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astroboots · 11 months

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Rainy Night Patrol

CO-WRITTEN WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Summary: Miguel comes home after a night of patrolling with a lot of pent up tension to find you sound asleep.

Content: Somnophilia, panty-tearing practises (in this fucking economy?!??! I know gurl) jerking off with panties kind of? overprotective Miguel is our favourite Miguel. Rough sex. Multiple orgasms and overstimulation (cause do I evern write anything else anymore?). Implied violence against random street criminals.

A/N: Pre-established relationship with pre-established consent for somnophilia.

Word Count: 4,800

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

Rainy nights in New York are the fucking worst.

It brings out the worst in people. Stressed-out bankers who will push old ladies out of their way to get to a seat on the subway. Drunken assholes who piss everywhere, making everything reek, and alleyway mugging seems to increase by a disproportionate amount whenever it's pouring.

It surprises Miguel that street robbery even happens outside of comic books anymore. Do these people not have a computer? Cybercrime is a thing. A successful phishing scam targeting a bank employee can net millions overnight.

Yet here Miguel is, headbutting this public nuisance for trying to rob and assault a sorority girl on her way home, fists eating into the man's face. Even though it is evident by now that there is no way the man has a fighting chance, he refuses to stop. He's hissing and spitting at Miguel, lunging at him with the ferociousness of a rabid racoon.

The easiest solution would be to bite and paralyze and call it a night. But from the reek of stale sweat and copious body Axe spray coming off of this asshole, Miguel has no desire to put any part of this man's body into his mouth.

So here Miguel is, putting this bargain-bin Sylvester Stallone wannabe in a headlock and slamming his head into a street lamp in an attempt to knock the man unconscious, instead of where he wants to be: home, in your questionably sized apartment and lumpy feeling bed.

Christ, he hates this city.

By the time it's all said and done, and everything is wrapped up, it's already past midnight. As he slinks in through the window sill into your bedroom, you're fast asleep.

You're lying on top of the quilts, the bedside lamp still on, which means you've been up waiting for him, even though you're supposed to have an early morning tomorrow. Something, something about how it's year-end and you have to present... something or the other.

It's... endearing that you still do that, try to wait up for him every night, even though you should know by now that more often than not, he'll be home much too late for you to still be awake.

Climbing inside the bedroom, the post-fight adrenaline is still surging through his veins. He's riled up, irritated. There's heat brandishing under his skin that is pushing at the edges begging for an outlet.

He glances in your direction. You look so soft in the dim bedroom light, half of your face buried into the pillow.

No, tonight is not the night. You need your sleep.

With a shake of his head, he walks over to his side of the bed, letting the Unstable Molecule fabric of his suit recede until he's left standing naked in the half-darkness of your bedroom.

Dragging away the sheet, he tucks it over you, you hum and shift in your sleep. Leg swinging Akimbo over to his side before he's even had the chance to lay down. The oversized sleep shirt does nothing to disguise the curves of your body, falling completely off one shoulder and riding up to reveal the tantalizing curve of your bare thigh.

Shit.

His mouth waters at the sight, cock half hard just from watching you. It's not helped by the adrenaline still buzzing in his head. It wouldn't take much to get him the rest of the way there.

Miguel groans and rubs the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the tension growing between his temples. How exactly is he supposed to be getting any sleep with you lying next to him, all soft heat and sweet little hums that make him want to grind up against you like a cat in heat?

The weight in the bed shifts as you roll back away from him. A quiet snore issues from where you’re digging your face deeper into the pillow, clearly exhausted.

Fuck, guess he's just going to have to try. It'd be cruel to wake you now.

He slides into bed next to you, settling for the comforting warmth of you next to him, as he curls one arm around your waist and wraps himself around you. Burying his face into the warm nape of your neck and taking a deep inhale. The smell of your shampoo and soap that pleasantly lingers on his skin, washes away the memories of the stench of rain-soaked streets of this city, the disgusting smell of sulphur and piss.

New York throws a lot of stuff in his way. Muggers, arsonists, would-be murderers. It's nothing he can't handle. And he can handle what it throws at you too. Whether it is torrential rain or some freak force of nature threatening to put you in harm's way, it doesn't matter. He keeps you safe. And despite all the close calls, you're still here. Still alive. Still his.

His hand slides over the curve of your thigh at the thought, needing to feel your warmth underneath his fingertips. Goosebump prickles your skin at his caress, and he watches the way your back arches, pressing into his touch, even in your sleep.

A slow steady warmth blooms in his chest at your reaction. It's a heady blend of protectiveness but also pride. The universe itself can throw any tantrum it wants. He'll protect you from it all.

Your eyes stay shut, still clearly asleep, but your mouth parts with a needy hum, and Miguel gives you what you want, easing your body back into his arms. Like clockwork, you snuggle back against him, and the slight wiggle of your ass brushing against his front ensures there's no half about how hard is dick is anymore.

Needy heat rolls off his back in waves, and he slides one hand under the hem of your shirt and up along the softness of your stomach. If you were awake, you would be leaping away and smacking him for tickling you. But now the touch just makes you stretch and let out a contented little hum, your nipples already drawn up tight and hard for him by the time he reaches them.

Why are you so reactive when you're sound asleep? Part of him thinks you must be doing this on purpose; there's no way you can't be when he feels you shift again, the soft lace of your panties brushing up against his aching cock. He palms your hip, following the edge of the lace down over the curve of your ass, then hesitates.

You only pull out the lacey panties when you really want to rile him up. Saving them for special occasions because (as you never fail to mention while scolding him whenever he's ripped another pair in the heat of the moment) 'fancy underwear isn't cheap!' One of these lacey thrilly little things easily would set you back at $80 a pop. Miguel isn't exactly hard pressed for cash, but he sees your point.

Still Miguel doesn't know what he is supposed to do when you keep pressing back against him the way you are at the moment. He grits his teeth, jaw muscles protesting as he grinds them together, knowing fully well he's fighting a losing battle. It’s really only a matter of time. Miguel isn't a fucking saint, and right now the need riding the length of his spine is burning hot enough to incinerate him.

Oh fuck it!

Hooking a finger around the hem of your panties, he eases them to the side, and his hips hitch forward, rubbing himself against you. Sharp pleasure skitters along his back, and he has to bite down the groan in his throat. He draws back, and does it again, letting his cock ride along the curve of your ass. Letting his aching, leaking cock settle between your cheeks, the delicate lace trapping him in place against you.

You’re definitely gonna bitch at him later for stretching out the elastic. But that's okay, you'll forgive him, the way you always do.

He holds there, gently rolling his hips, doesn't go too forceful or too eager with his thrusts, some half-formed intention to not wake you. Thighs shaking as he savors the contrast between your smooth skin and the textured lace. He tells himself that he should take it slow and not disrupt your sleep. But Miguel's never been a patient man.

His hands are already moving, reaching, before his brain has anything to say about it, fingers hitching your panties even further to the side, and fuck the elastic, he'll buy you a new pair. Shit, he'll buy you twenty new pairs. A whole fucking store of panties if that's what you want.

He pulls back, presses forwards again, cock sliding between those plush thighs, the head, slick with precome, gliding smoothly against you.

And fuuuuuck.

He drops his forehead against your shoulder, eyes squeezing shut to ground himself. He can feel how wet you are, drenching his cock as he skims the hard length over and through your slick folds. You're warm and inviting and oh so fucking tempting. You may still be fast asleep, but your body is telling him it’s oh so very ready for him.

God you feel so fucking good.

Angling his hips, he slides the sensitive head of his dick against your slick folds, notching himself against your entrance, gritting his teeth against the way your pretty pussy clenches at the threat of invasion. He holds himself there, breath hissing between his teeth as he teases you both, with tiny, incremental movements forward, in, and back.

Pleasure swirls through him, hot and heady, his ears buzzing with electricity. He's lost in it, but not so far gone that he misses the noises you're making, your reaction. Those little sounds of dissatisfaction, the way your back arches, pressing your hips back against him. All of it telling him the same thing.

He presses his mouth to the corner of your shoulder. Has to hide the feral grin threatening to break out, because for all his vague intentions of letting you rest, part of him has been waiting for this. Part of him has been aiming for this exact outcome.

You. Awake. Fully ready to take him.

He presses forward again, just far enough that the head of his cock slips inside you, and is rewarded by your body clenching warm and wet around him.

Fuck, you feel too good. You always fucking do. It punches the breath right out of his lungs, needy heat singing through his veins and along every nerve ending in his body until he goes dizzy with it. There are advantages and disadvantages to enhanced senses, and right now, he's fully feeling both. Needs to get on with it, because he intends to have you coming on his cock at least twice before he's done.

Hooking an arm around your waist, he cups your mound. He stays there, pressing with his fingers and the heel of his palm, until he's rewarded by your hips hitching forward into the pressure, then rocking back again, causing you to sink down further onto him. A gasp and a small soft moan falls from between your lips.

He does it again, encouraging you to rock forward and then back again, taking him deeper each time. Inch by brain wracking inch, you take him in. He can feel your tight little pussy stretch around him, adjusting to his cock, as he presses your hips back and back and back until you're taking him all down to the root. Until he’s buried as deep as he can go.

Somehow it's not enough. Not when he's waited this long.

He centers three fingers over your clit through the lace of your panties, resting the heel of his hand just above your pubic bone, and then he presses down.

Your pussy clenches tight, and you jolt hard against him, gasping awake with a breathy 'oh' that does funny things to his brain. Makes rational thought skitter away from him, and when he hears his name on a long gorgeous drawn out moan everything inside him roars to attention.

"Miguel."

Satisfaction thrums under his skin. You’re awake, and he wants you awake for this. Wants you to know exactly who is about to fuck your brains out.

"That's right, nena," he croons, easing his hips back, and skimming his lips up from your shoulder to nip at your exposed neck, careful not to break the skin, relishing the sound of the perfect little gasp of yours. "I'm right here. You ready for my big cock, baby?"

"It– mmmmmm– It feels…" you mumble, voice still stumbling and sleepy.

He slams back into you just as you're trying to find your words, taking a bit too much pleasure in interrupting them when he hears you whine out a breathy, "Fuck, fuck!"

"What's that?" Miguel raises a hand to your chin, cradling it in his palm, tilting you back until he can press his lips to the edge of your jaw. "What does it feel like, tell me."

"Fee-feels like– ngh– like I'm already– taking your big cock." Your words are staggered, stuttered out each time he fucks his cock into you, and Miguel smiles.

"You are," he tell you, "You're taking me so well, nena."

It's a struggle for him to get the words out smoothly. He’s rolling his hips at a steady pace, fucking you in earnest now that you're awake to appreciate it. Every slick slide into your needy little pussy has pleasure burning sharp and insistent through his nervous system, overwhelming and inescapable.

He pauses, moving his hand away from your clit for a second, and grins when you whine and clutch at his arm.

"Patience," he scolds you "I've got you. I'm just gonna..."

He tucks his hand under your panties, and you stiffen against him, making a sound like an outraged cat. He knows exactly what you're going to say even before the words leave your lips, so he ignores you, sliding his fingers along the boundary where you're stretched so wide around the base of him, getting them nice and slick.

"You didn't take off my panties!? Miguel, these are my good wuh– oh fuck."

The words cut off when he locates your hard little clit, settling two fingers over it this time, one on each side, the way he knows always drives you crazy.

"What was that, nena?" he bites back a smile, "Something you wanted to say, huh?"

You suck in a breath, but he doesn't give you a chance to answer, fucking into you hard, and wastes no time resuming his former rhythm. The only thing that comes out of your mouth is a broken moan.

"Sorry, baby," he teases, "I didn't quite catch that."

You don't answer. There's no way you're going to, not with the way your body is drawing up tight, gasping for breath as if he's driving every last ounce of oxygen from your lungs.

He knows your body as well as he knows his own, and he has you caught now, like spider with a fly in its web. He keeps holding you tight against him, hips angled to drive up against just the right spot inside you, the one that has you sobbing and clawing at him with every thrust, each one forcing you forward against the fingers he has bracketing your sensitive little clit.

No more words from that smart mouth of yours now, only gasps and whimpers and cut-off moans that might be the first syllable of his name.

You're clawing at his forearm, breath stuttering in and out of your lungs in staggered gulps. Your heart beating loud and fast and alive in your chest, and he can tell that you're close now. He can feel it in the way your tight little pussy clenches and quivers around him, clutching at his cock like it wants to hold him close, closer, closest.

"Mi– Mi– Mig–" The sound stutters out of you in time with his thrusts, high pitched and desperate—cut-off moans that might be the first syllable of his name, more whine than words. Pride swells in Miguel's chest at seeing you, hearing you like this, strung out and stuttering on his cock, begging him for your pleasure.

Pleasure that only he can give you.

"That's right, nena." He fucks into you hard. Can feel you clench around him relentlessly.

"I'm right here."

You're squeezing him so goddamned tight.

"Fucking you."

It takes everything in him to hold to the same angle, the same pace. To give you just what you need, the way only he can give it to you.

"Making you come," he bites out.

You writhe against him, whining louder now, sweet noises growing higher pitched.

"Come for me, nena," he demands, and you shudder against him, your voice rising into a wail.

Your hot little cunt clamps down tight, fluttering around him, and bright spots of pain bloom into pleasure as your fingernails dig into his arm, drawing blood. Your pretty eyes flutter shut as the whole of your body tenses under him.

Fuck, you're coming.

"That's– fuck– That's it," he grits out, slowing his thrusts, rocking against you gently to help draw out your orgasm. To buy himself a freaking second so you don’t take him over the edge with you. He keeps the soft rolling rhythm until the wracked shivers seizing your body settles. Counting down the seconds until the grip of your nails into his biceps is easing, and then…

"Again," he demands, snapping his hips forward, fucking into you hard, "Come for me again, nena."

Miguel locks his arm in place, holding you at the angle that will let him hit that perfect spot inside you every time, the one that makes your eyes roll back in your head, and he intends to have you seeing stars. He hears your breath leave you with a strangled noise, feels your pussy clench tight and perfect around his cock, and grins through gritted teeth.

If he times it juuuust right, he can send you over the edge a second time. He's done it before, forcing you into another orgasm before you've even come down from the first, and he’s not above using his enhanced reflexes to make you do it again.

And right now? The way you're writhing against him, hands and arms and pussy clutching at him, like you're trying to pull him closer—pull him in, despite the fact that he's already fucking you as deep as he can go. All of that tells him his timing was spot-fucking-on today.

It doesn't take long. It never does when he makes you come this way. And thank fuck for that, because the feel of you clenching around him is almost enough to take him over the edge with you. He has to grit his teeth as he slows to the gentle rocking rhythm you like best when you’re coming. His free hand fisting in the bed sheets, claws digging into them in a way he knows will earn him another scolding later. But R.I.P. your damn linens. Better them than him. You may have come twice, but Miguel's not ready to be done with you just yet.

This time, when you come down, he keeps things slow and gentle until you go loose and boneless. Forces himself to slows further until every muscle in your body melts under his grip. You sink down into the mattress with a little sigh, like you're ready to drift back off to sleep just like this, safe and snug in his arms, his hard cock still buried inside of you.

And if he wasn't so hard up, skin crawling with need and desperation, maybe he'd let you.

But that’s not happening tonight.

Unfortunately for you, Miguel's too hungry for you. Starving. Wants to lick and bite and swallow you down to the very marrow of your bones.

He's been good. He's been patient. Has held himself back while he made you come. Twice. Satisfaction burns bright in his chest, almost as bright as his need for you. Two fucking times he's gritted his teeth, holding back his own orgasm by the skin of his fucking fangs as that pretty little pussy came around his cock, squeezing him so tight that for a second he was sure he'd black out and see god behind his eyelids.

Miguel is out of patience.

Any intention to go easy on you because you need the rest is gone. Any consideration for your early morning tomorrow has flown the nest.

Hands on each side of your hips, he rolls the two of you, easily flipping you forward onto your stomach and drags you down along the bed. You stay limp and relaxed, as you let him move you like a ragdoll, positioning you the way he wants, head and chest resting against the matress, ass in the air.

Once he's got you where he wants you, he takes just a second to admire you, taking in the way those pretty lace panties highlight the curves of your ass but do nothing to conceal your slick center, pulled to the side as they are, leaving your pussy fully exposed, all pretty and puffy from how well he's fucked you and glistening in the low light.

You shiver under his heavy gaze, and he can see the way your pussy clenches, can see how wet you are, shining slick, halfway down your thighs.

Miguel must've taken too long with his one second. A soft inquisitive "hmmmmm?" emerges from where your head is buried in the pillow, and you rock your hips gently side to side.

His dick jerks at the obvious invitation. Precome oozes from the tip, and he takes himself in hand, lets himself stroke once to spread it along his length, as though he wasn't dripping with you already.

"What's that, nena?" he bites out. He's so fucking hard for you, cock aching from holding back, but even now, he can't help but tease and goad you. "You want more? You didn't get fucked good enough already? Does that pretty pussy want my cock?"

"Mmmmm.... yes," you say, one hand outstretched behind you, making a 'gimme' motion at him.

The gesture is ridiculous, but he can't help the way it makes his chest pull tight. You're always so ready to have him, no matter how much he tires you out. Suddenly, he can't wait another fucking second to be inside you again.

He starts to line himself up, the wet heat of you just kissing the head of his dick when you tense up and make a sound of alarm. Fear stings his spine, and he freezes.

"You okay, nena?" he asks, pulling away from you, suddenly terrified that he's hurt you somehow.

Miguel has always been big—even before the "accident" that changed him—and he's bigger now, exponentially stronger. He’d thought he was being careful, but fuck, it'd be all too easy for him to let his strength get away from him, to go harder than you can handle.

"Are you hurt? Was I- Was I too rough?"

Because he forgets sometimes. Forgets that others don't heal at an accelerated rate like he does. That your body isn't protected by enhanced endurance that lets him walk off falling from a building, barely feeling the six broken ribs and fractured arm that results.

It's why he needs to protect you.

Always.

Unlike him, you can be hurt. Can be broken, can be killed. And if he’s hurt you, then he–

You make a negative sound, shaking your head.

"No, you big doofus," you mumble out into the pillow, and Miguel's heart slowly starts to ease its way out of his throat. "The panties. Take them off first. Don't want them to tear."

He stops, blinking in confusion as his eyes narrow down at you.

Your. Fucking. Panties!?

Really? His mouth curls down into a peeved frown. That's your fucking priority right now? After he's fucked you silly, made you come twice the way only he can?

"You want me to take your panties off, nena?" he demands, tone low and harsh, edging forward on the bed until he’s looming over you.

"Yes," you confirm. "They’re my last good pair." You’re nodding your head energetically in a way that tells him he hasn't done nearly as good of a job of tiring you as he thought. He’ll have to fix that.

With a snarl, he lances the crotch of your panties with a single claw, ripping them off your body.

"Miguel!" you squeak, clearly not expecting that, your voice pitched with disbelief, "Did you just–?"

"They were in the way," he manages to rasp out, lining himself up and pressing forward, unceremoniously shoving inside.

The tight, hot clench of your pretty pussy is blindingly good. It always fucking is. And just like always, Miguel is lost to it. He holds there, buried as deep in you as he can get, shuddering against you. He's damn lucky that extraordinary stamina comes bundled along with super-senses, or he'd probably come every damn time he slips inside you. It'd be all over at the first thrust.

Fuck, he has to move. He pulls out, and you gasp and claw at the sheets, shuddering under him as he starts to fuck you again. Obscene wet, squelching sounds fill the room, along with the echoing slap of flesh on flesh as he fills you over and over and over. You’re so fucking wet, so fucking perfect. He grits his teeth, trying to get a handle on the feeling, but it’s overwhelming.

Your hot, perfect little pussy clenches and flexes around his dick, and a blissful burn sears against his spine, streaking white and hot with pleasure. A tell-tale sign, warning him of what's to come if he doesn't stop. He sucks in a breath, trying to stave it off, barely hanging on to his control by the tips of his claws because he wants to feel you come around him one more time.

Because twice isn’t enough. Three times won’t be either. Nor would four, five, ten. Miguel’s greedy for you. Selfish. No matter how much you give him, it will never be enough. He will always want more of you.

More of your soft body pressed up against every inch of his. More of your eyes looking back at him, glazed over as if you have no coherent thoughts left in that pretty head of yours. He wants all of that and more. Another orgasm. Another fuck. Another kiss. One more breath. Just more, more, more.

He curls his hand around your throat, feels the chaotic race of your pulse under his fingertips.

"Come for me, nena," he demands, "I need it. Need to feel you."

He tilts your face up, your back arched like a bow towards him. So fragile. So trusting, that you let him do this to you.

He dips down to claim your lips, snapping his hips into yours faster now. Ramping up the pace as he chases his inevitable climax, forcing you to yours.

You whimper and keen with each thrust, eyes rolling wildly. Your mouth hangs open, panting out sweet, stuttered moans that he swallows in a bruising kiss. Your whole body tenses under him, going rigid, then your pretty pussy starts clenching down around him as you come again.

This time, Miguel can't hold himself back. Doesn't even try. Lets himself succumb to the sight, the sounds, the smell, the feel of you surrounding him, coming for him. His stomach draws in tight, toes curling into the sheets, as he can feel his balls drawing up, cock swelling further as he manages a last few ragged thrusts. Then he’s tumbling over the edge with you, burying himself as deep as he can as the unforgiving bliss rises and spreads, blotting out everything else.

It's endless. Pulses after devastating pulse that won't stop. He comes and comes and comes, emptying himself inside of you until he's lightheaded, barely able to hold himself.

No amount of supernatural stamina can help him in this moment. Not when he can feel his spend filling you to capacity and more, so full that it starts leaking out of you, down the line of your thighs and onto his. His strength gives out, and he collapses into the bed, bringing you down with him.

The two of you lay there, trying to catch your breath. You’re trapped under his weight, your small back heaving under his larger chest, sweat slicking your skin to his. He has no desire to move. Shifts slightly to the side, a concession to your need to breathe, but refuses to go farther than that. He wants to keep you right here, covered and cocooned by his body.

You tilt your head until you can peek over your shoulder at him. There's a look in your eyes, one that he has only ever seen on you. One just for him, filled with exasperated fondness, heat and loving familiarity. One he wouldn’t give up for anything.

"You're getting me new panties."

A warm huff of laughter escapes him. The bright warm glow in his chest spreads outwards, filling him with contentment.

"Sure, nena."

"And coffee in the morning," you add.

He hums in agreement because that's fair. You're going to be in zombie mode otherwise.

"And cupcakes for breakfast," you finish triumphantly.

Miguel turns his head to observe you, the way you're trying to hide that satisfied grin into the pillow to not betray how fucking over the moon you are right now after he's fucked you silly.

Smartass. Always pushing your damn luck. But it's not like he's going to ever say no to you is it?

He puts on a show of sighing loudly with mock exasperation. "From Gladis, yeah?”.

You nod into your pillow.

"Mmhmm."

He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, circling his arm around your waist, easily pulling you to his side.

The rain is still pouring down outside, but here in bed with your warm body pressed up against his side, the sound of it pitter-pattering against the window is almost soothing. He can feel his eyes slipping closed as it lulls him off to sleep.

The rain isn’t so bad when you’re warm and safe in his arms. Nothing is, as long as you’re here with him.

He’ll keep you safe.

Always.

Credits and Dedications: I have to give so so so so much credit to my clown-in-crime @thirstworldproblemss poor woman doesn't even go here, and spent the whole of her evening writing porn to me in my DMs. 90% of the porny parts have been written by her. So for all those who enjoyed this, please go to her inbox and send her much deserved love!!!

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara x you #marvel #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara fic

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probablyasocialecologist · 11 months

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Activists are “shoplifting” from supermarket shelves and dumping the proceeds straight into the stores’ food bank bins in a “redistributive action” to protest the cost of living and the climate crisis.

[...]

“The reason we’re doing this is that supermarkets in this country have been raising their prices ahead of the rate of inflation, essentially stealing from ordinary people in order to line their packets with profits.

“We’re acting against this in order to deliver food and necessities to the people of the community that need it the most in the middle of the cost of living crisis.”

The activist is seen ripping the security tag off a tub of baby formula. He says: “This is a basic need for every family with babies and it’s £18 in Asda, which is an immense price tag. […] Supermarkets are prioritising their profits over the safety and health of families in the community.”

Xander Cloudsley, 29, a community food co-ordinator and member of This Is Rigged, the campaign group behind the actions, said: “In my job, I’ve seen the lived reality of the cost of living crisis […] while corporate giants like Tesco are boasting astonishing profits year in and year out. I’m taking action because this disparity is sickening and profoundly unfair.”

The protest comes as food bank usage – already prevalent following austerity – has surged alongside spiralling inflation.

Many supermarkets now have collection bins for food banks. In 2018, Sainsbury’s trialled dedicated shelf-edge labels alerting customers to items that food banks need. In 2022, Tesco gained positive media attention for launching a “reverse food bank” where shoppers could buy and donate goods.

Meanwhile, supermarkets have also been accused of driving inflation. Analysis from trade union Unite shows the top three supermarkets – Tesco, Sainsbury’s and Asda – have taken advantage of increased food costs and doubled their profits to £3.32bn in 2021, up 97% on 2019. Unite’s general secretary Sharon Graham has called this “greedflation” – something supermarket bosses deny.

Ironically, supermarket workers, often poorly paid themselves, are amongst those forced to turn to food banks. One supermarket worker accused Tesco of “forcing us to use food banks, while using food banks to look good.”

#uk politics #food #poverty #food banks

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harleehazbinfics · 1 month

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I like to think that with the cannibal chef overlord spin off that Chef has a 5 star restaurant and it’s Hell’s Kitchen (love that show) and when she’s not with Alastor or the others she’s kinda like Gordon with her employees (btw the souls she owns) idk I think that would be so funny!

Like Alastor sees her working and yelling at everyone and he just has heart eyes 😍

A moment in Hell's Greatest Kitchen [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off]

a/n: ngl, i loved writing this. thank you for the ask!

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

"YOU FUCKING IDIOTS! CAN'T YOU PREPARE A SIMPLE MEAL?"

I flinch at the sound as I almost cut my finger from chopping the vegetables. I peeked out of lashes to see my boss cussing out my co-workers while they cooked sweating profusely from the heat and the insults being thrown at them.

"EVERYONE CLEAN YOUR STATIONS! IT LOOKS LIKE A GODDAMN PIGSTY HERE. I'M RUNNING A RESTAURANT, NOT SOME ESTABLISHMENT WHERE YOU BRAIN DEAD LITTLE PIGGIES CAN SHIT IN."

I immediately threw my peels in the bin and wiped the counter then placing my knives back to their drawer.

This was my boss. Hell's largest Cannibal Overlord, (y/n). Aside being a household name in hell to be wary of, she was also a well-respected chef. I idolized her even before we died. I lived during her era and even got the opportunity to work in her restaurant when we were alive. It was tough to get in and work with her, but it was tougher to stay there. Thankfully, luck was on my side to work with her for 6 years before her death.

She was as mean as she was before, however, I do get jumpy at loud noises. She was tough on us, prioritizing the customer's satisfaction and cleanliness around the

Even after she was outed as a cannibal and was executed I devoted myself to her and followed after her. Which led me here.

"You! Daniel! Pick up the pace! Table's 5 and 10 are done with their appetizers," she yells at me making me flinch and nod.

"Yes, chef!" I replied making her give me a nod of acknowledgement. i blush while doing my duties as I replay her calling my name in my head. 'She remembers me!' I scream giggling in my head.

"Pardon me. I apologize for getting in your way," the tall red deer demon apologizes after bumping into me, I nod dismissing it and stirred the pot I already seasoned.

He gives me a tight-lipped smile and walks forward to a corner to avoid getting in our way. He stares at Chef (y/n) with adoring eyes and a large smile as she pinched a sinner by the ear and twisting it then screaming on it. Which the red hair only gives out a dreamy sigh.

That was Alastor, the Radio Demon. He and my boss had a very special relationship, it's quite intimate from what I've seen. From what I heard, Alastor approached Chef (y/n) and submitted his soul to her, and from then on, they were inseparable. Chef had a soft side when it came to him, she'd latch on to him and lean on him even often baby talking to him. It had us all stunned when she first introduced Alastor to us, her change in demeanor was very telling she liked him a lot.

So, whenever we were in a pinch.

"Uh! Chef! Sir Alastor is here!" another sinner tells her, in an attempt to save our co-worker.

You then turn to the direction they pointed and skipped towards the deer, "Alastor, honey!" she greets before giving him a kiss.

The sinners in the back on their knees thanking the Radio Demon for saving their asses.

"Good morning, madam," he greets holding onto her waist, "A lively morning, isn't it?"

"It's better now with you around," (y/n) coos as she snuggles deeper into his embrace.

And this is how every morning in Hell's Kitchen. Gore, Food and Love.

🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader Taglist:

@bonnie-02 @marxo5 @whaatttlaufey @froggybich @rybunnie @midorichoco @lucifers-silhouette @kimmis-stuff @bontensbabygirl @janey @akiqvq @wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @roboticsuccubus83 @atlas-rin @yuriohoe04 @azullynxx @milk-bulb @hahalame @aria-tempest @speedycoffeedelight @0strawberrysorbet0 @amitiel-truth @corvid007 @kaminarithebest @enby-goblin @whydosnakesnotdance @wtvbabes @willow404 @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @manachpo @dionysusismypatrongod @obessivlyonline

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

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Co-Stars pt.10

Callum Turner X Actress! Reader

Summary: The journey of Y/n's pregnancy...

Warning: pregnancy/ mentions of throwing up/ mention of birth/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 2.1k

When she found out she was pregnant, Y/n was the happiest she’d ever been, but this happiness quickly faded into worry. She and her baby daddy were celebrities, her pregnancy was going to be all over social medias, her baby too. Callum and she talked about it and decided they wanted to keep it private. They told the cast that she was pregnant, because they should know, and their press tour wasn’t over. Yes, Master of the Air was out already, but the interviews didn’t stop. During the first weeks of her pregnancy, it was easy to hide, her belly was flat, and she didn’t have any symptoms. But as she was in her 7th week, she started to get morning sickness.

She tried to listen to all the questions and the answers of her co-stars, but she felt like throwing up. Luckly for her, the microphone wasn’t attached to her, it was a microphone that she held in her hand. She put it far away from her, so the public won’t hear her humming, it was a tip Callum’s mom gave to her to prevent her from throwing up. But it didn’t work. ‘’Nate, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I must go to the bathroom’’ she tried to hide her sickness in her voice. She got up and walked quickly backstage. ‘’Yeah, we can take a break, after Nate’s answer of course’’ The interviewer said. ‘’Oh, I was done, we can take a five-minute break’’ he said. Y/n was running to the bathroom, but an assistant was running next to her with a trash bin, in case she didn’t make it. She pulled the trash bin as she sat on a chair to empty her stomach in the trash. Callum walked up to her and pressed his hand on her back, to support her. He held her hair as she continued to puke her guts out. ‘’I’m sorry, I tried not to, but – ‘’ she threw up again. Austin and Anthony walked up to the couple; Nate was behind them. ‘’If my answer was that bad, you could’ve told me’’ he joked. Y/n looked at him, rolling her eyes before wiping her mouth with a tissue.

For the first few months, she succeeded in hiding her condition, but when her belly started to grow, it became harder. Her outfits became more baggy, which the internet found weird since she was always beautifully dressed. Some fans started to speculate about Y/n being pregnant, but the rumours stayed low. But when she reached mid second trimester, she decided to stop doing interviews, it was too risky. Now, the fans started to speculate, even the actors were asked questions about her not being with them anymore. They dodged the question and protected the secret of their colleague. Callum found it difficult, when she was with him, he could make sure that she was okay, now she was at home, he found it hard.

‘’The fans can’t stop asking about you, I think you should come to the next interview’’ Callum said, looking at his girlfriend, who was 8 months pregnant, with twins. It’s been a long time since she was in front of a camera, but he was right, the fans were becoming too much, and she should make a public appearance. ‘’Yeah, where’s the next one?’’ she asked, pushing on her arms to sit on the couch. ‘’It’s tomorrow, and it’s close, not a long drive’’ he said. ‘’Good, because the twins won’t be happy with me, dressing up and moving that much’’ she laughed. Her pregnancy was going well, because her doctor told her that if she wanted to go back to work, she could.

She was nervous, but the guys were so sweet. They were backstage, waiting for the interviewer to call them. ‘’It’s nice to see you back!’’ Ralf said, smiling. ‘’Thanks, I missed you guys’’ she breathed out. ‘’So please give it up for Austin Butler, Callum Turner, Anthony Boyle, Nate Mann, Ralf Laur, Barry Keoghan and the wonderful Y/n Y/l/n!’’ when the crowd heard her name, they made so much noise she thought the walls were going to collapse. But when they say her pregnant belly, the sound level exploded. Y/n smiled and waved at the crowd. She sat next to Callum and Austin. After minutes, the crowd finally went silent. ‘’Wow, you guys missed me that much?’’ Barry joked; he missed the last interview. Everyone laughed and waited for Y/n’s replies. ‘’Yes Barry, they were screaming for you’’ she teased, looking at him. She winked at the crowd and smiled. ‘’How are you, Y/n?’’ someone in the crowd yelled. ‘’I’m heavily pregnant with twins, thank you very much, how are you’’ she replied. The public laughed. ‘’Joke’s aside, I’m really great, I’m happy to be back’’ she said. The interview went well, but now, it was time for the public to ask questions. ‘’Before we start with the questions, please respect my private life, I will gladly answer your questions, but don’t push it’’ Y/n said. ‘’Hi everyone, I wanted to ask what’s a character trait or habit that stayed with you after filming?’’ the fan asked. Y/n raised her brows, the question was really good. The cast looked at each other, wondering who was going to go first. ‘’Well, Rose is a complex character. Uh, the thing I learned with her is that everyone is not invincible, it sounds stupid, but we often think that people, especially selfless people, can break sometimes and as a person that puts others first, it made me realise how important talking about it is. It might not be clear, but yeah, we’re all humans and you don’t know what people are going through.’’ She said, trying to be clear. The guys nodded. She smiled as she felt her babies kick, they were agreeing with her. Others answered and the microphone was passed to another fan. ‘’Hi, Y/n, Callum, how do you deal with the attention you’ve been getting since the beginning of the press tour?’’ one of the fans asked. They both looked at each other. ‘’It’s a lot, and we try to contain it, so it doesn’t affect people around us, like when Y/n posted the pictures on her Instagram and people were speculating about it, we had to ask Graham Norton to talk about our show, because that’s why we’re doing interviews, promote Master of the Air. So, we like it, but it can’t take too much in our lives’’ Callum said. ‘’That’s mainly one of the reasons why I came here today, people were only asking questions about me. So, we love it, but like Callum said, we love the attention, as long as it doesn’t become too much’’ she added.

It was time for the last question, fans were respectful with Y/n’s pregnancy, and she was grateful for it. ‘’Hi, Y/n I love you so much! Can I ask about what changed since you’re pregnant?’’ the fan was so sweet. ‘’Hi, uh, other than my body, my mentality changed a lot. I’m slowly realizing all the responsibilities that’s going to come with having twins. I also started to understand what parents mean when they say that it goes too fast. So, I’m understanding that I’m going to be a mother and it’s going to change me forever. But my body is the main change’’ she laughed. ‘’Do you know what you’re having, yet?’’ Anthony asked. ‘’Yes’’ she looked at Callum. ‘’We’re having two little girls’’ he said. The crowd cheered on the couple. ‘’Awn, do you have names yet?’’ Austin asked. They both nodded. ‘’We’re going to keep it secret until they come out, but yeah, we got it all figured out, the only thing that we don’t know is who the godfather is going to be’’ Y/n said. Barry and Anthony lifted their hand at the same time, making everyone laugh. ‘’You’re the godmother of my son, me!’’ Barry exclaimed, making Y/n laugh even more. ‘’We’ll come back to that later’’ Callum said, since his girlfriend was laughing too much, and wasn’t able to speak.

Austin sat at the end of the table; they were going to tell him that they wanted him to be the godfather. ‘’Why does this feel like an interrogation’’ he laughed. ‘’Sorry, we have something to ask you’’ Callum starts. ‘’Um, we want you to be the godfather of our girls’’ Y/n says, smiling. ‘’Are you joking?’’ he asks, smiling. ‘’No, we’re serious. You’ve always been there for us, and we want you to be there for our girls.’’ Callum explains. Austin’s eyes fill with tears as he nods. ‘’I would love to be the godfather of the babies you’re carrying’’ he says, looking at Y/n. When Austin stops talking, Y/n feels the babies kick, and they kick hard because she can see her belly move. ‘’I think they approved our choice’’ she laughs as she shows the two men the fight that’s taking place in her stomach.

The closer they were from the due date; the more Callum was freaking out and the more calm Y/n was. Frankly, Callum couldn’t understand how she was calm, she was about to push two babies out of her and looked like she came back from a Spa in Bali. ‘’Callum, honey, you’re giving me a headache, calm down. Everything is fine, I’m only 2 centimeters dilated, they can put me in the hospital when I’m at 3, we live 8 minutes away. It’s going to be fine’’ she giggled, seeing her boyfriend pacing around the living room. ‘’You are being too calm and it’s stressing me!’’ he said, looking at her. Y/n smiled and tried not to laugh. When she felt another contraction, she gave him a look, telling him to come sit down next to her so he could support her. But since he was stressing her, she asked him to go in their room and get her a new shirt, she was sweating. She breathed her way through it and timed it. She got up to walk around the house, in hope of making the contractions painless, but when she stood up, her water broke. ‘’Honey, don’t panic, but my water just broke’’ she shouted to Callum, he was in the other room. ‘’WHAT? IT’S HAPPENING?!’’ he yelled from their bedroom. ‘’Yes, it is’’ she replied.

Daisy Rose Turner and Ophelia Mary Turner, that was the name of the two newborns. Callum was holding Daisy, and Austin, who Y/n called to help Callum calm down, held Ophelia. Y/n was sleeping, the labour and delivery went on for 11 hours, she was a trooper. She did get the epidural, but her body was tired. Callum was so happy, he called his mom, telling her that his girls had her names as a middle name was something he was looking forward to ever since they decided on their names. When he broke the news, his mom immediately started to cry. Telling her son how proud of him she was and how excited she was to be a grandmother. ‘’Kaia was right, your children are so beautiful’’ Austin whispered. Callum smiled and looked at his daughters. ‘’Like their mother’’ he whispered back. Minutes later, Y/n woke up, she was still tired. ‘’Hey, how did you sleep?’’ Callum asked. ‘’Good, where are the girls?’’ she asked. ‘’The nurse took them to do their tests, Austin followed them.’’ He reassured her. She was traumatized by the baby kidnapping in Jane the Virgin, that was something she said to Callum very early in her pregnancy: You always follow our baby. In this case, babies. ‘’Thank you for making me a father, that’s something I’ve always dreamed about and I’m so grateful that you’re the mother of my girls.’’ Callum said, kissing her hand. Y/n was smiling, tears of joy immediately fell on her cheeks. ‘’And I’m ecstatic that you’re the father of my babies. I love you, Callum’’ she said, with a gentle voice. ‘’I love you too, Y/n’’

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #co star #actress!reader #austin butler #anthony boyle #barry keoghan #master of the air #master of the air imagine

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safination · 20 days

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Partners in Death...And Life

Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You: Part i

|Part 4: The Radio Stars' Co-Host Just Wants To Do The Dishes| |Part 5: Gimpse of me and you: Part ii| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Pairings: Alastor x wife! Reader Tags: fem!reader, established relationships, Asexual! Alastor, Reader is in hell for a reason Warning: Blood and dead bodies <3| A little bit suggestive Now, I know what you must be thinking. Part 1? Yeah…this chapter is supposed to actually be much longer, but the second part of the fic isn’t complete yet and I have like two more exams. And biochemistry isn’t something to laugh about. I am slowly losing my mind. I close my eyes and I see aldehydes and hemiketals. Anyway, part two of this will be posted in like two or three days. It’s already drafted, just need to edit it. So here’s a bite size chapter. It contains marriage years 1930 and 1931. 1932 isn't complete yet, sadly. It was quite long, so part 2 will just be 1932.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1930

That blasted car is too far.

With each step, the tip of your heels scrape the pavement. Shoe maintenance tells you that dragging the rubber tip shortens its lifespan, but your toes pinch when you lift your shoe. Alastor takes long strides, walking with the pace of a man with his ass on fire. Pick a struggle. One either walks fast but takes short strides, or walks slow but takes long strides. It’s unethical to have both.

Streetlamps illuminate the sidewalk. The dried leaves scattered around catch on your shoe, and the city’s smog particles stick on your skin.

The city sucks ass.

Alastor will have to drag you by the hair to force you to take another step on this cockroach infested streets. One taste of that fresh air surrounding your shared home, and suddenly, you’ve gone soft. Gone are the days where second-hand smoke reminded you of home. Now, home is the radio’s volume turned up in ungodly hours.

Alastor tightens his arm around yours, pulling you closer to him.

He’s wearing his favorite bowtie tonight. Everything from the shine of his shoes to the way he combed his hair screams fancy…except for that bowtie. It’s not something meant for exquisite dinners with your wife. You didn’t understand his instance. It was something you picked up on your way home one day, a measly scrap of fabric you purchased back when you didn’t know what good quality bow ties were. Alastor should know of its poor quality, yet he calls it his favorite.

Alastor lowers closer to your ear. “Is this your way of telling me you wish to visit the city’s zoo?”

“Zoo…?” you echo. These shoes are going straight in the garbage bin once you get home. “Why would I want to go there?”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek. “I thought you were doing a penguin impression. It's a rather fabulous one, might I add.”

“Ha…Ha…Ha. It’s because I’m walking like a penguin. Not your best one, dearest,” you say, patting his biceps. They’re firmer than they look. “That’s a little bit on the nose. Is it an off night for you?”

“Your feet are hurting,” Alastor tells you like you don’t feel the way your toes slowly lose blood circulation. “I wonder…. Will you deny it? Or are you willing to humble yourself before me, and ask for a seat? There’s still a few more blocks until we reach the car.”

Now, there’s absolutely no way you are going to tell Alastor how your feet pinch and your ankle wobble. With a bright smile, and sheer acting, you continue walking. “Did you do this on purpose?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. “You were the one who insisted on accompanying me.”

“Well, my feet feel perfectly normal,” you say as your toes buzz. “This is nothing. You should see how long I’m on my feet during work.”

“Yes, because that is a perfectly acceptable thing to happen in workplaces, dearest.” Alastor tightens his arm once more. His thumb brushes up and down your arm. “I would say it pains me to say this, but we both know that would be a lie. I told you so.”

“You did not, actually,” you say, shaking your foot to dislodge the leaves sticking to the bottom of your shoe. “You barely took one glance and said, ‘Those look lovely, dear!’.”

Alastor pauses his steps, and turns to you with a smile. The night does little to dull how bright his brown eyes shine like stardust to you.

He reaches out towards you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He tugs on your ear, and you slap his hand away. Alastor massages his hand. “That hurt, you know,” he says. “But I meant about waiting. You should still be enjoying your drink.”

“And leaves my dearest, darling husband out here? Alone?” you snort, pulling him to continue walking. “I think I remember someone telling me that thieves don’t dissolve in the sun. Imagine them in the dark!”

“And what would be your plan if we both get robbed?”

You show Alastor your biggest smile. “It’s a good thing I have such a big and scary husband to protect me …. .You…You would protect me, right?”

Alastor’s laughter rings across the air. It’s breathy and light and absolutely everything to you.

Alastor grabs your hand and intertwine his fingers around yours. He leads you further into the streets. Soon, smooth pavements replace the pot holes. Leaves replace the scattered beer cans. Grass replace the asphalt roads. Treen replace the buildings. Alastor pulls you deeper into some tiny park where the streetlamps are brighter, and the air smells closer to home.

You follow him, squeezing his hand.

Alastor squeezes back.

At the corner of this park, a children’s playground stands.

The dark does little to dull the bright colors of the seesaw and monkey bars. In the middle, a pirate-shim themed deck connects to a slide. The swing sways lazily with the nudge of the night’s breeze. There’s not a single living soul except for you and him. It’s eerie to see such a place empty when it should be filled to the brim with the life of children’s laughter.

Alastor’s strides become longer, and his pace even faster as he pulls you closer to the playground’s swing.

He releases his grip, and suddenly, your hand belongs to you once more. Alastor brushes the sand off the swing, and offers you a seat with a bow and outstretched arms.

You take the seat. The pressure lifts from your buzzing toes. It’s almost heavenly.

Alastor slides his coat off his shoulders. With soft giggles and a stupid smile, you watch him pull his arm out. Sleeve garters are worn for practical uses, but as a fashion piece….Hmmm, it’s a great look on him. It’s a shame Alastor often hides how those garters compliment his biceps with a coat. How long would it take to hide every single coat he owns?

Alastor slides his eyes to you. It lingers. “Stop that.”

You offer him your most innocent smile as a reply.

Alastor inches close enough for you to inhale his scent. He drapes his coat over your shoulders, pulling on the lapels to secure it around your shoulders.

You press your lips on the corner of his mouth. “Thank you.”

Alastor kneels on the ground. He pulls your ankle towards him, sliding off your heel. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

You kiss his cheek. “Was there something else I needed to say?” you ask. “That seemed like a proper response.”

He glides his thumb over the reddened parts of your skin, massaging your foot. “Exactly….It was a proper response,” he tells you. “Aren’t you going to question me? Demand to know if I’m going to kill you?”

“I think what you’re doing is rather obvious.”

Alastor stores your shoes to the side, and leaves your feet hanging out in the air. He circles behind you, hovering close enough to feel his presence, even with the coat. He wraps his hands around the metal chain connected to the swing, and sways you back and forth. “Did you enjoy the restaurant? A co-worker recommended it to me.”

“And in the off chance I don’t, will I be seeing that co-worker lying in the middle of our basement?”

Alastor smiles at you. “That depends,” he says. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

You tilt your head backwards to catch his eyes. “Is this a trick question? Am I supposed to say that nothing can compare to your cooking, or something along those lines?”

Alastor shakes the chains, jerking the swing. “You’re supposed to give me an actual answer,” he says, rolling his eyes. “We can come back if you liked it.”

You lean on Alastor’s leg, using it as a backrest. “Every meal is enjoyable when I am in your company, my love” you say. “But that crab was something else. It looked expensive.…We’re, uh, not suddenly going to become poor, right?”

Alastor stares at you. “I’m going to push you off.”

You wrap your hands around Alastor’s, keeping his hold around the chains firm. “What did I do this time?”

Alastor sighs, and swings you gently. “I can afford nice dinners with you.”

“Just me?”

“Only you.”

Alastor pulls you to your feet. Sand pools around your toes. You pull his coat closer around your shoulders as he drags you closer to the pirate-ship themed deck. He releases his hold on your hand, and your fingers brush against each other.

He walks to the platform. The entrance was made for children, so Alastor has to crawl and duck underneath to access the slide.

You fiddle with the lapels of his coat. “What are you doing?”

Alastor glances back at you, smiling as he crawls underneath the entrance. His ass sticks out when he does. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“If your ass gets stuck,” you begin, crossing your arms, “I’m going to leave you here.”

Alastor rolls his eyes, shimmying further into the entrance. “How lucky then that it’s, apparently, horrendously flat,” he says. “There’s nothing there to get stuck.”

“There’s nothing horrendous about it,” you say with a smile. “I see you’re wearing the pants I like.”

Alastor snorts. “Oh, shut up.”

“Not a chance.” Your smile twists brighter.

Alastor grabs the railing, and pulls himself up. His biceps contract when he does. Sleeve garters and railing are for practical uses, but the only thing echoing through your mind were impractical uses right now. Un-practical but exciting....You need to get it together.

“…Flirting,” Alastor says, pulling your mind from wherever it wandered off to. “Really?”

“That was hardly flirting, dearest.”

Alastor ducks into the slide. His ass lands on the sand, and he curses into the air. You cough to stifle a laugh.

He hops to his feet, brushing the sand off his pants. His lips twist and his eyebrows furrow as he cringes in pain. “This is a hazard,” he says, glaring at the slide. He turns to you and smiles. “You should try it.”

“How brave of you to risk a shattered tailbone for me,” you say. “But I’m not sliding down that thing when you just called it a hazard.”

“You are an incredibly boring person,” he tells you. “Is it not a fad nowadays to be loose and goofy against these depressing times of economic downfall?”

Your raise your eyebrow.” You want me to crawl up there and slide down in this outfit?”

Alastor leans on the side of the slide. “I don’t see any good reason not to.”

“If you wish to ogle my undergarments, there’s no need to concoct such a scheme,” you say, smiling at him. “You merely need to ask.”

Alastor’s lips twist. “I’m not—”

“Oh, calm down, I’m just pulling your leg,” you say, snorting. “You would need to think of someone besides yourself to do such a thing. So, there’s no need to get your perfect little head into such a fuss.”

“Stop it.”

You smile innocently. “No.”

Alastor walks closer to you. “And you wonder why no one wanted to play with you as a child.”

You take steps to walk closer to him as well, meeting him halfway. “Everyone wanted to play with me,” you say. “I’ll have you know that I was quite the delight.”

You stand before each other, inches apart.

Alastor stares at you. What do those eyes tell him as he watches you stand before him, buried into his coat? He leans closer to you. “I doubt that.”

You take a step closer and slide your arms around him to bury yourself into his hold.

“How rude,” you say with a smile. You look up at him to hold his gaze, propping your chin on his chest. His arms tighten around your back. “I was such a delightful child that I would have played with you, even when no other kid wanted to do so.”

Alastor leans down, pecking your lips. You inch upwards to chase his lips, but self-control takes over. “You are and always will be a nerd,” he says. “You were probably the type to read during the afternoon.”

You tighten your hug on him. “What an incredible assumption to make.”

Alastor places a hand on your head. “Am I wrong?”

“I’m not telling you that,” you say, leaning your head into his chest.

Alastor pulls away from the hug, grabbing your hand to drag you to the monkey bars.

He climbs to the very top, and swings his legs to sit between the bars. He offers his hand, and you take it. His thumb brushes over your fingers and you climb up the steps and onto the bars. It’s difficult to maneuver with such a fancy outfit. Alastor keeps a steady hand on you, and the other goes on your waist as you slide to sit next to him.

The whole playground can be seen from the top of the monkey bars.

“If you weren’t a nerd,” Alastor begins, bumping your shoulder with his, “then you were probably a bully.”

You grip the bar, leaning back to stare. His hair brushes over his eyes. Alastor runs a hand over the strands to push it back. You reach out and push his glasses up his nose. “What makes you say that?”

Alastor boops your nose. “You’re a pretty little thing who works in healthcare. Isn’t there a stereotype for that?”

You blink at him a bit dumbly, cheeks flushed and tingling. Heat trails up your skin, and you have to turn away to hide from his gaze. “You think I’m pretty?” you ask rather idiotically. Deep breaths are needed to calm yourself. “Look…look who’s flirting now.”

Alastor hooks his legs on the bar, and swings backwards. He hangs in the air, the force of his legs the only thing keeping him from falling.

“Don’t do that,” you say, hissing. “You could break your neck.”

Alastor catches your eye with a wild smile. “I won’t.”

“And I’ll be sure to tell that to my next husband as we’re spending all your money,” you tell him. “Now get down from there before you make me a widow!”

Alastor releases his legs from the bar, and his body smacks on the ground. He lies motionless on the sand.

With a sigh, you carefully climb down the monkey bars. You nudge Alastor’s bicep with your foot when you reach him. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

Silence.

You fold the skirt of your dress, and sit across him. You slam your head onto him, using his chest as a pillow.

“Oof!” Alastor curls into you a bit, eyes twitching. He drapes an arm over your stomach, and draws spirals with his finger.

“I think we could have been friends when we were children,” you say, smiling as you feel the way his chest rises up and down with each breath he takes.

Alastor studies the sky. There are no stars to look at here in the city. It’s covered by the lights and the smog. “We wouldn’t. I probably would have hated you.”

“You—Hate me? Impossible!” you say with a laugh. “You think I’m pretty.”

“Ha. Ha,” he says. “You think you’re so clever.”

You intertwine your fingers with his, tracing the ring on his finger. “Sadly, I think I’ll have to agree,” you say. “I probably would have hated you as well.”

“I’m impossible to hate.”

“I'm sure I, of all people, could find a way,” you say with a smile. “Kids can be mean. And you were probably a really weird one.”

Alastor raises his hand to the air, studying his ring against the dark sky. You do the same. Both rings shimmer in the night. “Yet…,” he starts, “here we are, married.”

“I can’t believe we actually got married.”

“I can.”

“Is this where you’ll tell me all about how you fell in love with me at first sight?” your snort. “That my smile and incredible stitching told you I was the woman you were going to wash dishes with for the rest of your life.”

Alastor laughs and his chest rises and falls. “Well, it wasn't flirting.”

“I did not flirt with you.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

“On our third meeting, you told me we walked to the wrong house, just to spend four hours with me in the rain,” Alastor says, and you see the smile creeping on his lips. “You were so entrapped by my very being that you couldn’t bear to spend another second without me. You looked like you wanted to kis—”

You slam your head down into his chest. “Oh, shut up.”

Alastor glances at you. “Not a chance.”

“Okay then, well I remember two people underneath that umbrella,” you say with a huff. “You accepted my invitation.”

“I did,” he says. “Although, I had the excuse of needing to gather information on such a suspicious person. That was purely professional.”

“And you decided that an additional four hours of walking was necessary,” you say. “You could have stopped entertaining me in the first hour or even the second, but you spent all four hours getting your shoulders wet.”

“I did, indeed.”

Laughter rings into the air. With each and every of Alastor’s laugh, your head bounces up and down. You bury your face deeper into his chest, laughing against it.

“We’ve been married for more than a year,” you say. “How has it been for you?”

“Nothing much has changed, surprisingly,” Alastor says, shrugging his shoulders. “The only thing that’s different is I get to say the most ridiculous thing like how completing it is to be able to just exist with you.”

You take his hand, bringing it closer to your mouth to brush a soft kiss. “There’s nothing ridiculous about it, my love. I enjoy how completing it is to be able to just exist when you are with me,” you say, and Alastor caresses your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers down your skin. “Shall we head home?”

There’s a brightness in Alastor’s eyes when he smiles. “Not yet,” he says. “Let’s stay like this for a moment.”

Maybe the city isn’t so awful. Alastor could ask you to stay in this park forever, and you would happily breathe in the smog. Later, you will have to stand and grab your shoes, and finally head home to prepare for the next day. But that’s later. This is now.

You giggle against his chest. “You think I’m pretty.”

Alastor groans, placing a hand over his eyes.

There will be a lifetime of moments like this waiting for you in a world where you both just exist.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1931

The needle pierces through the fabric. You tug on it, pulling the blue thread up and then around to create a simple back stitch. The cat’s outline pieces together. Later, you’ll fill the cloth with grass and flowers, and a little butterfly to give the cat a friend. Should you gift this to Alastor? Well, either way, he’ll find a way to display it around the house sooner or later.

The radio crackles, and music fades into the background.

Soft taps sound on the speaker. “Before I leave for the night,” Alastor’s voice rings from the radio, “I would like to call any attention to any wives out there, especially the one married to me.”

It doesn’t matter that Alastor is all the way at work, miles away, you still roll your eyes at him…but you turn the volume up, listening closely to what he has to say.

“I know my voice can get, oh, so, entrapping,” he says, and you swear you can hear him smile. “Thus, this is a gentle encouragement to complete any tasks you are putting off. For example, you could take out the trash like what was agreed upon.”

You glare at the radio, flicking its wood. “Oh, I hate you,” you mutter. “I hate you so much.”

“Now, now, dearest, we both know that is a lie,” Alastor says. “Don’t wait up!”

The music fades back in, and the broadcast ends for the night.

He likes to think he’s so clever. Let’s see how clever he’ll be when you kill him in his sleep. It will be easy, barely an inconvenience. You’ll drop a pillow right over that handsome face of his, and laugh as he chokes on his own ego.

However,…with a sigh…you take out the trash…like what was agreed upon.

The air is cold at this time of night. The moon looks beautiful tonight, it’s light illuminating the garden. It would be a shame to waste such a breathtaking sight. A part of you wishes to share this with Alastor, that he could be here, right now, and stare at the moon next to you. And the two of you will exist in each other’s company.

You grab the unfinished art piece, and continue on the rocking chair, stitching and listening to the crickets.

It takes hours of stitching and sore fingers, but Alastor’s car finally pulls up the driveway. The engine dies, and he hops out of the car, circling to the trunk and popping it open.

You drop your things, and take a seat on the porch steps to watch him, the moon no longer being the most breathtaking sight.

Alastor’s still wearing his favorite bowtie. It’s too dark to see clearly, but you think he’s pulling out a body from the car’s trunk. He grabs the straps of the obviously filled cadaver bag, letting it drag across the floor.

A good wife would help their husbands carry a very heavy and very dead body. But…if it means being able to sit and stare at your husband hauling a very, very dead person, then maybe, being a good wife is overrated.

Alastor pauses when he sees you, dropping the straps of the cadaver bag. “What are—Is something wrong?”

You smile at the urgency in his voice. “No, not one bit,” you say, leaning on your head on your hand. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“You should be in bed,” he says, crossing his arms. “I told you not to wait for me.”

Your huff, blowing strands of your hair off your face. “Did you? This is the first I’m hearing of this.”

“I did,” Alastor tells you. “Did you not catch tonight’s broadcast?”

“It was a rather busy day. I had things to do, people to see, and all that.”

Even in the dark, you see the way Alastor’s grin widens. He steps towards the garbage bin, opening the lid to check its content. “You are such a horrible liar,” he says, snorting. “I see you got my message.”

Alastor steps into the light.

Part of his hair slicks back. It’s different from its usually neat look. His sleeves are pulled up, folded until his elbow. There are several red stains on him. It’s on his hair, stains his clothes, and paints his face. His eyes have never looked so brown before. How does Alastor manage to make murder…into…into…. You clear your throat a bit, already counting the day until the next time he goes on his hunts.

“Why, hello there, stranger,” you say, not bothering to fight the smile on your lips. “It’s rather cold tonight. Would you mind keeping a lady company?”

Alastor rolls his eyes, brushing back his hair. “I’m a mess.”

“Red’s a great look,” you say. “The seat next to me is empty.”

“Flirting, really?” he says, but he sits next to you. “You’re getting shameless these days.”

You press your lips on his cheek. “For you?” Another kiss. “Always.”

Alastor takes off his coat. The fabric pools around his broad shoulders and down his back before he pulls out his arms. He throws it at your face, smacking you with it. “I hope you don’t go around saying stuff like that to every man you see,” he says, smiling at you. “I might get jealous.”

You peel off his coat from your face, wrapping it around your shoulders. “Only the one married to me,” you tell him. “You should see how I flirt with my husband.”

Alastor props an arm on the steps, leaning back to meet your eyes. “How disappointing to hear you’re married.”

“Don’t be! This current one won’t be alive for very long, so there’s going to be an open spot,” you say, waving your hands. “Are you interested in taking his place? I hope you are—you’re much more handsome than he is.”

Alastor flicks your nose. “Funny.”

You rub your nose a bit. “So…,” you begin, propping your legs across Alastor’s lap, “what is a charming thing like you doing in these woods?”

A strong breeze sways his hair into his eyes. Alastor pushes the strands away, smiling at you like he always does. “What an honor it is to be called charming by you.”

“Oh, not just charming!” you say, clutching your heart as you swoon. “Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?”

Alastor laughs, and his glasses slide down his nose. You push it up for him. “Not nearly enough,” he says. “Maybe I should take your husband’s open spot, afterall. My wife never compliments me as much as you do.”

He traces circles on the skin of your legs. You give him a little kick for what he said. “Maybe she would say it more if your ego didn’t inflate every time,” you say. “I would go as far as to say she’s doing God’s work by keeping you humble.”

Alastor pushes your legs off his lap.

He reaches into his pocket and takes out his handkerchief. Your eyes catch on the little design embroidered on the fabric. “Since you insist on keeping me here, you should at least help clean me up,” he says, offering the cloth to you. “I would do it myself, but there’s no mirror here.”

“Why clean such a masterpiece?” you say, but accept the handkerchief anyway. “May I?”

Alastor nods, inching close enough for the smell of rusted copper and iron to hit your nose. Intoxicating. It was just plainly and simply…divine. Like a rose that fell straight from heaven’s garden.

You wipe blood off his face. Some of the streaks had already dried. There’s a stubborn spot right on his jaw. You brush the back of your fingers down his cheek, trailing it down until you hook it right under his chin.

How does your face look right now for Alastor to stare at you with wide eyes?

The smudge line of blood that paints his jaw isn’t clearing. It’s too dry. You inch your face closer, brushing your nose on his skin as you inhale the dangerous combination of Alastor mixing with the strong undertones of iron. Soft exhales land on his skin. Your lips part, giving way to moisten that dried spot with your tongue, trailing it up his jaw.

The hints of metal tingle against your tongue. It was sweet and salty, and it combined with Alastor to create something akin to aged fine wine. But not even the most expensive wine could be as intoxicating as this.

Alastor grabs your face, pulling you to meet his eyes. He squishes your cheeks. “That’s unsanitary!” he says, hissing. “You don’t know what type of bacteria mixed in it.”

You pull your face away from his hold, giving him your most innocent smile.

Hopping to your feet, you circle around the dead body that lies in a very dead position on the ground. You kneel, heart thumping, and pull the zipper down.

“Oh…,” you say, taking in the violence this man experienced, “…wow.”

Alastor was not kind to this man, for this one died screaming.

Alastor leans his arms on his knees, smiling at you. “ I got a little carried away,” he says. “Will you still be able to use him?”

“I think he’ll agree that got more than a little carried away,” you say, snorting as you zip the body back into its bag. “Shall I fetch the bone saw?”

“It’s that bad?”

You walk over to where Alastor sits on the steps, climbing to hover on top of him. The only thing keeping you from crashing down on his chest are the way your hands grip the wood behind him. Inches of space separate your bodies. How far will Alastor entertain you?

You smile down at him, trapping him on the steps between your arms. “I can have this one in pieces by sunrise,” you say, voice barely a whisper. “You can grab the spare, and we can call it a date.”

Alastor tilts his chin up to meet your eyes as he smiles at you. “And tell me,” he begins, voice just as soft as yours. He settles his hands on your waist to steady you above him, “how do you plan on achieving his?”

You trace his shoulder, trailing your fingers up his clavicle bone. “It’s like cutting a chicken,” you say. “All I need to do is take my knife and pound the edge across the joints to disconnect his limbs in one swift motion. Smaller pieces would require the saw.”

Alastor pushes himself upwards, and presses a kiss on your cheek. “And you would spend all night cutting this man for me?”

You hum with delight. “Only for you.”

Alastor tugs your waist, and you come crashing on top of him. You curse as your hands slip, and your face lands on his chest. Alastor hugs you, his laughter ringing in the air, breathy and light and so full of delight. “You are the most ridiculous person to be able to exist with.”

You laugh, accepting how Alastor is the one doing the trapping now. “I’m honored you think so.”

“I think that was the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life,” he says. “I think I could kiss you right now.”

“Don’t let your wife catch you saying that.” You snake your arms around Alastor’s back, tightening the hug he shares with you. “I hear she gets extremely jealous, and it’s never a smart idea to cross a woman who owns a bone saw.”

Alastor’s back digs into the edges of the porch steps. If your added weight lodges the wood deeper into his back, then he makes no complaints. “That’s truly an idiotic thing to do.”

You press yourself deeper into his hold. It’s quite ridiculous. Hugging you on top of the steps must be uncomfortable, but Alastor does so anyway.

In the end, it’s you who pulls away first, but only to save him from an aching back.

Grasping the steps, you climb higher and press your lips on his forehead. You take the seat next to him. Alastor reaches for you, adjusting his coat around your shoulders to secure you from the night’s cold breeze.

“Bad day at work?” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Alastor leans his head on top of yours. “I’m better now.”

You press deeper into him, laughing against his dress shirt. It’s stained with blood, but you don’t mind. “So, tell me, who is this unfortunate fellow that was on the receiving end of your stress,” you say. “And should I be jealous?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that—Do you happen to own a bone saw?”

You swat his arm, rolling your eyes as you do.

Alastor presses his body closer against yours. “I would love to hear you guess.”

“Hmmm….Well, this is Larry, and he comes from humble beginnings,” you tell him. “He’s a self-made man who met this pretty little thing.”

Alastor takes your hand, thumbing the ring on your finger. “You’re getting better at this.”

There are too many stains on Alastor’s shirt. It’s beyond saving. You’ll have to burn his whole outfit. “Larry met this most darling belle. They were happy until tragedy struck.”

Alastor pulls off his gloves, intertwining his bare fingers with yours. “I do love a tragedy.”

“They fell in love.”

“That’s not tragic,” he says, snorting.

“Then you are a fool, dearest. Love can kill in a way no one has ever been able to describe. Not even the greatest poets can describe the true depths of loss,” you tell him, squeezing his hand. “Homes have been burned in its name.”

Alastor kisses your cheek. “And how did Larry suffer?”

“His darling got taken away from him, in more ways than one,” you say. “Even on her deathbed, she could not recognize him.”

Alastor clutches his heart. “How truly heartbreak!”

You glance up at Alastor. He’s looking at the moon. “Yet, here you are smiling.”

“That’s because you are the most fantastic story teller.”

You pull away to stand, and your fingers brush as it slips out of his.

The porch stairs creak with every step. You reach for the radio on the windowsill, turning the knob until a faint click. Alastor’s lips twist when you change his pre-set station for softer melodies. That man and his radios—Always so particular.

You offer a hand to Alastor, giving him a small bow. “Dance with me?”

“I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion,” Alastor tells you, yet he takes your hand in his.

“There’s no need to worry about such trifling things,” you say. “I think you look divine, like a rose straight from heaven made just for me.”

Alastor wraps his hand around your own, and settles the other on your waist. Dancing can barely describe what you’re doing, not when the both of you only had the energy to sway to the music. But nevertheless, Alastor takes the lead on this dance.

He raises his arm, twirling you underneath. Your eyes lock together when you face him. “Hi.”

You smile at him. “Hi.”

“I’ve been wondering…How did you know work was stressing me?” he says, as you dance to the radio’s music. “Why say work specifically?”

You tilt your head, motioning to the window behind you. “That radio over there,” you say. “The one you keep by your chair. You were listening to it this morning when I gave you coffee.”

You hum the lyrics of the song that plays on the radio. It’s quite nice. Maybe you’ll ask Alastor to play it during his broadcast as a dedication to you. But knowing him, he’ll take this opportunity to become a nuisance made for you, and find something to poke fun about.

His eyebrows furrow. “I don’t understand.”

“You listen to that specific radio when you’re happy,” you say. Those brown eyes of his shift to you. In your most humble opinion, they shine brighter than the stars. “You were fine when you left but somewhere between leaving and coming home to me, your mood turned sour.”

Alastor presses a kiss on your fingers, brushing his lips over your skin with each word. “I would love to hear more about this.”

“The one in the kitchen, that’s for when you’re tired,” you say, chuckling. “The one in the office is for when you’re bored. You listen to the one on our nightstand when you’re thinking or upset.”

“Then what about the radio in the basement?” he asks with a smile that could rival the moon. “Tell me when I listen to that one.”

“That one is for me. You leave it there so I have something to keep me company,” you say. “The saxophone, on the other hand, is for when you’re frustrated.”

“And now, you’re just a master of what I’m feeling.”

“Not at all,” you say with a shrug. “I don’t know how you feel right now.”

Alastor inches closer, leaning down to meet your eyes. “Would you like to know?”

“Sure.”

Alastor places a hand on your cheek, caressing you with his thumb. You lean into how gently he traces your face. He leans closer, nudging his nose against your own. Alastor brushes his lips over you, and the cracks on his lip prick you. Why he decided to torture you with soft touches and hovering inches away exceeds your understanding.

The strong scent of copper and iron on his skin intoxicate every molecule that makes up your body. He’s unfair. Too unfair of him to hold such power over you. Alastor would love to know how he makes your skin buzz with each and every glance of those too brown eyes that shine brighter than starlight. This is a fact you will take to your grave.

Your eyes flutter to a close. Alastor decides to show you mercy, finally kissing your lips.

Open!

The demand drums across your mind.

Your eyelids stay shut as you kiss him back. The need to look at Alastor’s too brown eyes shout at you. What face is Alastor making right now? How does he look? What do those eyes see?

But he kisses you gently. Oh…so…gently. Alastor kisses you like he had something to say. There are words being whispered across your skin as your lips move together. His thumb brushes your skin, and you can’t open your eyes.

Kissing him makes you wish you spent your youth studying poems and soft metaphors instead of the role of hexokinase in turning Glucose into Glucose-6-phosphate. This wish comes suddenly and out of nowhere. Not once have you ever wished for a different pursuit. But you would forfeit all your knowledge to be able to describe the way Alastor’s lips strike you to your very soul.

That thought disappears quickly, mind too preoccupied with the overwhelming sensation of soft lips placing kiss after kiss. The arm around your waist pulls you close, your body pressing against his own as if it was the most natural thing to place you there, as if the Seraphim creating your bodies carved you to belong.

Alastor pulls away with a soft smile.

It takes every ounce of your self-control not to chase after his lips and pull him back to you. Heat flushes your face. You can’t find the strength to open your eyes, not with how much he makes your cheeks tingle.

“You’ve been observing me.” Alastor brushes your eyelids with his thumb. “Open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter, heeding to his demand. There it is, your favorite sight looking straight at you, holding a beauty that the moon cannot compete against—his eyes. “Hi.”

Alastor’s smile widens. “Hi.”

There are words that bubble on your lips. Words that are begging to be said. Three words that could very well make this man run when he understands just how deep those words mean for him.

And there it is again, that wish to become a poet because those three words can never truly describe what is imprinted on your soul’s very essence. Those three words are not enough for a man who deserves poems full of soft metaphors and sweet analogies.

“That’s because I…I…,” you trail off, hiding your face in his chest. “I think that’s just called marriage, and I always was weak to such radiant beauty.”

Coward…You are a coward.

That’s okay.

You don’t mind the word being shouted to you by your heart, not when it means you can guard it with walls.

It’s okay to be a coward, because it means there will always be a tomorrow. There will always be another chance, another moment, another day to be brave. Another tomorrow. Another next week. Another next month. Another next year.

There’s no need to tell Alastor the word your soul desperately wants him to understand. Not right now, at least.

Not when the evidence is already there: You and him.

There will be a lifetime of moments like this waiting for you in a world where you are his.

Don't be shy to talk to me. I don't bite at all! I would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. And all comments really motivate me to work <3. 1932 will be posted in a few days. 1933 on the other hand….Well, let’s just say that such a grand year needs its own chapter. As I was writing this, I kept going back to the idea that Reader can flirt, but can't handle being flirted back. It was too funny not to add. And like I swear heart appear on my eyes, as well as Reaader's eyes everytime Alastor does anything just slightly unhinged. That too was too funny not to add. Taglist: @mybrainautocorrect @ray-rook @teavibesaf @valentique @qardasngan @alastorssimp @aestheticgals-blog @slaggylemon @reikamasama @obessivlyonline @okay-babe @lyralibra @holymusicalmothman @amoraneuro @tobyisher3

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x wife!reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x you #Alastor x wife reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin imagines #hazbin hotel headcanon

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chanshoesunite · 2 years

Text

Making yourself cum on Chan's arm

GENRE: smut, snark, idk arm kink?

WORD COUNT: 2223

Author’s Note (Co-curator Tortoise): This image has been living in my head rent free ever since they posted it. It is my lockscreen for heavens sake!! I have been imagining riding his arm EVERY DAY and it's just not healthy at this point. If you are like me, welcome, please leave a message so we can descend into madness together.

WARNINGS: rated M (minors do not engage!), masturbation, petting

„Oh my fucking GOD!“, you exclaim while staring at your phone. Luckily, no one is around, so you do not have to share the cause for your excitement – and despair. Chan has just posted a selfie with Changbin in the group chat “zoo and keeper 💪🐺🐰” between you three and Changbin’s girlfriend.

“Had a good set today~” was the accompanying text.

“Why would he do this to me”, you are absolutely stunned, while also knowing for sure that he has no idea what such a picture would do to you, seeing as you are simply the boys’ flatmate.

You wish you were more than that, so you could write something like Changbin’s girlfriend: “Tell Changbin I need him at my place urgently – it’s for sex reasons.”

You snort and think: “Same, girl. But we can’t all have fit as fuck boyfriends. Some of us have to suffer as singles while living with a perfectly eligible bachelor.”

However, you write: “EEEEWWWW, did NOT need to know this, will purge this from my memory in 3 – 2 – 1 – hey Changbin I have a weird feeling I won’t be seeing you around tonight so don’t forget to put the bins out tomorrow!!”

The ensuing snark in the chat has you grinning and helps you push The Picture out of your mind. It’s late in the afternoon on a Saturday so you decide to live it up and watch a Netflix documentary about some murder cult to distract yourself further. It works, but not for long, because inevitably Chan comes home, all by his lonesome and handsome self.

“Hey, what are we watching?”, he asks, flopping down on the sofa next to you once he has deposited his gym bag in his room. You risk a quick glance at him. Yep, still slightly wet hair from his shower, arms still pumped, veins still popping. God is testing you today.

“People being murdery”, you gesture vaguely at your glass and Chan helpfully reaches over to hand it to you. “Thanks.”

Your fingers brush his wonderfully warm skin and you take a breath and another peek. You notice something on his left hand and – damn it, damn yourself for not resisting – you grasp it lightly to take a closer look. His large hands are calloused, but surprisingly soft. You already knew that and you shamelessly relish the chance of touching him now under the guise of checking out the raw spot on his palm.

“And how did that happen?”, you wonder, “I thought you had callouses for dayyyys”, you stretch the sound while standing up to get some ointment.

“Ah, yeah”, he says shyly, rubbing his head, shouting after you, “you knaur, I guess I didn’t put my straps on properly.”

“Heh, strap-on”, you tease automatically as you walk back, cream in hand. You open the tube and put a pea-sized portion on his reddened skin. “Would’ve thought that makes you raw in other areas.”

“Oh my gosh, YN”, he laughs, letting his head fall back against the couch, then looking up cheekily, “I guess it depends how you use it?”

You huff a laugh, focusing on gently rubbing in the cream – fuck, you love doing this. You try not to make it last too long or be too sensual, but you cannot help but enjoy the texture of his skin under your fingers. You draw little circles on the redness, then use the cream to slightly push into the surrounding muscles of his hand as well.

“I’m not sure you know how to use a strap-on properly then! Best stick to the straps you know – and come find me if your callouses get defeated by your recklessness again.”

You pretend as if you want to get rid of the last bits of cream and travel your fingers up his sleeveless underarm, cruising his prominent veins for a few seconds. Then you quickly pull back and look at the TV screen again. Your fingers are warm from where you touched Chan’s arm, and you have to clench your hand to get rid of the tingly feeling in them. You brush your lips with the same hand that just touched Chan in a nervous tic, which only serves to make you even more nervous when you notice what you are doing and that Chan is still watching you. You pull your hand away from your mouth immediately.

“What?”, you ask, trying to play it cool, because obviously there is nothing to get all bothered by.

“Thanks”, he says simply, with a wide, happy smile. You feel like you could turn into putty when he smiles this way and you yearn to be moulded into something new by him. How dare his mouth and arms work in tandem like that? You try to save yourself by dialling up the drama in your voice:

“Ugh, it’s alright, I guess, all in a day’s work for a saint like me. I do accept alms in the form of chocolate and cash” – and cock, you add in your head, which makes you roll your eyes at yourself and back at the TV but you do catch a glimpse of Chan licking his lips before replying:

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

And you could bicker further, but his low voice took on a weird tone (playful, but sexy? Suggestive? Oh, lord!) and you have literally no spoons left to contain your horniness, so you try to ignore the gorgeous presence next to you and focus on murder.

***

Four hours later you wake up, with a weight on you in unfamiliar places. You have somehow managed to partly drape yourself over Chan –you are spooning into him, holding his left arm hostage like your favourite plushie. His t-shirt is wet where you drooled on him, his head is resting above you. You are surprised to find him asleep, considering his insomniac tendencies.

Still quite dazed, you relish the feeling of his upper arm and side against your body. You lie there, just existing, enjoying this fleeting moment, listening to Chan’s calm breaths, the beating of his heart that you could swear you can feel from where his muscular arm is pressed against you.

When he moves in his sleep, you unwillingly relent your grip. Better to let him turn freely than wake him up. But he doesn’t move away – at least, not the way you expected. He grumbles, flexing his triceps as he slides his arm down. His arm is now lying between you and him, his hand is resting on your thigh, which you have tucked up against you, turning you into a little croissant.

On instinct, you slightly open your legs to let his hand in. You wonder what the hell you are doing. He hooks his hand between your thighs. You wonder what the hell HE is doing. Chan pulls you closer with an ease that both delights and disgusts you in the best possible way. You don’t breathe. He doesn’t let go. His hand is now nicely sandwiched between your legs. His fingers squeeze the meaty part of your thigh, tantalizingly close to your pussy. You lift your head, trying to look in his face. Is he still asleep? Are you his plushie now? Have you died and gone to heaven?

He seems peacefully asleep and you lie back down carefully. You are now much closer to him. You feel hot and a bit shivery. His fingers continue to flex in obviously involuntary movements, his synapses firing in deep sleep. Your eyes drift shut with pleasure.

It feels good. His touch, his proximity, this entire situation. You are taut as a bowstring from excitement. You experimentally touch Chan’s upper arm again, holding on, gently stroking the exposed skin with your thumb. He is so soft and his muscles so thick you could sink your teeth into them.

With the smallest gasp, you cannot help but roll your hips into his hand, very carefully, to cause that sweet friction you have been denied so far. Lightning strikes through your clit into your stomach.

“Oh shit”, you think, “oh shit, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Because you cannot stop yourself now. Chan’s heady closeness, his smell, his warmth, his fingers and now your own naughty movement have pushed you over an edge and you have to keep rolling, rocking yourself into him. You try to hold back, to be as soft as you can. You make a keening sound, nearly inaudible. You feel like you are being set on fire.

And then Chan turns over and captures you tightly. He rotates the arm between your legs so his hand is splayed on your arse cheek, holding on. His other arm comes down on your other side. He hovers over you, his elbows propping him up while his free hand snakes under your head to grab you in the nape of your neck. You cannot escape from the tight space he has created.

You suck in a shocked breath, your eyes snap open. His face is so close. Before you can move or say anything, try to explain yourself, he grins down at you.

“I knew you liked my arms, YN”, his voice is hoarse and quiet, laced with satisfaction, “I just didn’t know you liked them that much.”

“I’m so sorry”, you say with a panicked look on your face, trying to squirm out of his grasp, “I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to…”

Chan neither lets you finish your sentence nor continue your futile struggle against the virtual wall he has created with his body. He flexes the arm between your legs up against your crotch, squeezing your bum tightly.

“Fffuuuhhck”, you let out a broken moan from the sudden stimulation and your eyes drift shut again. This is what you needed. All the little movements you dared to make before cannot compare in any way to this. Chan’s large hand on your neck squeezes slightly.

“I like it when you swear”, Chan says, looking down at you, relenting the pressure of his arm and then pushing in again, making you gasp, bucking your hips, “and I like it when you use me. So, go on, YN…use me.”

You decide that this is the most realistic sex dream you ever had and to just fucking go with it. You pull Chan’s head down to cover his plump lips with soft kisses. He opens his mouth for you and it feels like he is ready to devour you. When his tongue touches yours for the first time, you feel like you might cum on the spot. His lips and tongue seem to tease you, promising more pleasure.

Your other hand grabs his arm, feeling his magnificent muscles straining to give you as much friction as you need. You start riding his arm slowly but with strength behind every roll of your hips.

“Come on, YN, I can take it.”

It’s dizzying. You pick up your pace, and soon there is no rhythm to your movements anymore, just plain wanton need to feel more. You are moaning into his mouth as he lets his tongue play with yours.

“That’s right, just like that. You have been holding back for so long, being all proper with me, I am so glad you are finally letting loose, you look fucking beautiful, my little princess.”

His low voice, his self-assured tone is driving you closer to your peak, and Chan can tell by your frantic movements and sounds. He kisses your lips, down your jaw. He squeezes your arse and your nape as he growls into your ear: “Keep going, baby girl. Cum on me.”

Yes, this is what you needed.

With a throaty moan you press your wet pussy against his strong underarm and ride out your orgasm, whimpering nonsense. Chan leans his forehead against yours, whispering how sexy you are while you spasm under him.

After what feels like millenia, you go limp. You are breathing hard, still making little noises as you come down from your high.

“Oh, fuck me, oh, that was so good”, you gasp.

Chan lies down next to you and pulls you in tight. He nuzzles your neck and you can feel his grin.

“Yeah? I think so too. Very hot. I especially liked it when you said I am your own personal Adonis.”

You groan and hide your face in your hands.

“I did say that didn’t I?! This is all the fault of. That. Picture.”

You turn around and accentuate your words with pinches to his shoulder and biceps. Chan laughs and catches your hand before it can pinch any further, kissing your fingers.

“You knaur, I never thought this would happen, but I am very happy it did”, he turns a little serious and looks into your eyes intently. “I think you are really cool and hot. And I would like to do this again. Maybe you will find some other parts of me even more enjoyable.”

You cock an eyebrow, making a show of looking him up and down.

“Hm, you think so, do you? Well, you muscular, arrogant, delectable, little shit, I will be the judge of that!”

And with that you attack his lips and push your hand down his pants to reward him for his existence in general and the orgasm he gifted you in particular.

#author tortoise #i am a simple woman #i see arms veins and muscles - i want to worship them #bangchan smut #bang chan smut #bangchan imagine #bang chan imagine #straykids smut #bangchan x reader #bang chan x reader #chanshoesunite #chan smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan scenarios #chan x reader #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fanfic

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jaymadii · 2 years

Text

CHANGE OF HEART [O!Bakugo Katsuki x A!Male Reader]

You and Bakugo had a complicated history to say the least; in the romantic sense. Back in your UA days you had attempted to court him. You two had been doing this sort of dance around each other for a while; he’d ask to to scent things for him like blankets and pillows for his nest — something about having a familiar alpha’s aroma helped a mateless omega’s heats be more bearable. In return, you occasionally asked Bakugo to scent a hoodie or one of your shirts for you to defer away unwanted attention from some of the more pushy omegas (mostly Hatsume).

You had gotten your wires mixed and mistaken Bakugous comfortability with you as attraction. You had spend hours picking out the perfect courting gift for Bakugou, even going as far to ask Izuku’s opinion on the matter. You had settled on a expensive cashmere blanket — sunset orange. It was the kind of blanket that was advertised as peak nesting material. You scented the blanket and sealed it up in a plain box with a ribbon wrapped around it. Simple, like Bakugou would like it.

The humiliation lives with you to this day when you remember Katsuki’s horrified expression when you presented him with the gift, yelling at you and slamming the door in your face, but not before dropping the gift at your feet.

Your relationship was never quite the same after that. You trashed the blanket in the closest bin from his dorm to yours, washed all the clothes that still lingered of Bakugou’s scent, and avoided him for weeks on end. Izuku was kind enough to scent some of your shirts to ward off other omegas, and to let you lay your head in his lap while stroke your hair for a little after you explained why you couldn’t just have Bakugou do it. He would make a good mate for someone one day.

Time heals all wounds though, because as you grew up, and focused more on your hero work, yours and Bakugou’s relationship repaired on at least a professional level. You were one of the few alpha pro-hero’s that didn’t care if they were teamed up with a omega in the battlefield, which ended up with you and Bakugou being partners more often than not. The last alpha they tried to make Bakugo team up with made a snide comment about what was the superior secondary gender, then ended up in the hospital with a broken arm and pretty nasty gash on his head.

That leads you to where you are now: sitting in a bar with all your co-workers/high school friends for a after patrol drink. You were exhausted to say the least, after a day of crime fighting and a not so well night of sleep, you didn’t really feel in a partying mood. But it was rare for all of your schedules to line up for a get together like you used to have, so you put a smile on your face and order two fingers of whiskey. The group had already been here a hour and a half, you had just payed all the tabs and were getting ready to leave. You leaned your head against the back of the booth and closed your eyes— just for a minute to rest them, blissfully unaware of the way Bakugou was side glancing you. Kaminari was going on about a bank robbery he busted a couple of days ago and did you think he was embellishing some of these details? Yes. But it kept the rest of the group in a trance so you were gonna keep your mouth shut about it. Everyone had been drinking pretty heavily, everyone but you.

You open your eyes back up. The bar was loud and smelt like a locker room of different scents. You were tired and grouchy and miserable today. It was times like these to you think about how nice it would be to have some…ahem…stress relief. Your eyes scan the bar area for a minute, zeroing in on the waitress you had earlier. She was a petite brunette with blue eyes and a short skirt. She smelt like a beta, but you could see scent patches on her neck— definitely a omega; a alpha would wear a stronger brand. She must have felt your gaze because the next thing your know she’s looking over her shoulder and batting her eyes at you in a almost seductive way.

You suddenly feel a petite hand on your face following a big shove, “Hey!” You protested, ushering Uraraka’s limbs away from you as she giggled, definitely a little drunk. All eyes on the table turned to the two of you as you struggled to get the wiggle worm to calm down.

“Someone’s making sex eyes at you” she teased in a sing song voice, definitely too loud for any sort of subtlety. The whole group irrupted into “Ohhh” and “Ahhh” and you suddenly wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Everyone started their teasing, everyone but Katsuki who was being uncharacteristically quite. You groaned and buried your head in arms, a blush covered your face that was so pink it looked like you were sunburned. Everyone at the table quite down almost instantly, and you allow your eyes to peak just above your arms to access the situation.

“Ahem,” you looked over to your right. The pretty waitress was staring back at you. She had her check book clutched to her chest in a nervous manner and her eyes seemed to look anywhere but at yours. Thanks for being so loud, Uraraka. “Your receipt.” She said, placing the paper on the table and sliding it to you. You nodded, a small smile of gratitude gracing your lips before she turned around and walked away. Your friends broke out into whispers and Kaminari started annoyingly nudging you in the side as you all stood up to leave. You wave him off.

With the receipt still in your hand, you all spit off in your different directions when you exit the bar. You and Bakugou head toward the direction of your car, since you work together it’s not uncommon for you to carpool to or from work, and since you had shared plans with your friends tonight it was decided by him that you would take the both of you. You haven’t heard a peep from the blonde since he yelled at Kirishima for double dipping in the salsa earlier. He had only spoke when spoken to tonight but you brushed that off as him being as tired as you were right now.

“She gave you her number.” He said emotionless, gesturing to the receipt in your hand. You flipped the piece of paper around and well, she did. Written in pretty girlish handwriting was her name, number, and ‘call me’ on the back of the receipt. So that’s why she gave it to you. Your face flushed again at the thought of a pretty omega taking interest in you. Sure there had been omega in the past that had took a shining to you, but most of them you shrugged off in favor of focusing on work or well, when your head was too fuzzy with the thoughts of maybe being with Bakugou. You wanted to know what she smelled like, without blockers on, would your scents be compatible? Of course, it could be a one night stand sort of deal, which would mean compatibility is basically a moot point because it wouldn’t be going anywhere serious. “Are you going to call her?” Bakugo pressed, which wasn’t like him at all. The two of you didn’t talk about your romantic lives ever. It was the one unspoken rule you shared since that dumb night in the dorms.

You knitted your eyebrows together, unsure of what answer he was probably expecting. “I think I will.” You answered honestly, feeling the burning gaze Bakugou had on your hand as you stuffed the receipt into your coat pocket and took your car keys out.

“You don’t even know her.” He argued, his pace slowing as he trailed behind you. There was something in his tone that you didn’t care to decipher, because you stopped trying to understand Bakugo on a personal level years ago. “I didn’t take you for the kind of alpha that sleeps around.” That was a low blow. You turn around, a hand on the drivers side door, and look at him. His eyes were unfocused, and stance was wobbly. How much did he have to drink again?

“Let’s get you home, Bakugo. We have to work in the morning.” You’re gonna brush off his words as after affects of too much alcohol. You were suspecting this to happen, it’s why your only had a sip of your drink the whole evening. Someone needed to drive home. Bakugou’s eyes narrowed in almost a menacing way and he didn’t take anymore steps towards your car.

“No!” He shouted, and suddenly you remember just how public this parking lot is as a passerby send a look your way. “Tell me your not gonna call her! You’re not that kind of alpha!” Your silent for a second, accessing your choices. You could have a loud verbal argument with your co-worker in the middle of the street, or you could put him over your shoulder like a child and take him to the car. You quickly rush over, all but throwing the blonde in the passenger seat of your car as he fight you in a very ungraceful way. “You wouldn’t do that to me.” That made you pause, halfway into bucking Bakugo’s seatbelt you turn to look at him. He had tears in the brims of his eyes and he looked like he was about to have a breakdown. He was a very emotional drunk.

“Bakugo, calm down.” You whispered, you don’t want him to cry. You’ve never seen him cry. You reach out and gently rub his cheek with your thumb, ignoring how your heart dropped to your stomach when he leaned into your touch.

You shut the passengers door on him and got in the drivers seat, Bakugo’s was struggling against the seatbelt. Tears were free falling down his cheeks and his breathing was getting short and rapid. It broke your heart to see the omega in distress over something stupid and meaningless like a phone number. He needed to calm down. You needed to calm him down. You quickly peeled off your scent blockers on your neck, allowing a calming scent to overtake the car. Bakugou found the click release of his seatbelt and launched himself into your lap, straddling your hips, rubbing his face on the sides of your neck, leaving a trail of tears in his wake.

The car was filled with a gentle humming sound. Purring.

_____

It was a surprise you didn’t get pulled over driving home. Bakugo refused to leave your lap, he refused to get out of the car without you when you drove to his place. You climbed up the stairs of your apartment complex to at a time, Bakugo was still in your arms and you had a feeling he wouldn’t let go of you anytime soon. Thank god you only lived on the second floor. As soon as you opened your front door Bakugo lifted his head from your neck, accessing your surroundings as you walked him further inside. He had never been to your place before — your den.

“Alright,” You said as you walked him into your bedroom, you manhandled the blonde on to your bed, met with a whole new wave of purring as you did so. Bakugo looked up at you with hooded eyes, rolling his back on your comforter, coating himself in your scent from the it. You were suddenly met with the scent of a very horny omega. Great. When did he take his scent patches off without you noticing. “You sleep here, I’ll sleep out there.” You ordered, before pointing out the door and to the couch in the living area. You had to be the one to keep a cool head in this situation, no matter how much his scent is making you want to bend his knees to his shoulders and rail into him until morning. He’s probably flexible enough to do it too. You made a move to leave.

Bakugo stared at you for a minute, then his hands had iron grips on your forearm, forcing you back on top of him and caging himself under you — you were dominating him. You could see the outline of his dick in his pants, and you could smell the slick gushing out of him. He was making it very hard to be a gentleman right now.

“I haven’t smelt your scent since high school” he whispered, hands began to stroke your shoulders and neck, a gesture he was hoping would invite you in, closer to him. It was the first thing he said since you had got out of the car. It was true, during high school you wore your scent blockers religiously after Bakugo had rejected you. You had to be with such close quarters with each other that you figured you’d be doing him a favor. You wore them during work for professionalism. The only time you didn’t wear your scent blockers now were when you were at home by yourself. “I’m sorry,”He whispered again, like someone else was gonna hear him. His hand slipped up from your shoulder to your neck, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, just like you did to him in the car. “I’m sorry I didn’t accept your gift then.”

You swallowed, you didn’t want to talk about it. You went five years without bringing it up, why was he bringing it up. “It’s okay.” You whispered back, then tried to untangle yourself from his limbs. You had to get out of here.

Bakugo didn’t let you go, as you tried to get him to release one of his hands he grabbed you with his other, and his legs around your waist, then flipped you over so you were trapped between the bed and him. He buried his head in your neck and inhaled deeply. He missed your scent, he missed you. And he didn’t want you to move on with another omega because of a mistake he made when he was seventeen. He wanted your pups, your mark, a bond. He never seen you take any interest in a omega that wasn’t him. Being here — in your apartment, surround by the scent he missed so much — was overwhelming. Had you ever brought anyone else here?

“It’s not okay.” He said, pining your hands to your side so you couldn’t lift him off of you. “I was miserable without you, you didn’t look at me for months, you asked fucking Deku to scent your shirts for you.”

“You didn’t want to be with me.”

“I’ll always want you.” Your faces were too close, you could feel his breath with every word. “I should’ve realized it then.” Bakugou kissed you, in a sweet and loving manner, it was slow and coordinated. It wasn’t aggressive and forceful like you always thought his kisses would be like. You tasted to alcohol on his tongue and suddenly remember just how much Bakugo had to drink tonight.

“You need to sleep, your gonna have a hangover in the morning.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Not if you don’t stay with me.”

“Just for tonight.”

_____

A/N: I’ll edit and proofread this later, I had a sudden burst of energy to write.

Edited and proofread 7/6/22

#bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x male reader #bnha x male reader #kirishima x male reader #denki kaminari x male reader #todoroki x male reader #izuku x male reader #bakugou angst #bakugou imagine #mha x male reader #male reader #alpha x omega #alpha genetics #omegaverse #alpha beta omega

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definitelynotstable · 7 months

Text

Accidents [Gaz x civillian!fem!Reader]

AN: Coffee shop AU!

Synopsis: You’re a barista and drop a whole tray of mugs – Gaz is the only customer in line to help you out. (Prompt by @nahterpie I believe) Fluff, Hurt/comfort. Word count: 1.7k Warnings: Blood, fainting Gaz x civillian!fem!Reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚

It’s the lunchtime rush. It happens every day yet still it manages to catch you off guard. The line stretches almost from the counter to the door and, as usual, you’re running behind on clearing the tables. The noisey clatter of dishes and the steady hum of conversation grates at you. Now is not the time for a headache.

Your arms are full of cups and saucers; your blinking rapidly to will the pounding in your head to leave when you trip. Everything falls to the floor with a loud crash and you stand still, stunned. The chatter stills for a moment and you can feel eyes prickle at the back of your neck.

“You alright, love?”

A voice snaps you out of your reverie and you focus on the man in front of you. He’s knelt on one knee and has started to push the broken pieces of cups and saucers to one side. His eyes glow like amber in the warm lighting and his brow is soft with compassion.

“Oh, shit,” you start, realising a customer is currently doing your job. “Sorry, yes. Please don’t bother – I’ll have it cleared in a jiffy.”

He chuckles, continuing to gather the the mess into a pile. “It’s no bother, I’m happy to help.”

You thump unceremoniously to your knees beside him and soon you’ve swept the pile into a dustpan and tipped it into a bin.

You turn to the man with a grateful smile. “Thank you so much. Coffee’s on us.”

He returns your smile but shakes his head, “You don’t need to do that.”

“I insist.” You reply before sticking your hand out, “I’m Y/N.”

“Kyle.” His hand is warm and firm around yours. When you pull back you notice something sticky one your fingers. Is that blood?

Your eyes widen looking first to your own palms and then his. He follows your gaze down to his hand and curls his fingers around his palm as if to hide it.

You reach out and unfurl his fist, shooting him a concerned glare when he tries to pull away.

“It’s fine –“ he tries only to be cut off by you.

“Fine? Kyle, you’re bleeding everywhere!” You say, the sight already making you squeamish. “Please, at least let me bandage it – we have a kit out back.”

He pulls his hand from yours, the thumb of his uninjured hand pressing against the cut. “Really, it’s nothing.”

You frown, brows furrowing. “Please? I already feel bad you had to clean up my mess.”

The man sighs with a smile, shaking his head. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

“It will.” You say, curling a hand around his wrist and pulling him behind the counter.

Your co-worker shoots you a confused look and you raise Kyle’s hand in her direction. “Just getting the first aid kit!” You call out and she nods, retuning to the till.

Kyle’s wrist is warm and soft, your thumb swipes back and forth completely subconsciously as you drag him into the small room where you take breaks. You swallow back your nausea as a rivulet of blood drips into your own hand, pulling out a chair for him and striding over to the sink. You’ve never been good with blood, call it pathetic but not everyone was built to be a surgeon or EMT.

The hot water makes you feel slightly less ill and you turn back to the man seated at the small table, first aid kit in hand. You settle into a seat across from him and unzip the kit.

“So…” you say, pulling out a few antiseptic wipes, taking his hand back in yours. “I’ve only seen you a couple of times in here, new to the area?”

“You could say that.” Kyle watches you, brown eyes smiling as you wipe away the blood from his hand. “I work at the base just out of town.”

You look up at him, surprised. “Army?”

He nods, “SAS.”

“Like the super special guys?” You still your movements and look down to where you are cleaning the cut in his palm. “You probably know how to do this way better than me.”

Kyle laughs and the sound makes your chest flutter. “You’re doing fine, love.”

“God, you’ve probably had much worse. I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to baby you over such a minor injury.”

The man only shakes his head with a smile. “Course I’ve had worse – doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the help.”

You return the smile, albeit weakly, feeling stupid for dragging a literal SAS soldier to sit down while you tend to his superficial wound with your meagre first aid kit and even worse skills. Sighing softly, you pull his palm up and further into the light. The sight of the cut makes your stomach turn and it doesn’t help that you’re now thinking about all the other potential injuries this man has suffered or tended to.

“Is it worth bandaging?” You ask the man across from you, conceding that he’ll certainly know more than you about this kind of thing.

He leans in to have a look and shrugs. “If you’ve got one,” he shrugs, “I’m sure I can manage to keep it on for a couple of hours.”

You let his hand rest on the table, swallowing thickly as the fluorescent lights hit the exposed wound. Ew, ew, ew.

Kyle frowns, tilting his head. “You ok? You look pale.”

You meet his gaze with a forced smile, “Just tired. Been here since six, you know?”

The man nods slowly, eyes still narrowed as he watches you.

“We’ve got a few bandages in the cupboard,” you say, sliding your chair out from the table, “gimme a sec.”

You push up with entirely too much force; the walls spin as your stomach rolls. The floor seems to rise up to meet you and everything goes dark and quiet for a second.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Something cool brushes your forehead and you jolt awake. Concerned brown eyes look down at you and a hand holds a damp flannel to your brow. Kyle. Everything floods back and you groan, raising a hand to cover your face in shame. Did you honestly just faint in front of a soldier? Someone who has seen literal war and you keel over at the sight of blood. Great first impression.

A warm hand pulls your own away from your face, his shadow covering you.

“What is it?” Kyle asks softly as he leans over you, “lights too bright?”

Your cheeks burn in shame. He probably thinks you’ve fallen ill or something.

“Just embarrassed.” You mumble and the man tilts his head in confusion.

“Say again?”

You sigh, pushing your hands into the crusty carpet of the break room – that’s right. You’re still at work.

“I’m embarrassed.” You say more clearly, rubbing a hand across your face, one of Kyle’s resting gently on the small of your back as you sit up.

He frowns again and you feel bad for all you’ve put this poor man through today.

“Why’s that?”

You huff out a laugh, meeting his gaze through your lashes, head hanging over your knees. “I just fainted over a bit of blood.”

He laughs, rubbing a few quick circles between your shoulder blades. “You’re not the first to do so, love. I’ve served with a few men who do the same.”

You lift your head and send him a skeptical look. “Really?”

He nods, “Really. Now how about we move to the couch, hm?”

“What about your hand?” You ask as he helps lever you up from the floor, “Do you still want a bandage?”

He deposits you gently on the cracked leather couch along the back wall before raising his hand – a white bandage covering his palm.

“Found one while you were napping.” He says with a smile, turning around to fill up a glass of water.

You sigh as he hands it to you, “I was supposed to be helping you.”

Kyle squats in front of you and gives your knee a pat. “You are helping me, I’m missing out on drills right now.”

You look up, horrified. “God, I’m making you late as well?!”

The man only throws his head back and laughs; the warm flutter returns to your chest.

“I was running late anyway, now I have an excuse.” He grins cheekily, “besides, it isn’t often I get to help out a pretty lady.”

You blush completely red, unsure what to say and instead take a large gulp of water, accidentally breathing it in. You cough and splutter, Kyle immediately taking the glass from you and giving you a firm pat between your shoulder blades.

Your eyes water and he returns to rubbing your back as you gasp for breath. “S-sorry!”

He shushes you with a smile, leaving to refill your water before sinking onto the couch beside you. You go to take the glass from him with shaking hands, only for him to maintain his grip, guiding it to your lips. You take a few sips and he lowers the glass.

“Better?”

You nod, “Better.”

He rubs his thighs a little before standing, holding out something to you. Your phone. You take it from him, sending him a confused look.

“Feel out of your pocket when you fell,” he says with a grin.

“Right…”

He winks teasingly at you, turning to grab the jacket he’d slung over the chair before.

“I’ll see myself out,” he says, raising a hand when you try get up form the couch. “Rest, drink plenty of water, have a snack. I’ll let your manager know on my way out.”

You go to protest but you still feel awfully shaky. Instead you nod. “Thank you, Kyle.”

He grins back at you, “Of course.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

It’s only once he’s gone when you open your phone. There’s a new ‘quick note’ open, something you can create even when someone’s phone is locked.

XX-XXX-XXX-XXX

Accidents happen! It was lovely to meet you regardless ;)

-Kyle

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Masterlist

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #call of duty #task force 141 #141 x reader #cod mw2 #gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #cod gaz #kyle garrick #gaz x female reader #gaz x you #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle garrick x y/n #cod fluff #mw2 #gazfest

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black-is-iconic · 3 months

Text

Closed doors

Just a little bored drabble for @nessieartss brother au I hope you like~

"It's so hot….." you mumbled from the floor of Yuji's bedroom spread out like a star fish as he fanned you with a makeshift fan (made out of a lid from a plastic container), "oi why do I have to fan you I'm hot too you know" Yuji grumbled softly but continued to fan you anyway.

"You lost the game and we bet on it" you said with a smug look sitting up and resting your head in the palm of your hand as you pointed a polished finger at him, "it's not my fault your ass at Mario kart" Yuji's eyes twitched and he growled.

"I do not suck at Mario Kart, you cheated," he said 'accidentally' slapping you on the head with the plastic bin. "Owie meanie I'm going to tell everyone you abuse girls" you said with a huff puffing out your cheeks, "funny I didn't know you were a girl" he retorted earning a dramatic gasp and assault via pillow from you.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK YOU JERK" you shouted pummeling him with his pillow as he laughed on the floor and curled up into the fetal position, "calm down I was joking," he said with a laugh raising his hands in surrender."

"you're not funny" you pouted throwing the pillow on his face. Yuji peeked out at your teary-eyed face and your puffed-out cheeks and pulled you in for a hug "you know I love you" he said pulling you close to his chest, resting his face in-between the crook of your neck as his arms coil around your waist tightly.

"Let me go you jerk I don't wanna play with you anymore" you grumbled kicking and squirming in his grasp, "aww you're so cute~ like a little grumpy cat" Yuji murmured softly poking your cheek and humming into your skin.

An irk mark formed on your forehead and you turned around biting his finger which he simply laughed at, you eventually let go of his finger and rested your face upon his chest relaxing into the warmth of him and drinking in his scent.

You could hear the soft beating of his heart and felt the gentle vibrations against your own chest. After a moment of blissful silence he rested his chin on your head, "wanna play more Mario kart?"

He asked and you smirked "nah let's play smash" Yuji pulled your cheek with a gentle smile "but you know I'm bad at that game" he whined letting out an exasperated sigh "Sounds like a you problem" you coed playfully booping his nose. Yuji was about to say something when he heard movement coming from downstairs, "huh looks like my brother's home" he muttered softly and instantly you froze a small pout forming on your lips.

"Don't bolt let me introduce you to him he's nice.... occasionally " Yuji tired coaxing you even trying to hold you tighter, but you were as fluid and slippery as water and slipped out of his embrace bolting for the cracked open window and springing through it with practiced ease, landing in a barrel roll.

Which always amazed him since his room was on the second floor, not a second later the door to his room flew open and Sukuna burst in running at him and shouting "WHERE IS SHE?"

Yuji blinked twice "w-where's who-" he shouted before he choked as Sukuna encased him in aheadlockk with a smiled from ear to ear "you can't lie to me you little rascal unless your feet suddenly shrank and you've taken up an interest in hello kitty".

Yuji squirmed in his brothers grasps uselessly clawing at his arm with no results, "f-fine there WAS a girl but you scared her off with your loud mouth" Sukuna enthusiastically spun him around as Yuji flailed for balance "let go of me you ogre".

He hissed as Sukuna ruffled his spikey pink locks, "my little bro's finally becoming a man, took ya long enough " he teased pinching Yuji's cheek, "get off me asshole" Yuji pushed against his brother but couldn't help but laugh along as his cheeks took on a rosy hue.

"You're so annoying" he grumbled as Sukuna let him go "so where's the lady?" He asked searching the room, peeking under the bed and in the closet Yuji rubbed his neck and sighed "I already told you she bolted through the window when she heard you running up the stairs".

Sukuna stuck his head out the window and peeked out the grass below "from the second floor? Damn that's some fancy acrobatics" Sukuna exclaimed looking out of the window again and then back to Yuji.

"Did you…." he asked lowering his eyebrows in a suggestive tone, Yuji's entire face turned bright red and he covered his face in embarrassment. "N-no wh- I- Ju- ca- NO" he mumbled stuttering softly and rubbing his face.

Sukuna laughed again and pulled on his ear "come on can yo blame me? A boy and a girl alone in a room for who knows how long with the door closed?"

He asked laughing even harder at Yuji's mortified expression, Yuji looked at him with wide eyes "can we just drop it?" He murmured closing his eyes in embarrassment and coughing into his enclosed fist "geez" he muttered and Sukuna sighed "fine fine" he mused patting his back

#yuji x reader #jjk #alternate universe

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mrwavellswaps · 1 year

Text

A Worthy Replacement (Part 3)

(Written for @bodyswappingandshit ❤️)

Read Part 2 Here!

Martin found himself waking up early the next day. He must’ve forgotten to close his curtains last night as the morning sun immediately blinded him, prompting him to keep his eyes shut for a bit longer. As he did, he lamented over the amazing dream he’d had last night. In it he’d not only got to see the incredible Chris Bumstead in person but he also ended up transforming into him somehow and taking that award winning body all for himself! ‘If only that were real’ he thought. Only as the seconds ticked by, he started to remember more and more details strangely enough…

After a minute or two he rolled over in bed a little only to find that his weight and size felt off, not to mention the facial hair he felt rubbing against the pillow. His waking brain swiftly began to connect the dots causing Martin’s eyes to snap open and look down at himself. The very first thing he saw was a pair of thick meaty pecs that lead down to what looked to be a massive body hidden under the covers. That was no dream. He really did become Chris Bumstead and now he was waking up in his body!

A giddy smile soon crossed Martin’s face as he went to town feeling and groping his body once again. Tweaking his bodybuilder nipples with glee as he threw the covers off himself to admire everything he had now. Running his hands along his abs, giving his meaty thighs a hard slap, squeezing his colossal biceps and of course massaging his huge pecs with glee. And the best part was that he had Chris’ morning wood! Naturally he just couldn’t ignore it for another second. He wrapped a hand around the meaty shaft, one significantly thicker than his old one, and didn’t waste any time. He was too horny to tease himself or go slow, instead jumping immediately to jackhammering his new cock with no remorse.

The real Chris, in his underwear form, was still sat across the room atop a pile of clothes Martin had left him on. Forced to bear witness to his own body pleasuring itself. Having to listen to Martin grunting with that stolen voice as he pumped away. That alone was already torturous enough. Yet, just as he didn’t think it couldn’t get any worse, Martin started groaning about how much he loved being Chris Bumstead and having such a giant sexy body all to himself.

It felt as though it went on for hours with this imposter furiously beating his meat to the point where hearing him moaning about finally cumming seemed like a mercy. Martin tensed his abs and, with nothing but pure lust for his new form in his eyes, shot a huge load all over himself. His muscular torso gaining a healthy coating thick cum as he couldn’t help but lay back with a huge grin on his face. How the hell did he get so lucky he wondered.

The bodybuilder took a minute or so to bask in the afterglow before sitting up. He reached over towards the bedside table, grabbing a box of tissues before pulling a couple out. He gave himself a good wipe down, making sure to get right in between the ridges of his thick abs where the cum had pooled. It was only as he tossed those used tissue into the bin across the room that the pair of underwear atop the clothes pile caught his eye. He couldn’t help but smirk knowing the real Chris had seen everything that just went down. Was it mean? Yes. But was it hot? Absolutely!

He pushed himself off the rather small mattress and planted his heavy feet on floor before getting up with a long stretch. With that he stomped over towards the discarded clothes and picked up Chris in his underwear form first of all before grabbing Chris’ gym clothes from yesterday. After all he was still in his old apartment and none of his old clothes would ever fit a body like this. As such, Martin made a mental note to head down to Chris’ house today and check it out for himself. With that in mind and his clothes in hand, Martin promptly made his way towards the bathroom.

Chris found himself being dropped onto the cold bathroom floor along with the rest of the gym clothes he’d worn yesterday before that Wavell guy came and fucked everything up. He could just about see Martin stepping in front of the mirror with a gleeful look on his face. As expected it didn’t take long for him to start checking himself out again. Flexing his arms and bouncing his pecs joyously. Even digging his nose into his armpit and getting a whiff of that fresh morning scent.

Martin just couldn’t get enough of it. The raw size, power and smell of his body was nothing short of intoxicating. That along side his gorgeous looks make him feel on top of the world. He admired every defined ridge of muscle as if he were the one that’d sculpted them. Feeling every bulge with a look of pure satisfaction crossing his face. Truly nothing could beat the feeling of being a complete and utter muscle hunk. Hell being a muscle hunk was basically his job description now!

Though before he moved to brush his teeth, there was one last thing Martin wanted to do. He shuffled a tad closer to mirror and started pulling a bunch of silly faces that you’d almost never see the original Chris doing. It was so surreal and hilarious at the same time. He did all sorts from sticking his tongue out to a huge cheesy grin and even giving his reflection the puppy dog eyes. By the end he certainly got a good laugh out of it and weirdly enough seeing this face move completely under his command helped him feel just a tad bit more in tune with his new body.

After having his fun, Martin made sure to give his face a good wash and his teeth a clean before finally getting dressed. Naturally he pulled on the possessed underwear first and the moment he did, his mind was flooded with complaints from Chris about having to see Martin jerk off the cock that he stole, shouting about how it’s his body and demanding that Martin find a way to fix this immediately. Martin tried to be nice at first as he pulled on his shorts and tank top but Chris just wouldn’t let up. In the end it took Martin losing his patience and threatening to toss him in the washing machine at max spin for Chris to finally pipe down.

———

Half an hour later Martin found himself finishing a rather large bowl of oats along with a small smoothie he’d whipped up as per Chris’ suggestion. As he dunked the bowl into the sink to be washed, he began to wonder what the hell he should even be doing right now. After all he couldn’t just go to work like usual because, if Mr Wavell’s spell did what is was supposed to then, his former identity should’ve been erased altogether. Not to mention he was now an extremely well known body builder.

“So uhmm… what do you do for money and all that? I mean it can’t all just be the Olympia money right?” Martin asked curiously.

Chris rolled his metaphorical eyes at the question before answering reluctantly. “I run two businesses that I mainly advertise online. Cbum Fittness and Raw Nutrition. Just another reason you need to find a way to fix this because I know you’re sure as hell gonna crash and burn both of them. Especially since everyone probably thinks I’ve gone AWOL for the past day already!”

That was right, Martin remembered now. Cbum Fitness was Chris’ clothing brand and Raw Nutrition was his supplement brand. Unfortunately he was probably right about the last part as well. “Alright fine, I’ll head down to your place later but you’d better fill me in on everything I need to know about your friends, family and businesses. Otherwise it’s gonna be your fault when they crash and burn as you say.”

“Ha! I’m not gonna tell you shit! The less I tell you the more of a chance I have of people figuring out you’re a fucking imposter that somehow stole my body!” Chris scoffed.

Unfortunately Martin couldn’t exactly force the information out of Chris and it didn’t seem like the man turned underwear was gonna budge on his stance. That is until a certain naughty little idea popped into Martin’s head. Luckily for him, he was able to block his thoughts just enough for Chris not hear what he was planning…

Seconds later Martin grabbed his phone off the counter before swiping over to the camera. It was only when Martin pulled his shorts down, allowing Chris to actually be able to see, did the other man begin to question what he was doing. For a second Chris was worried Martin was gonna follow through with his threat about the washing machine but, unfortunately for him, Martin had something far better in mind.

“H-hey!?” What the fuck are you doing??” Chris shouted internally as Martin proceeded glance over his shoulder to take photo after photo of his thick muscle ass as it pressed tightly against the fabric of his underwear. Really making sure to get plenty of low angles that would make it look as juicy as possible despite all the protests. Once he was satisfied, Martin brought his phone back up and began scrolling through all the photo’s he just took.

“Oooooo… that one’ll do nicely!” He smirked before exiting photo’s and hopping over to Instagram. Upon logging in he was delighted to see that his assumption was correct. Instead of his own account, Martin was logged into Chris’ official and verified Instagram account instead! With a sinister grin he immediately jumped to post a new story on the account. He grabbed the best of many ass photo’s he’d taken and selected it for the story before adding the caption *‘Who else thinks my ass is lookin thicc as fuck today?’* Then with one final smirk Martin pressed the post button and watched as within seconds the story was getting likes, DM replies and reposts galore! Not too surprising considering he now had over 15 and a half million followers!

It was getting increasingly difficult for Chris to read any of Martin’s thoughts as the latter got better at hiding them. But he was able to gather enough to know he’d posted something to Instagram. That coupled with the pics Martin had just taken threw Chris into a panicked spiral. “Oh no no no! What the hell did you just do!?”

Martin didn’t say a word. He simply opened up the story again and lowered the phone in front of his crotch so that Chris could see for himself. Needless to say he was absolutely mortified to see an admittedly rather alluring picture of his thick ass posted on social media for everyone to drool over!! After a moment or two of shock he went ballistic! Screaming and threatening Martin to take it down right away but the man now in possession of his body was completely unfazed by his madness. Instead he opted to set up a tripod before opening his camera app once again and placing it on said tripod.

The hulking man took a few steps back after hitting the record button until his full body was finally in frame. Getting a glorious shot of Chris Bumstead himself stood in only a tank top, briefs and gym socks. The real Chris was both confused and very worried as Martin spun around to show his backside once more. Martin proceeded to look over his shoulder towards the camera once more with a grin before squatting down a little and arching his back. But it wasn’t until he began to feel a certain up and down, almost bouncing, motion that it dawned on him what Martin was doing…

“Mmmm wow… look at my ass shake!” Martin chuckled as he proceeded to twerk like a pro for the camera. “Fuuuuck… even with all the muscle there’s so much recoil to it.” He complimented himself, starting to feel his dick stir once again at the sight of his big muscle butt jiggling like it was. He made a point to show it off as much as possible, rotating his hips a few times before squatting down a little more and really throwing it back as if he were a porn star trying to make his living.

Chris was utterly appalled by what Martin was forcing his body to do. Let alone recording it!? He tried telling the man to stop but by now he should’ve known that was pointless. Instead he just had to sit and endure it whilst feeling every shake of his own ass against his fabric body until Martin was finally satisfied.

“Now *that* is a hot video. I’m willing to bet there’s people out there who’d pay hundreds to see yo- *me* twerking like this.” Martin commented as he watched the recording back, knowing full well that before all this he would’ve done anything to get his hands on a video like this. “So now you’ve got two choices. Either you tell me what I need to know or I post this video of me shaking this gorgeous ass of mine. Simple as that.”

Chris was silent for a moment but that alone was telling enough. “Fine… I’ll tell you.” He mumbled at last just as Martin knew he would.

Over the next couple hours, Martin took a crash course on the personal life of Chris Bumstead. Making sure to ask every important question he could think of about his new life to which Chris reluctantly answered. Though it’s not as if he had much of a choice with the threat of him twerking going viral looming over his metaphorical head. Martin tried to memorise the simple things but wrote down a few other details he might need just in case. After all the last thing he needed was his new family and friends interrogating him and thinking he had amnesia or something. But eventually 11:00am rolled around and Martin decided it was about time he hit the gym before checking out Chris’ place.

It didn’t take long for Martin to gather up his stuff and make a quick protein shake before tossing it all in a bag. Chris had asked a couple times if Martin could take him off and wear some normal underwear to the gym but Martin refused. After all he might need the bodybuilding champion’s advice for certain exercises. And so Martin tossed on his sneakers, getting flashbacks to when he’d been huffing them just yesterday, before heading off to the gym. A place where he’d probably be spending a lot more time at from now on.

———

Upon stepping foot inside the gym once again, Martin couldn’t help but feel a wave of nervousness flow over him. One would think that with his new body he’d feel confident, cocky even, knowing he was bigger and stronger than most of the men here. Yet he couldn’t help but blush and feel incredibly shy as he noticed people looking at him, clearly recognising him for who he was. It was swiftly becoming clear that being a celebrity was something that would take some getting used to. For now he just tried to mind his business and make his way into the locker room.

Upon opening Chris’ locker, Martin found the spare clothes and towel he’d left in there last time he was here. Well at least now he’d have something else to wear after the gym until he got his hands on some more clothes that actually fit around this tank of a body. For now he proceeded to drop off his stuff in the locker and close it up before taking a deep breath and heading towards the sound of clanking weights and grunting men.

Martin looked around the gym at all the various different pieces of equipment. Of course he’d used most of it before and back then he wasn’t worried about making a silly mistake here and there. But now? With the feeling that everyone would be watching? He couldn’t help but let his nerves get the best of him at first, instead opting to start by walking on the step machine for awhile to build himself up. During which he took his sneakers off as it was usually best to do such during leg day. Allowing the pungent scent from his socks and feet to be freed. Even now those socks were wet with sweat and they would only become more so as his session went on.

During this he found himself having a bit of an inner conversation with Chris. The man was telling him to stop complaining and just get the hell on with it. Besides they’d already gone over Chris’ whole leg routine for the day so all Martin had to do was man-up and get it done. He also made a note of saying he wanted it over with as soon as possible as he was already beginning to smell a faint aroma of sweat of which he wasn’t particularly fond of…

Martin took what Chris had said to heart before jumping off the treadmill and making his way over towards the leg extension machine. Come on! He was Chris Bumstead now for crying out loud! He couldn’t let the fear of judgement get in his way. Instead he got himself sat down on the machine after adjusting the weight to the exact amount Chris had suggested. 120KG! Martin hesitated for a second as he’d never been able to do that much weight on a leg extension before but looking down at his gigantic quads gave him all the confidence he needed to give it a shot.

Though the weight was heavy, Martin found himself managing to crank out two full sets without too much issue, pushing his big smelly feet up into view of everyone at the gym with every rep. At which point he decided to up the weight from 120 to 140. After that he was finally starting to feel a burning in his quads but it felt incredible! Like that burning sensation of pushing your muscles to work hard and grow was something this body was truly addicted to and he loved it!

After a couple more sets he found himself satisfied and ready to move onto the next exercise and if memory served then it was over to the hack squat machine. Planting his damp, socked feet on the pad as Martin began his low weight warm up set, he would’ve noticed the few wandering eyes from around the gym if it hadn’t been for Chris already complaining about the smell. Martin was starting to build up a bit of a sweat and nobody was more aware of it than the pair of sentient underwear that had to absorb it. And absorb he did as Martin continued to work up more and more of a sweat once he put some proper weight on the machine. Making sure to go nice and deep with every squat. Beforehand part of him had been dreading the idea of having to workout everyday to maintain this body but now he was here, Martin had no idea why!

“Fuuck I’m so damp…” Chris mumbled in the back of Martin’s mind as the hunk finished up his last set here. “God it fucking smells…” he continued on, referring to Martin’s cock and balls stinking him up as they got sweatier along with the rest of his body. Though just hearing those comments made Martin’s dick twitch. Knowing Chris was being forced to sniff it all up. It was basically the equivalent of if he’d been forced to shove his face into his own crotch and was unable to remove it. It was making Martin so horny but he had to keep his cool for now.

This cycle ends up repeating itself throughout Martin’s entire routine. As with every new exercise Martin would only find himself sweating more and more, leaving a seemingly endless supply of sweat for Chris to unwillingly absorb into his fabric body. After the hack squat he jumped to leg press machine, keeping his feet to the bottom for quad focus upon Chris’ instructions. Though Martin couldn’t help but notice the subtle slurring of Chris’ words as he explained. Yet he continued on, pushing himself further and surprising himself with how good his form was thanks to muscle memory.

Before long Martin was drenched in sweat after completing a few sets of Bulgarian split squats, which were hellish even with his incredible new body. But as he made his way over to a weighted calf raise machine, Martin couldn’t help but notice how quiet Chris was getting. Throughout that entire last exercise, all he heard was “Sooo moist…” along with a couple other murmurs that he couldn’t make out. I seemed like having to absorb all that sweat and musk was having more of an effect on Chris than Martin thought it would…

The hunk didn’t take long with jumping into calf raises, tugging on his large sneakers once again beforehand and entrapping his musky scent inside them once more.

As he did he found himself glancing around the room again. Seeing all these people of different shapes and sizes. And yet… he was biggest. Huge all over with pure muscle that made him look like a beast. He couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of pride in that fact but he tried to stay humble all the same just as the real Chris would. Of course that didn’t stop him checking himself out a little in one of the many wall mirrors after his last exercise before finally heading back to the locker rooms.

He pulls out the bag with the spare clothes from yesterday along with a clean towel before getting undressed. He figured he could probably get a shower at Chris’ place but it was probably better to take care of this workout stench ASAP. Proceeding to wrap the towel around his waist after taking off his possessed underwear and tossing them in his locker for the time being, still slightly concerned about the lack of communication from Chris as he headed towards the showers.

Naturally part of Martin wanted to do a replay of last night where he’d been worshipping himself under the steaming water but he couldn’t even begin to imagine the headlines if people heard him pleasuring himself in a local gym. Nope, now he was a celebrity he had to be more careful about those kinds of things. Which certainly meant he couldn’t go around stealing other men’s sweaty clothes and sniffing them, even if that was how he managed to get this incredible and famous body to begin with.

Thankfully he managed to keep himself under control despite not quite getting used to how erotic it was to wash such a huge muscular body. Martin stepped back into the main locker room with the towel around his waist once again before reaching into his locker and grabbing the clean clothes Chris had brought with him the previous day. There was a clean pair of underwear as well but Martin decided to put on Chris anyway to see if he’d gotten over whatever weird haze he was in earlier. After all, there was still so much he needed to learn about his new life.

Martin locked himself in a changing cubicle, ironically the same one in which his transformation had occurred, and pulled on the underwear first and foremost. Right away he could hear Chris’ voice in his head once more. “Yooouu fuckinn asshole… Give back… my… my… mmmm musk… fuuuuuck…” Chris mumbled. He was slurring his words like hell as if he were drunk out of his mind but at least he was talking again. With a sigh of relief, Martin threw on the rest of his clothes before grabbing his stuff and marching his way out of the locker room. Next stop was his new house so he could start figuring out his new life for real!

———

The next couple days were a headache to say the least. Trying to integrate himself into another man’s life wouldn’t easy for anyone, especially one as famous as Chris Bumstead. It didn’t help that the real Chris was still quite reluctant to help out of spite half the time and Martin usually had to resort to blackmailing him again with the video he’d made.

When he first arrived at Chris’ house it was quite the whirlwind. He had friends and family alike all asking where the hell he’d been prompting him to come up with some elaborate lies as to why he’d gone awol for a day and a half. Not to mention half of them having seen his Instagram story which was a little harder to explain. Guess he hadn’t thought that one through entirely at the time. Regardless, by some miracle, he was able to convince them he was the real Chris. After all its not like anyone could’ve stolen his body because that’d just be insane right? Nonetheless Martin did get a couple comments that he seemed a little… off. Luckily he was able to convince everyone that he was just struggling with some ‘Personal Stuff’ that he wasn’t ready to talk about just yet.

After that he found himself settling into Chris’ life pretty well for time being. He had a decent place for sure. Not too big but still fancy enough that anyone could tell he was well off. Martin had already gotten glimpses of the place before when watching Chris’ YouTube video’s in the past but it certainly looked a little different now. He could only guess that was because it no longer had Chris’ former fiancée’s touch due to Wavell’s reality spell making it so they were never together.

It was then that an amazing idea came to mind. He was single now but the world still thinks Chris is straight so what better way than to introduce his new self to the world than to sign up to a gay dating app! Sure he could try doing some big public announcement and get all the social media praise but that wouldn’t be as fun.

Besides that Martin continues to run his new businesses as well as he can while keeping up with the workout routine Chris had guided him through. Well sort of anyway. It was like every time Martin went to the gym these past few days, Chris was getting more and more drunk on the sweat and musk. Always slurring his words when they communicated and making off hand comments about how he wanted more sweat. How he wanted the smell now rather than rejecting it. Martin even resorted to washing Chris despite the protests in an effort to get him back to normal which didn’t work exactly how he’d planned. If anything it just pissed him off, saying how it felt like he’d been forced to eat soap. Sure it made him a tad more normal for awhile but it didn’t take long for him to start groaning about musk again once Martin continued to wear him.

The hunk knew he should probably stop wearing Chris so often as to preserve his mind but he so often found himself needing to ask questions. Not to mention he couldn’t help the fact that hearing Chris groan about loving his scent turned him on like hell. Even now after nearly a week of his new life he was back at the gym again and wearing his Chris underwear like usual. Just doing what was now supposed to be his normal routine while trying not to get a boner because of how much loved his new self and how much he adored hearing Chris moan.

———

It was chest day for Martin and he was really trying to push his limits with bench pressing to see how far he could go. However, after putting a bunch of weight on the bar, he found himself struggling to push the bar up for his final rep. Arms shaking a little as he started to contemplate shoving the bar off to the side so he doesn’t end up crushing himself. That is until another man walked up and grabbed the bar, helping Martin put it back safely on the rack.

“Hey bro. I know you’re a big dude and you know your shit but you should probably have someone spotting you if you’re gonna press weight like that.” The man said with a smile as he offered a hand to help sit Martin up. As he did, Martin was able to get a better look at this guy. He was pretty huge that was for sure. Thick, powerful muscle that would’ve intimidated the hell out of Martin if it weren’t for the size he’d adopted from Chris. Instead he simply found himself trying to hide his lust for it as he briefly checked out this man’s other features. Cropped strawberry blonde hair paired with a short and well trimmed beard. A sharp, handsome and masculine face fitting for a meathead type of dude with some charm. Not to mention to layer of hair coating those bulbous pecs of his that looked as though they were spilling out of that tank top.

“Oh uhhh yeah of course. Pretty fuckin stupid of me to go that heavy without a partner. Thanks man.” Martin replied, trying not to make it too obvious how badly he wanted to fuck this man right now. More importantly he was trying to remember if Chris had ever mentioned a dude like this. Was he somebody he was supposed to know? A workout buddy of Chris’? Or was he just another dude at the gym? It was questions like this that’d been giving Martin a hard time since taking over Chris’ life.

Before Martin had time to figure it out, the man spoke up again. “Hey, how’s about we finish our routines together. I’m hitting chest as well so we can spot each over yeah?” He suggested cheerfully to which after a moment of thought Martin agreed. “Alright! That’s my man! Now move over so I can get my own bench press in!” He chuckled.

Martin stood over the bench from behind as this strange man heaved the heavy bar up and down. It was impressive to say the least. Sure Martin had just been doing that weight but he had the body of Mr Fuckin Olympia on his side. As he spotted, he tried to question the real Chris on who this man might be but he wasn’t a whole lot of help. He was already part way into his workout so Chris was already getting to that subtle moaning stage where he hardly replied. Despite that he couldn’t help but get a strange feeling that he should know this guy somehow.

The two continued to exercise together, taking turns using machines and spotting each over when using weights.

The pair of them making small talk as they went with Martin still trying to figure out a smart way to ask who the hell this guy was without making it obvious. Though he could swear this dude was flirting with him with all the comments was making about how incredible Martin’s body looked all the time. Some of which Martin couldn’t help but return.

Eventually though, after plenty of hard work and really putting themselves to the test, the two gorgeous hunks found themselves at the end of their shared workout. Sweaty and exhausted yet both loving the pump they’d gotten. Seems this guy was just as addicted to feeling the burn of a good workout as Martin’s new body was.

They headed into the locker room together when suddenly the mystery hunk said something strange. “You still haven’t realised have you? Who I am?” He smirked.

Martin turned with a raised eyebrow. “W-what do you mean?”

The other man took a few steps closer. “I mean it makes sense. After all I certainly didn’t look like this the last time you saw me.” He said while gesturing down at his impressive muscled physique. “I picked a good one, that’s for sure.”

Martin narrowed his eyes a little as he turned to look at the hunk properly again. Scanning over his body once more as the cogs in his brain began to turn. Surely not. It couldn’t be right?! “Who are you?”

“About time you asked! Well right now I’m going by my current body’s first name, Kyle. But you would know me better as the friendly wizard next door, Mr Wavell!” He exclaimed with a joyous grin on his face.

Now it all made sense. That weird feeling he got earlier. How friendly and flirty this guy had been acting with him. It all made sense! This was somehow that crazy magic dude that’d made all this possible in the first place! “Oh wow…” was all he could say initially as he processed it all. “…So this is the new body you and your boyfriend picked out huh?”

“It is indeed my man. This youth and muscle looks fucking incredible on me don’t you think?” Kyle Wavell praised himself as he flexed a little, showing off his goods. “This body makes me feel like such god damn hunk!” He kissed one of his bulging biceps with a cocky grin. “But I’ve got to confess. This isn’t the only new body I took. I may have gotten a little greedy and took two that I can transform between as I please.”

Martin almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing right now. Had it not been for his own situation then he definitely wouldn’t have. “Wait two!? What does the other one look like?”

Wavell wagged a finger and tutted. “Sorry big man, I’ve dubbed today ‘Kyle day’ so I won’t be shifting into my other self as of right now. Sorry to disappoint. But hey maybe next time I see ya I’ll introduce you to my other body who wouldn’t you know it is also called Chris.” He explained, clearly having way too much acting like a meathead today. “But now for the real reason I’m here. I wanted to ask if you’d received any of Chris’ memories yet?”

“Memories? Nope. I’ve just been asking him a ton of questions mainly. Although he hasn’t been as helpful lately. He won’t stop grunting and going on about my smell.”

Wavell grinned as it seemed Martin hadn’t figured out another little aspect of the magic he’d placed on Chris and Martin. “Well faking it might get you through the short term but eventually you’re gonna find yourself tripping up trying to juggle Chris’ life if you don’t have the all memories you need to do so. Luckily for you however, all you need to do is ask.”

“What? What do you mean ask? Like he can just give his memories to me whenever he wants?” Martin questioned.

“I guess you could say that. The way it works is that all you’ve gotta do is ask Chris to give you his memories. If he agrees they’ll automatically be transferred with you. After that you’ll be all set.” The Warlock continued while scratching his beard nonchalantly. “And guessing by what you’ve told me… I’m willing to bet he’s already pretty suggestive.”

Martin glanced down at his crotch. Was it really that easy all along? All he had to do… was ask?

“Well as much as I’d love to stay, chat and suck each over off, I promised Dane I wouldn’t be long. I’m surprised he hasn’t showed up already to see what’s taking me.” Wavell chuckled. “Besides I can already tell you’ve got plenty of other men lined up and ready to suck your cock judging by all the notifications from that dating app you installed.”

“How did you know about that??”

“Magic.” Wavell said as he waved a pair of jazz hands at the clueless sculpture of a man before him. “Anyway I’ve bodies to swap, people to transform and a boyfriend to please so I’ll leave you to it bro. I have every faith that you’ll squeeze those memories out of your friend down there and be living your best life soon enough!” He clasped his hands enthusiastically. “So until me meet again Chris.” He smirked before vanishing before Martin’s eyes in a swift flash of purple smoke, theatrical as always. Hardly giving Martin a chance to say goodbye.

And so the bodybuilder was left on his own once again. Now he knew exactly what he had to do in order to truly make this new life his own. And he was going to take it.

———

The door to Martin’s new place swung open as he got home from a jog back from the gym, already having worked up a decent sweat and for good reason. He didn’t have anything lined up for the rest of the day as far as he could recall which meant he had the place to himself. Perfect.

“So Chris. Not sure if you heard what that crazy magic guy said but I’m gonna need you to give up ownership of your memories!” He proclaimed out loud after tossing his shorts off and across the room. “So you gonna give em to me or what?”

Chris groaned a little as he tried to comprehend Martin’s words. “Mmmm… fuuck… what? Memories?… N-no. They’re mine… you can’t have them.” He just about managed to reply despite his seemingly drunken state.

“Oh yeah? Well let’s see if I can help change that tune of yours. You like feasting on your own sweat don’t ya?” Martin jumped on the treadmill without hesitation, tapping a few buttons before the thing started to move.

“Yes I… No… I don’t absolutely fucking love that sweaty scent. No fuck!…” Chris battled with himself and the new urges that’d been growing inside him over the last few days. Urges that’d becoming increasingly hard to fight against to the point where it was burdening on addiction. But he couldn’t give in! He couldn’t let this imposter win!

Martin soon found himself turning the treadmill up from a jog to a run. Hearing the machine creak slightly under his weight with every step. More and more sweat dripping from every pore. Soaking his tank top and more importantly his underwear more and more with every second. Pushing himself to go for as long and fast as possible. Running until he felt as though he’d just stepped out into heavy rain with how drenched he was. So much so that Chris was becoming overwhelmed by the intensifying smell. More or less shouting internally about how much he fucking loves the smelly scent and that he wants to absorb every last drop of sweat like a mad man.

“Ready to… give up those… memories yet!?” Martin shouted down at the pair of sentient briefs between heavy breathes as he slowed the treadmill down at last. Hoping that the overload of smell and sweat he’d just given the former Mr Olympia had been enough to wear him down.

“Fuck! Fuck! So sweaty! So fucking smelly! Smells soooo good! I-I-” Chris stuttered as he finally processed what he’d been asked again. “I… said no! You can’t have my memories!!” He continued to protest despite it all which came as quite the shock to Martin.

He really though that would do it. Martin started to think that maybe he’d have to give it a few more days. Wait for Chris’ mind to hopefully corrupt a little further until it was more malleable. Maybe then he’ll be able to get the answer he wants. However, just as he was about to give up for now, an idea sprung to mind causing a devilish smirk to spread across Martin’s handsome yet stolen face.

The massive hunk of man hurried his way to the bedroom after kicking off his sneakers and peeling off his shirt. He soon found himself kneeled on his new king sized bed facing the huge bedroom wall mirror that covered the closet. Damn he loved his new place. Almost as much as he loved pleasuring this new body of his. A body didn’t ever plan on losing.

With that Martin sunk a hand down into his briefs, earning a strangely satisfied grunt from Chris as his fabric body was stretched. After which grabbing his already half hard cock and giving it a few strokes. Now usually this would be the point where he pulls down his briefs some more to unleash his cock completely but not this time. No sir. Those briefs stayed right where they were as Martin kept pumping away at his huge manhood despite the constraining fabric.

“H-hey? Mmmm fuck… W-what are you doing!?” Chris panicked a little while battling with his urges, trying hard not to moan out again about how much he adored the scent he was absorbing. Unfortunately for him Martin didn’t answer. He simply continued to jack himself off while glancing at his own reflection in the mirror and talking to himself about how fucking huge and sexy he was and that he’d never go back in a million years.

It wasn’t long before Martin’s fat cock started to leak precum and, just like all the sweat so far, Chris was forced to drink it up and taste his former body’s pre. He tried to ignore how good it tasted at first but it was impossible. It was even better than all the sweat he’d been guzzling so far. So sweet but salty at the same time, yet so so addictive. He wanted more. No he needed more! It wasn’t long before he was begging for more precum to spread inside even more so than getting more sweat.

“Yeah you want it? You want my cum? Well I can give you a whole fucking load if you want!” Martin promised, continuing to jerk with vigour.

“Yes! Yes please give it to me! I need it so badly! I need to taste it!” Chris begged in a frenzy. God if only his former self could’ve seen him now. Trapped as a pair of briefs and begging to be cum inside. “Please just blow your load in me!”

That was it. Martin he had him at last. He kept pumping for a few more minutes and letting Chris soak up as much precum as possible before finally answering again. “Alright I’ll give it to you. But only on one condition. Give me those fucking memories!!” He demanded.

Chris was silent for moment. It was clear that he was battling against himself right now. He wanted so badly to say no but he just as badly wanted to have that load. It was tearing him apart! So much so that he ended up shouting out an answer on impulse. “Yes! Fine! Take them! Have my memories! I don’t care just blow your looooaaaaadddddd…” Chris trailed off as suddenly the very memories he’d just given up started getting sucked out right out of his mind in one of the most pleasurable sensations he’d every experienced.

“Holy fuuuuuuucckkkk!!!” Martin bellowed out as an entire life began pouring itself inside his head. Core memory after memory showing up in his mind one after the other as if he actually experienced them. All of Chris Bumstead adventures, experiences, ideas and skills swiftly becoming his. An entire identity all being transferring in one go, instantly skyrocketing to the number one most bizarre thing Martin had ever felt and probably ever will feel. Quite literally having a life flash before his eyes.

Before he knew it the sheer intensity of the transfer caused Martin to bust one of the biggest loads of his life, soaking the underwear even more so than it already was with his thick virile seed. Some managed to push through the fabric and drip onto the bed sheets but most of it was absorbed rather quickly for… obvious reasons.

“Yessssss… cummmm! I love cum! Cum and sweat! Soooo delicious…” The original Chris mumbled mindlessly. With all his memories drained he hardly even knew who he was anymore. Now he was nothing more than a piece of horny sentient fabric with a one track mind.

Gently Martin slipped off the underwear, dropping it on the floor in a messy pile so he didn’t have to hear those horny moans any longer. Instead he took a step towards the mirror and looked at his reflection again. Before he’d always felt like an outsider. And Imposter parading around in someone else’s skin. But now? He was the real deal. That man staring back at him in the mirror. It wasn’t some other dude who’s body he’d stolen. It was him! He was Chris Bumstead now! And nothing was every going to change that!

“And I’ll be a better version of Chris than you ever were.” He muttered, looking back at the discarded cum filled underwear on the floor before turning back to the mirror and kissing his reflection. God he fucking loved himself. And he was gonna love his new life even more!

With that the new Chris made his was to the bathroom so he could wash up and get all this strong manly stench washed away for the time being. After all he was planning on meeting a guy tonight and he wanted to make a good first impression. It was time to reveal to the world the new and improved, very gay Chris Bumstead.

Epilogue coming soon…

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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 months

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Dave Maass and Patrick Lay’s “Death Strikes: The Emperor of Atlantis”

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

"The Emperor of Atlantis," is an opera written by two Nazi concentration camp inmates, the librettist Peter Kien and the composer Viktor Ullmann, while they were interned in Terezin, a show-camp in Czechoslovakia that housed numerous Jewish artists, who were encouraged to make and display their work as a way of proving to the rest of the world that Nazi camps were humane places.

Of course, it was all a sham. Like nearly all of Terezin's inmates, Kein and Ullmann were eventually shipped to Auschwitz to be murdered. "The Emperor" was never performed during their life, but the manuscript, written on scrounged paper (including the backs of other inmates Auschwitz transfer papers) survived.

In the decades since, "The Emperor" has been mounted a few times, with varying degrees of faithfulness. But those live performances were limited to the people who could attend them during their limited run. Now, a new graphic novel called Death Strikes: The Emperor of Atlantis, brings the work to us all:

https://www.darkhorse.com/Blog/3726/berger-books-and-dark-horse-comics-present-death-s

Death Strikes was adapted by my EFF colleague Dave Maass, an investigator and muckraker and brilliant writer, who teamed up with illustrator Patrick Lay and character designer Ezra Rose (who worked from the Kein and Ullmann's original designs, which survived along with the score and libretto).

The tale is set in the mythical kingdom of Atlantis, where the reclusive emperor has been holed up in an armored tower for decades, directing a forever war, greeting each battlefield report with fresh orders, all the while carefully scheming to maintain his grip on power by prolonging the war footing among his people.

But the Emperor has a problem: he's won the war. Every enemy has fallen. Without endless war, his system of social control will shrivel and he will be vulnerable to his people. So the Emperor declares a new war of all against all, announcing that it is every citizen's duty to make war on their neighbors. Problem solved!

But the Emperor goes too far. In announcing his new war, he directs his messengers – drum-beating automata who march through the streets of Atlantic rapping out his edicts – to claim that Death himself has blessed this new war, and "when the final drum sounds, our old friend DEATH, our flag-bearer, will raise his sword in salute to our great future!"

For Death – a swordbearing skeleton in a soldier's greatcoat and shako – this is too much. The Emperor's endless wars have already tried Death's patience. Death brings mercy, not vengeance, and the endless killing has dismayed him. The Emperor's co-option drives him past the brink, and Death declares a strike, breaking his sword and announcing that henceforth, no one will die.

Needless to say, this puts a crimp in the Emperor's all-out war plan. People get shot and stabbed and drowned and poisoned, but they don't die. They just hang around, embarrassingly alive (there's a great comic subplot of the inability of the Emperor's executioners to kill a captured assassin).

The Emperor will not be denied. He embarks upon a war of wills with Death, to see who will give in first. The surreal tale plays out among the people of Atlantis, the living and the undead, as they struggle to fight a war where no one can die. The tale cuts between these people, the Emperor, and Death, who is in company with Life, a sad harlequin who is even more demoralized than Death by the Emperor's long war.

What follows is a tale of revolution and love and hope snatched from despair.

Maass discovered "The Emperor" through a bargain bin CD of "degenerate music" he found in a suburban Best Buy in the 1990s, which was accompanied by illustrations by Art Spiegelman:

https://www.allmusic.com/album/the-music-survives%21-degenerate-music-music-suppressed-by-the-third-reich-mw0000711660

Maass found a six-panel cartoon Kein drew "expressing his frustration with the evolution of his libretto." Over the years, Maass turned this little strip over and over in his head, until he found himself travelling to Prague with Lay, where they were able to handle the surviving manuscript pages. After consulting with experts all over the world, Maass and Lay and their collaborators created this extraordinary graphic novel, updating it, queering it, and lavishly illustrating it.

While this is clearly an adaptation, Kein and Ullmann's spirit of creativity, courage, and bittersweet creative foment shines through. It's a beautiful book, snatched from death itself.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/23/peter-kien-viktor-ullmann/#terezín

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popculturebuffet · 5 months

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Uncle Scrooge: The Secret Santa Spell Review (comission by WeirdKev27)

Happy Holidays all you Happy People. It's that time of year again, time to haul out the holly and the breadcrumbs because we're talking about ducks again. Yes while I haven't talked about ducks nearly enough on this blog as of late, finding a Ducktale for christmas has always been a priority.

This year though Kev took the reigns on this one after realizing this was a tradition, and found me TWO. We were originally going to do the darkwing duck christmas special, something I didn't know existed and still know little about on purpose and still plan to next year.. but then... he found this. See back in 2021 I reviewed the Carl Barks comic a letter to santa. You can find the review here.

But the main takeaway is it features THIS iconic scene

Look saying i'm a simple man would be a boldfaced lie, but sometimes it's the simple things like an absurdly rich duck and his nephew fighting to the death with heavy machinery so one of them can give their nephew's the remaining machine as a christmas present that bring me joy on this holiday season.

That said after years of basking in the warm glow of having randomly found a comic about Scrooge and Donald battling to the death with steam shovels, I found something just as holly jolly.. and just as gloriously, wonderfully nuts. My friends it's time I introduced you to the Secret Santa spell.

Again Kev, my producer of sorts, deserves the credit here: he found this in Disney Christmas Parade, IDW's christmas anthology they printed every year for a while, and god bless him for it as this story is gold. It's a genuinely good, well done Magica story that thanks to taking place on christmas and involving a claus somehow less thought out than the one where if you kill Santa you become Santa, figgy pudding, a murder tree, and a volcano finale, is also completely bonkers and I love every second of it. This is a geninely fantastic scrooge story and one worth taking a look for yourself if you can find it online since it's out of print. For those of you who can't or simply don't wanna, come with me under the cut as we explore the hap happiest christmas since bing crosby tap danced with danny fucking kaye while Donald and Scrooge tried to pummel each other with steam shovels.

This story comes to us from writers Fransico Artibani, Lello Arena and artest Silvio Cambolli. I hadn't heard of any of these people before this as i'm not really up on my itallian duck comics but they do an excellent job here and I certainly will be looking out for more of their stories.

For this story we open at the bin a few days before christmas as everything's winding down for the holiday and Donald's doing one of his last bits of slave labor for Scrooge when two Scottish obviously suspcious carollers show up. Scrooge apparently gets so many that both are and aren't villians in disguise he's worked up a bit of an extreme solution.. granted he wanted to just pour oil on them but then legal got involved.

So he has to go with the Virtuetron 3000, an elaborate setup he had gyro work up that puts MIND READING HELMETS

Yup i'ts magica.. I mean I can't blame Scrooge for being suspcious, turning her shadow into a teenager to sneak into the mansion only for said teenager to fall in love with scrooge's daughter, this ain't, but i'm less concered with Magica and Co's half baked scheme and more concered a man who underpays his employees, quite literally owns the town, and already has a fairly sketchy moral compass has MIND CONTROL technology.. and giant killer robots

You'd think this would be an out of character expendature... but he got it from a reliable presidental source

Scrooge did all this so he could have a restful christmas. Magica.. isn't having the same as she has some uninvited guests.

Okay so some introductions are in order as i'm sure some of you had the same reaction I did

Thankfully Inducks also indexed who they are. Starting with the one I DID recognize, the little tyke is Magica's niece Minima, the basis for Lena and Magica's exact oppisite: kind, selfless, cheery. The only thing she isn't inverted on is magical talent, as Minima has a knack for it.

The two strangers are Rosolio and Gramma DeSpell. Yes GRAMMA, that's magica's grandma. What's intresting is there's two distinct versions of the character that don't really contradict each other, with this one in the 90's becoming a bigger fixture, and there being nothing to say this isn't the same character given a Sabrina the Teenage Witch style makeover, just a few years BEFORE Zelda and Hilda's got there's in fact. Go figure. She's a bit of a hippie and tries to talk down Magica from her schemes.

Her sidekick here, and sexual harasser, is Rosolio, a mildly inepet magician who followed her from italy to hit on her.

So Magica's about ready to just abandon her magic shop and go.. fuck off or whatever when Minima innocently brings up something...

Yes folks, this is indeed our premise: Santa put in a clause in his magic that's somehow weirder than "If tim allen shoves you off a room tim allen become santa claus" or "If tim allen dosen't find a wife in time he ceases to be santa claus" or.. let's just say anything tim allen adjacent. If you wish for something seven times and happen to be some sort of spellcaster, you get it, regardless of morality, intent or what it actually is. Which DOES mean good news for one little boy man robot

But still raises a LOT of questions. It's not a bad concept, that asking for something enough means santa will take pity but why isn't their restraints? Why has Magica, someone Santa would objectively not liked asked 7 times? why have we only heard about a magic version of the junior woodchuck guidebook this once? why didn't we get a fourth season of ducktales so Frank could adapt this? These are the things that keep me up at night. This is also a thing that keeps me up at night.

Donald just admit you need glasses instead of taking it out on your children, for all our sakes!

So Magica goes to the north poll to deliver letter 7 personally while Gramma.. only stops Rogoilo from going with her then hopes she'll be okay.

Magicia isn't as an elf being pulled by a sleigh full of pengys and getting there late notices her. Honestly we wouldn't have this plot at all if the best boy pengy wasn't busy.

Magica is frozen solid and is revived by 30 cc's of hot chocolate. I don't know if Tom Hanks sang to her, he was also busy that christmas

Magcia repays this kindness by busting up the north poll, going on a rampage to find Santa since the elves handle letters. Keep in mind this ENTIRE act of the story, her getting frozen, her going on a rampage, her bringing an evil dead tree to life before fighting an army of teddy bears and snowman

YUP. You didn't think the insanity stopped at mind policing, killer robots, santa clauses and improperly placed penguins did you? Nope we get a full on offscreen lord of the rings battle complete with ents simply because Magicia wants to gloat in person. And despite this section being padding.. it works. of COURSE magicia would want to gloat to santa, of COURSE she coudln't wait for Christmas day. It's totlaly in character and her singing oh christmas tree or spitting out hot chocolate are just.. such nice character touches. Of course she's so dedicated to being evil she hates something sweet. OF COURSE.

It's something neat about this comic: i'ts bonkers, no question.. but it's also simply fantastic on it's own merit. The idea of Magica getting a santa wish is neat on it's own, but the story then uses Minima to anchor it: she's frustrated it seems her aunt will never be happy and always obess over the dime, and thus teleports to the bin to take it from her, not understanding WHY it's precious to scrooge or WHY her aunt wants it, simply wanting to make her aunt happy. No one even knows; the thought police helmet's don't scan ill intent.. because there isn't none. It's just an innocent child wanting to bring her Aunt christmas. This version of Minima reminds me a LOT of 87 webby, and it's in the best way: innocent , kind, selfless.. all the good things.

Anyways Santa finally goes to confront magica, wondering why she's doing this the answers no.. and forgetting his own stupid policy until it's too late, with her asking for the dime and him entering a trance to go get it.

It's christmas eve and Scrooge is bored as nothing's going on. Disturbingly he wants to know how litigatoins are going. Those orphans aren't going to be forced out into the snow themsleves, ghosts of past buisness partners be dammned!

Scrooge is interuptted from taling to Mrs. Quackfaster byt he arrival of santa. Thinking it's magica in a disguise , he sicks a robot guard dog on her he turns into a sheep.

But then we get the crowner, the weirdest, best, and most wonderful thing in this story.. I present...

I"ll level with you all, while holiday shopping was easy this year, i've still been dealing with a lot of seasonal depression and regular ole depression. It's been a long month with loved ones in the hosptial (nothing serious but also nothing you need to know about in full), work piling up and me not even taking the time to enjoy some of my gifts. I've had plenty of kind people, thoughtful gifts, and wonderful friends but sometimes the stress of this job, as much as I love it, and the world can get to you. So getting to just relax and review a comic where Santa turns Scrooge's bin into a giant figgy pudding while under hypnosis.. it helps> it warms the spirit and reminds me why I do this. For the joy of good stories.. and for the wonder of nonsense.

For those who like me wondered what Figgy Pudding actually even is, wonmder no more: it's a traditional british pudding made out of animal fat. You no doubt have more questions but we have more story

So Santa snaps out of it once he gives Magica the time and she teleports out. Scrooge asks santa to go get it.. but despite you know having TURNED SCROOGE'S BIN INTO PUDDING and stolen his prized possesion, he's .. less than helpful.

I just.. dude... man.. santa dude man claus... Christmas is important. It brigns joy to children and it's why youd o this. I get that. But how does "I need to return the dime I stole while BRAINWASHED due to a stupid bit of magic I never bothered to undo or work up a backup plan for", equate to "greed begats greed'.

For starters the Dime.. isn't just a dime.. and you should know this. Your santa. You know everything about a person, it's your deal. This dime was the first bit of honest money Scrooge ever earned, a reminder of what he started, something he dearly loves and treasures not because it's MONEY but because of what it means. And even not knowing that Scrooge didn't start any of this shit. Scrooge has to constantly ward off Magicia's crap, something you DO for a fact know as you rejected her wish till your dumbass magic kicked in. She's not trying to steal his hoarded gross amount of money, she's trying to take the dime and she's trying to do it for an evil plan. YOU KNOW BETTER SANTA.

Granted this could be a christmastime grift as Santa gets Scrooge to promise a big dinner and bonuses for everyone in duckburg, so he could've simply been fleecing scooge.. and I prefer that interprtation as it fits santa better: Santa would WANT to make up for what he did with magica and WANT to stop her because Santa is a kind, caring person. And even if she hadn't used the santa spell against him, she still attacked his elves out of spite. I prefer to think he would've helped anyway but knew Scrooge deserved to be taught a lesson which, fair play to the big guy.. Scrooge ABSOLUTELY did.

So they go to stop him while Magica goes to show off her dime.. and minima realizes Magica didn't open her present and thus dosen'jt know and is about to make an oopsie.

So Scrooge and Santa go to stop her, but can't... luckily thanks to Minima giving Scrooge a chocolate coin instead of giving her the midas touch, the spell gives her...

It's an excellent brick joke on Magicia hating chocolate, and a great visual. it temproarily makes her the sweetst duck in the world.. which leads to some shipping bait

But a genuinely sweet ending for Minima who, if for one moment and only thanks to magic.. gets to enjoy her aunt. I mean Magica becoming sweet thanks to choclate magic is KINDA Messed up.. but it's hard to not enjoy a child who simply wanted her aunt to be happy.. getting that for one breif moment.

I still feel bad for her as this won't lass, Magicia will be back to her abuse hateful self.. but I can't begrudge a kind, innocent little witch her happy ending. I just don't have it in me. It's not forever, Magicia gets herself back.. but for one day.. she'll treat her family how they deserve. And Rogilo how he really dosen't but you can't have everything now can you?

So because we can't just end on the sweet moment, Santa assures Scrooge the figgy pudding bin will turn back after christmas.. but until then.. he has a promise to fufill.

Every christmas story should end with the whole town eating a rich man's property. Hell EVERY christmas should. Eat the rich's buildings kids!

This story is excellent. Really werid? yes. Having a pretty bonkers ending for no reason? Yes. Is said ending hilarious, the throughline of Minima heartfelt, and the zanier stuff also really funny? Entirely. It's a well done Scrooge story set around christmas with santa's indgiance at helping scrooge being the only thing I really don't like. Had he phrased it less as "you brought this on yourself" and more "you don't deserve it after how you've treated your employees" it'd make more sense. Still one little bump dosen't ruin the figgy pudding.. I think. I don't know how figgy pudding works. I do like this story though and highly recommend it. Thanks for reading.

#scrooge mcduck #disney #donald duck #magica de spell #minima de spell #granny de spell #rogillo #comics #idw #ducktales #christmas

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themalhambird · 6 months

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I've started my first rewatch of bodies because I have a fortnight's worth of laundry to fold and I don't wanna, so here are some observations on Episode One:

Observations about Episode One.

-Oh crap, the timey-wimey shit happens in the daytime, doesn’t it, I might have to amend my fics a bit :p

-Hillinghead seems to divide opinion between the constables. PC Byrne seems to look up to him, chatting about growing up in Whitechapel. Officer Webb (who goes on to smack Henry around) has a very displeased “Inspector,” when Hillinghead shows up- given what happens about five minutes later, I suspect Hillinghead’s got a reputation amongst some of the force for being both uptight and a soft touch, seeing as how he not only won’t let Webb beat up the poncy journalist, but also sends him home and docks a day pay.

-On a similar vein, though, the male sex workers aren’t running for cover when the police are showing up. One of them is even eyeing him up. And Ashe hands over those photographs remarkably quickly, all things considered– he could easily have said he burnt them, rather than binned them, and going for a snog is a really bold move. Considering this is clearly all around Hillinghead’s beat, I suspect that: 1) Hillinghead has previously instructed the men not to waste time harassing sex workers in the rookeries, 2) The local queers probably clocked Hillinghead *ages* ago.

-Hasan’s relationship with her dad is quietly awesome. He clearly has concerns about her work, but there’s no big blow up about missing his birthday party, only joy to see her. Similarly, he slips so seamlessly into taking over cake making with Jawad when Hasan gets a work-related call. I <3 Ishmael

-Whiteman’s instinct’s are all detective. The sensible thing to do is just get the body in the boot and drive, but Whiteman takes his time- he’s trying to figure out what the hell the deal is . And (once his lighter’s retrieved) he seems pleased about being able to open the boot and show Calloway, and thereby get to investigate around a bit.

-speaking of Calloway. Consummate Dad Vibes. I love him.

-Ashe refers to the Police Commissioner's (married) son as they- “They are my alibi” and frankly I am here for non-binary Victorian person. But I also think that being the Police Commissioner's son is part of the answer to Hillinghead’s “Why risk a photo” question. When anyone who is likely to go after you for it works for your dad, on whom the whole situation would reflect badly, it becomes a little less risky to do the thing. It’s a level of protection that neither Hillinghead, nor Ashe independent of any activities with the commissioner’s son, are afforded.

-knowing who already knows what the hell is going on makes this the same level of entertaining, but in a very different way. Also, the “you’re dead already, and that’s all the warning I dare give” hits hard… I think, perhaps, until that point, the medical examiner had hoped that this was some other random body in Longharvest Lane, and that he wasn’t on the countdown to killing his co-worker/friend

-Maplewood thanking the AI in the car for asking if she’s okay. That’s adorable and I love her.

-The Composer is drawing on Murray Gold’s doctor who stuff so heavily. This is good because I like Murray Gold but also it’s just funny

#bodies netflix #rewatch #episode 1 thoughts

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daceydeath · 1 year

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Hierarchy (Part 5)

Heirachy: a system, especially in a society or organization, in which people are organized into different levels of importance from highest to lowest.

Pairing: Mafia Changbin x Reader, Mafia Felix x Reader Word Count: 7.1k Genre: Mafia au, friends to lovers, slow burn romance Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, swearing, blood, kidnap, torture (slightly graphic), murder, criminal activity, drinking, terrible hacking terminology,

You have always been utterly uninteresting, safely boring as close . You had a normal job, normal friends and the sweetest bestie on the planet but now everything is upside down and that best friend of yours is far more dangerous than you could have ever imagined.

Changbin mulled over your words for the rest of that night after you left his room and didn't return until you were so tired you could barely keep your eyes open, you had showered and changed before sleepily grinning at him as he watched you crawl into his bed and fall asleep almost instantly. You had been so adamant with him, you had tried your hardest not to flinch when Han had fucking wandered in covered in blood and you had held your ground against Chan even though Chan wasn't going to force you to co-operate anyway. You had proven that you were trustworthy to him, and to Felix, and hopefully the others saw you as more than just a girl he wanted to fuck. Knowing that Seungmin and Jeongin would have been back from Jihoon's place and yours he quietly got up and left you sleeping to see what had been uncovered.

The guys were all lounging around in their meeting room, Chan had his headphones in, Felix was taking on Han in some video game while Lee Know gave ridiculous commentary, Hyunjin was sketching Chan as he relaxed. The only ones actually working were the youngest two who both had their noses stuck in your journals.

"Anything good" he hummed sitting down opposite Chan.

"Yes actually she is very thorough with what she notes" Seungmin smiled nodding his head "You taught her well".

"I didn't teach her that" he chuckled leaning his head on the back of the couch to look at the ceiling.

"Really? because all the other stuff she does like the crowded places, changing routes, steering clear of people seems like stuff you would have taught her" Jeongin cocked his head at him looking slightly confused.

"Well I taught her that and other stuff but the journal that's all Felix" he explained still looking at nothing.

"Where is she anyway?" Han asked over Felix's winning celebrations

"Asleep"

"Wear her out huh?" Lee Know teased "Have to admit she is hot when she plays tough" chuckling as Changbin rolled his head in his direction to glare. "I wasn't expecting her to not scream and run out of here after she overheard Han and then saw him covered in blood" he continued.

"Yeah she's brave for a regular chick" Han grinned waggling his eyebrows "If you aren't going to make this official with her maybe Felix or I should just to keep her around" his smirk making him look particularly punch-able to Changbin in that moment even though he knew he was doing it to get a rise out of him.

"You can all fuck off" he groaned looking back to the two youngest for them to continue.

"I didn't realize she was having such trouble with her boss at work though" Jeongin frowned "She's been putting up with a lot we should do something about him after this is done" he mused as his frown deepened.

"What?" Changbin sat upright again quickly staring at Jeongin expectantly.

"It's not a big deal Bin" Felix interjected "I have already sorted it" grinning toothily hoping the lie would keep everything calm turning his eyes to Jeongin to silently tell him to not mention it again.

"Good, if it's not me it has to be you who looks out for her" Changbin nodded sighing.

"Have you found anything else?" Chan asked suddenly none of them really noticing he had been listening in.

"The security guard she mentions has only ever been a problem to the interns he's never hurt her but she can be very protective it turns out" Seungmin began chewing him lip as kept reading.

"Yes she can be" Chan laughed causing Seungmin and Jeongin to look at him strangely "another time boys, anything else about the security guard?"

"No but I have found a few different 'clients' she mentions that she is suspect of she gives the dates for that she describes as 'non-business' looking" Jeongin looked up to Felix who was already booting up his computer.

"I can probably get in and find the footage if you give me the dates and if she has the time too. I told her date and time when something is off" Felix snickered at the look Jeongin threw him "What you think Bin is the only one who wants her safe?"

"She last wrote about him a month ago 4.17pm on the 15th" Jeongin read out loud "She wrote tall, well built, dark hair, sharp features, wearing clothes that were too fashion not business"

"Oh she means like not the standard suit and tie, probably tailored or high end" Felix explained as he continued typing frowning slightly "They have some tight security, this might take a while"

"I've got an entry about her seeing the same guy lingering around the lobby for a few days too, she wrote one of the receptionists said he asked for her by name and said he was her boyfriend but she told her she didn't have one so they never let him in" Seungmin added watching Changbin's face darken instantly.

"I'll be back in a second" Felix snapped bolting from the room suddenly.

"How often are her entries about him?" Changbin asked clearly annoyed you had never mentioned this to him.

"The guy she thought looked suspect for a client she has written about a few times. His file name is Mr A which gives nothing away but some of the other stuff is just stuff she notices that she later writes was nothing" Jeongin answered handing over the one he was reading to Changbin.

"I've already dealt with the lobby guy so chill man" Felix announced as he came back into the room holding another lap top in one hand and your hand in the other as he led your sleepy figure over to the couch, he opened the lap top and booted in up as you sank into the cushions an leaned against Binnie, rubbing you eyes.

"What did you need Lix" you yawned blinking slowly as your phone began to vibrate in your pocket which you ignored for the moment.

"Aww cute" Hyunjin cooed picking up his pencil again.

"I need you to log into your office remotely so that I can piggyback my way in from your access to your network" He explained basically to you like he would a child.

"It's 2am Lix... actually, I don't care, whatever" you sighed logging into your office remotely.

"Would you mind finding any files to do with the Mr A you have written about?" Jeongin asked gently you turned to look at him like you were struggling to focus "If it's too hard that's fine it can wait"

"No I can do that for you Jeongin" you smiled "Bin can you get me a drink please?" you pouted at him unashamedly as you tried to focus on your screen making him smile and get up to make you some tea.

"Whipped" Chan muttered not even trying to hide his comment.

"You wish you were big guy" You sarcastically replied not even looking up from your screen making Hyunjin and Han snickered at your comeback.

"Oh you are even better when you are tired" Lee Know chuckled his eyes shining with amusement.

"Oh it's not that I'm tired I'm just getting used to you all" you smirked your face lit up by your screen as you pulled the files for them to see "Here Jeongin, these are the ones I can access" you slipped the lap top towards him as a cup of tea appeared on the table in front of you. You took it between your hands enjoying the warmth as Changbin sat back down, his fingers automatically moving to stoke your back making you almost purr as you sipped the tea before you curled yourself up and cuddled into his side, his arm wrapping around you to keep you in place. Again your phone began to vibrate but this time you fished it out of your sweatpants so it wouldn't disturb Changbin, he looked at it quizzically but you just put it on the table in front of you.

You sat happily in Changbin's warmth still thinking about what Felix had said as well as all the comments the others made every time the two of you were together completely zoning out on the guys around you. You had fantasized about him many times before, it was hard not to he was too attractive for his own good, but you had only thought a couple of times that perhaps one day he might develop an interest in you. He always dated women who seemed so different to you, glamorous and high class, you were neither of those things but you also didn't want to be. You were pulled out of your head by the sound of your phone vibrating again, whoever was calling you this late was persistent, picking up your phone you switched it to silent watching a fourth call begin.

"What's wrong bubs?" Felix's voice broke your attention away from your phone his brows furrowed as he looked at you.

"Nothing" you shook your head while covering your face as another yawn hit you. "tired"

"C'mon I take you back upstairs" Changbin smiled rolling his eyes at you.

"Can't have to go into a bunch of other files before I log out or it will look suspicious" you muttered as you stretched reaching for the rest of your tea, to sip as you worked.

"You realize that it takes us so much longer to train our guys and they are not as thorough as you" Seungmin noted making you look at him confused. "Bin and Lix have managed to get you to follow so many different strategies to keep you safe and unnoticeable and you do them all as if they are routine" he elaborated further smiling smugly at how easy it was for you to adapt to a less savory way of life without even noticing.

"I never thought of it like that. I just assumed that Changbin was over protective since he always was even as a little boy he was protecting me and Felix just did the same" you shrugged.

"You really would be alright in this life if that is what you wanted" Chan spoke cautiously and gently seemingly happy with the idea of you sticking around.

"How about all decisions about my future are left for when I'm not going to be kidnapped and murdered" you groaned feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

"You probably weren't going to be murdered" Han added "just kidnapped" he looked pleased with himself like somehow that was comforting to you.

"Yeah that's not a good thing man" Lee Know laughed shaking his head as you stared at him looking concerned and not comforted.

Jeongin slid the laptop back across the table to you and you started typing, moving files and reading and sending off basic email responses to look like you were just working at a random time. After another 20 minutes of you going back and forth and adding notes you looked over to Felix.

"Can I log out now or do you still need it open?" you asked having no real idea what Felix was even doing.

"Just leave it open like you left yourself logged in I'll need it if I need to do anything else" he grinned at you, you nodded slowly waving goodbye as Changbin led you back out of the room.

"She cannot actually be as oblivious as she seems, it's her ignoring it right?" Hyunjin asked as he finished up his sketch.

"No she is" Felix giggled "I pretty much told her what was going on as she is still stewing over it".

"What do you mean pretty much?" Chan raised his eyebrows at the younger one.

"Bin told her he has so many 'girlfriends' because he cant trust them but he trusts her, I really thought it would have clicked by now though, she isn't stupid" Felix was still flicking through the footage from the CCTV as he spoke.

"I reckon you should just hook up with her Lix, make him do something about it" Han sniggered knowingly.

"I think he wants to live mate" Chan laughed watching Felix scowl at the screen for a moment.

"Fuck it's Ateez" he muttered "Mr A is fucking Mingi from fucking Ateez"

"What?" Chan barked to mood shifting drastically in the room.

"How did we miss that fucking connection" Felix snapped more at himself than anyone else.

"What connection?" Jeongin ground out.

"Fuck Bin is going to lose it" Hyunjin groaned as they watched Felix's fingers fly across the keyboard in a tense silence.

"I have nothing on Mingi, he has been very quiet for the last few months" Seungmin added flicking through the files on his phone.

"There the same family, Fuck! Han you are definitely going to have to work over the kid" Felix snapped angrily looking to Han his face hard.

"On it" Han grinned happily getting up to leave "You coming Hyunjin he needs to know you know he lied" the manic glinting of his eye making Felix feel better about not getting the information sooner.

"How are they family Felix?" Chan demanded.

"the Kim family has two sons, one who's adopted, and a daughter. The daughter is Mingi's mother that would be why Jiho's father hasn't gotten killed over the debt yet at least that's how I assume it's all rolling"

"How did that get past the three of you" Chan growled looking between Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin.

Changbin had barely even gotten to you back to his room when Han was yelling up the stairs he was needed, you had smiled at him and gone back to bed telling him to not work too late. Stomping back down the stairs he just raised his eyebrows to Han.

"It's the Ateez crew" Han shrugged as they made their way down to the vault "The kid, Jiho, is related to Mingi and he's the client that your girl has been suss on".

"I knew this was bigger than we thought, I fucking knew it" he furious now the few days that they had been trying to make headway and there best lead was right under their noses. Changbin knew he was going to end these fuckers as soon as could.

"Well once we get the last of the information out of this kid you can do what you like Hyun and I agree you get to end any of them however you want big guy" Han winked leaving him at the observation room door.

The room had been cleaned since the last chat the boys had with Jihoon, but Han's tools were still laid out for him. Jihno sat almost sobbing as Hyunjin leered at him from the door way.

"Now Jiho, I told you that things would be very unpleasant if you lied to me and now I have come to learn that you have" Hyunjin smiled sinisterly "Tell me everything about your cousin Mingi or I will let my friend in to make you tell us".

"Mingi is my cousin" Jiho wept openly "He runs with a crew on the outside of the SKZ territory, they aren't very big, They run gambling and whorehouses"

"What is the name of the crew Jiho?" Hyunjin purred lazily walking towards the frightened teen.

"I don't know" Jiho stuttered pathetically.

"Wrong answer kid" Hyunjin tutted walking to the door and opening it to reveal Han looking particularly maniacal "Han, he's all yours".

Han didn't speak instead he just grabbed the first tool from his collection, a claw headed hammer, and waltzed towards Jiho not making a sound until he swung his arm back and smashed the hammer full force into Jiho's forearm breaking it with a sickening snap. Even though Changbin had seen plenty of violence the ease at which Han worked people over was sometimes too much even for him, but in this case he was hoping Han inflicted as much damage as possible.

"What crew is your cousin in?" Hyunjin demanded with far more malice than before.

"I don't know"Jiho wailed as he arm started swelling due to the damaged "I think it's Ateez but he never talks about it".

"So your cousin is in the Ateez crew and you didn't think to mention this before? What else haven't you said?" Han screamed into the kids face watching him try to get away from his despite his arm and being strapped to a chair.

"He's my aunt's son, my uncle part owns a publishing firm, the girl works there, that is how we knew she had a boyfriend named Changbin he sends her flowers" Jiho was panting and looking like he was going to be sick but Han just continued with out pause.

"Who gave the names to your cousin Jiho?" Han spat "Know I will start cutting your fucking fingers off if you lie" already reaching for the bolt cutters.

"The security guy that works on her floor my uncle pays him to get information for him" Jiho's voice was getting weaker and Changbin could tell he was getting closer to a full on breakdown.

"Enough for now, we will get some more out of him later, we still have another guest to entertain" Hyunjin rolled his eyes picking up a syringe and walking over to Jiho "We don't want him broken just yet" Taking Jiho's uninjured arm in his the easily located a vein and stuck him with a needle.

"Your no fun you know that" Han pouted as the morphine dose began to take effect on Jiho.

Changbin had been fairly motionless as he watched everything play out in front of him Chan standing beside him deep in thought, probably about how this would all play out in the end or how much risk they would need to take to eliminate the threat to their empire entirely.

"Hyunjin is getting the other fucker we will play tag with them for a while" Han yawned more from boredom than exhaustion.

"I vote you should kill both of them after we get what we need" he smiled looking to Han who was nodding in agreement.

"Hyunjin suggested the same thing and Felix will agree so it would be the majority without a vote anyway" Chan mused watching Hyunjin drag Jihoon into the room. Han nodded again grinning like a lunatic again as he skipped back into the room to fuck up Jihoon once again.

"You never mentioned Ateez Jihoon, that is not going to go well for you" Han teased childishly eyes glinting.

"Ateez paid me but it's not what you think" Jihoon crumbled easily after his first meeting with Han "They paid but it's not them who wants her they just were happy to fuck with you guys, someone else wants the girl for some reason"

"Do you know that reason?" Hyunjin smirked toying with him.

"He will pay off a big debt plus interest if we did the job for him, that was all we know" Jihoon groaned "It was through Mingi he had it all planned before we even started, surveillance and everything"

"So let me get this straight" Han interjected once again holding his scalpel "Mingi hired you and Jiho to kidnap a girl because someone else was paying for it and was paying off a large debt"

"Yes" Jihoon sighed looked resigned to more torture.

"Hmmm....interesting indeed" Hyunjin frowned leaving the room to speak to Chan.

You were not surprised that you were the only one sitting in the kitchen after you woke up alone and got ready for the day, from the lack of sight of any of the guys you had assumed that they must all still be working or sleeping so you made yourself something easy to eat. You sat humming as you scrolled your social media ignoring the mounting missed calls which had appeared during the early hours of the morning, and munched your cereal. Another call interrupted your scrolling making you scowl, Bin had always told you not to answer numbers you didn't know, private numbers and unknown numbers if it was important they would leave a message and you call call them back and save the number. This time the caller left a voice mail it was the first one since the calls had begun so you dialed your answering service and listened the message was just silence so you assumed it was a mistake. Hanging up you went back to your socials your friends had all messaged you about your plans for the weekend and where you had been you told them you were away at a work conference and would catch up with them as soon as you could. You felt bad lying but you didn't know how long it would take for you to go back to your normal life, if you could go back the whole idea that you could make a choice to walk away from two people you loved to go back into an average life was the least appealing idea you had heard.

The sound of multiple footsteps alerted you to the presence of at least two of the others being alive so you moved to get out supplies for making coffee.

"Morning" You called knowing that they would hear you.

"Good morning" Chan greeted you in return and he walked in with Minho and Seungmin who both nodded at you.

"How do you take your coffee?" you smiled watching them take seats at the table.

"You don't need to make us coffee" Seungmin blinked at you.

"I know, how do you have it?" you grinned.

"Latte, no sugar please. Suengmin has black no sugar, Chan doesn't drink coffee" Minho politely answered seemingly grateful for the offer. You quietly made the two coffees and grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge as you passed placing them in front of the correct man.

"Thank you little one" Chan sighed chugging the juice "but please don't feel like you need to wait on us".

"I don't, I'm not sure how I'll ever repay how much you have already done for me but coffee is a start" you sighed softly leaving them to their own devices.

"You know if Bin doesn't get his shit together or Felix doesn't swoop in then I am definitely going to ask her out" Minho smirked

"I reckon you would have some competition there mate" Chan laughed heartily.

Changbin woke up in the afternoon alone and in his room half dressed, which confused him since he was sure he fell asleep in Felix's room so he wouldn't disturb you. Blinking a few times he went to wash up before he went to find you, you must have been up for hours now filling time by yourself, which made him feel slightly guilty. Wandering downstairs he found Felix making something to eat while talking to Jeongin.

"She's in the meeting room with the others" Felix answered the question he hadn't asked yet.

"She's been sitting for Hyunjin for the last few hours" Jeongin added smirking as Changbin left the room to go find you, opening the oak doors he found you sitting on the back of the couch your legs dangling over Minho's shoulder with Hyunjin directly in front of you pencil moving rapidly.

"Princess, can you lean forward a little bit" Hyunjin asked happily.

"Sure it this enough or more?" You asked excitedly.

"That's perfect princess" Hyunjin smiled genuinely his eyes flicking between you and his work.

"So I sleep late and now you're an art model" he chuckled making you pout slightly as he walked around to see how Hyunjin was doing. "These are amazing Hyun" he whistled.

"You only think so because they are of her" Hyunjin muttered lowly so you wouldn't hear him. "You can move now, I'm all done and that might have been the fist time Minho didn't whine the whole time I sketched"

"It is hard to complain with pretty legs hanging over you" Minho snickered as you got shy again stepping from the couch and towards Changbin.

"Hyunjin said he never gets to draw casually posed women so I agreed to help" you shrugged "and Minho is sitting in where Felix was since he was hungry"

"So you graciously offered to be his beautiful model?" he asked smirking at you.

"Well model yes, I don't know about beautiful, but have you seen how talented he is?" you had already moved towards Hyunjin so you missed the look of adoration of Changbin's face but the others hadn't.

"Thank you" Hyunjin preened under your comments "I can show you some of the other pieces I've done, finished paintings and stuff, if you like"

"I would love that" your eyes lit up at the idea of seeing his work. Changbin narrowed his eyes at Hyunjin who playfully winked at him in return enjoying the teasing already.

"It will have to be in a few days Han and I have more work to get done today" he grinned continuing to enjoy your enthusiasm.

"Sure, I mean it's not like I'm going anywhere anytime soon" you quipped sarcastically making his eyes crinkle at there corners and Changbin's, unbeknownst to you, glare at Hyunjin.

Later in the evening Changbin, Han and Felix had piled into the van to make their way to your workplace in hopes of not only finding the security guard that was feeding intel about you to Ateez but also to get Felix access to the security room to install some device that Changbin didn't need to understand except that it would feed a live feed of your office to them without anyone noticing. Felix had dressed the part as a maintenance worker and Hyunjin and he would feed any information Felix needed to him from their newest guest once they had him. Felix had told you to log a request for maintenance on your office server getting Felix access to the building in the least suspicious manner that any of them could think up.

Things had so far been running smoothly Felix had gotten into your office and started "fixing" the server issue while they waited for Jonwoo to make his way out. Right on schedule he appeared looking every bit the creepy guy you had described him as, and it had taken he and Han exactly 23 seconds to get him in the van with a hood over his head and gun to his forehead. Just like the previous two he turned from cocky creep to snot covered crybaby in a matter of moments and he was singing like a bird just as fast.

"You have the office lock for me?" Felix buzzed in his ear.

"Yeah 180325" he relayed easily as he heard Felix begin to hum "anything else?"

"Nah give me ten and I'll be done" Felix chuckled. Sure enough fifteen minutes later he appeared at the van got in and drove away just like any other contractor would leaving no trace of them behind.

"So do you want to sit in on this one with me big guy or do you want to just watch on like always?" Han grinned to him looking excitable.

"Maybe, depends on the boss though" he answered easily enjoying how terrified Jonwoo seemed of them would them really needing to do anything, they were all fucking green which was beyond his understanding to no end why would a serious rival, who had access to their own people, use such idiots for an important job. Chan was waiting for them when they returned looking more serious than he had since they had to get you back to the company that first night.

"The feed is up and running Felix and Ateez has made contact with us" He stated "but... I will leave their request until after you have gotten to know our guest".

"Understood" Felix nodded scampering off to see what the CCTV had picked up so far.

"Sure boss" Han chirped hauling Jonwoo from the van and dragging him towards the vault once out of earshot Chan spoke again.

"Bin whatever he tells us you cannot take out any of them until I have dealt with Hongjoon" Chan was less harsh now that they were alone but still as authoritative as ever.

"I'll be fine man, as long as I can kill whoever the fucker who started this bullshit" he smirked knowing Chan would take him at his word.

"I thought you would say that" Chan smiled crookedly patting him on the shoulder and walking back inside.

Jonwoo had wanted to appear tougher than he was when Hyunjin began asking questions about who paid his for the leaked CCTV but Changbin knew that it was an act they all did, the man was a weak pervert who liked to harass young women in offices not a hard man who could hold out under any sort of pressure.

"Who in your office paid you for access to the CCTV Jonwoo?" Hyunjin asked conversationally his face giving away nothing as he spoke.

"I have no idea what you are taking about kid" Jonwoo scoffed not realizing the danger Hyunjin posed to him.

"I don't think you have many ideas Jonwoo" Hyunjin smirked egging him on to get angry "I think you are a grubby little pervert who likes to bother pretty little office girls"

"How dare you call me a..." Jonwoo started to wind up when Hyunjin flipped his soft handsome act into his dangerous one.

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want, I am the one who decides if you live or die today and currently the syndicate is quite happy for me to put a bullet in you" he purred snarl on his lips as he continued to taunt and then frighten his guest.

"Syn..syndicate?" his eyes grew large as he started to catch on to where he was and who Hyunjin might be.

"The girl you have been selling information about is very dear to the SKZ Syndicate so you must see how fucked you are Jonwoo" Hyunjin again smiled congenially watching as Jonwoo paled substantially.

"I didn't know she belonged to you, I just got information off her desk. The names off the flowers that she gets sometimes, when she arrives and leaves work that's all, I never touched her" Jonwoo blurted quickly "You ask her I never touched her, not once"

"But you don't like her, you want to cause her trouble for interfering with your harassment of the interns" Hyunjin smirked as he watched the piece of shit in front of him squirm.

"She reported me for talking to an intern, little bitch almost cost me my job" he spat forgetting himself for a moment.

"Little bitch? now why would you call my princess that?" Hyunjin glowered at Jonwoo before smiling menacingly "Han? I think our guest would like to meet you properly" The door swung open slowly revealing an unhinged looking Han.

Changbin always chuckled with the dramatics of the pair of them, he was watching on, half paying attention to Hyunjin and half to Felix as he explained all the stuff that he had been able to go over since he now had unfiltered access to their system.

"Chan said the Hongjoon contacted him right?" Felix asked suddenly breaking Changbin's musings.

"Yeah before we got back" he answered looking over at the screen by Felix.

"Well Mingi has popped up again in her office and he doesn't look like a man who is stressed because it's all gone wrong" Felix began replaying the footage of Mingi seeming quite relaxed while his uncle was looking annoyed. "That does not look like a man who is about to be found out".

"No he does not" he agreed.

"Ok, fuck ok" Jonwoon's pleading caught both Changbin and Felix's attention. "Director Kim has been paying me for the information and the CCTV but I don't know what he does with it"

Chan had asked you once again to sit in as they discussed what they had learnt in hopes that you would be able to add information or details, you agreed to anything they asked you were happy to do. Sandwiched between Changbin and Felix you fiddled with your fingers as they all took their places on the couches around you.

"What have you got" Chan asked Han and Hyunjin easily knowing they had probably gotten everything they needed.

"Jiho confirmed that his cousin is Mingi, so that confirms Changbin's theory somewhat" Han explained easily "Jihoon claims that although Mingi paid him for the work he had all the surveillance ready for them and it's not really about SKZ its probably more against Bin since someone else is paying for it all".

"Jonwoo claims to know nothing about the kidnap but did tell me he sold the CCTV and information about movements and anything he could find on her desk" Hyunjin added

"But Jiho knew the Jonwoo got the intel just not how or why" Han chipped looking excited to regale them with how he got the information

"Who is paying?" Chan raised his eyebrows waiting for an answer.

"Jonwoo claims that Director Kim was paying him for the intel but he doesn;t know who he gives it too" Hyunjin interjected before Han could start telling them about what he had done to get the confessions "but Jiho might be useful in making a deal with Ateez, they give us the head of the snake we give Mingi back his cousin" he mused.

"Director Kim, my boss Director Kim?" you whispered feeling nausea crashing down on you. Felix quickly poured you some of his water holding the glass for you to sip.

"You have been having problems with him you said so yourself" Chan sighed sympathetically watching you carefully. Changbin had his arm around you and Felix was doting on you.

"Yeah not that kind of problem" you voice had changed pitched as you felt even more sick "I thought he was being a slimy guy not this"

"Your alright doll, you're here with us" Changbin soothed pulling you tighter against him.

"I know, I'm fine" you muttered blinking a few times before looking back to Chan.

"You're doing really well princess" Hyunjin smiled encouragingly.

Your phone had started vibrating again which was distracting Changbin from the others.

"Who keeps calling you doll? your phone has been going off since last night" he sighed taking your phone from your pocket and looking at the screen.

"I don't know" you admitted as the meeting around you stopped, when the next call began he answered but said nothing putting the phone on speaker, at first is was only breathing but after 20 seconds or so a voice started speaking.

"He can't protect you forever, they will find you my love. You will be mine" the call then ended.

"How many of these calls have you had?" Felix asked his voice far harder than normal, you picked you phone up and opened your missed calls.

"27 since midnight, one left a message that was just silence. I've never answered one before Binnie always told me not to answer if I don't know who it is" you told him your voice starting to shake slightly.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jeongin asked softly hoping that he could seem more reasonable that Changbin who looked livid at this point.

"I figured it was just a prank or something" you shrugged starting to feel quite stupid the way they were all looking at you "there was never a message or I would have told you".

"Fuck me doll, you just don't get it do you? were trying our fucking hardest to keep you safe and your not helping us by hiding things" Binnie's voice was so low that you weren't sure the guys on the other side of the table could hear it.

"I know that, I'm sorry I didn't put it together, please don't be angry with me again" you whimpered tears forming in your lashes.

"Nah uh" Han announced instantly stalking towards you taking your hands and pulling you upright "no tears"

"Come sit over here princess" Hyunjin patted the space next to him as Han steered you forwards using your shoulders.

"No offence Felix but she isn't sitting next to him anymore he just makes her cry all the fucking time" Han sighed glaring at Changbin as he tucked you into his and Hyunjin's sides. Felix just blinked and nodded seemingly agreeing that you should be kept away from Changbin.

"Shall we continue then? Or would you like to go up to bed, little one?" Chan smiled at you softly you smiled and shook your head for Chan to continue. "So Kim is the Director of the company that you work for and also the uncle of a member Ateez... something still isn't adding up though and I don't like it"

"As far as my guys can tell there is no movement of the Ateez crew from their normal routines still dealing with the same associates, same business partners and same crew members so if this is Mingi hes doing it alone". Seungmin reported.

"We also have no new intel on surprising movements, they seem to only be having trouble with the EXO crew everything else is quiet." Jeongin added smiling at you to comfort you.

You excused yourself after that when they started talking about how to track the phone calls and meetings with other crews. Walking up the stairs to Changbin's room you realized that maybe he wouldn't want you there tonight since he was once again frustrated with you. Since this had all started you went from questioning how you felt about him to questioning if he actually felt anything towards you. Felix seemed to think he did and so did some of the others but he would get so annoyed by you it was beginning to feel that you were more his irritating little sister than even a true friend. Making yourself miserable you made your way to Felix's room where you cleaned yourself up and went to bed knowing Felix wouldn't mind too much is you texted him first.

Changbin heard Felix's phone chime with a notification which he sighed at once he read tucking him phone back away ignoring the questioning looks from the others.

"Any news?" Chan teased knowing that look on Felix well it was his annoyed but not going to anything about it look.

"No, just bubs telling me she's staying with me again" Felix answered turning his eyes back to his laptop to begin tracing the phone calls you had been getting.

"Bin have you not thought that maybe just maybe she will get tired of this shit and lose all interest in you?" Hyunjin sighed looking up at the ceiling.

"Or she will realize that Felix is a better option who doesn't make her cry" Jeongin added cautiously.

"Better still she picks one of the rest of us?" Minho grinned obnoxiously firing him up more than he should allow. Changbin didn't say a word, he knew he didn't have a leg to stand on he was getting far too aggressive with you because he couldn't own up to how he felt about you and that had to change. Annoyingly the guys were right he was going to have to tell you how he felt and hope you once again forgave him.

Walking up the stairs he knew what had to be done so swallowing his pride he made his what to Felix's room where you were probably now asleep. Opening the door quietly he instead found you were sitting on the edge of his bed by the time he got into his room, your face a mixture of emotions that stopped him in his tracks. He closed the door and lent against it

"Why is it that we have fought more in a week than we have in the last year Binnie?" you asked sadly your eyes still misty with tears.

"I'm sorry doll it's all my fault not yours" he sighed forcing himself to look you in the eye. "There is something I need to tell you and I have been too chicken shit to do it".

"What Binnie? what could be more horrible or frightening to me than everything that is happening right now?" you couldn't fight the tears now the frustration of the whole situation making you feel like you were being crushed. Changbin took a deep breath and you watched him closely as he seemed to steady himself for what he was about to say.

"Doll, I love you" he whispered.

"I love you too Bin" you replied confused about how bad this secret must be.

"No you don't understand, I love you. I'm in love with you, and I have been for a while" His eyes stayed soft as he took a tentative step towards you. "I only want you, no one else, for the rest of my life".

"Oh" you squeaked your eyes widening as you grasped what he meant.

"I know you probably don't feel the same way about me and that's fine I will never not want to be in your life I will deal with my feelings" he started justifying as you slowly stood up from the bed and stepped towards him so you were only an arms length away from each other.

"Are you sure?" you asked gently feeling more self doubt that you ever thought you would, you thought if he had ever told you he was interested you would have leapt into his arms but now you couldn't help compare yourself to his previous girlfriends.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life doll" he smiled shyly while watching you closely reaching out towards you and taking your hand in his.

"Why have you never told me, why have you hidden it?"

"This life isn't something I ever wanted you to have to live with, its not safe, its not easy and I wanted to keep you safe" he explained his fingers swiping across your knuckles soothingly.

"But I'm already in this life now aren't I?" you muttered smiling at him.

"You are now lets get you off to bed we can talk about this all in the morning" he whispered stepping closer and kissing your forehead.

"Only if I can stay with you tonight" you shyly making him smirk at you.

a/n: Thanks for reading, and comments are criticisms and reblogs are adored xxx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @3sriracha, @deakyspuff, @symptoms-of-moonlight, @yoonguurt, @shownus-bebe, @ateexyz, @oiphoebe, @leanimal90, @armystay89,

#Seo Changbin x Reader #Changbin x Reader #Mafia Changbin #stray kids mafia au #skz mafia au #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #Bang Chan #Lee Know #Hwang Hyunjin #Han Jisung #Lee Felix #Kim Seungmin #Yang Jeongin #hierarchy

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