened cheeks, quickly turned to make herself busy.

“You look beautiful.” His hands fell upon her shoulders from behind, and she bathed in the comforting smell of his familiar cologne.

“So do you, handsome.” She said, smiling at him through the mirror.

Calum reached down to give a swift peck to the crown of her head before walking away, giving his girlfriend a gentle reminder of the time passing.

Placing her emergency kit into her purse, Y/N finally noticed the trousers that Calum had chosen to wear. Green and blue plaid adorned the muscles of his thighs, wrapping and moving in just the right places to make her palms sweaty.

She took incredible interest in the way the black shirt he’d tucked in was slightly unbuttoned to reveal two silver pendants resting on his toned chest. Her heart began racing as she fantasised kissing every inch that she could see.

She suspected he had picked these ones specifically for her birthday, knowing they were her favourite. Probably also knowing exactly how they made her feel.

After slipping her final foot into her heels, Y/N turned the light off in their shared bedroom and set her sights on seeking out Calum.

Finding him stood at their kitchen counter she took quick steps over to him, not hesitating to run her hands up his exposed chest to let them rest around the back of his neck.

Calum released a hum of satisfaction when his girlfriend planted her lips on the side of his neck. Placing one hand on her hip and the using the other to gently grab her chin, he pulled her gaze up to meet his.

“Was this morning not enough for you, princess?” When he received a shake of the head, he continued. “Oh and not at breakfast either? And then after the shower. And then-“

Y/N pulled his lips down to meet her own, not worrying in the slightest about the red stain she would leave after.

“C’mon, Cal,” She all but whined, “I need you.”

“And isn’t your life so hard, darling?” He tutted at her mockingly with a small pout, before squeezing her hip and walking away to grab his keys.

Calum let out a loud laugh when he heard Y/N’s dejected mutter about being the birthday girl.

———

The party was in full swing; people flooded every inch of the bar they had hired out, celebrities and friends alike. Shouted words were being exchanged over the bass of the music playing and shots were being thrown back like water.

Calum leant at the bar, nursing a drink in his hand, paying little attention to the story that Shawn Mendes had been telling him for the past 10 minutes.

Instead his gaze was focussed on his girl dancing across the room, happily being spun around by Luke and Ashton to the tune of Dancing Queen.

He had been watching for a while now. Seeing her like this with his band mates never bothered him, in fact Luke was the very reason Calum and Y/N knew each other at all.

Having met Y/N two years prior, Luke had invited her to his 21st knowing just how well she would get on with the bassist. Calum had thanked Luke more times than he could count for this, wondering every day how he had managed to find Calum his perfect half.

Now at his girlfriend’s 24th birthday, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. Not out of jealousy, but rather out of pure want. He’d scanned the way her figure moved around the dance floor so many times he was almost dizzy, but that didn’t stop him.

As the music faded and the beginning chords of Wicked Games played through the speakers, Calum excused himself from Shawn quickly and made his way over.

It didn’t take him long, as Y/N soon felt a pair of familiar hands touch upon her waist, and she barely had to look back to recognise who it was. She released her hold on Ashton’s hand and turned her body around fully to face her boyfriend.

“Well hello, stranger.” Y/N’s face gleamed at Calum’s in the dim light.

“Hey, gorgeous. Having a good time?”

He could barely hear the happy sigh that left her mouth over the music but felt a warm feeling spread in his chest as she announced, “The best!”.

Brushing a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, he leaned down to whisper, “You wanna make it even better?”

The excited look she was giving him quickly turned darker, as she took her own turn to whisper.

“Show me what you got, handsome.”

Ignoring the cheers from Luke and Ashton, Calum grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her from the crowd. The woman had to stop herself from all but pouncing on her boyfriend then and there, instead giving a polite smile to Michael and Harry, who seemed to be in an animated conversation.

Y/N thanked every entity she could think of that the bar they’d hired was nice enough to sport separate bathrooms. She sure wasn’t quiet with Calum, yet with the music blasting and their own room, she doubted they’d be heard by anyone.

Rushing in and locking the door, Calum immediately lifted his girlfriend onto the counter. As if by magnets, the two grabbed at each other, kissing like their lives depended on it.

Y/N reached a hand into Calum’s curly hair and pulled, releasing a groan from the man’s mouth. As she attempted to grind against him further, he pulled away and took hold of her by the neck.

“Look at you, pretty girl. One word from me and you’re ready to drop your panties. When did you become such a slut?”

The fingers wrapped around her throat seemed to send the blood rushing faster to her core, a desperate, incoherent mewl escaping her lips.

As she reached down to unbuckle the belt around his waist, he was quick to pull her hands away.

“Not yet. Gotta take care of the birthday girl, right?”

“But I want you, Cal.” She cried.

“Shame.”

He tapped her waist, indicating for her to lift her hips slightly, as he pulled the hem of her dress up to her stomach. Dropping to his knees, he tossed both of her legs over his shoulders, getting closer to the ache between her legs.

Tantalisingly slow, Calum pulled the lacy thong she was wearing down her thighs before stuffing it into his back pocket.

Finally giving her what she wanted, he placed his hot tongue onto her clit, moving in slow circles. The moan that left Y/N’s lips was pornographic, and her hands immediately flew to grasp onto Calum’s hair again.

“I wanna hear you more, love.”

As if on cue, her whines pitched higher and higher, matching the muffled sound of She playing outside.

Increasing in pressure and speed, it didn’t take long for Calum to make Y/N a mess. He knew every curve of her body, every sign of pleasure and, equally, every sign of discomfort. With his knowledge, it never took him long to have her writhing underneath him.

“Calum!” She called, “I’m gonna-“

He stopped.

“Beg.”

Looking down in disbelief, Y/N found him fully content in not touching her until she gave him what he wanted. Huffing loudly, she tried to reach for him again in desperation.

“I’m pretty sure I gave you an instruction, baby.” He scoffed, pulling away even more.

“Fuck, Cal!” She released her stubbornness, “Please let me cum. Please!”

He immediately returned to his previous actions, making her cry out. Her body shuddered and she moaned as Calum finally let her release. She felt dizzy against the mirror, her face stinging from the intensity of her orgasm.

Giving her a check over and a chance to catch her breath, Calum reached down to unbuckle his belt and open his trousers. Stroking his shaft out of his boxers, he looked at the woman again.

“You ready?”

“Just fuck me, Cal.”

Earning a smug chuckle from the man as he pulled out a condom from his pocket and slid it on, she grabbed onto his shoulders as he took her words as gospel, pounding into her with no hesitation. Low grunts and swears left Calum’s lips as he thrusted deep and fast.

Y/N reached down to gently rub her now sensitive clit, releasing a cry as a certain thrust hit just the right spot.

Before she could stop herself, she released a series of incoherent whines, followed by Calum’s name as if in prayer.

“Fuck, daddy!”

Y/N’s regret immediately began to seep into her bones. This was a kink that she had quite happily kept to herself and for 3 years had been worried of Calum’s reaction if she ever brought it up.

This regret dissipated immediately however, as her boyfriend’s rhythm grew sloppier and harder at the name. Soon the room was filled with obscene cries as they both reached their climaxes, collapsing onto each other.

“Well,” Calum said after a breath, “You’ve never called me that before.”

This earned him a weak punch to the shoulder, the woman in his arms giggling lightly.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

#calum hood imagine #calum hood smut #calum hood fluff #calum hood fic #calum hood fanfiction #calum hood x reader #calum hood x y/n #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #Harry Styles

[disgruntledspacedad]

Aftershocks (2/5)

The Better Love Series 

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader (Ears). Part of the Better Love ‘verse. 

summary: That bomb fucked you up a little more than you thought. h/c, fluff.

words: 2.5k 

warnings: 18+ - canon typical violence, lots of medical stuff in this one.

a/n: unbeta’d. I had a surprise day off, so enjoy the second installment of Aftershocks much sooner than I had anticipated. More notes to follow!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five 

MASTERLIST

You’re escorted beyond the heavy double doors of the emergency department in a hurry. It probably has a lot to do with Javi busting into the waiting area with you in his arms, flashing his DEA badge and barking out orders in irate Spanish. 

Honestly, you wish he wouldn’t make such a scene. Sitting still in the car had allowed you to catch your breath a little. You feel like shit, sure, but you’re pretty sure you aren’t actively dying.

Try telling him that, though.

The triage room is little more than a curtain masking a dimly lit corner. You’re answering what questions you can in halting Spanish, but Javi can see that you’re overwhelmed. 

“Ella habla ingles.” His tone earns him a dirty look, but the nurse nods, placing an oxygen probe on your finger and frowning up at the monitor. Both of you follow her gaze, noticing that the number reads 87. 

“The doctor will see you soon,” she says carefully. Her English is heavily accented, and suddenly, you’re grateful beyond words that you have Javi here to translate. “Here. You’ll wear this.” She winds the oxygen tubing beneath your chin and around your ears. The oxygen is dry, burning your nose and making your face twitch in annoyance, but you can’t deny that you feel better with it on.

The nurse leaves you then, pulling the curtain closed behind her. Javi continues to stare at the monitor with his arms folded across his chest as the number on the screen climbs to 89, then to 92, the soft tone of the blips rising in pitch with each subtle improvement.

He’s thinking again, you can tell. 

“Javi?” You reach for his hand, tugging at his fingers. Instinctively, you know that leaving him alone to stew right now cannot be a good thing.

He glances down at you, all dark, glittering eyes and terse expression, and worry clinches in your gut. “You okay?”

Javi snorts. “Really, Ears.” You can just see him fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “That’s a hell of a question, coming from you.”

You decide to shoot for levity. “I’m great, thanks for asking.”

That earns you a pathetic, lopsided lip twitch. You count it as a win anyway.

The doctor never shows. Javi grumbles and broods. A little while later, somebody comes with a wheelchair to whisk you away for an x-ray, and no matter how much blustering and badge-flashing and protesting he does, Javi is told firmly to stay put. 

He’s pacing agitatedly in the hallway when return. Apparently, it had felt like an eternity for him. 

In reality, you’d been gone less than twenty minutes.

It seems that your x-ray has earned you some attention, because things start happening a little faster now. People are in and out, one nurse bustling in to wordlessly draw an entire fistful of little color coded tubes of your blood, another working on IV access in your opposite arm. You take it all stoically, caught between watching in fascination as the nurse tapes the catheter in place with practiced efficiency and wondering why all of this can’t just happen in one stick. 

A little while later, the same nurse returns with a bag of fluid. “Seca,” she informs you as she stretches to hang it on the hook in the wall. 

“She says you’re dehydrated,” Javi translates. His face is a stone wall, the subtle clench of his jaw the only hint of the emotion that churns beneath. You can just imagine him kicking himself for not making you eat or drink. 

You bite back a shiver. The saline is cold in your arm.

They move you to a real room not long after that. It’s only marginally bigger than your corner in the emergency department, crammed with two rickey, uncomfortable beds separated by another dingy curtain. Thankfully, you don’t have a roommate for the moment.

You let Javi handle the paperwork as you change out of his sweats and into the itchy, open-backed gown that you’ve been provided with. Even with the oxygen, moving around still requires that you pause to catch your breath, and you’re grateful for the opportunity to sit when you’re done, even if the hospital bed you’re on is squeaky and uncomfortable.

Once the documents are signed and the nurses are gone, silence settles thickly between you. Javi is standing with his fingers fisted into his hips, glaring daggers at the clock on the wall. He hasn’t spoken in a long time.

Again, you feel that burning need to pull him out of his head. “Not really set up for visitors, is it?” you ask wryly. It’s a stupid, pointless thing to say, but you’re just trying to fill the void.

Javi glances around the room, raising his brows at what he observes. There’s no chair and no free space, nowhere for him to sit. Sighing deeply, he yanks back the curtain that divides the room and eases carefully onto the bed opposite of you, leaning forward with his arms folded on his knees.

You grit your teeth. Really, you wouldn’t have minded him settling down on your bed, but the more time you spend with Javi, the more you’re starting to realize that he withdraws when he’s feeling wrong-footed. As annoying as it is, the distance he’s putting between you is just par for the course, and it’s just not worth addressing right now.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly, pinning you with a sharp, assessing stare.

“Better,” you answer automatically, forcing some cheerfulness into your tone. Honestly, you’re far more worried about him than you are about you. 

Javi raises a skeptical brow, clearly doubting you.

“No, really!” 

Your protest makes him shake his head in dark amusement. “What am I gonna do with you, Ears?” he wonders aloud.

You’re ready to supply several very detailed answers to that question, all of them interrupted as your doctor finally breezes into the room. 

“About fucking time,” Javi mutters under his breath as he rises to his feet.

“Hola, hola. I’m Dr. Perez.” Dr. Perez says, actually managing to sound a tiny bit apologetic. “Forgive the delay, por favor. I know it must seem that emergencies are the most non-emergent situation in the hospital, but, I promise you, we are working hard behind the scenes.”

 You decide immediately that you like Dr. Perez. He’s not a big man, compact and clean cut, with just the faintest dusting of silver at his temples and a warm, genuine smile. 

Javi must be thinking along similar lines, because he comes to stand just at the edge of your shoulder, looming dark and foreboding at your side as Dr. Perez approaches your bedside. 

Oh, now you’ll stick close, you think fondly, trying to find a little amusement in Javi’s behavior. Everything about this situation is entirely new, totally incongruous with the cool, suave Javier Peña that you thought you’d known, and a malicious, possessive part of your brain is just eating up the implications.

“I understand you were involved in the bombing in downtown Bogotá, correct?” Dr. Perez’s grip is firm and cool as he shakes your hand. 

“Yes, that’s correct.” You’re acutely aware of Javi standing stiffly beside you, watching your every move.

“Most unfortunate,” Perez shakes his head in a show of sympathy, and you manage to believe him. “And the breathing problems, they began later, no?”

“Yes,” you answer, surprised that he would guess with such accuracy. “I was okay afterward. Maybe a little bit sore. But not hurt.”

“Ella ha estado tosiendo sangre,” Javi interjects quickly. You’re not sure what he’s saying, but Dr. Perez’s eyes flicker in his direction, a swift, meaningful look passing between them. 

“Veo.” Dr. Perez says smoothly. He frowns down at you. “And how for were you from the blast zone?”

You think back, willing yourself to relive the memory of the morning in clinical detail. “I was crossing the street,” you say slowly.  “Headed home.” You do some quick mental math in your head, analyzing the width of Circular against the image of Emilio, waving. You’d been close enough to shout a greeting. “Forty feet. Maybe a little less.”

Beside you, Javi sucks in a sharp breath. 

Perez purses his lips. “Sí, eso lo haría.” He crosses the room, flicking a switch to illuminate a bright white panel built into the wall that you hadn’t noticed before. He shuffles through your chart, pulling out a dark film and pinning it to the light. 

It’s your chest x-ray. You can clearly see the curve of your ribs, stark white against the darker background of your lungs. In the middle of the film lies the dusky outline of what you assume is your heart. To the lower left, a patch of hazy, white blur mars the image. 

“This is the problem.” Perez points to the blur. “Pulmones magullados. Your lungs are bruised, see? This is common in blast zone survivors. The change in air pressure when the bomb ignites causes an injury to the lung tissue. You are bleeding just a little bit internally.”

You can damn near feel Javi gritting his teeth at that.

“But I felt fine,” you protest weakly, looking assentingly at the blob on the x-ray. It’s a pretty good size.

“Sí, you were fine.” Perez is nodding along with you, like he’d expected the argument. “That’s normal with this type of injury. You felt good immediately afterward because the bruise was new, the bleeding slight. But the bruise has gotten bigger, and you have gotten worse.” He indicates the oxygen that you are wearing with a grim nod. “You are a very lucky, mi amiga, to have walked away from that. Muy afortunada. Had you been closer…” Perez trails off, shaking his head somberly. “It does not bear thinking.”

He claps his hands, startling you away from the grisly images stirring in your mind. “There is good news, though!” Perez gestures toward the x-ray as a whole, circling over it with his index finger. “I see no rib fractures, nothing collapsed. Your breathing might get worse before it gets better, but it will get better. We will keep you under close watch until then.”

“Keep me?”

“Sí, you will be here.” Perez pins you with a no-nonsense stare, as if to curtail any protests before they come. “There’s another matter. You have a small concussion as well. To this area, here.” He taps the back of his own head with his hand. “From falling down, yes?”

You nod. The area he’s pointing to is right where your head hurts most, where you’d fallen backward after the blast. “Yes. It did knock me off my feet.” Apparently a with a little more force than you’d initially assumed.

Perez hums. “We will monitor that as well. You do not take blood thinners?”

“No, sir. No medications.”

“Bueno.” Dr. Perez seems genuinely pleased by this. “You’ve made my job very easy.” He gathers the film and shuffles it back into your chart, flopping it shut with a flourish. “Rest for you, Orejas. Time and sleep will do the best healing.”

“Orejas?” you can’t help but ask. It’s the name that Emilio had used for you, but you’re shocked that Perez knows it. 

Perez smiles. “I listen to my nurses. That is what they call you.”

“How much time?” Javi interrupts before you can respond. You’d nearly forgotten about him, as quiet as he’s been. 

Perez turns to address him for the first time. “It depends largely on her body. The concussion is small, and won’t require anything in the way of treatment. Her lungs, though…” Perez frowns down at the closed chart with a furrowed brow. “The contusion is still developing. A few days, a week, perhaps? I can say more tomorrow.” He turns back to you, sighing in sympathy. “I’m afraid you’re in for a stay, mi amiga.”

Well, fuck.

With that, Perez disappears just as quickly as he’d arrived, soft, quick footsteps echoing down the hallway, and silence falls once again over the room.

Javi doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. He’s standing very still, arms folded tightly across his chest with his thumbs digging into his armpits. The expression on his face is downright chilling. 

Your blood turns to ice.

“What the fuck, Ears?” he says very slowly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision.

You glance up, suddenly hesitant to speak. The little movement must be enough to spur him on, though, because Javi fucking explodes. 

“Forty fucking feet!” he bites out, clawing angrily at his hair. He paces the tiny room, whirling as he runs out of space and pointing an accusing finger at you. “You told me you were across the street, Ears, not crossing it. There’s a big fucking difference.”

You blink at him, recalling the conversation you’d had in the embassy parking lot. 

Shit, he’s right.

“Why the hell did you lie to me?” There’s a subtle warble in his tone, a flicker of devastation in his eyes that’s quickly masked. 

Discomfort that has nothing to do with your injured lungs twinges in your chest. “I don’t know,” you answer miserably. You hadn’t thought of it as lying. At the time, you’d been overwhelmed by the situation and thoroughly confused by Javi’s erratic behavior, just desperate to get home and sleep off the worst morning of your life. “I didn’t want to upset you, I guess.” 

Javi laughs sarcastically. “Well, you’ve done a fucking fantastic job of that, haven’t you?” He throws his hands in the air, like he’s had it up to here with your shit. “Coughing up blood all over my kitchen floor. Christ, I should have known.”

Okay, now he’s being a little dramatic - the only blood you’d coughed up had been into your fingers, after all, but the protest is lost on you as you look him in the face. Javi’s eyes are deeply shadowed, his expression pained, his hair standing wildly from where he’s run his fingers through it. 

He looks thoroughly exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, dropping your gaze to the floor.

Javi huffs and looks away, clearly not ready to accept any apologies from you.

You don’t blame him. Throughout this entire screwed up relationship, you’ve done an absolutely piss poor job of putting yourself in Javi’s shoes, and it’s coming back to bite you in the ass.

You deserve his irritation, and more.

Javi’s pager beeps, the shrill sound of it slicing through the tension. He snatches it roughly off of his belt, frowning down at the display with squinted eyes.

You glance up at the clock on the wall. It’s pretty late, but given the day Javi’s had, it’s not outrageous to assume that somebody would need to be in touch with him at this hour.

 “I’ve got to take this,” Javi says tonelessly, hardly glancing up at you. If there’s any regret there, it’s buried very deeply. “I’ll see you later, Ears.”

He’s gone before you can get a word in edgewise.

♠

confessions/notes:

I speak one language poorly, and I’ve never extensively written a character who is not a primary English speaker (I’m not counting Javi here). Any critiques or corrections to my Spanish are very welcomed!

Up next: a look at things from Javi’s POV.

Spanish translations: 

She speaks English. 

Dry

She’s been coughing up blood.

I see. 

Yeah, that’ll do it.

ears

tags:@jedi-mando, @perropascal, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites​, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty​

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh, @1800-fight-me​

To my taglist peeps, I’m sorry for tagging you guys three times in 24 hours. Again, chaotic jay cannot plan anything, like ever.

#Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña #narcos #pedro pascal #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña fanfic #reader insert #hurt/comfort #fluff #narcos netflix #narcos fanficiton #narcos fanfic #better love #aftershocks

[mimisempai]

When you kiss me, you speak to my soul

Summary:

5 times when Loki receives an unexpected kiss and once when he gives one. (or more)

______

This story inaugurates a new series.

"Together, for all time, always"

This series is my way out in case our boys don't canonically have a happy ending.Background: After the events of the TV show, all the members of the TVA are aware of their status as variants and decide to work together on a better TVA. The main team is composed of Loki, Mobius, Sylvie and Miss Minute. The rest will come as time goes by. The stories do not necessarily follow each other.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203465

3123 words - Rating G

1.

"Okay Loki! You know that in order to get your time travel pass, you have to prove that you know the rules perfectly."

Loki, annoyed, rolled his eyes and sighed,

"Honestly, I'm a rehabilitated variant, god of mischief, who saved the TVA from its slavery, that pass should be granted to me without going through any fucking tests!"

Miss Minutes jumped in front of Loki and pointed her little finger in the direction of Loki's nose, "Ttttt a god don't swear! And when the new TVA administration, of which you are a part, put the rules in place, you all decided to start over. With a new, admittedly less rigid, but still regulated basis that you signed up!  Come on, only two more points to validate!"

Loki grumbled, itching to send the little clock flying.

Unperturbed, Miss Minutes continued, "Tell me the basic rules of time travel? "

Loki began to recite in a bored tone, "Do not interact with yourself, do not interact with your ancestors, do not interact with historical figures. Don't interact with the big events in history even if it means not being able to save everyone. Pay attention to small details and use your time wisely.

"Perfect my little Loki!"

"Hey, a little respect Miss Mimi!"

The little clock coughed and Loki noticed a slight flush on her little cheeks.

"Well, then explain to me the three major paradoxes of time travel."

Loki, keeping the same jaded look on his face, recited again, "The Grandfather Paradox, if you go back in time to kill your grandfather, you effectively kill your father, and therefore yourself. The Predestination Paradox is simply when your past self is the very cause of your need to travel back in time. This creates an endless loop of travel, which is why it is also called a closed causal loop. Finally, the Bootstrap Paradox. It occurs when something is returned, often to the traveler himself, negating the need for its creation in the first place."

The little clock jumped all over Loki's desk, clapping!

"Yay my little Loki! You'll be allowed to get your pass validated!"

Loki, happy but irritated by the little machine, asked him, "So that means I don't need your lessons anymore, right?"

"Absolutely!"

Loki rubbed his hands together as he said, "Perfect."

He began to move his hand, thinking of a spell to cast on the annoying little clock.

A voice whispered in his ear, "Loki... what did we say about spelling those weaker than ourselves?"

Loki turned to Mobius with a pout, "but Mobiuuus, just a little spell!"

Mobius bent down and took the hand with which Loki was about to cast his spell.

He said softly, "These hands do such beautiful magic, it would be such a shame to make them cast second rate spells."

He laid a gentle kiss to the back of Loki's hand and then walked away with a quiet step.

Loki, slightly surprised, touched lightly with his other hand the place where Mobius' lips had lingered.

Then he got up quickly, knocked over his chair and ran behind him.

Miss Minute, who had witnessed the scene, raised her eyes to the sky and returned to her screen.

2.

Mobius was waiting outside the elevator.

"Mobius!"

Mobius turned around, Loki was coming towards him with a quick step. He looked at his watch and said with a slightly reproachful tone, "You'll really have to learn to be on time!"

Loki, with a cheeky grin on his face, replied, "I find I'm making progress, yesterday I was 13 minutes late and today only 11."

Mobius rolled his eyes and was about to answer him when they were interrupted by the voiceover from the elevator.

"The elevator is momentarily out of order, please use the service stairs."

Mobius walked to the door next to the elevator and held it open, waving his hand towards Loki.

"After you."

Loki walked past him and began to descend the stairs.

Almost arriving at the bottom, Mobius, on Loki's heels, put a hand on his shoulder and turned him to face him.

"What's wrong?" Loki asked him, surprised.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's fine," Mobius replied softly before taking his face in his hands and leaning in to kiss him.

A few moments later, they separated to catch their breath.

Loki gasped slightly, asking Mobius, "I'm not complaining, but what was that for?"

As they finished descending the stairs Mobius replied, "It was the perfect opportunity to reverse the roles, for once I was the one who had to bend over to kiss you."

Loki was still smiling as they walked through the door.

As they passed by the elevator, the door opened to reveal the other members of their team.

"Huh? Is the elevator fixed yet? We took the stairs because they reported that the elevator was momentarily out of order, like... three minutes ago."

"What? But we got on it three minutes ago, four floors higher than you."

Loki looked back at Mobius with a little doubt.

Mobius replied, "Just because you're the god of mischief, doesn't mean you're the only one who can use it."

3.

"Argh, for crying out loud, dates, more dates, always dates!!!"

Loki rubbed his eyes trying to fight the fatigue that was overtaking him.

He stood up, took a few steps to stretch his legs before returning to his seat and continuing to flip through his files.

"Need a helping hand?"

Mobius put his hand on Loki's shoulder and gently squeezed it before sitting down across from him without waiting for an answer.

He continued, "I know this isn't your favorite part of the job, Loki, but it's part of it and I'm glad to see that despite your reluctance, you're not afraid to pitch in.

Loki grunted, "I just don't think it's fair, Sylvie never has to do this kind of work. She's always out there."

"Have you been traveling through time, through all kinds of apocalypses like her for that long?"

"Hmph!Always the voice of wisdom huh?"

Mobius snickered, "Me? No, of course not, but the wiser of the two of us, that I am."

"You prick!" muttered Loki.

"Hey, I heard that!"

They both immersed themselves in the files.

After two hours, Mobius saw Loki get up.

"I'm going to stretch my legs for two minutes."

"Okay."

Five minutes later he saw a small bowl of salad appear in front of his eyes.

Loki said to him as he sat down, "to make up for my bad mood of earlier."

Mobius put his hand on Loki's forearm, "Loki, there is nothing to forgive.  You are allowed to have mood swings. I'm not asking you to be someone else. But thank you for the consideration."

He ate the salad Loki had brought him while the god got back to work.

A little later, he was disturbed in his research by a light snore, he looked up at the familiar sight of Loki asleep, his head on his crossed arms.

He had a fond smile. He knew that this kind of work must seem tedious to someone like Loki and yet, even though he grumbled and acted like a drama queen on a regular basis, it didn't stop him from working seriously.

Looking at the time, he thought they had worked enough for today.

He stood up and whispered in his partner's ear, "Loki, wake up. It's late. We're done for the day."

As Loki slowly opened his eyes, Mobius placed a kiss on the top of his head before getting up and going to put the files away.

Loki straightened up and was stretching again when Mobius returned.

"Was I dreaming or did you kiss me on the head?"

"Unfortunately my sleeping beauty's lips weren't accessible so I had to settle for kissing the top of her head to get her to wake up."

Mobius winked at her and headed for the door.

He turned and said again, "Are we going home?"

Loki, who still hadn't gotten used to the warmth these few words provoked in him, quickened his pace to join him.

4.

When Mobius arrived at the cafeteria, he saw Loki concentrating at the dessert counter.

He joined him, placing his hand on his lower back to signal his presence.

"You look completely absorbed in the contemplation of these desserts. Do you have a favorite?"

Loki turned his head toward him and grumbled, "There's always so much to choose from. And every time there's a new kind. I don't even know what to choose. In Asgard there was fruit and... fruit."

Mobius was amused every time Loki was faced with this kind of problem. He made it an insurmountable challenge. This time, Mobius offered to help him.

"If you want we'll take several and share."

Loki nodded, " You choose, because I don't know what to take."

"Okay, go sit down, I'll pick and join you."

Mobius took a sample of several desserts, located the table Loki was sitting at and joined him.

They spent the next hour sharing the dessert plate. It was just the two of them left in the cafeteria. Loki was finishing the tiramisu while Mobius was bringing a last spoonful of chocolate mousse to his mouth.

"So, have you made your choice? What's your favorite?"

Loki licked his lips and replied, "Undoubtedly the tiramisu."

He put his spoon down and asked Mobius, "What about you?"

Mobius, who was sitting next to him, moved closer and looking at Loki's lips, murmured softly, "I'm hesitating between the chocolate mousse and the tiramisu."

He closed the distance between them and placed his lips on Loki's. Loki parted his lips and let Mobius explore his mouth with his skilled tongue. Mobius finished the fierce kiss with a light bite on Loki's lower lip, soothing him with a final lick. Then he moved back.

"I think in the end, tiramisu is my favorite."

5.

They had just returned from the mission and were in the locker room.

Loki was putting his things away in his locker. As always after a successful mission, he was so excited that he was talking non-stop.

Replaying the events in detail, and because he was Loki, he didn't hesitate to emphasize the moments when he and Mobius had been particularly good.

The rest of the team was used to it and listened with one ear.

Mobius smiled fondly.

Continuing to babble, Loki followed the rest of the team for the post-mission debriefing.

As he walked out the door, he felt himself being pulled back. Then a hand reached into his hair and pulled out the tie that held it together.

He looked back at Mobius who was putting the rubber band in his pocket.

"Mobius?"

Mobius walked over to him.

"Why did you do that?"

Mobius replied with a mischievous smile, "Because when you have your hair tied back, I can't do that."

He raised his hand, and pushed behind Loki's ear the strands of hair that fell over Loki's face, letting his hand linger on the god's neck.

" Neither this."

With his hand on the back of Loki's neck, he ran his fingers through Loki's hair to comb it before gently grabbing it and pulling his head back slightly.

Having cleared with this gesture the throat of Loki, he deposited a rain of butterfly kisses.

Loki sighed, his lips parted, "Mobius..."

Mobius moved back again leaving his hand in Loki's hair.

"Nor this."

He raised his second hand and joined it with the first on the back of Loki's neck, tangling his fingers in the long black strands before pressing gently, forcing the god to tilt his head forward. Their lips were so close that each could feel the other's breath. Mobius pressed his lips to Loki's, his fingers clutching his hair as the god's hands found his waist.

Their kiss was long and slow, and when Mobius pulled back, nipping at Loki's bottom lip, He saw that his eyes were clouded and his mouth wide open.

"That's exactly why I like you better with your hair loose."

With a smile, he kissed Loki briefly on the cheek and headed for the locker room door, the bouncy step of one who has just won a victory, oblivious to Loki's hungry stare.

+1

Loki had had enough.

Mobius obviously enjoyed starting fires with Loki and never extinguished them.

Loki was on edge.

Not that Loki didn't appreciate Mobius' spontaneous displays of affection and kisses, the man was extremely inventive and talented, but he felt like a ball of clay in his hands.

His pride as a god of mischief was at stake!

He had to regain the upper hand, just a little, just a few moments.

"Hoho miss Minutes, looks like someone needs to get laid!"

"Hey Syl! I'm just a pure little watch. I don't want to know anything about your sex lives!"

Sylvie sitting with her feet up on Loki's desk fluttered a paper cutter in the air and snickered back, " Which sex life Mimi?"

The watch returned to the screen and grumbled, "Never mind, Loki and Mobius's love life is none of my business! Hmph!"

Loki with his hands on his hips and a dark look in his eyes, muttered to Sylvie, "Don't you have a job to do instead of gossiping with that piece of junk clock?"

"Hey jerk! I heard you!" Shouted the little voice from the monitor.

"It's so much more interesting to watch you mope about your mustachioed prince."

Loki slumped into the other chair, a sulky look on his face.

"It's not so bad though?" asked Sylvie, studying him, her chin on her hand.

Loki told her everything, from the kiss on his hand to the fiery kiss in the locker room.

"And you dare to complain?!" Sylvie asked him, quite irritated, "You have a man who is completely devoted to you, and full of attention for you.  Do you realize how lucky you are?"

"Wait, Syl! It's not that I don't like it. On the contrary, but... argh" Loki tugged at his hair, "I don't know how to say it, before, the Loki before the TVA, I've always been a hedonist who enjoys the pleasures of life, who takes and throws, but now, even though I'm still a hedonist, I don't just want to consume anymore, I want to give too. And right now I feel like I'm the only one receiving."

"Aw, you're cute you know."

"Hey! Don't make fun of me!"

"But no, well just a little bit, but really Loki, the fact that you're thinking about this, shows how much you've evolved right? Have you even tried talking to Mobius about it?"

Loki shook his head, "You know me, I often talk a lot to mask my insecurities and also because I like to listen to myself talk, but anyway what I mean is that when it's serious I'm unable to express myself properly."

"And show him?"

"How?"

Sylvie rolled her eyes, "Loki, are you the god of mischief or not? You are capable of seducing anyone! Don't embarrass me!"

A few moments later, alone in his office, he thought back to this discussion.

How could he surprise Mobius?

Mobius who knew how to read all his tricks...

Of course! The answer was obvious!

What better way than a direct approach!

He waited for the right moment and went to Mobius' office, sure to find him there.

As he walked through the door, Mobius looked up, a smile blooming on his face as he saw Loki.

"Loki!" He wanted to stand up, Loki stopped him by waving his hand. With one hand he locked the office door and with the other, using a flick of his wrist, he turned Mobius's chair around before walking towards him.

Then, without warning his lover, he straddled Mobius' lap and framed his face with his hands before throwing himself on Mobius' mouth.

Mobius pushed him back slightly and managed to articulate, panting, "Wait, wait, wait Loki! What's the matter with you? Not that I'm against it, but I'm surprised, pleasantly surprised, that you'd take the initiative like this."

Loki with his forehead and lips against Mobius' replied, equally breathless, "The problem is that my lover has been teasing me all week, kissing me everywhere and at any time, and hasn't given me a chance to return the favor, so now you shut up and let me kiss you! It's my turn!"

As Loki resumed the interrupted kiss, Mobius decided, with the last fragment of coherent thought he possessed, that all he had to do was enjoy it. He just ran his hands over Loki's hips pressing him closer until there was no more space between them.

He tried to control the kiss, but Loki would not let him, and finally, after a brief struggle, he gave in to the kiss and the shivers of pleasure that ran down his spine.

He believed to be out of air when Loki moved back slightly and fixed him, the eyes shining with satisfaction, licking his lips like a cat which had just devoured a pot of cream.

They slowly caught their breath and Mobius couldn't help but gently tuck a lock of Loki's hair back behind his ear in a gesture that was becoming more and more familiar.

Loki leaned into Mobius' hand.

"Hey Loki, more seriously," Mobius told him softly, "does it bother you that I'm acting like this? Because you know you can tell me."

Loki sighed, "It doesn't bother me per se, it's just the lack of reciprocity, the fact that I'm receiving a lot and giving nothing."

Mobius shook his head with a smile, "Sweetheart," he couldn't help but notice that Loki seemed to appreciate the endearment, "that's not how it works. When you kissed me just now, did you feel pleasure?"

Loki, indignant, protested, "Yes, of course I-"

Mobius put a finger to his lips.

"It's the same for me, you know. I am aware that in your head the gears are spinning wildly non stop, but in such cases, don't think. Just enjoy it, there's nothing selfish about it."

Loki nodded, then passionately kissed his lover once more, until they were both out of breath again.

Then Loki traced a path of kisses from Mobius' chin to his ear and nibbled on his lobe before whispering, his breath making Mobius shudder, "The rest is for later my love..."

He stood up and headed for the door while swaying his hips, fully aware of the gaze that followed him.

Then before he walked through the door, he threw over his shoulder, with a mischievous smile, "I too can light a fire and make you burn for me."

_________

Not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

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