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charliemwrites · 2 months

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Oooooh I finally did it!! Mafia au part 6! A little bit of that sweet angst/comfort.

Let it be said: Johnny’s no snitch.

Outgoing (“loud” Simon would grumble) as he is, he doesn’t run his mouth about anything important. Doesn’t talk business over a pint or boast his connections in bar disagreements. Doesn’t drop names, flash heat, throw around the weight of his employer. Has never spilled a single fucking secret, not for knives, acid, a fucking gun to his head.

Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.

Let it also be said: Johnny is loyal.

He would happily lay down his life for any of his comrades, lives and dies for SpecGru – for Price. And even though you’re new, you’re one of them now. You’ve quickly found and secured your place in Price’s inner circle, different as you may be. Johnny would go to war for you, and your silly pink sticky notes.

Still, keeping something – anything from the boss. Even a private matter like this…

It happened on SpecGru property, that makes it SpecGru business. And it happened to you, which makes it Price’s business.

That you don’t already know that is… well, that’s between you and the boss. Johnny’s already too involved as it is. (Not that he regrets helping you. Not a bit. If he had his way, that little prick would have left with his teeth in his pocket and a new appreciation for his remaining thumb).

So now Johnny is stuck. He likes you; he really does. That you trust him with something so personal isn’t lost on him, especially in this line of work. He also has a healthy fear of your wrath. (You may not carry any weapons he’s seen, but you’ve got Price grimacing when you narrow your eyes just so. Johnny knows where his cupcakes are made, and he likes them without arsenic, thank you). So, personally, he wants to be able to honor your request to keep the matter private.

But then there’s Price, and whatever he’ll do to Johnny if – when – he finds out about all this.

Johnny’s solution?

“Christ, Gaz, ya shoulda seen it. Never seen the little miss tell someone off like that. Graves woulda been shakin’ in his boots. Will have to ask security for a recording of it.”

Gaz, unimpressed with Johnny’s volume, rolls his eyes and walks away, muttering about tea for his sudden headache. And Price, sitting at his desk, twitches and reaches for his phone.

Mission: accomplished.

Not the most elegant, but he’s a mafia lieutenant, not a fuckin’ spy. Now, to get those pastries you like before Price sees the footage.

“Luv?”

You glance up from the expense reports you’ve been working through for the better part of an hour. Mr. Price is leaning in the doorway to his office, shoulder to the jamb. There’s… an odd look on his face. You’ve never seen it before, don’t have it categorized in your mental files.

“Yes, boss?” you ask, straightening up.

“A word?”

You blink. That’s… different. You don’t like it.

Price is a steady sort of man. Not predictable, but consistent. That this is new, unusual, unfamiliar, makes you uneasy. Reminds you of your last boss, who could call you into his office with an affable grin, only to spend thirty minutes berating you for anything and everything he could think of.

Price has never done that, nothing even close… but you can’t suppress the slight shake in your hands as you smooth your skirt down. Hide it with a little flick of your wrists before grabbing for your ever-trusty tablet. Hell, you probably don’t even need it, but at this point it’s practically a comfort item. Maybe you should name it, put some googly eyes on it.

“Sweetheart?”

You startle a bit. Realize your feet have already carried you into his office and followed him right to his desk. Except instead of standing at his elbow as usual, you’re facing him across his desk. Like you did during your interview with him, when you were still strangers. Like you used to do for your previous boss.

“Oh, sorry, sir,” you chirp, forcing your usual brightness, “those expense reports, ya know? What did you need me for?”

Without a word, he spins his computer monitor around. Your brow furrows as you process the video playing on the screen. You. Soap. Brandon. Your stomach sinks.

There’s no sound, but there doesn’t really need to be. Even in profile, the expressions are crisp – high end cameras. You feel numb as the scene plays out all over again. You and Brandon snipping at each other back and forth. Your rigid spine, stiff shoulders. Brandon’s sleezy confidence. Soap, getting visibly aggravated as the seconds pass.

And there it is, the moment you spun on your heel, done with the conversation, and Brandon reached for you.

When you see Soap’s hand snap out – just a blur on the screen – you have to sit. Muscle memory collects your tablet in your lap, sweaty hands stacking neatly on top of it. Your heart is beating either too fast or too slow.

Your eyes stay locked on the screen until you and Soap disappear into the elevator, and the video stops.

“Should I play the elevator footage as well?” Price asks, voice low and quiet. “That comes with sound.”

It takes all your years of learned discipline and cultivated poise to resist shrinking in on yourself. It does not, however, stop your eyes from burning.

“Sir,” you say, struggling to keep your voice even, “I am so sorry.”

There’s a beat of tense silence as you gather yourself, throat getting tighter and tighter. Your head is spinning with fear and anxiety. What he’ll say, what he’ll do. How you could possibly damage control this.

“I-I don’t even know how he found out where I work,” you say, “and Soap w-was just trying to help. If I’d known that would happen, I would have taken it outside.”

You can barely look at Price as your voice break midway through, the panic leaking into your tone even as you stay frozen in place.

“Did we – is he suing? Is – is that why—?”

The tears escape despite your efforts, dripping fast and down your cheeks as you shudder in a breath. You can’t pay for a lawsuit, especially not if you’re fired over this. And you don’t want to lose this job. You love this job, you love—

“Oh, darling, what a mess you’ve made of yourself.”

You sniffle as Price rounds his desk and kneels in front of you, plucking his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He tuts at you when you open your mouth to protest, already blotting at your cheeks with a surprisingly gentle touch.

“There now, no need to cry,” he soothes, thumbing away another tear before it can fall. “I know it takes you ages to get your eyeliner right. This is nothing to ruin it over.”

“But…”

“I’m not angry, luv,” he continues, voice still low and quiet. This time, it doesn’t make your shoulders tense. “Wasn’t before and definitely not now. Chin up, there’s a dear.”

“Y-you’re not?” you warble.

“Not a bit,” he answers. “Not at you, at least.”

“Then why…?” You gesture weakly at the computer screen.

He sighs, something almost fond passing over his face. “Darling, you could have been hurt. Imagine if Soap hadn’t been there. All of us on the top floor, waiting for you to get back, not knowing something was wrong.”

He shakes his head, cradling your cheek with the same hand that brushed away your tears.

“You’re one of mine, you understand? Anything that happens to you is my responsibility,” he explains. “And I didn’t… enjoy that you want to keep something like this from me.”

You drop your eyes in shame. Of course. An employee assaulted on company ground, his personal assistant no less. Price would never stand for that sort of thing. He looks out for his own, looks out for you.

“Hey, look at me, luv. None of that now,” he coaxes. “I just want to get to the bottom of why you didn’t want to tell me.”

It occurs to you that that tone you heard earlier might have just been genuine worry and maybe… a bit of hurt. You twist your hands in your lap as you gather your words.

“I didn’t… it wasn’t because of you,” you murmur. “I just… was so embarrassed. And I didn’t want to make it your problem. I’m supposed to make your life easier, not harder.”

He huffs, but you’re relieved to see wry amusement on his face now.

“No more of that,” he orders, as softly as he when he wiped your face. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s a love.” He gently pinches your cheek, then stands. “Stay here, I’ll get you a cup of water. Take a moment, yeah?”

You nod, sniffling again. He squeezes your shoulder as he passes, and you finally let yourself breathe. Not getting fired, not getting sued. And Price isn’t mad at you. Christ, he needs to work on his approach.

“Kyle.”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Look into that knob from lobby. And the little miss’s last boss.”

“You’ve got it.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #mafia!au #oddly wholesome for a mafia au #mafia boss price #assistant!reader #assistant reader #john soap mactavish

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twice-inamillion · 4 months

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The Company

New Friend

A bit of smut and Story Building (Doggy style, sex, blowjob, creampie, penetration, self masturbation, fingering)

Chapter 2

3810 Words

(IU introduces her new friend to OC and welcomes her to the company. Little by little her friend discovers the relationship between you and IU. )

Over the past few months, IU and Irene have been helping the staff with auditions for the company. The company has hosted multiple international auditions in the United States, Japan, Australia, Thailand, and Canada.

About six thousand attendees participated in the audition combined, and out of all of them, only two hundred made it to the final rounds. Those lucky enough to get a slot were invited to Seoul, South Korea, to participate at Olympus Entertainment. The attendees were divided into two groups based on ranking. The two groups would be housed in the company’s large dorms, where they would partake in training for three months.

Within those three months, they would go over intense training consisting of dance, singing, stage, individual, and group presentations. At the end of those three months, only half of the group would move on to become trainees at Olympus Entertainment. They would then be sorted out into two groups again, but this time by age, and provided with more resources to increase their chances of debuting in a girl group or as a soloist. Each trainee would be required to complete standard education and be allowed to select courses in advanced languages, singing, dancing, rapping, stage presentation, and much more. Throughout their time at the company, they would be given benchmarks to meet, and at the end of the month, each would be evaluated and ranked. The trainers would support those who receive a low ranking, while those who receive a high rank would be taken into consideration for groups and, hopefully, their debut.

Obviously, some trainees were handpicked during auditions based on their raw talent and provided extra support by some of the trainers. Currently, five individuals are being considered to be part of Olympus Entertainment's first international girl group.

——————

There is a knock at your door, “Sir, may I come in?”

“Sure, come right in.”

“Thank you,” as IU walks towards your desk. “I brought in the friend that I told you about. She’s a good singer, and I think she would make an excellent coach to the trainees we have in mind for debuting.”

“That’s great news; you may welcome her inside.”

IU walks towards the hallway and signals her friend to come in. You see IU walking in with Taeyeon from Girl’s Generation. She’s one of the idols you held in high regard during your younger years.

“Hello, I’m Kim Tae-yeon from Girl’s Generation. Nice to meet you,” she said as she bowed her head.

“Likewise, nice to meet you. I’m surprised to meet you; I wouldn’t expect some from SM Entertainment in my company.”

“Ji-eun (IU) and I are really good friends. She told me you were looking for a vocal coach, so I wanted to try it.”

“Let’s get comfortable and take a seat,” inviting the both of them to take a seat. “First, does your company know you are here?”

“Well… yes and no.”

IU interrupts and says, “Her company knows that she is coming here based on my request but doesn’t know the reason why. All they asked her is that she doesn’t transfer companies.”

“Yes, she’s right. I came here because she said that the benefits of the vocal coach position are great, and honestly, I’m in need of some money.”

“Ohh, how so?”

“As you know, SM doesn’t have a good ratio when it comes to monetary distributions, and I was looking into putting out a solo, but they mentioned not having any funds to spare. I talked to IU about it, and she suggested applying for the position, which is why I’m here.”

You smirked a little and looked at IU before looking back at Taeyeon. “We are more than happy to welcome you as a vocal coach of your ability. I think our trainees would benefit a lot from having someone as talented as you.”

Taeyeon seems excited and smiles at IU before looking back at you, “Thank you so much for this opportunity!”

“No, thank you for thinking of us. Since you are a close friend of IU, how about we increase the pay a bit?” as you write down the amount on a sheet of paper. Taeyeon looks at the amount, “Are you sure? Isn’t this much more than what was posted online?”

“Ohh, it's fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m actually a fan of yours, and I would be more than happy to support you in releasing your solo album.”

“Thank you so much; I’ll do my best!”

“I’m sure you will.”

————

Taeyeon starts her position as vocal coach a few days later and focuses on a handful of trainees who might be selected for your first girl group. IU is directly in charge of her to make it easier for Taeyon. She even sleeps at IU’s apartment from time to time whenever things go a little later at the training center.

Today is one of those days as Tayeon comes back from giving a late vocal session and is going up the elevator of the large apartment complex that the company owns. She stares out the elevator window and admires how beautiful the campus is, especially at night, and is envious of it. SM is her home company, but she can’t help but compare the numerous resources that are offered here. “If I was younger, I would have loved to train here,” she said as she stared at the numerous trainees walking across campus. “Well… can’t do much about it now.”

The elevator mentions that it has arrived on the floor she selected, and it opens the doors. She walks down the hallway until she reaches the end of the hall and to IU’s apartment. Given access to her apartment, she scans her keycard and opens the door. “Ji-eun, I’m home!” but there is no response. She sees IU’s purse and phone on the kitchen counter and places her own purse on the living room couch. “Hey, are you in the bathroom?” Taeyeon walks down the hallway and peeks her head in the bathroom, but no one is there. She then hears noises coming from IU’s bedroom and walks towards it.

Taeyeon is surprised by what she sees through the small crack of IU’s bedroom door. She sees her friend getting fucked from the back, doggy style, by a tall, muscular man.

“Ahh… fuck! You’re reaching the back of my womb! Master, you’re too big; you’re going to mess me up!”

“Ji-eun, don’t tell me you don’t like how it feels. I thought we were close?”

“Of course not, master. It’s just that… my body is too small to fit all of you inside of me.”

“But, that’s why I like it. I love the way your small pussy feels.”

“Ahh… ahhh… then go ahead, master, enjoy yourself!”

You don’t give her a response as you pull most of your length out and lift her up in a reverse stand and carry. Taeyeon watches as the man in front of her impales her friend with a massive cock on the go, causing IU to yelp.

“I didn’t know she was having sex. Who’s the person with her?”

She didn’t have to wait long as she saw the man's face when he stood in front of the mirror. “Omg… she’s having sex with the CEO?”

“Fuck! I’m going to cum!”

“Master, go ahead! You already know this pussy belongs to you, only you!”

“That’s my girl. Here’s your reward for a good job!” You cock throbs inside of her one last time before pumping her with a large wave of cum.

“Oh my God!! I can feel your hot cum drowning my womb!” as IU makes lustful facial expressions.

Taeyeon’s body can't help but react to what’s in front of it. Her heart is pounding fast, her breathing is heavy, and her lower region is wet. “Why am I getting horny watching my friend getting fuck by her boss? What’s wrong with me?” She then sees IU get tossed onto the bed on her back and watches as a large amount of cum comes oozing out of her. She stands up and runs away, grabbing her purse and making her way out the door.

————

Taeyeon makes her way to the cafe on campus and stays there for about two hours. She replays the image when you cum inside of IU and wonders about the type of relationship the two of you have. “I can’t believe they were actually having sex, and I walked in on them. What am I going to do? Should I tell her that I saw them by accident? Or what if they saw me? Is it going to be awkward seeing them in person?” Many things go through her mind until she notices the time on her watch. She looked around and noticed that most of the customers were gone, and the employees were starting to clean. “I guess it can’t be helped. Let's hope they’re gone by now.”

Taeyeon exits the cafe and heads back to IU’s apartment. She opened the door and saw IU coming out of the shower in small shorts and an oversized t-shirt, “Hey, welcome back!”

“Thanks.”

“How come you’re late? I thought you got out two hours ago.”

“Yeah, I did, but I decided to go around and get a tour of the place and visit the cafe around here.”

“Aww… you should have told me. I would have given you a tour. It’s a nice place, right?

“Oh yeah… it’s beautiful. Lots of nice buildings and plants.”

“Well, the boss said he wanted everyone to feel safe and welcomed, so he designed the whole place like a college campus. There are a lot of places to relax and cafes throughout the campus. He’s so thoughtful; he’s a really good person.”

“Oh really… how so?”

“I mean… he can be cold sometimes, but if you get to know him, he’s actually sweet and thoughtful. He cares a lot for his employees and is willing to help them out. He even helped me out with my family’s financial situation, which I’m more than grateful for.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your family’s situation.”

“Noit'sts okay. I didn’t want others to find out, but it's okay now. All thanks to him for me and my family. Anyways, have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Okay, how about you go take a shower? I’ll order something for the both of us.”

“Sounds good.”

“Does pizza sound good?”

“Yes! SM doesn’t allow us to eat fattening foods, so I haven’t had it in a while.”

“That sucks, the company here is fine with it. I mean, as long as we don’t overdo it.”

“Really?”

Yeah, it’s great. Anyways, go shower.”

Taeyeon heads into the spare room that she’s using and gets her change of clothes. She walks to the bathroom, begins to undress herself, and tosses her dirty clothes in her laundry hamper. She notices laced underwear hanging from IU’s hamper and opens the lid to place the underwear inside properly. Suddenly, she notices a semi-white liquid on the underwear, brings it up to her nose, and whiffs. It’s a smell she’s never smelled before, and it's alluring. She sticks out her tongue and takes a small lick. The taste is bitter but not bad, and I decided to take another taste. She notices that this time, her body is having a reaction to it, and it's making her hot.

“I can’t describe the feeling, but I suddenly feel the urge to touch myself.” She lowers her hand to her cunt and traces her folds. “Ohh… why am I already this wet?”

She hops into the shower, takes IU’s stained panties, and uses them to masturbate. She traces her folds rapidly until she orgasm in the shower. When she’s down, she tosses the used panties back into IU’s hamper and changes them into her clothes.

“Damn, I forgot to bring extra panties.”

She opened the door and yelled, “Ji-eun, I forgot to bring some extra panties. Can I borrow some of yours?”

“Yeah, go ahead. They are in my drawer by the mirror.”

With a towel wrapped around her chest, Taeyeon makes her way to IU’s room and to the drawer. She opens the top, and she sees it full of jewelry; opens the second one, and it has bras. Taeyeon then opens the third one, sees it full of panties of multiple clothes, and grabs the tan one. “Hmm… it wouldn’t look good if I wore mismatched underwear, right? Hey, can I borrow a bra, too?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Thanks”

She opens the second drawer and tries to find the matching pair but notices some photos at the bottom. She pulls one out, turns it around, and sees it's a photo of IU in a comprising position. “What is this? Why does she have a picture of her posing without a bra?” She grabs another photo, and this time, it's of her on the bed with her legs spread apart and her cunt in full view. Taeyeon grabs the rest of the photos and goes through them, each more revealing than the rest. Her mind is turning, and her heart is racing from what she just found, and she quickly decides to put the photos back.

As she places the photos back, she hits something black, and it turns on a phone. She grabs the phone out of curiosity and sees the words “Master’s phone” on the lock screen. She swipes up, asks for a password, and puts IU’s birthday, but she gets it wrong. She tries two more times before inserting the date of IU’s first pet as a kid, and it unlocks. The first thing she sees is the photo app, and she is shocked at what she discovers.

Most of them are pictures of IU completely nude, pictures of what seems to be a large cock, of IU and a cock inside of her, and multiple videos of her having sex.

“What the…” Curious, she clicks on a video and it shows IU hiding on her desk and giving someone a blow job. She quickly slides to the next one. It seems to be around the same time with the same person, but this time, she’s having sex and is riding on someone. She fast-forwards the clip and notices that the room looks like the CEO’s office. She slides to the right, and this time, she sees you holding the photo while having IU’s face planted to the base of his cock. She exits out of the gallery and goes to the most recent event, which shows today’s date. This time it's a video of you fucking IU with her panties to the side, thrusting multiple times until you cum inside of IU and remove her panties. She watches as a large amount of cum oozes out of her friend’s cunt before you go back and insert your cock inside of her once more.

Taeyeon’s heart is beating hard again, and she decides to send herself a video pictures and videos to her phone. She places everything back to how it was and grabs the bra she needs before closing the drawer and exiting the room.

“I… thanks for letting me borrow some underwear.”

“No problem. The food is amount here.”

“Okay, I’ll be out soon.”

The two of them enjoy their dinner together and drink some beers before calling it a night. They each go to their rooms after brushing their teeth and close their door.

Taeyeon climbs onto her bed, pulls out her phone, goes to her downloaded folder, and pulls out the numerous videos and pictures. She goes through each photo carefully and is surprised by how small IU’s cunt is. The scene that gets her attention is when you smack your cock on IU’s pelvis right before inserting your cock inside of IU. Taeyeon gasps when she sees your massive cock split into IU’s cunt completely wide open. The sounds that her friend makes take your whole length, and the bulge she sees when it's completely inside.

Taeyeon plays through the whole video and watches as you thrust deep inside of IU, her friend’s moaning and the sound of flesh pounding onto each other. The more she watches, the more she gets the urge to masturbate and eventually slides her fingers down past her panties. She traces her folds and moves them in sync with the video with her two fingers. She concentrates on your voice as you warn IU that you are able to cum. IU responds by begging you to fill her up with your seed and fuck her once more. As you reach your climax, so does Taeyeon, and she arches her back to the voice of your grunting, “Fuck… I’m going to fill that small womb of yours.” “Ahh… yes! Dump all your cum inside this pussy of mine, please. Make me feel like a woman.” The next thing she hears is IU’s scream of pleasure as your hot cum invades her womb.

“Ahh… ahh… that felt much different from the other times I’ve masturbated.” Out of breath, she places the phone on the nightstand and goes to close for an early vocal session.

—————

Taeyeon wakes up early in the morning and heads to the studio for her morning vocal session. She focuses on a handful of trainees that have a high probability of debuting. After the session was over, she decided to try out the gym that was available for all staff and trainees. Making her way to the gym she notices the CEO running on the treadmill without his shirt off. She walks by and notices that one of the trainees in the area is gossiping about him.

“Omg, who is he? He’s so hot.” (Girl 1)

“I think he’s one of the staff members.” (Girl 2)

“I heard that he is the CEO of the company.”(Girl 3)

“No, that can’t be. I thought the CEO was a girl.” (Girl 1)

“I don’t think that anyone has seen the CEO yet, just the assistants who came to the auditions and the welcoming ceremony.” (Girl 3)

“Ehh, that doesn’t matter. That guy over there is my type. I wouldn’t mind if he was a coach. I would definitely ask him for some private lessons.”(Girl 3)

“Shh… keep it down. Don’t let them hear you. Don’t you know that they have strict dating policies for trainees. Especially with us, who are provisional trainees.” (Girl 3)

“I’m just saying, he’s hot.” (Girl 1)

“Yeah, he has a really nice body like the guy that plays Thor.” (Girl 2)

“Ladies, I would suggest you three continue your workouts or head somewhere else if you want to gossip.”

In unison, the three girls turn around, “We’re sorry, Taeyeon sonsengneem. We didn’t mean any harm.”

“I’m just kidding. But you three are right, he does have a nice body.”The girls laugh at Taeyeon’s comment, and they leave the area for their next session.

Taeyeon stares at you from behind, but you avoid reacting to it. You watch as she eyes you from head to toe before heading to one of the cable machines in the back.

“I hope he didn’t notice that I was checking him out. Ugh… I still can’t get that image out of my head. Damn Ji-eun, why did she introduce me to him.” She sets the weight on the machine and begins her workout.

After finishing her workout, she got up and got ready to head to the changing room. She only walks a couple of steps before turning back to get her phone when she bumps into you, slightly touching your limp cock.

“Good morning, Taeyeon unnie.” She turns around and sees you behind her. “Good…good morning.”

“Distracted much?”

“Ohh, I just forgot my phone.”

“Just be careful. You could have bumped into one of the machines and gotten hurt.”

“Ye…yes, I’ll be careful.”

“Are you done with the rest of your day?”

“No, not yet. I have a meeting with IU later on today.”

“Oh, okay, I think she mentioned something out of that. I’m actually going to meet with her in my office for our daily meeting.”

She sees your smile, and the first thing that comes to mind is her blowing you off in your office.

“Okay, I’ll be going. Nice seeing you, Taeyeon.”

——————

Later that day, Taeyeon waits inside one of the meeting rooms for IU to arrive. She looks at the clock on her watch and notices that she’s running a bit late. She pulls out her phone and texts, “I’m here in the meeting room.”

Within a couple of seconds, she receives a reply, “Sorry, Unnie, I just got off from a meeting with the boss. I’m going down the elevator right now, see you in a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

Taeyeon pulls out her bag and some documents that Taeyeon wants to look at for the meeting when she hears a knock on the door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Was real busy in the meeting.”

“No problem, take a seat.”

IU takes a seat across from Taeyeon and pulls out her laptop from her bag and opens it. She connected it to the projector and pulled out a slide of some trainees she wanted to focus on for the next weekdays.

Taeyeon tries to pay attention to IU but notices a white stain on IU’s lower lip. “Hey, you got a little something on your lip.”

Surprised, she says, “Oh, really? Where?”

“On your lower lip.”

“Haha, silly me. I just had a bite to eat earlier.” IU wipes off the stain on her lip with her thumb before licking it off her finger and continuing with her presentation. As IU gave her presentation, one of her pens fell on the floor. She bends over to pick it up and notices a strange white substance running down IU’s thigh and onto the floor. She stares at it briefly before returning and continuing the meeting with IU.

Inside of her head, she can't help but scoff at IU’s lie about her “important meeting” with the CEO. She knows clearly that her meeting was just a lie to cover up their “sessions” and are fucking in his office. But like a good friend, she can’t judge her friend or her relationship, so as they exit the meeting room, she whispers to IU, “You have something running down your thigh; you might want to get that cleaned up,” with a warm smile.

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indigovigilance · 16 days

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Bullet Theory

Thesis: Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet during the Final Fifteen kiss. This bullet contains his memories. He tucked it under his tongue, then began to access the memories during the ride up the elevator.

Edit: debunked by God himself, in response to this post. As a reminder, please don’t send fan theories to NG.

Proof:

Glint in the mouth

Inspo credit to this post by @somehow-a-human

Yeah so we were already paying way too much attention to that very special four-letter word we thought Aziraphale was going to say, but it so happens that during that cut-off phoneme is the only time you can see this shiny object in his mouth. (catching this on the right frame was emotionally painful and I’m sending Gavin Finney my therapy bills (actually no I’m not I love you very much sir)).

So that’s the basis of this theory. Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet that he then tucks under his tongue.

Add’l Evidence Post-Kiss

Aziraphale works his jaw after raising his fingers to his lips: [gif]

Then when the Metatron comes in, he turns his back on the Metatron and raises his hand. I originally thought he was wiping his eyes. Now I think he’s raising his hand to his mouth, maybe to spit out the bullet, maybe to make sure it’s secured under his tongue.

Credits Scene

Aziraphale has the craziest fucking look on his face through the credits, we can all agree. But towards the end, his eyes flicker back and forth, as if he is watching or reading something. Then he smiles. I hypothesize that he is still accessing his memories during this time, and getting the information he needs to [redacted].

Thematic Justification: The Bullet Catch

Aziraphale having a bullet in his mouth as part of a two-man act of deception is not a fresh concept by the time we get to The Final Fifteen.

Additionally, the use of surreptitious modes of communication, where messages are passed from person to person inaudabily, is introduced in this same magic trick.

NB1: I wish I could credit the person who I first saw point this out (relatively recently). It wasn’t even tagged as meta, I don’t think. But the gist was there’s some parallelism between “aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear” and the “pin the lips on the lips” move that Crowley pulls in the Final Fifteen. If I find it I will properly cite.

NB2: One hypothesis that has circulated around, I think creditable to @sendarya, is that Aziraphale mouths “trust me” to Crowley just before he gets on the elevator. This isn’t necessary to the Bullet Theory but it would be thematically consistent.

Small objects carry memories

Why a bullet? Well, it’s a small object that has meaningful significance between the pair of people involved, much like:

Beelzebub introduces us to the idea that a small object like a fly can be used as a storage container for memories. We also see that the object entering the body of the person is a viable way for the memories to be delivered.

(btw Jon Hamm if you’re reading this, you have very pretty eyes)

“I keep a derringer in a hollowed out book”

K, so it’s not like Crowley is just carrying a bullet loaded with Aziraphale’s memories around with him at all times, is it? (I mean, it could be, but probably not. I’ll just point you to this meta for my theories on why, if Crowley had anything that needed to be kept safe, he would keep it in the bookshop.)

We learn in S2E4 that Aziraphale keeps a gun in a hollowed out book somewhere in the shop. A gun wouldn’t be any good without bullets, right? This may not be the reason the derringer was left as a Chekhov’s Gun for S3, but it’s a possibility. If Crowley wasn’t already in possession of a bullet, he knew that he could find one in the shop. Even more likely, the exact bullet used in the 1941 magic trick is a precious keepsake being kept somewhere in the bookshop, and Crowley chose to use that exact bullet because of the memories already directly attached to the object.

Why Aziraphale even has memories to be returned to him

We know that Aziraphale could have had his mind wiped because Heaven has done it before. Certainly once. Probably twice. We know this because when Metatron is announcing that Gabriel, alongside having his memories erased, is being demoted to 38th class, Muriel pipes up and reminds us that they are 37th class:

So this wasn’t a “just Gabriel” thing. Mind-wiping is a routine form of personnel management in Heaven. There is NO reason for us to believe that it didn’t happen to Aziraphale. But in case you need a reason to believe it, here goes:

We know from our interactions with Jim that the person whose memories are missing (1) doesn’t necessarily know and (2) isn’t necessarily distressed by that fact, even if they do. Muriel also fits this “cheerful empty shell” archetype. You know who else does? Ding ding ding. The one and only A. Z. “wiggles with delight” Fell.

I can already hear your very valid counter-argument. This guy is actually terrified out of his mind on any given day that his romance with a demon will be discovered. Yes. Because he’s involved in a romance with a demon. The other two angels we’ve met don’t have this issue. Beyond that, though, these three characters share more in common with each other disposition-wise than any of them do with the other angels we’ve met (Uriel, Michael, Sandolphon, etc.).

We also know that Aziraphale has been [demoted] at some point from Cherub to Principality. This is book canon:

"Technically Aziraphale was a Principality, but people made jokes about that these days."

This has also been confirmed (insofar as Neil Gaiman ever confirms anything) by Word of God:

(marketing video screengrab clipped for brevity)

We don’t know for sure it was a demotion, but I think we have enough evidence to infer that with a high degree of confidence.

Anyways.

Summary: Aziraphale is a cheerful angel who was demoted and has a name that is not biblical canon. This evidence indicates that was probably mind-wiped. This is not the first time I’m proposing this. It won’t be the last.

How Crowley Did It

My meta on Continuity Errors gives the complete proof for why I believe that Crowley is able to stop time without Aziraphale knowing, and I propose in that meta that the kiss was a cover-up for the exertion of effort necessary to pull that off. I further proposed that during the pause, he retrieved something from the bookshop. At the time of writing, I didn’t know what. Now, I have an inkling that it was a bullet.

If you need a refresher on Clock Theory, here’s one. The idea is that the clock behind Aziraphale shifts by fifteen minutes from before the kiss to after the kiss. This is consistent with a theory that Crowley paused time (but the clock kept running) in order to retrieve the bullet, dump Aziraphale’s memories into it if he hadn’t already, and then return to transfer the bullet to Aziraphale.

Why Crowley Kept the Secret So Long

As with Continuity Errors, I am ending this meta with a very unsatisfactory “I don’t know.” The motivation for Crowley to keep Aziraphale’s memories from him until the very moment he’s about to leave must have been a strong one. I think it has something to do with why Crowley was so insistent on trying to get Aziraphale to run away with him, instead of dealing with whatever’s coming. But as with Continuity Errors, I suspect that the good omens meta hivemind (and the vast collection of people who are posting clues, you have no idea how important you are) will assemble yet more breadcrumbs that we can follow to some sort of hypothesis.

Until then,

(here's my meta index if you would like to read more stuff like this)

#good omens meta #bullet theory #the final fifteen #crowley #aziraphale #good omens gabriel #good omens muriel #good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #good omens theory #good omens speculation #good omens analysis #good omens clues

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 days

Text

The Man 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stand behind the counter, ready to serve the next customer that comes through the door. If you thought the rush was bad, the lulls are worse. The time drags by as the clock seems to taunt you. You sigh again as you hear Bre clattering around in the back room. You’d rather be back there folding up empty boxes and scouring trays.

You yawn and waver on your feet. The small local cafe doesn’t have the consistent traffic of the franchised kiosk just down the block but there are still hectic rushes. The mornings just after nine, then at noon when the office workers run out for a refresh espresso or a lunchtime sweet, but the afternoons usually deliver no more than the errant college student on their laptop or a few friends in between visits to boutiques.

The door opens and you glance over at the man who walks through the door. He strikes you as out-of-place as he struts across the cafe, hitting a table with his thigh, and sneering at it as if it insulted his mother. He’s tall with broad shoulders, and his hair is slicked back while the sides of his head are buzzed. He wears a black turtle neck under and open jacket and a pair of matching slacks that show off his ankles. His loafers are a rippling grey and black snakeskin print with a shining silver buckle.

You grip the sides of the till as he approaches but he doesn’t look at you. You stare, a little put off by his lack of acknowledgement as he peers up at the menu. He steps forward, tapping his fingers on the counter as he blows out between his lips. A golden signet ring flashes on his pinkie. You’re still not sure he’s in the right place.

“Hello, sir, can I get you--”

“Shh,” he hisses and holds up his finger. You snap your mouth shut and blink. He squints at the menu. He hums, clucking as he gives a thoughtful look to the hand-painted letters. Alright?

You wiggle your foot impatiently, biting your tongue. You’re not an inherently rude person but some customers make you wish you were. You watch him and he finally lowers his chin.

“Oat latte. Half blonde espresso, half regular, with the toffee nut syrup and a sprinkle of cinnamon.”

You nod as you punch in his order. It’s quite the drink. Sometimes you think people just pile on to see how far they can push service workers. They can’t just have a simple drink. Some even request the temperature to the digit.

“Alright, got it, it’s fifty cents for the syrup, is that okay?”

“Fifty cents?” He echoes haughtily, “no, that’s not okay.”

“Um, okay, well, it’s uh, on the menu,” you crane to look behind you, “fifty cents for a flavour shot, twenty-five for whipped cream.”

“I didn’t ask about goddamn whipped cream. They don't charge me here, doll. Get me the goddamn drink,” he demands.

You reel. Admittedly, you’re new. You’re learning but your first lesson was simple; customers are awful.

“I can just take the syrup off, I guess,” you hit the x and the whole order disappears.

“Didn’t you hear me? No charge, honey. It’s on the house.”

You purse your lips and look at him. You raise a brow. Alright, this is a new one.

“Um, if you’d just hold on, I think... uh, I should ask--”

“Yeah, you better fucking ask,” he sneers as swipes at a stack of paper cups and sends them flying. You flinch out of the way and spin to burst through the door to the kitchen.

“Uh, Bre,” you say, “there’s a really angry dude out there and he wants a free latte so uh, what do I do about that?”

She looks over at you as she puts a tray of cookies on a cooling rack. She frowns and her forehead stitches. She pulls of her oven mitt and checks her fitbit.

“Shit, it’s Thursday,” she mutters as if it’s the end of time.

“Yeah, it is, so uh--”

She waves away your words with the mitt and tosses both on the counter as she hurries past you. Confused, you turn to follow her through the swinging door. You stay behind her as she goes to the till.

“Mr. Hansen, so lovely to see you, what were we getting today?” She chimes, more lively than you’ve ever heard you. At any other time, she’s dulcet, almost monotone, completely over the cafe lifestyle.

He scoffs and his eyes drift from her to you. He pokes his tongue into his cheek, “oat, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” he notes each element tersely, “and how about you teach this one some goddamn manners.”

He glares at you and you give a wide-eyed look. You shrug at Bre as she glances over at you. She shakes her head subtly. You take a step back.

You grab a cup and she quickly takes it out of your hands, “I got it, stay out of the way.”

You put your hands up and back away. You don’t know what you did wrong. Who is this man? He smirks and hovers on the other side of the counter as he crosses his arms over his puffed chest. Bre brews a fresh espresso and steams the oat milk.

“I’m waiting, sweet lips,” he cups a hand to his ear, his other arm still over his chest.

You look back and forth.

“Apologise,” he demands.

Bre clears her throat and you glance over, your mouth falling open dumbly.

“Oh, uh,” you face the man again, “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t know--”

“Well, now you fucking do,” he sneers as Bre places a cup down before him and a paper bag.

“Mr. Hansen, there’s a cinnamon bun for you too. We just took em out of the oven.”

“You’re such a dear, Bre Bear,” he cooes, sending you a venomous snarl.

You cringe as he spins and strides out with his fare. You watch after him, still thoroughly perplexed. Bre wipes the counter with a cloth.

“The next time he comes in, give him whatever he wants,” she says quietly.

“Oh, I didn’t... who is he?” You garble.

“Better you don’t know. Just think of him as the boss,” she sends you a desperate look, her eyes gleaming, “if you know what’s good for you, you’ll smile and listen.”

She brushes you with her shoulder as she goes back into the kitchen. You furrow your brow and glance towards the door. The man’s just outside the windowed walls, watching you. He winks before he disappears beyond the next facade

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #series #drabble #the man #mob!au #au

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beababoobies · 3 months

Note

Oh, oh! I love him this snake boy so much! May I request a sort of part two to Somethin’ Stupid where it fouces on their relationship afterwards?

Pentious getting the love he deserves? Yes. Absolutely. I’m on it. You got it boss, we love the silly snake boy!

Somethin’ Stupid - Part 2.

part one here! Sir Pentious x Reader. words : 1k.

Ever since that night - full of tears and embraces, kisses, and even some discovers of more of a certain body part than you had expected - your life at the hotel at flipped. It went from dejected rehabilitation as your complete last resort to something out of one of those stupid teen romance books you read when you were still alive.

Your days were still spent trying to get into Heaven, sure. You still had to do all the motions of rehabilitation, you still had to get up early and deal with Angel and Husks’ bickering, your favourite wall being consistently blown up, and Charlies’ occasional toxic positivity breakdowns where you were worked out of your mind. But you did it hand in hand with your anxious, yet charming serpent boyfriend.

You spent your nights cuddled up against him, you had even given up your room to share one with him. You had also learned that he could shed. Not your favourite thing about it, to put it nicely, but you accepted every part of your little ball of insecurity. Because he was your little ball of insecurity. And he made you feel like the prettiest sinner in every ring of hell.

He would bring you flowers, compliment you at any chance you wanted. He was good in bed - though that was just a bonus. He listened patiently, and he gave you your space. And now that you could actually get close to him, you discovered that not only was he adorable, he was also your new best friend. Your personalities fit together like a puzzle piece.

And here you were, thinking all this, cuddled up against him with him gently holding you to his chest, listening to him go on about his old rivalry and big fights. His egg boys - who were practically now your egg boys as well, and you loved them dearly. He started on about how he admired you for so long. This, you wouldn’t mind listening to.

“I thought you were the mosssst beautiful a ssssinner could be.” He says with a soft sigh, hand rubbing small anxious circles into your back. “Thought you had to be an Angel, becausssse I didn’t know ssssinnerssss could be that angelic.” He hums out, pressings a kiss to the top of your head, cuddling up against you, feeling content. He looked the most relaxed in the past weeks than you’d ever seen him.

“You were very.. oddly charming.” You day with a small giggle, looking up to see him all pouty and confused, making the smile on your face grow wider as you try not to laugh at his expense. “You’re clumsy, and anxious but.. you don’t try to hide it behind anger.” You say as you lean up and peck his cheek, watching his face grow red. You sigh contently. “You’re so unforgivably vulnerable and that’s why I love you so hard.”

He melts at your words, bottom lip trembling and you giggle, nuzzling your cheek against his before noticing his state, tears forming in his eyes as he tries to hold back tears. “Are you about to cry?” You say with a small giggle, gently holding his face in you palm, sighing softly. “‘S okay baby, you can cry around me.” You say with a genuinely smile.

He bursts out into a half-sob half-rant about how lucky he is to have you, how he doesn’t even believe you’re real because you’re so pretty. You listen to it with a big smile and it gets so sweet you even feel tears forming in your eyes, using your thumbs to wipe the tears away from the face of the man you love oh so much.

“I jusssst - jussst love being around you. Can’t believe i’m with you. That you l- like me! Me! I feel like I ssshould be calling up my mom, telling her I made it.” He says between sobs and sniffles, and all you can do is nod along with his words. Sighing softly as you watch him pour out all his loving emotions to you. “I ssstood there for monthsss, thinking I don’t have a chance. Sssshouldn’t even talk to you. But I don’t even want redemption now. I have my Heaven right here..” he mumbles out the last part, looking up at you with those teary eyes, hiccuping softly.

“I think Heaven might suit you a lot better, though.” You say sweetly, gently leaning down to press another kiss to his other, now tear-soaked cheek. “Think they need someone as kind as you up there.” You say reassuringly, watching him shake his head, making you smile. “Don’t want redemption. I have you.” He says again, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.

“Y-you know.” He starts, raising one of his hands to cup at your cheek, and so you take one of your hands from his face and cradle it against his gentle and loving touch, raising your eyebrows. “I know?” You question with a smile, watching him smile.

“I’m glad I went and ssssaid ssssomethin’ ssstupid like….” He pauses, realizing he hasn’t said it since, piercing his lips together as he realizes the awkward situation he’s put himself in. You chuckle softly and squeeze his hand, getting his attention back on you.

“I love you?” You question, ending his statement for him. You watch as he lights up all over again, eyes still wet with tears, agreeing to your statement with a kiss, before pulling away. He nods again.

“I love you.”

#hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hellaverse

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slvt4lanadelrey · 11 months

Text

Flirty Stranger | Wednesday Addams

Warnings: swearing, Tyler

Wednesday x Galpin!fem

"That'll be 3.99 please, sir." You smiled polity at the taller man infront of you, he sniffled a smile; slamming a five dollar bill into your hand. You gritted your teeth, Lucas was always an ass.

You pressed down on the till, it slamming open; the coins and loss change jiggling when it did. You received his change, handing it to him with a smile.

"Have a nice day." It was a rule at the coffee store: be polite, smile and just be an averagely good person.

Lucas smiled back, placing the money onto the edge of the tip jar.

"Do you want my chaple change, Galpin?" Your nose flared, fingers wrapping around the counter of the table. This was a repeating game with the boy; he had some sick pleasure from you begging for his money. Today though, you honesly couldn't care if he got you fired. You'd burnt the tip of your finger in boiling water, an absolute fiend demanded that you got their order wrong, four times. Your older brother, Tyler, had stormed into the store late for his shift which somehow led to your dad shouting at you for not waking your brother up in time. Fair to say your day was horrible, and all you wanted to was dive head first into a book.

"I don't want, nor do I need your spare money, Lucas." His smiled dropped, eyes casting into a dark gaze.

"I think you miss spoke? Did you mean, Yes sir?" You could have sworn by the amount of times you'd gritted your teeth you wouldn't have any by the end of the shift.

"No. I did not miss speak."

He coughed, the coins teasing the tip jar.

"You know that job is a privilege, not a right." Another person entered the coffee shop, walking into the line that only consisted of Lucas.

"Are you being rude again?" The women asked, pressing her cold finger into Lucas' back. Lucas shrugged the finger off, face drifting into fear at the sight of the girl infront of him.

"No. No Wednesday, we- she was only.." he stuttered out, his fingers finally releasing the money into the jaw. He collected his coffee, sprinting out of the store without a second look.

"Evening. May I have a coffee?" You stared at the girl, her eyes cold and hooded when they looked at you. She was dressed in Nevermore uniform, which meant she had some sort of power.

"Obviously, this is a cafe?" You retorted, eyes tired. Your shoulders were sagged, aching from your bad posture, your eyes were dry and begging for a finger to run into the wisk lids.

"Black. No sugar, no cream."

You hummed, pouring the rich beads of bean's into the crusher. Within moments the coffee was done, steaming in the air. You cupped the lid, pressing it down onto the cup. You slid it onto the counter, telling the girl infont of you the price. She handed you the money, precisely.

"Here." She slipped a hundred dollor bill into the cup, nodding solemnly. You groaned, rolling your eyes. Your fingers dipped into the cup, pressing the bill into her chest.

"I'm not a charity case." She frowned deeper, hand holding the bill.

"I did not imply such a thing. I am measly complamenting your abilities of making an admirable coffee. Is that a crime?" The girl infront of you asked, speaking in such a formality you almost cringed.

"Look, it's nice and all but I'd rather you go on with your day. Makes my life easier." The girl carried on to frown, placing the bill once again into the jaw. The same action played out; you pulled the bill out, she placed it back in.

"Why are you so stubborn?"

"Why are you so stuborn?" You mocked, rolling your eyes.

"This surely isn't allowed as a worker, your being deliciously rude." The girl commented, standing slightly less tall; almost like you had drained the energy out of her.

Your eyes drooped, sighing out in frustration.

"I'm a barista, I'm literally serving coffee to pay my phone bill. I don't owe you anything, I'm not a slave, I shouldn't have to beg you to give me a tip- I don't want a tip. You've payed your bill, so leave."

Wednesday shifted on her feet, her tongue rolling over her teeth.

"Fine." You sighed out, thankful that she finally gave you the space. Then, her fingers wrapped around your belt loop; tugging you forward. She slid the note into your pant pocket, turning around before you could object.

You stared at the open space she once took up. Another customer taking up the empty space within momemts.

"Hi, Ma'am, how may I help you?"

---

Days went by, Lucas didn't harass you. Atleast not at work, at school was a different topic. You eventually learnt the ravens name; Wednesday Addams.

The door bell rang, in walking someone dressed all in black. Instead of coming straight to the till they went to table three. The smaller girl slid into open row, placing her hands on the table and locking them together.

You sigh, Wednesday sitting tall on the chair. You picked up your note book, walking towards the argumentative girl.

"What can I get you today?" You asked, smile plastered on your face. Your pen etched into the paper below it, awaiting the girls answer.

"Mm. My usual." She tucked herself further into the seat, glaring up at you.

You groaned, placing the book down on the table, resting your hand on it.

"Do you really think I can remember that?" Wednesday looked at you, fantom smile dancing on her lips.

"I bet you've remembered every detail of my face." She stated proudly, daring you with a smirk.

"Is that so?" You leaned down, your body tumbling over hers. She nodded, her finger tracking up your arm.

"I've remembered yours."

You hum into the air, smiling like you just won the lottery. You pulled back, your frame casting a shadow over Wednesday's small one.

"What's your name again?"

The question knocked the air out of Wednesday, sucking all of her confidence out.

"Uh. Wednesday Addams."

Your tongue rolled over your top teeth, then sucked your bottom lip into your mouth. Humming to fill the deafening silence.

"Wednesday? That's new. Do you still want that black coffee?" Wednesday clenched her jaw, moving her wandering hand away from you.

"Maybe your number would suffice." She muttered, her eyes still undressing you. You nodded, writing something down on your notepad.

You slid it over, not missing the way her eyes sparked and she almost groaned when the piece of paper was in her hands.

Nice try :) I'm not that easy <3

"That coffee will do, I guess." She groaned, staring at the paper in defeat. Her posture deflated, falling into a soulless sight.

"Fantastic"

Your shift dragged like always, your day seemingly never ending. The Raven haired girl that sent a nerve down your spine stayed, all day.

"Miss Addams, this cafe is closing." You mumbled out from under the counter, your hands cleaning up the beans you spilled earlier that day. Wednesday shuffled towards you, feet stopping when they came face to face with yours.

"May I walk you home?" She asked, standing taller with the suggestion. You was on your knees infront of her, staring through messy hair.

"Why?" You stood back up, placing the beans into the trash, wiping your hands free of the dust that built up on your open palm.

"Its dark, we never know what monster that lurkers outside the door." She said it in such a way that made you guess for what creep would be waiting for you. You nibbled on your bottom lip, staring at the girl who was similar height.

"I think that if any creep tried to have me they'd have to put up a fight. Plus, your the stranger." You noted, walking through the store with a cloth in your hand; wiping down the tables.

Wednesday followed closely after, following you like a lap dog.

"I don't have to be. If only you'd tell me your number. I've been told that I am a gracious date planner." She nodded, proud of her words; rethinking her previous conversations with someone.

"You've been on a date?" You laughed, mocking the implication. She shuffled on her feet, her fringe slightly frazzled at the tiresome day.

"Well no. But- but I assume I would be, I'm a bit of a perfectionist." You stared blankly at her, knowing she was eventually going to tire you down.

"No."

She blinked, her fist clenching around her skirt hem.

"And why not?" She all but whined, sounding like a toddler who wasn't allowed ice-cream, she may have well stomped her feet and screamed.

"Because I don't have time." You mumbled, pushing your lose hair out of your face. You brushed past her, not missing the way her fingers touched yours in a hope to grab your attention; when it didn't work she groaned.

"You can't possibly be that busy? Granted, you have school, maybe an after school activity? Then homework, coming here for- well awhile, then your free to spend your day." Wednesday thought, labeling your whole day.

You hummed, leaning over the counter. It was just like the first time you met, her standing infront of the counter, staring at you through dark eyes.

"I wake up at six, get dressed, plan my outfit and leave for school, I end school at three. I have rugby practise after school for two hours, then I have to come here. I leave her at eight, sometimes nine. After work I have to clean my whole house, cook for my dad and older brother, by then it's about eleven. Sometimes I can fit in my homework, other times i just do it in my breaks. After eleven, I have my shower, then I sleep and repeat my day." Wednesday placed her hand onto the counter, her face riddled with thought.

"Well. Give me your homework, so your break will be free and I can take you on a date, sound adequate?" You laughed, smiling at the girl who was dead serious.

"Why are you laughing? I did not state a joke." Wednesday muttered, pressing herself more into the counter. Your faces were inches away from each other, a daring smile still on yours.

"Uh huh. Your cute, Wednesday." Your finger brushed her fringe, making sure it was in the right place. You hummed seeing the same face that you saw a week previously.

"I'm not a cheat thought, nice try." You leaned forward, kissing her cheek before pulling away. She was left stuck, lost in the mist of your fruitfully perfume and flawless actions of physical touch.

"Care to leave now? I really need to get home before my dad does." You slipped out of the apron, pushing all of your lose hair out of your face; dragging the back of your wrist across your forehead, wiping away the steamed sweat.

"I'll be back." You didnt doubt her in anyway, automatically assuming Wednesday hadn't been told no often in her life. She stormed out of the store. Finally after a while you was left to breath, sighing into the dead silent cafe. The bell rang, Tyler barging through the door.

"Was that Wednesday Addams?"

#jenna ortega #jennaortega #lgbt #tara carpenter #wlw #wednesday addams x fem #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addmas x fem #wednesday addams #vada cavell #Lorraine day #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem #jenna ortega x fem!reader

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toomanygoldfish · 4 months

Text

apple juice at a coffee shop

“could I get an apple juice?” Your order may be fairly simple but at least it’s consistent.

you and Iwaizumi were at a local coffee shop, wasting your time before the movie you were supposed to watch started.

“sure! what size?” She looked up at you expectantly.

“let’s go with… medium” The barista picked up a cup and wrote something small on it before passing it to her coworker.

“of course one medium apple juice coming right up!” She turned to Iwaizumi, “and for you sir?”

his eyes widened in surprise like he wasn’t expecting to be asked something like that. His eyes frantically looked into the menu.

“Oh…. Um …. Can I get a medium London fog?” The barista smiled lightly at him before marking his cup and handing it to her coworker once more.

“of course. Is that it for you two?” she asked mildly. Iwaizumi looked to you in mild panic.

Noticing his panic you quickly end the conversation,“yup, thank you” you turn to your boyfriend.

“iwa? A London fog? I didn’t take you for a tea kind of person”

“it’s tea??” “yes?? What did you think you got?!” You notice someone standing behind him, so you loosely pull his arm, guiding him out of the person’s way.

“I don’t know? It was on the board as a barista favorite, and I’ve never been here before, so I was kinda caught off guard.”

Chuckling lightly you look at him with a raised brow, “you got a new drink because it was somebody’s favorite?”

“yes…” He leans against the pickup counter, “to be fair I didn’t know what else to get.”

You stare into his soul for a second longer before looking away, “you’re strange.”

“ and yet, you love me for it.” He reaches for you hand and holds it in his own.

“that I do,” you squeeze his hand affectionately, “your tea is ready”

he grabs his tea from the barista and walks away, he pulls you after him not once letting go of your hand. once you are a few meters away from the counter he pauses and brings the cup up to his nose, sniffing hard. he pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out how to feel about the smell before going in for another sniff. He does this three more times.

“Pfft- you look like a weirdo right now, just a buff dude leaning over his hot drink sniffing hard” you start to pull him towards the exit, he follows you haltingly, stopping every few feet to sniff the cup again.

“Have you ever had a London fog?” He walks to the door and pushes it open, holding it for you as you step through it.

“no, I don’t know what’s in it”

“neither do I”

“ you should look it up, let’s sit here”

You sit down on a bench outside the coffee shop. You had started to take some small sips of your apple juice as you checked you socials. When you glance over at Iwaizumi, he is intensely staring at his phone.

He puts down his phone and catches your eye, “it is gray tea and steamed milk” he gives you a small smile and you return it.

He goes to take a si, but right before he sips, he brings the cup back up to your nose. You snort because he has never been the type of person to be scared by trivial things, let alone a new drink.

He turns to you once more,“it smells like lavender, smell it” he passes you the drink, carful not to spill its hot contents on you. you bring it closer to you nose, and take a deep breath. “ooo it does! Take a sip!”

He very cautiously brings it to his lips. Iwaizumi takes a tentative sip then closes his eyes, deep in thought.

He hesitates then says “it tastes like lavender… it tastes like how a microwave sock smells”

You blanch,“I’m sorry? A microwave sock?”you swivel to look him in the eyes, and repeat very slowly “a microwave sock?”

He places his drink down on the table. “you know….” He pauses to think for a second “The one where you put it in the microwave and heat it up, some girls use it for cramps?”

You blink incredulously at him. “a rice sock?”

“yes! that’s the thing, here try it!” You grab the drink from in front of him, you drink slowly, careful not to burn you tongue.

You pause to think carefully, and the more you think about it the more you realize that he had gotten the taste spot on. “oh, OH your right!!”

you slide the drink back over to him, and he grabs it and starts to drink. He manages to burn his tongue. Iwaizumi takes another sip and wrinkles his nose. “Do you not like it?” He face was scrunched up adorably, but it softened into a small smile when he saw you looking at him.

“it’s not my favorite,” he says honestly “I mean, it feels like something you would take studying, but I’m not studying, I’m on a date with my lover”

now it’s your turn to wrinkle your nose at his wording. “don’t say it like that! It sounds like I’m you affair partner”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and sips at his drink again, he gives a noncommittal “Mmm.”

you look at his face and chuckle. “You can toss it ya know”

“with the liquid in the cup?”

You shrug “I don’t see why not, you could also pour it out”

He checks his phone and goes to stand up, “ok, our movie is in like 3 minutes, let’s go.” The two of you start on your way to the theater behind you. Iwaizumi stops next to the plants running next to the walk way. He pulls the lid off of the cup and slowly pours it into the ground. You speak up from behind him.

“do you think it’s cannibalism?”

“what?” “giving your tea to the plants,” you pause and stare intently at the wet patch of dirt, “they are drinking the soul of their brethren” he gives you a strange look before putting the lid on the cup.

“I think everything is a cannibal if giving the chance.” He shrugs and throws his cup into a trash can nearby. “given the chance… iwa I think you mean, ‘put in dire situation’ cause if you say it like that….” You widened your eyes, chuckling and look deliberately to the side.

Iwaizumi gives you a weird look before grabbing your hand and pulling you closer to him. “Alright, let’s move on from that topic, let’s go to the movies”

You smile widely, “with your affair partner!”

“no-“

#haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #reqs open #haikyu x reader #fluff #the goldfish speak #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu!!

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otakubimbo · 3 months

Text

Checkmate.

MafiaBoss Sukuna x F!Reader

You had a routine. You had a life. You had plans. Is your association with someone you hate going to change everything for you?

Sticky: I was asked to make it into a series so this is the prequel to this! It will be an on going series. I don't know how many chapters yet.

UPDATED STICKY: hi yes, you may be seeing this thinking 'OB this definitely doesn't look like what you wrote before.' and you would be right, i hated it so i changed it. Sorry, love yall, bye T-T

masterlist

next chapter

The activity at the Zenin compound was raising suspicion from their enemies, especially their biggest one The King of Curses. The two yakuza families had been cordial for the most part through the decades, but lately, the hot-headed Naoya Zenin was pushing his way into the King of Curses territory and that would not do, not at all. So, on top of the brazen acts by the end of that family, the activity coming from the compound DAILY was raising all alarms for Ryomen Sukuna. And the activity? It was you, coming in and out the front gates of the compound almost daily, always bringing something with you, always leaving without anything. The biggest issue, no one had any information on you and yet you were casually coming in and out of the compound as if you were an important member of the Zenin’s. The King of Curses needed to know your role with them and how to use it to his advantage to get Naoya out of his hair for good.

That’s what led to one of the King of Curses disgruntled underlings following you around for the last two weeks. Nothing you did was of interest; you were actually quite boring. Your day consisted of leaving your condo with a bag of who knows what to the Zenin compound, spending a few hours there, and leaving to go to the park not far from the compound to play chess? With old people? It was strange, and then after that, you would leave after seemingly beating every old man who would sit with you and play to go to a café or library to work away at something on your computer.

Sukuna’s face was twisted into a scowl as he read over the report of your day.

“What the fuck is this?” His voice made the men under his command shrink into themselves and back down.

“Sir, that’s all we have. That’s all she does.” One of them spoke up not meeting Sukuna’s glare. The man before them flexes his fingers in an attempt to quell his rage from snapping either of their necks.

“Do you at least have a name; do you have anything?”

The silence from their lack of response was louder than anything they could have said. Sukuna crumbles the report in his hand, balling his fist and banging it against the sturdy wooden desk. He had to think of something. There had to be something he could think of because surprisingly enough despite how arrogant and boisterous Naoya was, the boy kept his circle tight and private. Nothing that the boy doesn’t want out, never gets out. You truly seemed nothing of interest but then no one and he knew NO ONE was allowed to freely walk in and out of that compound so casually without significance. Also, there was something about you that he couldn’t figure out and it was driving him almost insane. He had seen videos in the reports he was being sent of you and the way you walked and carried yourself had him in thought. In thought of what? He really didn’t know but he knew he needed to figure out what your connections with all of this were. Just before he was truly about to lose his temper, he did have an idea. After all, you were a woman so this should at least get a little information out of you.

“Bring me Fushiguro .”

Fushiguro, Toji Fushiguro, was one of Sukuna’s subordinates who would be considered a ‘ladies man’ and you were a lady. It was one of the oldest tricks in the book. He would use Toji to sway you into giving up some type of information or at the very least gain a bit of your trust to get you here to interrogate that wouldn’t draw any suspicions from the Zenin’s. It was a good plan that has worked on more than one occasion. Well, that was what Sukuna assumed until Toji actually met you.

There you were, right on schedule, as usual, laughing at the older man who sat across from you. It seemed that you had been beating him at a round of chess and the old man was being grumpy about it. Toji walked up with his casual nonchalant attitude toward the bench you were sitting on.

“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Toji commented as he walked up to you. You look up at him, a slight scowl on your face that he wasn’t expecting. Women usually fawn over him always immediately, but you looked almost disgusted. The glares he was getting from the older men around you didn’t help his circumstance either.

“Did you need something?” Your tone is annoyed as you glare up at him. He chuckles at your hostility. That made you scowl even more; you really didn’t want to be bothered by this man especially one as seemingly cocky and self-assured as this one.

“I’ve seen you here at the park a few times and wanted to get your name.” He lied and he could tell you knew it was a lie by the way your eyes narrowed at him.

You roll your eyes, sighing going back to making a move on the board in front of you, “Well I haven’t seen you before so I would prefer not to acquaint myself with you.”

Toji could tell this was going to be a lost cause on his part. Sukuna was not going to be happy about this in the least bit but there wasn’t anything else he could do, your body language told him everything he needed to know. He raised his hands in defeat and apologized for bothering you, heading back to the car parked around the corner. If Toji was a man who didn’t value his life, he would tell the King that he should give up on seeing what you know unless he just wanted to kidnap and torture you. You didn’t seem like the kind of girl to just give in to anything easily, and these soft plans would be a waste of everyone’s time. But Toji was a man who did value his life at least a little, so he just planned to tell him exactly what happened and that you weren’t interested in speaking to him in the least bit.

Sukuna was frustrated with Tojis report, he couldn’t help but shoot one of the lackeys he had in the room. He didn’t kill him, maybe, but this was getting on his nerves quickly. The King’s attempt at trying to be subtle for once was getting him nowhere and it was pissing him off.

You knew you had been being watched for weeks now; it was almost obvious with the way that the same men kept appearing around the same time every day. They weren’t really good at this, it seemed to you. It didn’t concern you that much though, you understood why you may have been followed but you didn’t have any information of value. Naoya allowed you into the Zenin compound and he was never shy about what he did for a living or the type of man that he was. He didn’t value you as a person, so he allowed you to go and come as you pleased, which you were grateful for. He was a man who such self-assurance, such bravado, such misogyny that he didn’t find any value in hiding anything from you or your cousin that he made his wife. Your cousin, more of a sister to you than anything, was unfortunately the now wife of Naoya Zenin and the only reason you would EVER visit his compound. You hated every single second you spent in that space, but you did it for your cousin. She was trapped in these walls and unable to go anywhere unless it was with the end of the clan himself. The only thing that man allowed was for you to see her and you took that, making it almost your job to visit her every day in order to keep her sanity. You would bring her breakfast, books, snacks, or whatever you have found that could make sure she felt connected with the outside world and connected with something else besides the Zenin’s.

Every day you had almost the same schedule, visiting your cousin for a few hours, discussing the past day’s events and anything that you had brought over. Then you would go over to this beautiful park and play chess with the elders there, they adored you so much even if you beat them every time. After that, you would go off to either the library, a café, or anywhere that you could get back to work on your dissertation. That was the reason you had so much time to visit your cousin and make sure she was alright; you were working on your dissertation and that was the only thing that truly required your focus. You came from a wealthy family that was similar to the zenin’s in the way that there was no value to a woman besides being a bride. Luckily for you, your parents had agreed to allow you to finish any education before marrying you off just like your cousin. Which is why you are currently working on your Ph.D. in comparative literature. You had hoped to continue down the path of education hoping that if you elongate your studies, your parents will focus more on your brothers and forget about you. You hoped.

It had been a while since you had been followed and since your last encounter with that handsome but strange man who attempted to flirt with you for whatever reason that you completely forgot about those interactions. This is why the confusion on your face was felt by the elders that you usually play chess with as you walk to your park in the spot where you play to see them laughing and playing with someone else who isn’t you. It took you WEEKS to have them allow you to play and now here sat a man in YOUR spot playing with them as they laugh and smile at the man.

There in your place sat a man you knew you had never seen before. There sat the King of Curses himself, Ryomen Sukuna.

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cyjammy · 3 months

Text

Angel’s Early Struggle

Can we talk about Angel being bothered by Sir Pentious being praised by Charlie? Because I don't think that's been talked about enough if at all.

Angel up to this point and well past episode two puts up a front. His persona empowers him, gives him a shield against his abuser, critics and even himself. Angel's self-imposed egocentrism gives him the opportunity to gain attention whether that be positive or negative. He wants to play the part of a self-assured, overly-sexual porn star because he knows that's how he has to be.

All of this we know already after episode four.

This skepticism and refusal to change is a byproduct of his negative self-image caused by his circumstances. Valentino has ruined Angel up to this point. He allows Angel to continue his self-destructive tendencies and isolated him to the point where his only friend was Cherri Bomb - someone who also enables him. Valentino does this all for his own benefit. Angel is a toy to him - one that makes him money. To Valentino, his feelings are non-existent, what matters is what he can get out of him, how much use Angel is to him.

Whether that be through physicality or being an entertaining plaything, Valentino doesn't care.

When Angel uses his persona, that pleases the person he spends the most time around. Valentino considers him worthy of the little bit of praise he will give before taking it away at the first opportunity. The inconsistent treatment Angel receives from Valentino is traumatic in itself, couple that with sexual and physical abuse and Angel is barely hanging on. Nobody can remain sane from that without having some way to cope.

After all of that mistreatment that solidified Angel's thought process, his fears and insecurities, he finds someone else who gives him attention with zero strings attached through Charlie. Angel is obviously skeptical at first, considering the things Valentino did to him. He knows Hell is unforgiving, that he had already made a mistake trusting a ruthless overlord, so it was a no brainer that he wouldn't trust Charlie, at least not right away.

So Angel emulates Valentino's behavior, he uses Charlie for a free place to stay with minimal intentions of trying to be redeemed. At any opportunity where Charlie doesn't have Angel under watch, he took the chance to do drugs, start fights, and simply revert back to the way he was when he was on his own. Angel does show some kind of remorse, unlike Valentino, before reigning himself back in to pretend he doesn't care.

Even in the pilot you could see the beginnings of character development in Angel. Not everything was as it seemed.

At this point, Angel has no reason to stop this behavior. This is Angel's rationalization: It's Hell, nobody else is going to try Charlie's plan, redemption doesn't exist, why try?

In this endeavor, Angel can't be considered a failure or disappointment. There aren't grave actions for falling short in the Hotel like there would be if he failed Valentino. There is no threat of physical harm, verbal or emotional abuse and manipulation. He may get yelled at by Vaggie and Charlie, but he had just met them, he doesn't care about their opinions or feelings to the point that it would viscerally affect him.

However, Charlie did whittle him down by being genuine. She cares for the hotel’s patrons and her plan for redemption. Charlie stays consistent in a way that Valentino doesn’t.

After a long night of filming, Angel gets to return to the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie are there and Angel stays unbelieving of her plans for redemption. After Alastor joins, Angel also has Nifty and Husk.

He doesn’t have to stew in his misery within the same vicinity as his abuser. He gets to have a distraction and a support system no matter how dysfunctional they may seem.

When Sir Pentious joins the hotel as a spy for the Vees, Angel has to compete for attention where he never had to. Sir Pentious is the patron of Charlie’s dreams. He appeals to her notion of instant conversion by obediently following her orders no matter how nonsensical or small.

Angel continues to put up the same front since it hasn't stopped working for him before. Charlie starts a group activity, Sir Pentious succeeds, and Angel says it's stupid.

Charlie has them act out a scene, Angel is critical of it and Sir Pentious plays the part perfectly.

Charlie freely gives him praise.

Angel has never received praise from Charlie up to this point. At least, nothing direct. Charlie would placate him, use language that wasn't insulting, but those comments weren't compliments.

They were meant to redirect, produce a productive conversation and ultimately help Charlie achieve her goal. She never checked in on Angel's well-being. With everything going on, she was so concerned with her plan that she didn't focus on anything else.

Angel doesn't make an event out of it. He states that he's leaving and when the attention is off him he doesn't try to bring it back.

There is simply defeat.

Angel doesn't process these feelings well. He momentarily considers the hotel just as bad as any place in Hell. He considers returning to Valentino. At least in the studio he's the center of attention, he is good at what he does. There is no need to think of ways to be better or earn redemption, he can be a degenerate and a sleazeball all he wants.

While he is certainly being used at least he is of use. He has a purpose and he isn't disregarded because he doesn't measure up. Angel has his part and he plays it well.

So there is that choice to return back to the studio until he is snapped out of his stupor by remembering his reality. There were good moments with Valentino, but those would never outweigh the bad and the downright horrible. The voicemails Valentino left him highlighted that too well.

Angel had no choice but to stay.

But where did that leave him? He felt like a disappointment. Charlie wouldn't see someone as broken as him worthy for redemption. Sir Pentious had that role and he was better in that department. Angel firmly believed that he couldn't change.

Valentino's hold on him remained strong in the earlier months of his departure. Angel struggled with this mindset of self-destruction. He continued to ruin opportunities for himself, but it was so deeply ingrained in him he couldn't stop himself.

So, he goes to cope. He wants to drown his misery away.

And through that he discovers Sir Pentious's true intentions. He wasn't this perfect patron taking Charlie's attention. Angel's skepticism was justified. He didn't have to be perfect nor did he have to try because Sir Pentious was in the same boat as him.

He prioritized his interests over redemption.

And I wish we could have seen the change with a few more episodes because there is no way this distrust faded in a day.

Knowing that there were months of development in between these moments clears up a few things, but it wasn't on screen so we're left to speculate.

Now, instead of being spiteful, Angel is back to acting as he would with anyone in the Hotel. Sir Pentious has been brought down off his pedestal, he didn't have pure intentions, his dreams of becoming a powerful overlord were crushed and he was cluelessly following an untested path to redemption because he had nowhere else to go.

Angel's attitude persists until Loser, Baby. This is the second moment where he realizes that Hell is shit and nobody is better than anyone, especially if they ended up here. Husk is there for Anthony, a guy who isn't putting on a front and just made a few shit decisions.

As the months go on and Angel only has to interact with Valentino in a business capacity, he gains confidence. There's a system in place that's benefitting him, he has friends and a reason for being.

He even goes as far as to defend his new friends - his faux family - against the biggest threat to his wellbeing.

He has hope for the future and I love that all of it was revealed in Season 1. All you have to do is pay attention.

#hazbin hotel #contextualizing #I just wanted to talk about Angel a little more #angel dust #valentino #charlie morningstar #sir Pentious #episode 2 #I love this show #in case you couldn't already tell #character study

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 2 months

Note

Going along with the Nikke train, because clearly ass. And because I like Exia.

Anyway, may I request Neon with an S/O who is just as trigger-happy as her? Two overly excitable people with weaponry makes me feel happy.

(Bonus points for S/O bringing a smol gun but it is almost the strongest thing in existence.)

(GoV: NIKKE) Neon's S/O being gun-crazed like her

Sounds like you need a Noisy Cricket. ...Does anyone even know what I'm referencing, or am I showing my age again?

Finally, Neon had someone who saw the light of overwhelming firepower!

It's no wonder to Counters why Neon fell in love with S/O, the moment they brought their own small armory, she had heart eyes upon first sight.

Much of Neon and S/O's free time consisted of going to the Firing Range to test out what kind of weapons and ammo could create the most devastating boom!

(Neon) "HAHAHAAAAA! YES! LOOK AT THE BULLETS TEAR THROUGH THE TARGET!"

(S/O) "RECOIL INJURIES, WHAT RECOIL INJURIES?! HAHA-"

Everyone watched in mild amusement and horror at S/O's arm getting brutally beaten as they tested out Neon's gun since she wanted to share her love for stronger guns.

Forgetting that S/O was human, and couldn't tank the recoil like a Nikke could.

(Anis) "...Commander, why did you think we needed to add a second Neon to the team?"

(Commander) sigh "Don't ask me, ask HQ..."

But what had piqued Neon's interest above all was S/O's weapon of choice for operations.

When the squad went to the surface, all of Counters carried their rifles, and even the Commander had a pistol for desperate measures.

Meanwhile, S/O had something even smaller than a pistol. It looked like a child's toy.

The squad paused as Neon made a noise that caught their attention, the other three watching their conversation from a distance.

Neon eyed S/O's "gun", one eye peering closely at it, making her scoff.

(Neon) "What the heck is that thing!? It looks so puny!"

(Anis) "That's what she sai-"

(Commander) "Anis, please."

(S/O) "What? It's my weapon!"

(Neon) "Weapon?! That can't even be called a pistol, your finger barely fits in!"

(Anis) "PFFFT-"

(Rapi) "Anis."

(Neon) "Come on, you're a believer of firepower like I am! What's that gun going to do, make laser noises until our enemies die of embarrassment?!"

(S/O) "It's not the size that matters, Neon!-"

(Anis) "OW! OH COME ON, THEY'RE MAKING IT TOO EASY-!"

(Neon) "It absolutely does! What caliber does that gun even fit, nerf darts?!"

(S/O) "...What's a nerf dart?"

(Neon) "Not sure, think it's some kind of old earth toy, but my point still stands!"

(S/O) "When we fight something, you'll see how valuable it is!"

(Neon) "Fine, prove me wrong!"

When combat finally broke out, S/O was the first one to take a shot.

With a single pull of their trigger, they were sent flying back as the shot vaporized an entire enemy patrol in a massive explosion.

(Neon) "WHA...HOW?! YOU NEED TO LET ME USE THAT!"

S/O poked their head out of the rubble, seemingly unharmed.

(S/O) "No way, you were mocking it earlier!"

(Rapi) "Sir, that more than likely alerted everything to our presence. We need to move-"

(Neon) "With a gun like that, we can take care of everything out here! Master, please give me authorization to-'

(Commander) "No. And S/O, you don't pull your weapon out until things get hairy, understood?"

The couple looked extremely disappointed.

(S/O & Neon) "Aaaawwww!"

(Anis) "I mean, they kinda have a point, Commander. That gun might as well be the world's smallest artillery cannon."

(Commander) "...Just how do you reload that thing?"

(S/O) "Honestly? I never needed to. It doesn't really run out, and I've been using this thing for a while-"

(Neon) "WHAT?! OH NOW YOU HAVE TO LET ME USE IT!"

#goddess of victory: nikke headcanons #goddess of victory: nikke x reader #goddess of victory: nikke imagines #neon nikke x reader #neon nikke #anis nikke #rapi nikke

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allmyocsarebritish · 2 months

Text

A passion for exploration

(Known in my notes as ahkaeology)

Pairing: Ahkmenrah X reader

Warnings(?): Grave robbing

A/N: okay okay I know it's really odd that a wednesday blog is now posting for natm but I went down a rabbit hole and I'm afraid I lost the entrance. History nerd has shown through well and truly :')

Also my first multi part fic :D

Title is courtesy of my mate Abi using AI

Ch 1

Grave robbing

Was desecrating the tombs of these once honoured, omnipotent kings of Egypt really something you were willing to do? Had the circumstances preceding the grave robbery been less bleak, the answer would have undoubtedly been an definitive no. These rulers commanded the uptmost respect in life, and here you were, excavating the only memory that remained. There wasn't a day that went by during your expedition in which guilt did not infiltrate your mind, suffocating your conscience and depriving you of any sleep, even before you came close to finding an ancient tomb. But it wasn't like you had any other choice.

Pushing down your gnawing feelings of dread, you trekked on through the Egyptian desert. Rough sand brushed against your lower legs beneath your simple, calf-length skirt, chafing at the skin. You were the only one of the troupe resigned to walking, as the youngest and the lowest class. Astride camels, the two men had a better view of the surrounding plains, though the blank, barren flats stretched on long beyond the horizon.

"The valley of the kings shan't be too far from this place" called Lord Carnarvon, map still in hand.

You held back a scoff, rolling your eyes as you knew he wasn't looking at you. If only he would admit none of you knew where you were going. The only clue you were given was that the gold rich landmark was announced by a grand pyramid at the end of a hollowed valley consisting of a multitude of others. What a shame that this was the Egyptian desert.

Filled with pyramids.

Days and days stretched on of travel, and eventually, you stopped counting the sunrises, resigning to the fact that this would only stop when the valley was found, however long that took.

As with most great things, the discovery of the valley occurred at a time when you least expected. You had taken advantage of a small oasis, resting for a few hours and permitting the camels an indulgent drink. Howard Carter dozed beside you, hat pulled low over his face, in order to shield his resting eyes from the blazing fire of the sun. Carnarvon had taken his liberty and ran off, or so you had hoped. No, in fact he was continuing the investigation alone and on foot, clutching a worn, shoddy map, which was twinged a grimey brown with years of filth accumulated around the edges of the paper. He never strayed far, though attempted to work out his bearings, using the wind or some pretentious bullshit you never bothered listening to. No, you were perfectly content drawing in the sand with a stick you had found and claimed an hour or so prior.

You were more than unimpressed when the sketches you had so tediously etched into the sand were scattered by Carnarvon sprinting back to the small camp. Jolted awake, Carter sat up sharply, alarm etched across his features.

"Blimey, good sir! You gave me quite the fright!" He exclaimed as you nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" You asked, though your eyes may have given away your disinterest (had either man been paying an ounce of attention).

"Shh!" Carnarvon interrupted your pleasant concern, to which you rolled your eyes and began attempting to recover your drawings. "Carter, good sir! I dare say I've found it. I've discovered the pyramid!"

A bold statement, and not the first time either. No, twice prior you had been dragged into the colossal ancient skyscrapers, only to find they were far from your true destination. Empty of any treasure or historical worth beyond the buildings themselves, you continued on, fruitless. Grand structures were quite an obvious goldmine, and previous grave robbers had left the tombs void of, well, anything.

Though of course, it was more than worth it to explore this fresh discovery, not taking any chances.

Time was of the essence, or so you were told. Camels saddled up in record time, you were hoisted up from your seat on the floor by Carter, borderline dragged up.

"Come, young Y/N, you heard his lordship. We may have found the Valley. Hurry on, now" his words were gentle, still treating you as he had done in your childhood, despite the fact you were now 19. It was something that you both appreciated and hated simultaneously. Howard was kind to you, much more so than Lord Carnarvon, who cared as little for you as you did for him. The mutual disinterested made for some long, awkward silences, and many threats to leave you in an unknown grave.

Still dragging you by the arm, Carter began to untie his camel, before finally letting go of you. The rush was honestly needless, you had been expeditioning for months at the least, what harm would a few mere minutes cause? But the men were adamant, and there was no arguing, especially not from a useless child as yourself.

"Can I at least keep my stick?"

Recieving no reply from Carnarvon and an incredulous stare from Carter, you concluded the answer was yes.

The journey from the oasis to the pyramid was shorter than anticipated, though still rather long. Another day passed, spent entirely wandering through the desert. Exhaustion washed over your entire body, and it was a war every minute to keep your eyes open. But, alas, you must continue, and eventually your trek drew to a close as with further examination, it became clear this pyramid was not what you were searching for.

Disappointment and rage filled Carnarvon upon the realisation that this was, in fact, not the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, but rather a singular, sandy pyramid. "Why, there must be some mistake!" He complained impetuantly, always one to shift blame elsewhere. You exchanged a look with Carter, who for once was willing to admit the incompetence of the troupe's leader. After all, what were the chances that a random pyramid would mark the infamous, esteemed valley?

From a distance it appeared mighty, though in fact that was more than likely a mirage caused by the monochromatic nature if the desert. Upon further examination, however, the pyramid was far from the grandeur anticipated by Carnarvon and Carter. Huge gashes and rifts in the brickwork jumped out from metres away. Crumbling brickwork was cratered, resembling a sponge with many holes, as dusty gravel avalanched down the sides of the architecture at every other interval. Overall it was worn and aged, therefore more likely to be looted and barren.

"I do say it's worth taking a look around, my lord." You spoke, addressing him clearly. Carnarvon waved his hand dismissively, wishing you out of his presence.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead child." Did you expect that? No. Did you need to be told twice? Also no. A small grin gracing your features, you took off into the pyramid.

Racing across the gravely surface of the desert, the sand provided a slight level of resistance. Nevertheless, you persevered onwards, stride refusing to falter. Basking in the glorious heat of the warm Egyptian sun's rays casting down on your face, you closed your eyes as you ran, chin tilted upwards. Naturally, this obscured your vision, rendering you blind, and therefore leading you to miss the gaping hole in the ground.

A short squeala of surprise passed your lips as you suddenly found yourself unexpectedly falling through the earth. The drop was rather long, and you landed in a heap on the floor of the dugout with a large thud. You weren't aware of how long you were unconscious, but judging by the severe lack of any source of light, sunset had passed. Pain shot through your body, coarsing through your veins and ricocheting off each of your bones in turn. Head pounding, you groaned slightly, trying to work out what in the hell just happened to you.

Darkness continued to fill the room, prompting you to fish within one of your pockets, pulling out a match and striking it aflame. The hidden chamber was large, that much you could tell even despite the dim lighting. Blinking twice as you began to, very slightly, register your surroundings, you noticed the sheer obscurity of this interior. You'd heard of the saying 'paintings that seemed to follow you around the room', but this gave a new meaning to those words.

No, wait.

Those paintings were moving, and not metaphorically. Eyes widening, you began to notice everything in the tomb writhing like a cluster of cobras. Onyx black cats prowled upon shelves, worn linen bandages slowly unfurling from being bound around each of their limbs. Animated drawings of men, deities and horses alike moved naturally, as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence. Shabti servants, the colour of oxidised copper and ranging from 5-30cm tall formed an army scattered throughout the tomb. Then, slowly, as though delaying the inevitable, your eyes trained upon it.

The sarcophagus.

Shuffling away rapidly, your back hit the decrepit wall of the hidden grave. The embodiment of terror plastered over your face, you watched in horror as the coffin began to violently shake. Your blood ran cold as bangs from the inside began to echo across the acoustic chamber. The rusted hinges were worn and flimsy, and the bolts began to unscrew from their holdings. Padlocks had become frail with ages and popped open, one almost smacking you square in the forehead, to which you responded with a short yelp. For a moment, all movement ceased, as though whatever was inside had begun to listen to the intruder in their grave. You took liberty of the fleeting moment, and began to craft a way out. The quiet was short lived, however, as, with one final, mighty heave, the final lock was broken.

The sarcophagus had been opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick and suffocating as you watched a wrapped hand emerge from the tomb. The coffin lid was ajar, though it didn't take much pushing to be removed almost entirely. Almost at once, the creatures residing in the grave marched forward, crowding their newly awoken master. Hidden in the shadows, you froze, hoping to remain unseen and ignored, and thus leaving unscathed. Soon enough Carter and Carnarvon were bound to find you?

Right?

A huge open grave couldn't be subtle, you only missed it as you eyes were closed. A stupid decision really, and you mentally cursed yourself.

You remained rooted to the spot on the freezing floor, as the reanimated corpse continued to rise from its grave. Surely this was an affect of your concussion; for all you knew this was just an unconscious dream. Besides, with all the travel in the desert, dehydration had undoubtedly left you delirious. It was at that split second of slight relaxation (if you could call it that) in which you spied the piles of treasure sloping at every corner of the tomb. What could you say - you were a grave robber. Carnarvon would be so proud - if you returned alive that was.

It began to claw at the ancient, frayed linen covering its face, causing your heart to race: it thumped so hard you swore you'd be given away. Praying you didn't go into cardiac arrest, you continued staring bug-eyed as the bandages unfurled in front of you, like the dramatic unveiling of an innovative new invention. Closing your eyes for the second time that day, you winced, raising your arms to shield your face from the horrors you were undoubtedly about to witness. Bile rose in your throat as your mouth drew dry. Images of rancid, rotting flesh peeling off bones flashed through your mind, prompting your whole body to tremble.

'I'm just delirious. Any moment now I'll open my eyes to be met with a chamber of riches.' You thought to yourself. Awoken mummies were the stuff of fairytales, and despite what Carnarvon and Carter believed, you were most certainly not a child.

Your internal monologue was cut short however, interrupted by the gentlest of touches placed on your arm. It prompted you to flinch away instantaneously, a soft whimper escaping. Eyes shooting open, you came face to face with the pharoah himself. And he was not what you had anticipated.

He wasn't the scary mummy you were expecting, he was a teenage kid.

Kind, cerulean eyes rimmed with a smoky black eyeliner stared into your own, azure oceans plagued with concern. Concern for you. Such a colour must have been pricelessly rare, sapphires amongst stones.

His golden, tanned hand had felt cold and lifeless against your arm, yet the heat it had radiated was electrifying, continuing to shoot jolts throughout your entire body. His skin was soft and smooth, betraying the fact that this royal had almost certainly never worked a day in his life.

Slightly unruly brown curls and a toned slender figure - he was actually rather cute.

"Are you alright? You seem a little... Lost?" He queried, to which you seemed unable to form a response.

"I- what.. who? What's going on?" You managed, stumbling over your words as your voice cracked slightly.

He gave a small smile, clearly sympathetic of your utter confusion, before gesturing at a golden tablet, as though that were supposed to help you in any way. Noting your expression of utter bewilderment, the undead Pharaoh elaborated.

"That's my tablet, blessed by Khonsu himself. It holds the power to awake the dead at night," he gestures to himself and the cats, who stared at you, blinking and unsure whether it would be safe for them to approach. Then, he pointed to the paintings in the walls and dragged his finger towards the mass of shabti dolls, both of which watched you with the same confusion. "Along with anything else resembling a life form that finds it's way into the presence of the tablet."

"Right." You answered, holding your head and still in shock.

"You needn't be afraid, you know. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thank you, that is a relief." You swallowed thickly.

He hummed in response, smiling with an amused frown at the fact you feared him.

"So, who exactly are you?" You asked after a short yet not uncomfortable silence.

His lavish outfit betrayed the royal status he claimed in life, only accentuated by the Red Crown, or Deshret supporting a golden snake - the symbol of monarchy- resting atop his sarcophagus. Around his neck fastened a Usekh collar, adorned with teal and umber jewels and beads, and topped with golden accents. Sleeves of cloth draped over his arms, the fibres of the fabric woven with pure gold. The metallic shine of the element was evident in the chromatic sheen of the cape resting over the Pharoah's shoulders. At his waist there hung a Shendyt kilt, fastened with a cloth belt, also elaborately decorated. Beautiful gold jewellery decorated his figure, your eyes drawn in particular to the stunning gold bracelet cuffs he supported on either wrist, encrusted with gemstones, potentially aquamarine or topaz. Once again your attention was drawn to his face.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And you are...?"

Stunned into silence for a moment by the regality of the ancient king before you, you blinked and paused briefly before answering.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"So, Y/N, what are you doing in my grave?" Ahkmenrah asked you, barely trying to surpress an amused smile. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to form a lie. This ruler seemed nice, and regardless, you couldn't exactly tell him you were intent on raiding his tomb for riches.

"It was an accident. Really, it was. I was running, and, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Why were you in the desert though? Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't appear to be Egyptian."

"What? Oh, no I'm not. I'm English. I came out in an expedition with two other men; Lord Carnarvon and Carter. They're archaeologists." You winced at the manufactured truth. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was what the men claimed to be. Though all your troupe really planned to accomplish was glorified tomb-raiding, a fact that made you sick.

"And they left you here?" Ahkmenrah questioned incredulously, unable to fathom why on earth they would abandon you like this.

"Well, no. Not exactly. They allowed me to go check out the pyramid about 10 yards south, but, as o said, I fell down a hole." You blushed again, this time due to your own stupidity and clumsiness. This was not how to earn the respect of an esteemed king.

Ahkmenrah frowned. "So how long have you been down here?"

"Uh. I don't actually know, I was unconscious for a short time. Or possibly a long time, that I'm not sure of either."

Concern once again crossed the young Pharoah's face. "You poor thing! Are you alright? You're not concussed, are you?"

"Probably." You shrugged, further alarming him.

The next few hours were spent talking to Ahk, discussing everything from the legal affairs of ancient Egypt to the cats that accompanied him in his tomb. Over the course of the night, the two of you had grown closer, both in terms of friendship and literal distance. Most of the other inhabitants of the grave had deemed you safe, returning to their regular routine, and the most curious of the mummified cats, an (aptly) Egyptian mau apparently named Tivali, had become rather taken to you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with you, and you slumped against Ahk's shoulder. Revelling in his presence, contentment washed over you as, for the first time on your quest, you relaxed, finally at ease. Perhaps it was delirium, but in your sleepy state you swore you felt his fingertips grace against your cheek, the ghost of his lips pressing gently against your temple.

"Sleep well, my dear."

#night at the museum #natm #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #rami malek #rami malek x reader #egypt #ancient egypt #history #egyptology #archaeology #natm fandom #natm fanfiction #natm fic #night at the museum fanfic #natm au #egyptian pharaoh

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mrwavellswaps · 10 months

Text

Aftermath of The Homo-Bomb (Jack)

(Make sure to read the ➡️ Prologue ⬅️ first!)

Having just left the apartment of one of the men affected by the homo bomb, Wavell closed his eyes and sensed the area. He was sensing specifically for human life signatures that’d been doused in his magic as those were the people that’d been affected in some way by his spell. The closest one seemed to be just a couple doors down from where he was. He walked along the corridor until he reached the apartment where the signature was coming from. Room 204. According to the information he’d pulled out of the Landlord’s memories, the resident that lived here was an older man in his mid 40’s, Jack Rivers.

The warlock gave a swift knock to the door, waiting a couple seconds before hearing the shuffling movement coming from behind. There was a small ‘kerchunk’ sound as the lock came undone before the door opened a crack. “Who are you? What do you want?” A voice asked from behind the door.

“My name is Christopher Wavell sir. I’m here gathering intel on the strange event that’s taken place in this town by interviewing those affected so we may be able to figure what exactly caused all this.” Of course Wavell was bending the truth a little but it was more fun that way. “I was wondering if I could come in and have a chat with you if that’s alright...” He looked down at a notepad he was holding before looking back up to seem more authentic. “Jack is it?”

The door opened a little wider, revealing a middle aged and very handsome man. He had a very rugged and raw masculine energy about him. He adorned a very thick and full beard but in exchange he seemed to be completely bald underneath that cap he was wearing. He wore a tight t-shirt which showed off his strong arms, both covered by a full sleeve of tattoos. He definitely had an ex-jock dad type of build. Very strong and firm muscle being consistent across his body which showed dedication to either the gym or hard labour while also deciding not to take his dieting as seriously as he used to resulting in a thick belly hidden beneath his shirt. Long story short, he was a total dream from anyone who liked hot hairy daddies.

“Yeah that’s my name…” Even his voice was deep and husky. “But that only happened last night. How do you already know about it?” Jack questioned, just as most other people Wavell had visited had.

The warlock gave Jack a warm smile as his eyes glowed purple. His smile seemed so reassuring. So inviting. So trustworthy. Making Jack feel as though he could trust this stranger with his life! “Don’t worry about that. All that matters is that you tell me your story so we can figure this all out.”

Jack didn’t hesitate after that. He opened the door wide and offered Wavell inside without a second thought. He asked Wavell if he could grab him a drink, offering beer, coffee, juice and whatever else he had. Wavell took a coffee which didn’t take Jack long to whip up before the burly man grabbed a couple beers for himself. Wavell couldn’t help but find it amusing to see this man who’d been so hesitant about him mere moments ago suddenly acting so friendly.

Once they were both settled in Jack’s living room, Wavell got right down to business. “Okay so I want to start by asking you to give me your name, age and occupation.”

Jack took a quick swig of his beer. “Well my full name is Jack Ivory Rivers, I’m 43 years old and I’m a carpenter. I work at the little shop down the street. You might’ve seen it”

“I actually did. Nice workplace you’ve got.” Wavell replied as he wrote down a few notes before looking up again and continuing his questions. “Now tell me, how would you describe yourself as a person?”

The burly man thought for a moment. “Well… I suppose some would say I’m stoic and a little headstrong but I take a lot of care and pride in the work I do. I like to make sure everything I make at my shop is to the highest standard it can be and that’s exactly what I promise everyone who wants to buy from me.”

“Yup, that’s perfect.” Wavell muttered, scribbling down a few more things before glancing up again with a small smirk. “Now the formalities are out of the way, time for the real questions.” His eyes glows that same deep purple as before, causing Jack's eyes to briefly glow as well as he fell deeper into the arms of Mr Wavell's alluring aura. “First I want you to tell me what’s changed about you. I can tell you’ve been affected by the recent events somehow just by the way you carry yourself. As if your very identity has been shaken. What did that purple mist do to you Jack?”

Jack shuffled lightly in his seat, seeming a little uncomfortable with the idea of unveiling what's happened to a total stranger… but he could trust Mr Wavell right? He just wants to help. He would never judge. “Well… okay I guess I’ll start from the beginning.” Jack took a deep breath and another swig of his beer before casting his mind back to the previous night.

“I was working late at my shop. Being a carpenter is my life you know. It’s what I love and always have loved. So much so that I frequently stay overnight to continue my projects. I’ve been told before that my love for the craft is obsessive, perhaps even unhealthy. Hell they’re probably right, it’s half the reason my marriage fell apart years ago. My now ex-wife thought I cared more about my work than I did her. But they just didn’t understand…” Jack took a large gulp of his beer, now halfway through the first bottle. “Mike though. He understood. So much so he spent almost as much time in the shop as I do.”

Wavell thought for a moment, scanning back through some of his notes from previous people he’d spoken to. “Mike huh? I don’t believe I’ve spoken to a ‘Mike’ who works in carpentry yet. Is he a work partner of yours? Your son perhaps?”

Jack chuckled a little. “No, he's my apprentice. I’ve been teaching him for a couple years now. He isn’t my son but at times I wished he was with the amount of passion he has. Always eager to learn more from me.”

“Can you describe Mike for me?” Wavell asked curiously before tasting his coffee, nodding a little in satisfaction after.

It was subtle but the warlock couldn’t help noticing the slight blush that crossed Jack’s face when he heard that question. He tried to hide it by downing the rest of his first beer before letting out a small belch. “S’cuse me.” He pardoned. “Well uhhh… sure I guess I could.” Jack gulped slightly while leaning back a little in his chair. “I suppose he’s a fine looking young man. 25 years old so he’s still very much in his prime. Quite short brown hair and usually has some stubble. He has these deep green eyes that I couldn’t stop staring at after…” He stopped himself before having to slightly readjust how he was sitting again. “He has a ummm… very nice body. Clearly works out a lot outside of work and it looks like it pays off. He has pretty large biceps like me and some great shoulders. He usually wears these tight t-shirts or tank tops that show off his pecs really well and…” as Jack continued to describe his youthful apprentice a tent began to pitch itself in his tan cargo shorts, growing larger by the second. Jack tried to hide it by discreetly placing a hand on his crotch but it was still so obvious. “…He usually wears shorts like me that show off his very well built lower body you know.”

“This Mike sounds like quite the stud doesn’t he?” Wavell couldn’t help teasing a little.

Jack doesn’t reply to the comment but the telling look on his face was all the agreement Wavell needed. Instead he popped open his second beer and continued his story. “Anyway. As I said, I stayed late last night. I told Mike he could head home but he said he’d rather keep working. I don’t usually fight him on it when he wants to work late with me. I’d be a hypocrite if I did. Plus the amount of dedication he has reminds me so much of myself.” He drinks again as he prepares for the next part. “But then as the two of us were working, there was some kind of silent explosion outside. We looked out of the windows to see a massive cloud of purple smoke quickly making its way over the town.”

Wavell another took a sip of coffee. He’d already heard so many variations of this part from people that’d been awake when he threw the Homo-Bomb. “And what happened after that?”

The burly man hesitated for a second but once again the calming aura of the handsome silver haired man before him gave him the encouragement he needed. “Before we knew it the mist was seeping its way into the shop. Coming in from any entrance it could find. Under the doors, through any open windows. And once it was inside it felt as though it followed me and Mike wherever we went until we had nowhere left to go…” Jack took a large sip of his second beer. “I remember we were back to back when it surrounded us. It was like it was forcing itself into our lungs. Invading our bodies almost. And it didn’t just enter through our mouths either. It felt as though it entered through every entrance it could find on our bodies. Even my asshole! Part of me thought I was gonna die for a moment but… I didn’t. I just felt frozen in place for a good few minutes as I breathed in the mist until finally it dispersed.” Jack stopped. He knew what came after that but could he really share that…

“And what did it do to you Jack?” Wavell pried. “You can tell me anything. You can tell me everything. In detail. I want to hear it Jack and I know you’re just dying to tell me as well.” Wavell’s words ironed themselves onto Jack’s subconscious, pressing so deep until they became his truth. He wanted to tell Wavell what happened next. He wanted to so badly!

“The first thing I did was turn around to see if Mike was okay but the moment I did I felt something I’d never felt before. Mike was… gorgeous. Everything about him was hot. The way his muscles pressed against his clothes. How young and handsome his face was. How he just had this masculine air about him despite being so youthful at the same time. God just looking at him made me feel so hot and horny. Hornier than I’ve felt in years!” By this point Jack wasn’t even using his spare hand to cover his crotch anymore but rather to rub his ever growing erection through his shorts. “It didn’t make any sense to me. I’d been completely straight my whole life. I’d never even so much as looked at a guy sexually before last night. Hell, back in college they used to call me the pussy destroyer! Not just because of how many chicks I pulled but also for how most of them couldn’t handle how big my cock is… But now I can’t even get hard for women!” He shouted, spilling some beer down his shirt.

By this point Wavell was having to hide his own growing erection just hearing about all this. “So, if I may pry a little further, what happened between you and Mike after this event took place. Did you simply go home?”

Jack’s eyes darted away for a moment, hardly being able to look at the man sitting before him. “N-no. Not exactly.” Ordinary he wouldn’t have dreamed of divulging any further to anyone else. And yet… “The more I looked at him, the harder my dick got. I just couldn’t bring myself to look away either. And I could tell by the way he looked back at me and by the growing bulge in his shorts as well that he must’ve been feeling the same thing. It was like there was an invisible force pulling us together in so many ways. Before I knew it my face was inches away from his as we stared into each other's eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything more intimate. And then… we kissed.” Jack’s mind rushed back to that very memory, recounting it in great detail. Remembering how it felt to press his own bearded lips against Mike’s. Remembering just how good and right it felt in that moment. “I placed a hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer and as he did I remember feeling his hands run across my body. One rubbing along my back while the other grabbed at my chest…” The erection in his shorts was painfully hard as he imagined himself back in that very moment.

“I don’t mind if you want to get your cock out and jerk a little Jack. If you’ll be more comfortable that way of course.” Wavell suggested devilishly.

Jack didn’t think twice about it. The moment Wavell made the suggestion he whipped his cock out and started jerking it as he continued his story. It was huge and thick. Probably one of the biggest Wavell had seen on a natural man. Hell it rivaled his own cock! “I have no idea how long we made out. I was just so drawn in by Mike and everything about him. Soon I started groping his body just like he was groping mine. Grabbing at his muscles, his ass and even his crotch. I never would’ve done something like that in a million years before now. Don’t get me wrong Mr Wavell, I have nothing against the gays. I have tons of friends that are gay!… but I ain’t a homo! And Mike isn’t either! He was always telling me about the different girls he’d slept with… Neither of us are gay… or at least we weren’t.” He glanced down, watching himself jerk off to his apprentice before taking another large gulp of beer followed by another belch.

There was a slight pause as Jack gathered his thoughts, allowing Wavell a moment to drink some more coffee before picking his notepad back up. “Keep going Jack. This is good.”

“Well… next thing I knew we were taking off each other’s clothes until we were completely naked. Cocks touching and everything. I told him how much I loved his young, muscular body and he told me how much of a hot daddy I was with how hairy and strong I was.” He blushed a little, more obviously this time, as he remembered to compliment. “We kept saying things like that back and forth between kissing and feeling each other up. And eventually I realised something. I wanted him. I wanted Mike so badly. And so I took his hand and guided him to the back room where I sometimes slept after pulling all nighters.” He was jerking off furiously now, his thick giant daddy cock just barely contained by his hand..

“And what did the two of you do in the back room Jack”

The hairy man bit his lip slightly before continuing. “We uhh… we… we fucked!” He admitted, much to the warlock's delight. “M-my first instinct was to fuck him. To throw him on the couch-bed and slam my cock inside him. But before I even had a chance Mike turned me around, knelt down, and shoved his face into my ass! He dug his tongue deep into and around my hole while telling me that he loved how hairy and juicy my ass was. Mmmhh god! Why did it feel so gooood!” Jack grunted a little as he squirted a little precum at the memory. “After that he was the one tossing me on the couch-bed, face down so he could keep worshipping my ass. My hole just felt so needy and he was the only thing that could satisfy it…” He kept going, taking yet another swig of beer. “After that he began slowly kissing his way up my back until his lips reached my neck. As they did I felt his dick slide between my cheeks, practically rubbing against my hole. His dick isn’t as big as mine but it was big enough. Around 6 inches maybe?”

“Wow. You must’ve really enjoyed yourself last night to remember all these details.”

Once again Jack was too embarrassed to reply. Instead finishing off the rest of his second beer before tossing the bottle to the side so he could focus on his dick and the story. “At first I was a little worried. I’d never even considered putting anything up my ass before so the idea of having a dick shoved up there was daunting. But at the same time so damn hot! And so despite my worries it didn’t take long for me to start begging Mike to fuck me. To shove that young cock of his inside my hairy dad ass… fuck.”

“And did he?”

“Oh fuck yeah he did. He lubed himself up with some spit and the next thing I know I feel the tip of dick pressing inside me. I expected it to be extremely painful, or least rather sore, but I felt nothing but pure pleasure. It was like my asshole just opened up to him, as if it’d been waiting for a dick to fill it all my life.” Jack hardly paid any mind to the stream of precum flowing from the tip of his cock, coating his hand. “You know all my life I’d been the one dominating women in bed. But now, I was the one having my face pressed into the cushion below as another man slammed his cock inside me. A man I’d been teaching for years. A man who’s 18 years my junior dominating me in every sense. And I loved it. The feeling of his dick sliding in and out of my ass like it belonged. The feeling of his balls smacking against me. Even the way he told me how sexy I was as he destroyed my hole.”

By this point Wavell wasn’t even bothering to hide his own arousal anymore, having unzipped his pants and slowing his own fat cock to spring out. He gave it a light stroke between writing notes. “You know I wouldn’t have taken such a manly guy like yourself to be a submissive bottom Jack. Guess it just goes to show we shouldn’t judge by appearance.” Wavell added with a smirk. “Anyway, please continue”

“There isn’t whole lot left to say… he fucked my brains out and I loved every second of it. He kept saying I was his hot hairy daddy now and all I could do was moan. I think he meant in a way like he owned me or something. He just kept fucking me and fucking me. Then at some point he got me to turn over and put my legs over his shoulders so we could look at each other. After that it wasn’t long before he let out a deep guttural moan, the kind I’d never heard from him. Then I felt it. His load filling me up and breeding my ass for the first time. In that moment it was like a switch flipped in my mind and suddenly I blew a load all over myself. Some of it even shot up onto my face and in my beard.” Jack seemed as though he was trying his best not to blow another load right here and now as he described it. “After that we were both so exhausted that we ended up cuddling together and falling asleep at the shop. I only got home a couple hours before you arrived…”

Wavell scribbled down a few more notes before looking back up at Jack again. “Wow. That's quite the story you’ve got there Jack. I think it’s fair for me to assume that your sexuality seems to have been altered by the mist but I wanted to ask if you’ve noticed anything else. Like any other mental or physical changes about yourself since last night?”

The husky man stopped jerking for a moment to think. “Uhhh… I don’t think so. I still feel like myself… except I just can’t stop thinking about dick now.” His eyes then settled on Wavell’s exposed cock. Never having seen another cock anywhere near the same size as his own.

“Well then I suppose it’s safe to say that you’re a common case Mr Rivers. The majority of formerly straight men like yourself have reported no longer feeling anything towards women and instead feeling elevated levels of sexual attraction for other men.” Wavell confirmed… except Jack didn’t seem to hear a word he said. Instead the hairy daddy could only focus on the giant cock between Wavell’s legs. “Jack, if I may ask, are you attracted to me as well.”

Not being capable of lying to the warlock, Jack answered truthfully. “Y-yes!” He admitted, jerking himself again to Wavell. “I’ve been trying to ignore it but since the moment I opened the door I’ve wanted to kiss you. And your cock it’s just so… fuuuck.”

Wavell’s expression turned playful. Without a word he beckoned Jack to come closer. The bear of a man did so without a second thought, practically leaping out of his chair. Once he stood before Wavell, the warlock once again beckoned him to lean down, to get even closer. Jack complied until their faces were almost touching. Then, with a gentle smile, Wavell leant forwards a little and kissed the newly gay daddy. Wavell’s short, groomed beard colliding with Jack’s thick and slightly bushy one. This kiss must’ve lasted a good 10 seconds or so before Wavell pulled them apart. “There. Wish granted.” He chuckled. “Now I do have one little thing I want to give you which might help… but it’ll cost ya.” Seemingly out of thin air Wavell summoned a small pill. “This pill will help make some adjustments to fit your new situation. Buuut if you want it then you’ll have to suck me off.” Wavell might’ve been a bit more classy when he was in this form but that didn’t stop him from being a perv from time to time.

Some might’ve taken a moment to think about it but not Jack. He was on his knees in seconds before trying to swallow every inch of Wavell’s giant cock, wrapping his bearded lips around as much of it as possible. As Jack had already found out, the magic had actually done slightly more than just make him gay. It’d also loosened his asshole and reduced his gag reflex. Despite that Jack still found himself sputtering a little as he tried to take all of Wavell. As he did Wavell couldn’t help holding the other man’s head down, enjoying every second. Jack sucked him off vigorously, using his tongue, lips and hands perfectly to give as much pleasure as possible. It was almost hard to believe he used to be a straight man before all this. Now all he wanted was to suck dick have his hairy ass bred with as much cum as could be stuffed up there. Wavell couldn’t help but notice how Jack arched his back slightly, showing off said hairy ass a little in hopes Wavell would fuck him no doubt. He considered it but decided to focus on his ‘interviews’ for now. Maybe he’d come back for a visit sometime though…

After a while Jack seemed to adjust to Wavell’s cock and had no problem taking the entire length down his throat. He sucked it happily as if it were something he was always born to do. Being a slutty cock sucking daddy. The more he thought about it, the more passion he put into the blowjob. Servicing the dick before like nothing else mattered. He’d tuned out from the world around him so much that he didn’t even register Wavell’s groans until Jack felt a flood of thick cum pouring down his throat. The taste was nothing short of divine. He made sure to suck out every last drop before pulling off and falling onto his back. He used both hands to jack his cock furiously while savouring the taste of Wavell’s load until he busted his nut all over himself once again.

As Jack was blowing his load, Wavell had already tucked his dick away and zipped up his pants. “Welp, I suppose I owe you this.” He placed the pill on the small coffee table next to his empty cup. He waited a few moments for Jack to refocus before explaining. “It’s a magic pill I designed. It’s capable of swapping the cocks of two men. All you have to do is break it half, you take one half and the other guy you’re swapping with takes the other. I suggest you bring it up to Mike the next time you see him. After all I’m sure you’re curious what it might feel like to have that monster dick of yours inside you.”

Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing and yet he couldn’t help believing it. A pill that would allow him to swap dicks with Mike? He glanced down at the softening cock between his legs. It’d always been a huge source of pride for him knowing how giant it was… but just the thought of Mike swinging it between his legs instead sounded so hot. Maybe it was the right thing to do. After all he couldn’t see himself ever being a top again now he’d gotten a taste for bottoming so maybe he didn’t deserve a cock this big if he wasn’t gonna use it properly…

“I’ll leave you to think about it. For now I’ve got some more people to interview for my research. I hope things between you and Mike go well though. Perhaps I’ll come back some time to see how you’re getting.” With that though Wavell said his goodbyes to which Jack was only just able to reciprocate in the cum-covered state he was in.

The warlock stepped outside of the apartment and took a deep breath with a satisfied smile knowing he took plenty of notes and had fun doing it. “Alright. Who’s next.”

If you love my stories then please consider supporting me on Patreon as well!! ❤️

#homo bomb #mr wavell #straight to gay #mental change #sexuality change #hairy #dad #daddy #beard #jock #magic #permanent

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oneatlatime · 7 months

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Zuko Alone

I'm hoping for some Appa this episode. It's been too long since he's gotten any good sight gags.

Zuko is cosplaying Clint Eastwood. He's also back to being stupid pale this episode.

You know it's a good thing that Zuko's not in the Fire Nation anymore because he really would have sucked at being Fire Nation. Robbing pregnant women is probably kindergarden level stuff for them.

How is Zuko in such bad shape? Last time we saw him he had a cave full of spoils robbed from rich people. Did he not bother to pack at least some of that stuff? Actually, not thinking far enough ahead to pack would be pretty in character.

Oof that would rub me the wrong way. Not enough money for a meal, but sure, let's use totally edible eggs as ammo.

Where'd the egg go?

Who is the scarred up hat wearing vampire and what happened to the real Zuko? Imposter Zuko just elected to not be provoked into a fight. Real Zuko would already be setting things on fire.

Just a bunch of thugs. Yep. It's consistently awesome how many of the facets of war this show can cover.

Imposter Zuko and Song's horse bird just got kidnapped. Did not see that coming.

Zuko kind of has arm bandages like Sokka has this episode. Also love the character detail that the boy has scraped knees.

Is the kid's dad the same guy as the man at the store? Or maybe this is a one haircut town?

So the guy who was near to fainting off his horse bird this morning is now turning down freely offered food? Could Zuko please shelve his pride for five minutes? Kudos to the mom for accurately reading his distaste for charity and turning it into a request for aid though. Although covering for the boy's egg trick is worth at least a meal.

Tangent!

I don't get Zuko. How can he still have so much pride when he's wearing rags and starving himself to feed Song's horse bird? I'm quite shameless when it comes to accepting help and I've never, ever been able to understand the whole 'too proud to accept charity' mindset. I'm always up for some charity. I have enough manners to offer to do the dishes after, but if you're offering free food I'm eating it. And I've never been in a situation as desperate as Zuko's. So I don't get this.

ok tangent over.

Peak rich kid behaviour. I hope those nails aren't expensive otherwise Zuko doing work for food might end up with this family out of pocket.

Is the wood grain on this ladder an actual photograph of wood grain?

Zuko has more patience this episode than he had for all of season 1 combined. He's also never gone this long without yelling. Either proximity to young children activates Zuko's otherwise mostly slumbering decency, or to fit him into a Fistful of Dollars homage the writers had to make him out of character.

If I had been in this situation when I was a kid, if I had been a) this visibly bored, and b) this nosy around guests, I would have been given a hammer and a bag of nails in three seconds flat. Also, nice to see a Sokka face from Zuko.

I get that 'a man without a past' is a staple of the cowboy genre, but the boy's father bringing up the privacy of the past twice in like two minutes makes me think he's done stuff he doesn't want to talk about. Seems both the parents have read Zuko right though.

Finally! Some pretty! I have been suffering! This may be the first really good pretty all season!

Bad news for the Appa decor on my blog. He may have been supplanted in my affections.

Two things: first, Zuko is a carbon copy of his mom. Second, That is way too much forehead.

Having Zuko's mom introduce herself by talking about the lengths mothers will go to for their children is not giving me foreshadowing anxiety at all.

Azula's been a bitch since birth. Noted.

Sir, your eyebrows. Also, yeah, I wouldn't want to play with her either.

Yikes this is making my teeth itch and my skin crawl. Calling it now, she's rotten to the core.

Zuko and Azula's dad has some weak ass genes. BOTH of his children are carbon copies of their mom.

Also, I was not expecting Zuko's very stupid ponytail to be a pre-scar thing. It is much better with a full head of hair.

If I had spent my childhood hanging out with an untouchable princess who set things on my head on fire for fun whenever I involuntarily displayed emotion, I'd be gloomy and apathetic in self defense too.

Sokka in this episode in spirit, if not in person.

Seriously that's the same face three times over!

Um, no? If Iroh doesn't make it back from the front, doesn't his son become next in line to be Firelord?

Can you hear all the unspoken "father thinks that" and "father says that" in front of every one of Azula's opinions in this whole scene? I stand by my assertion that she's awful anyways, but she's also obviously drunk much too much of her dad's koolaid, if you know what I mean.

This kid is going to get into so much trouble one of these days. Provoking the soldiers, nagging the mysterious stranger with the mysterious past, and now taking his weapons? Kid's sweet but he really needs to learn when to stop pushing his luck.

Stabbing dead, dried wood sounds like a great way to utterly annihilate the edge on those. Hope Zuko packed a whetstone.

Where is this patience coming from? I don't understand and it's BUGGING me.

Hold on. Technical problems.

My very basic DVD player sometimes has difficulty with these disks. Whatever happened between the above two screenshots, I've missed it. So picking back up from the one on the right...

Either these soldiers are impressively cowardly (which, yeah) or Zuko's really been working on his death glare, because they've got him outnumbered and out-armoured and they still back off.

OH it's parallels! Zuko's cousin and the boy's older brother. Got it. Kind of a false parallel though. Grandson of the Firelord does not equal earth kingdom conscript.

Give the demonstrably impulsive and nosy child a knife. That'll work out just fine I'm sure. Pretty sad the kid glommed on to Zuko so quickly, but it's also yet another realistic representation of the consequences of war. This show's good.

*shudders* theatre kids.

She's tiny! Do you know how darkly humourous it is to watch a two foot tall baby spout her father's murderous nonsense? Once again, in this whole scene, not a word out of Azula's mouth is actually Azula's.

"What is wrong with that child?" Apart from budding homicidal and psychopathic tendencies? Her dad. Her dad is what's wrong with that child.

Their dad has no subtlety at all. And also no brain? You think a day after the firelord finds out one of his family died is the right time to very boorishly make a play for the crown with you daughter as a prop? Could you possibly come up with a better demonstration of why this guy shouldn't be in charge?

How did this asshole land such a nice wife?

Yep. Siding with the old firelord on this one.

Does flashback Zuko sleep in his day clothes? Because that's not ok.

I like that their mom sees straight through Azula's lying here. She knows her daughter.

In a move that should surprise no one, everything Zuko touches turns to shit, as usual.

It's the Mexico filter!

Absolute truth from Zuko in that monologue. He's got them pegged. Too bad it fell on deaf ears. It's Zuko's curse, that whenever he approaches being remotely reasonable, he happens to be surrounded by people who will react in such a way that Zuko learns to equate being reasonable with failure.

An earthbender. The bare feet should have clued me in.

Last season Zuko and Iroh laid waste to like ten of these guys. And Iroh didn't even have pants. So what gives? Is he that starved?

Ursa pulling a Mufasa.

Don't answer don't answer don't answer

And he does.

Zuko is so very good at completely misinterpreting the point.

So we can add thief to the list of things that make Azula awful. Also that delivery of "who's going to make me? Mom?" is chilling. Zuko's lost his only defender inside this atrocious family and she knows it, he knows it, hell the turtleducks probably know it.

His dying wish? You guys buying that?

Ozai. That's his name. I'd forgotten that.

So... something something dead firelord something something missing mom something something maybe Azula wasn't actually lying this time?

Final Thoughts

The title wasn't kidding. Let's rename the show 'Avatar: the Guy who's Really Bad at Capturing Him' while we're at it.

There is now no way whatsoever that Zuko is not going to be redeemed. No writing team would invest that much energy and a whole episode into a character we're not ultimately supposed to root for. So somehow he's going to end up joining the Gaang. Don't know how he'll pull that one off. He's done some pretty not great stuff. And it's not like the Gaang watched this episode and unlocked his tragic backstory.

Speaking of, what prompted these reflections? I could understand if Zuko started to contemplate his cousin and the events surrounding his loss in the war after he learned about the family's older brother, but he was having flashbacks before he even got to town. Usually when there are backstory bits, there's a good reason to show them at that time, like how the Storm prompts Aang to think about the last storm he was in, or seeing a boat from his father's fleet prompts Sokka to remember what his dad told him. So what caused Zuko's memories to give him situationally appropriate flashbacks?

Pretty funny that he found the Nice Earth Kingdom Family that Azula predicted for him. And they are really nice! Either Zuko is an open book or the parents' social intelligence is off the charts because they're giving him exactly what he needs to feel at ease after barely a single conversation.

Speaking of Azula, I'm not surprised to find that she's always had deeply awful tendencies, even as a child of (I'm guessing) less than ten. But it cannot be ignored that, from the moment her father took a liking to her (as a tool to boost his own greatness, if not as a person), she didn't stand a chance. You can tell by the number of times that the stuff coming out of her mouth is a thinly veiled repetition of her father's unfiltered opinions, that she's been spending lots of time listening to him, probably while he puts down her mom and brother and talks about how she's the special one. You know what I'm getting at. Azula never stood a chance once her father got involved, and her mom lost the ability to influence her once her father started giving Azula praise for objectively wrong behaviour. That being said, Azula is awful even when she doesn't need to be awful for her father's approval, like when she's with her friends, so it's not all her father's doing. She's not a good person but she also had plenty of help to become that.

I guess Zuko and his mom are Fire Nation anomalies? And maybe Iroh has become that since his son died and he lost the war?

How on earth did Zuko survive as long as he did in the palace without his mom to protect him? What a no-win situation to be in. The only person in a whole nation with empathy.

This episode does makes Season 1 Zuko make more sense. He's been larping his dad as a defense mechanism for surviving the Fire Nation/probably a very futile effort to earn his approval. Although Zuko doesn't seem to care much for his dad if the tone he takes with him by the turtleduck pond is any indication.

Being banished was the best thing that ever happened to Zuko. The more distance between him and his remaining non-uncle family, the better. Between prioritizing his crew over capturing the avatar in the Storm, releasing the Avatar in the Blue Spirit, and now defending a random earth kingdom child this episode, it's hilarious how much Zuko HASN'T learned the lesson that Ozai banished him for not knowing. Don't get me wrong; that's a good thing. This episode plainly shows that behaviour that pleases Ozai is behaviour that should be unlearned as quickly as possible.

Zuko completely missing the point of his mom's last instruction is delightfully on the nose. But it also makes sense, which I may talk more about later.

How did Zuko hold on to his temper (and his volume) for a whole episode?

How did a show named after the main character get away with an episode that doesn't feature him at all? As a concept, this is such a strange episode. The writers were like "how can we kick start the woobification of Zuko? I know! A Spaghetti Western!" and it worked. Who comes up with that?

I now want at least as much, if not more, of Sokka and Katara's childhood via flashbacks. And more Gyatso please. If they can devote a whole episode to the childhood of a guy who isn't even a team member yet, they can show me some Sokka childhood shenanigans as a palette cleanser.

I really don't know what conclusion to draw about this episode. The writers have given me a massive backstory/trauma dump and I'm honestly like:

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #zuko alone #I really don't know what to make of this one

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shortpplfedup · 6 months

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Only Friends Character Rankings Episode 12

And that's all she wrote friends! And how she wrote it was...weird? The show definitely pulled some punches at the end there, trying to thread a needle and ending instead in a kind of wishy-washy damp squib. The couples landed up right, but in the wrong way? Guu mai chorp. But these hoes still need their final sorting. Nick led the pack going into the finale, will he end up on top at the end? Only the mains this week in my final rankings, but first...

⭐A1. FUCKIN' MIX!

Then…can I be your friend too?

I'm sorry I can't hear y'all over my screams at the MESS Minx Mix looks set to cause. That man is too pretty to be allowed in public. I WANT IT JOJO, I WANT IT NOW!

🔻🔻🔻Z∞. Boeing (8)

I just happen to want something strong tonight.

In the end, Boeing is just a lonelyboy like all the rest of them, which is fine, but he also just...disappears after the Ray/Mew Voltron vanquishes him and he gets a consolation makeout from Boston, which is not. Anyway, Mond is a good actor, also he's hot and got to kiss a bunch of boys, so winning.

Top tier show sidepieces: Yo, Plug, Summer, Freddie Mercury 2, Sand's Mom, Ray's Dad, Daddy Dan, April, Mew's Moms (barely)

These characters were mostly on the side of the angels, and I thank them for their service.

Bottom bitches: Cheum, Atom, Gap

Yeah they apologised, but fuck em.

Onto our main six!

🔺1. Boston (2)

I'm friendless.

In the end, Boston's at the top of my mains pile, because MY MANS DESERVED BETTER. Not in terms of Nick, I think that actually ended the absolute best way: Boston made his case, Nick made his decision, and they parted more or less as friends (and I loved absolutely every conversation those two had in this episode). No I mean in terms of his shitty friends, especially MEW. Cheum at least apologised, even if perfunctorily, and he apologised for sleeping with Atom (yeah, he really shouldn't have done that). He and Ray let the water wash under their particular bridge, and seem set to be cool. They never really had much in the way of beef to be fair. But Mew...actually you know what, good. Some people you don't need to be friends with, especially people who are gonna judge you and try to make you feel shitty about yourself. The narrative leaves Boston literally alone at the end though, legit the last time we see him is sitting on the curb with tears in his eyes as Nick walks away. Thanks, I hate it. I hope New York is better to Boston, and I hope he continues to learn and grow and tackle those impulse control problems.

🔻2. Nick (1)

You should go back to living a fun and sassy life that you prefer instead of trying to please a daydreaming guy like me.

YOU COULD HAVE ACCEPTED THE GODDAMN PHOTO NICKYBOY. I mean I get why not, but justice for my mans. Anyway, Nick's legit my second fave main here, as he grapples with the in-your-face realities of Boston's separation of love and sex, and decides he can't handle it. And that's good, that he loves Boston enough not to judge him, and loves himself enough not to put himself through something he knows he doesn't want. Every single choice and every conversation these two have had since Nick apologised has been nothing less than stellar, and that's because Nick took accountability and chose honesty. Well done baby boy.

🔺3. Sand (5)

You're right. When I love someone, I become a dog. But at least my owner loves me.

Pathetic to the very end, consistency thy name is Sand. He could have at least thrown his bussy into that threesome, but nooooooo, he got jealous IN TWO DIRECTIONS AT ONCE 🤣. He's fine with both boys slangin the dick his way, but calls a halt when they leave him out? Sir that's when you stand back and admire. Sand's pick-me ass ain't never gonna be my absolute fave, but his self-awareness and humiliation kink work together to be kind of endearing in a guileless sort of way, and at least he's learned to take the money if he's going to accept the ownership. It's sweet in a weird kink way. Also, his and Nick's loser friendship pushes him several points higher up the scale. There's growth and acceptance there, and he's 21 so I'll let him have it.

🔺4. Ray (7)

You still love him so I dragged him here for you. But I wanted to join just a little.

Well when he's not drunk night and day Ray's still a rich asshole, but he's a ton more fun. I love that he knows the kids at community service don't like him🤣. I spot rehab therapy working on him a bit. That threesome set up was WILD, and I personally had a good time with it, but it's probably best that it led to talking rather than fucking. Ray's got a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG way to go, but at least he treats Boston like a human being (I AM SO BITTER AND I'M NOT GETTING OVER IT). He's never gonna clock Mew's shittiness (BITTERNESS ACCELERATING) but you win some, you lose some. By the way sir, don't listen to Sand, he absolutely will be your sugar baby if you beg a little.

🔻5. Top (4)

Because I have you, everything is fine.

Top's smugness was the single most genuine thing about him, so I actually quite enjoyed watching him be a smug motherfucker this ep as he gets everything he thinks he wants. You know what I enjoyed more though? Watching his soul leave his body when Minx!Mix walked into the hostel and laser-targeted Mew. Mew putting Top through hell is legit my favourite flavour of their weird little fucked up relationship, and I'm sorry I won't get to see Mew eventually fall for Mix (you KNOW he wants to top somebody, YOU KNOW IT) and Top cry about it while he screws a bellboy in a service closet.

🔹6. Mew (6)

Are you about to say "But you're my last, Mew"? If so, I'm going to go puke in the bathroom.

OK, that line was funny, but jeez what a prig. What a sanctimonious nag. What a judgy little hypocrite. In his own conception he 'won' but Mew's the biggest loser in my heart. No he didn't have to forgive Boston, but come on, he could've kept it cute OR kept it moving full speed instead of the fake nicey nicey only to stick the knife in after. It's good that he walks away from Boston in the end, because with friends like Mew you don't need enemies. He makes Ray worse. And he and Cheum form the feedback loop from hell. Bookie sold the fuck out of this character, I have nothing but praise for him, but Mew is the living worst. I won't mention the character he reminds me most of in all of fiction, but if you're a certain age and you think about it a little, you can probably guess.

#only friends the series #bless this mess #only friends weekly character rankings #i support gay wrongs #only friends #only friends series #bl meta series

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lksvi · 11 months

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all we are is skin and bone (trained to get along)

𝆹⭒ vendetta!leon kennedy x bartender!gn!reader

⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ synopsis — your favorite regular has more to him than you thought. after getting involved, you go through a series of events.

𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ content — flirty leon at the beginning, vendetta leon is my favorite, alcoholism, motorcycle rider leon, reader gets referred to as bridesmaid/wears a bridesmaids dress for one scene, rebecca chambers my beloved, follows the plot of re: vendetta, probably has plot holes, not proofread, chris redfield, mostly plot, mentions of death

⏜ ‎ ◯𝆹⭒ word count — 7k

𝆹⭒◯ ⏜ note — i love vendetta leon!!!!! he is the best leon idc. he may be 40 & an alcoholic but idc HES HOT!!!! ok enjoy 7k words of plot. there might be a part 2 if this does good. also the summary is literally terrible pls ignore. also x2 my first time writing for leon please be nice <3333

𝆹⭒ masterlist

Usual Saturday nights consisted of beer, drunk men, and the football channel turned to the maximum volume on the little television in the corner of the bar. The customers demanded for football to be on whenever it was late at night, one too many beers causing their yelling to be slurred and their mouths to be slicked with spit. It was a gross sight, in all honesty.

It was your normal, though. Saturday nights were when you worked at the bar, mixing drinks and making conversation with drunk customers. They were nice when they’re yelling at you. Some made good conversation, while others were simply good to look at.

One of those being a regular at your bar, a man who goes by Leon.

He’s one of the people you notice whenever you come in for your shift. He always sits at the bar by himself, a shot glass in front of him and his back hunched over. He’s attractive, admittedly so, but you’ve never spoken to him beyond the regular bartender-customer conversation. He doesn’t seem to be a man of many words anyhow.

Hearing him talk was rare. Since he was a regular, and got the same bottle of alcohol every time he came in, all of the bartenders knew to give it to him when he sat down. He always had a way to pay for it: A sleek black card in his leather wallet. Often you wondered how he got all the money to pay for this every night. Spending nearly a hundred dollars on alcohol every night didn’t seem to be making a dent in his credit card.

You’d have to ask him what he does for a living.

“Hey, sweet cheeks!” A drunk man at the bar slurred, eyes hazy and a lopsided grin on his face. “Gimme another shot, will ya’?” You wanted nothing more than to scold him on his lack of manners, but you were past that already. You’ve had worse encounters with customers than a lack of manners, unfortunately. “No problem, sir,” You answered smoothly, a charming grin on your glossed lips.

You got him another shot, returning to your lazy lounging behind the bar. You enjoyed watching the customers, observing what they did and how they acted. Most of them were drunk, but it only added to your entertainment. After all, good entertainment is the key to not quitting your job. Not including the fact that rent was due every month.

Speaking of entertainment, Leon should be coming in…

The bell rang as the door opened.

… right about now.

Exactly on time. You couldn’t help but let a small smile curl on your lips, easily predicting the exact time Leon would walk in. He’s been coming here for a while, after all.

“Good evening, Mr. Leon,” You greeted as you set down the bottle of alcohol, pouring him a shot. “Doin’ fine today?” Despite his real lack of talking, you still found yourself attempting to converse with him. He interested you. Everything from his attitude to his alcoholism to his seemingly endless credit card.

He didn’t answer you for a good moment, letting out a grunt as he downed the shot, wiping the excess liquor off with the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Peachy,” He answered, not looking you in the eyes. You didn’t mind. You poured him another shot, sliding the shot glass to you.

Leon finally looked up at you, steel-blue irises meeting yours. A shock went up your spine, your body shivering as you stared into his eyes. Some magnetizing force refused to let you look away, keeping your eyes on him until you were called over by another customer. Even then, you had to tear your gaze away, clearing your throat as you attended to the other customer.

What was that?

You’ve never had that type of connection before. An electric spark that only you two could feel. It felt odd, the effects lingering in your spin, sending zaps of electricity to your neurons. They seemed to be working in overdrive, making everything a little too sensitive. The wooden counter brushing against your skin felt rougher than usual and you could feel your feet ache, a dull sensation that made you bite your lip.

The rest of the night went on without many complaints. You mixed drinks, tried hard to not look at Leon, and made conversation with customers. It was a nice night, overall. However, as the late hours rolled around and the lights dimmed, the rowdy yelling morphing into a hushed murmur among the crowd.

All the while, you could feel Leon’s gaze on you. You didn’t look, knowing you’d be pulled into that magnetizing force again, not wanting to be stuck. It was odd considering you’ve never had a full conversation with him. Maybe it was a figment of your imagination, you being weird to a man who wanted nothing to do with you.

But if he wanted nothing to do with you, then why could you feel his gaze stuck on you, watching you like a predator stalking its prey?

—

It started getting slow at around three in the morning, yet Leon stayed no matter how late it got. He had finished an entire bottle now, sitting at the bar drunk. You were sure that he reeked of alcohol.

Despite whatever happened between the two of you earlier, you were still drawn to him. You wanted to make conversation with him, to hear that smooth and rough all at the same time voice respond to you.

“Here late again, aren’t you, Mr. Leon?” You asked, a brow raised as you cleaned the glasses. He looked up at you as you spoke, eyes squinting against the overhead light. His eyes were half-lidded, cheeks red and flushed. His arms crossed over each other on the bar where his head was laying a moment ago.

Leon grumbled at your words, his voice thick with alcohol, but replied anyway. “As always,” He said, eyes darting to you. He focused his gaze on you, and again, you felt as if you were being sucked into a black hole. There was something pulling about his gaze, deep sea blues enticing you. Your eyes darted to his lips, nude-colored and somewhat chapped, before quickly flicking back up to his eyes. Why did you even do that?

Once you dried your hands off, you leaned against the bar, head tilted as you looked at Leon. “You done for the night, Mr. Leon?” You asked, ready to take the empty beer bottle, but he simply grunted. He didn’t answer for a moment, silence falling over the bar, save for the hushed murmur of conversation in the corner. Right now, it was only you and Leon.

You couldn’t tell if you liked the idea of that or not. For now, you chose to enjoy it.

Without looking up at you, Leon grumbled a response. “Jus’ Leon s’fine,” He said, surprising you. He never really spoke besides answering your questions, so an actual conversation starter coming from him was surprising. Not hated, however.

“Alright, Leon,” You said. You tried to hide how giddy you were, feeling as if you’ve got somewhere. “Are you done with that bottle?” You needed to know if you could throw it out yet. You were tired of seeing an empty bottle on the counter. With a grunt and a nod, Leon gave you permission, eliciting a smile from you as you took the empty bottle. You hummed as you threw it away, feeling his eyes laser holes into the back of your head.

You turned back around to see him staring at you, the flush on his cheeks red from alcohol. He seemed to know how to handle his liquor, though. “Can I ask you a question, Leon?” You asked, leaning against the bar, your hands near his elbow. You wondered if he was naturally a warm or cold person (a dumb thought, in all honesty– You were curious, however).

After he nodded, you continued with your question. “What do you do for work?” He wasn’t expecting that question, eyebrows pinching together, but you continued with an explanation. “I mean, you come here practically every night and pay, probably, thousands every couple weeks. The fact that your card hasn’t declined yet is… insane.”

He seemed to not like to be reminded of his job. His shoulders slumped and his eyes glazed over, staring off into the distance, but you couldn’t help but be curious. After a few moments of silence, and anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach, he finally spoke up. “I work for the government.” His response was vague, but you could tell that he didn’t want you to press anymore.

Still, you were curious about him. You wanted to know more about him. “Were you raised in Colorado?” You asked, but he merely arched a brow at you. He looked annoyed, lips curled into a sneer. “What is this, twenty-one questions?” Immediately, you felt as if you had overstepped your boundaries, spikes of your anxious nerves pricking your skin, making you stand upright.

“I’m so sorry–”

“I get to ask you a question before you ask me one. Is that not how twenty-one questions work?”

Your eyes widened at his words, yet went along with them. You leaned back against the counter, ignoring the anxious pin pricking of nerves. “I guess it is,” You said, a small smile curling on your lips. “What is it you wanna ask?”

A moment of silence hovers over you two, not doing anything to soothe your rapidly-firing neurons. “Let’s see, [Name],” He starts. The way your name rolls off his tongue makes you suppress a shiver, not daring to break eye contact with him. “How long have you been working here?”

You hum in thought, biting your lip as you think. “For a few years now,” You answered, noticing the way his gaze quickly flickered back up to your eyes. Interesting. “Let’s see…” You take a moment to think. “You have somewhere to be in the morning, Leon?”

He seems surprised by the question, the corner of his lip curling upwards. “Not anywhere important, sweetheart,” Leon answers. “There a reason you’re askin’?” The unexpected pet name gets a rise out of you, cheeks flushing. Leon’s observant– Able to tell your reactions better than you can. You’re awfully easy to fluster.

“I have a shift in the morning,” You tell him, smiling sweetly. “If you want to swing by, I might be happy to serve you.”

Leon chuckles. He gets up, pushing the empty shot glass towards you, flashing a grin. “I’ll be there, dollface.”

With that, he sets down a few hundred dollars on the counter, turning on his heel. He waves a hand towards you. “Keep the change!” Typically, when people say that it’s only a few cents extra, but this time it’s a couple hundred extra.

After realizing this, you go to say something, but he’s already gone.

—

The next day comes slower than you’d like. Each time the door opens, your gaze flickers to it, hoping to see Leon. Yet, every time, it isn’t Leon. Time passes slowly, the hands on the clock taunting you, until finally, watching the door pays off.

You sigh, your chin on your hand as you stare at the door. What an interesting guy.

You straighten up as Leon walks in, immediately grinning at the sight of him. “Well, well, well, look who it is!” You said, noticing the playful tug at his lips. “If it isn’t Leon. Came back early, did ya’?” You were teasing him.

“Only ‘cause ya’ asked me to, doll,” Leon replied, taking a seat at the bar, arms folded in front of him. You hand him a bottle of his usual alcohol and an empty shot glass. You don’t know if he wants to drink, but it isn’t long before he’s taking a shot. “So, what’s the reason for this meeting?”

You shrug your shoulders, leaning back against the wall, a smile on your lips. “You’re an interesting guy, Leon,” You reply smoothly. “Just wanted to see if you had anything else interesting about you.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes, as if he knows something you don’t, finding your words amusing. “If only you knew.”

You don’t ask him what he means, but you can’t help but be curious. Maybe there’s something more to your favorite regular and all-time-mysterious-customer.

It’s slow in the mornings, allowing you and Leon to easily fall into quiet conversation. He’s surprisingly funny, cracking jokes that have you giggling behind the bar. All the other customers have left, leaving only you and Leon, chatting with each other to pass the time. He likes sarcasm, you’ve learned. Snarky responses, too.

There’s more to him than just a most-likely alcoholic and seemingly endless credit card.

It’s a few hours into your conversation with two people you’ve never seen before set foot into the bar. One of them is a big guy, tactical gear on his waist and chest, while the other is a much smaller woman with short hair. You’re about to speak up, but Leon beats you to it.

“Make sure not to scare the locals,” He says gruffly. “Your stealth is for shit.”

Your eyes flicker between the two, now standing behind Leon, and the latter, taking another shot of the alcohol. Noticing the tension, you quickly walk away, cleaning already-clean glasses to make yourself look busy. You try not to eavesdrop on their conversation, but you can’t help it. You’ve never seen anyone talk to Leon, and you’ve never seen the people talking to him, either.

“Isn’t it a little too early to be that deep in the bottle, Leon?” The big guy asks, arms crossed over his chest. You hear Leon’s scoff, see him turn towards the two out of the corner of your eye.

“Well, if it isn’t the B.S.A.A.’s golden boy and Dr. High Hopes!” There’s fake joy in his tone, melting into disdain when he turns back around. “What the hell do you want?”

The big guy glances at you before he says another word and you quickly take the hint. You scurry off to the back, consequently shielding your ears from their conversation. You pretend to be busy, but there’s really only one thing on your mind: Who are these people?

You’ve never seen them before, much less anyone talk to Leon. He’s always been a loner, isolating himself in the corner of the bar. It’s not your business though, as curious as you are.

Fifteen minutes pass without any complaints. You stay in the back, occasionally hearing the muffled conversation between the three. The big guy scared you, biceps the size of your head. You’d go out there if you weren’t afraid of him snapping your neck like a twig.

Within a few minutes, there’s yelling and shouting, a rough ‘thud!’ echoing off the walls. Your eyes widened, looking out the peephole of the door to spy on them. You see Leon holding a guy by the collar to a pillar in the bar, snarl on his lips and eyes glaring daggers. You’ve never seen him angry before. The big guy stands beside him, mouth moving in a question you desperately wish you could read. The woman doesn’t seem to be out there anymore.

Before you could go see what was going on, there’s a quiet noise behind you, curiosity getting the better of you. However, as soon as you turn your head, you’re met with a woman with blonde hair, piercing red eyes, and a succubus-esque leather outfit. Your attempts to say something are muffled by the cloth she forces up to your nose, instinctively inhaling.

Your eyes begin to droop, the back of the bar spinning. Your legs shake and you can barely feel her stopping you from falling on the wooden floor.

“Witness secured.”

Him and Chris duck behind a table, wood clattering onto the floor and debris tainting the bar. He always liked this bar.

She throws you over her shoulder. Your eyes fall shut, and everything fades out.

—

The bar gets shot up. Leon briefly thinks that he’ll pay for the damages.

As Chris peeks up, there’s a sense of urgency in his tone. “They have Rebecca!” He yells, then squints, as if trying to make something out. “And… the bartender?”

At that, Leon shoots up, looking past the table to see a woman with blond hair, holding Rebecca over one shoulder and you over the other. His breath hitches.

“Fuck,” He swears. “That’s [Name].”

You hardly even know him and you’ve gotten caught up in his work. He hates the feeling of defeat that washes over him, but it’s quickly replaced by seething anger. He won’t let anything happen to you. You don’t deserve that.

He and Chris will get you and Rebecca back.

“Why take the bartender?” Chris wondered aloud. Tires hit the worn down sand, dirt kicking up as it took off. “They weren’t involved in anything, were they?”

Leon had no clue as to why you were kidnapped. “Maybe they didn’t want any witnesses,” He muttered, standing up, surveying the debris. This would be hell to clean up. They couldn’t worry about that, though. Leon glanced down at the phone in his hand, one that wasn’t his, sighing angrily. “We need to figure out what they’re planning.” He holds the phone up to Chris. “Maybe this’ll help.”

With Rebecca’s laptop, a sample of her blood, and the cellphone, Leon and Chris devoted hours of their time to figure out what Glenn Arias’ plan was. The light reflecting off of Rebecca’s laptop and the cellphone, both of them had a headache. Still, they needed to push on. For Rebecca and [Name].

Finally, after discussing what Arias could’ve been planning, they figured it out: He was planning a bioterrorist attack on New York City using his new virus he had engineered. “Fuck,” Chris swore, scrolling on the laptop. “He isn’t planning to infect a few people…”

“He’s planning to infect the entire city.” Leon finished.

They both glanced at each other, and then at the laptop, the tank trunks mockingly staring back at them. Arias was planning possibly one of the biggest bioterrorist attacks the world’s ever seen.

Chris began calling the B.S.A.A., scheduling an airplane to take them to New York City, where they had also discovered where Arias’ base of operations was at. It would arrive within a few hours, and they wouldn’t get to New York until the next day.

Blearily, your eyes opened, the world around you emerged in a blur. There was a bright light, one you turned your head and squinted at, a low groan being pulled from your lips.

If Leon didn’t need a drink a few hours prior, he definitely did now.

—

Thick shackles held down your neck, wrists, torso, and ankles, keeping you pinned to the metal table. You attempted to move, but they were tight, keeping you in place. You cleared your throat, drawing the man’s attention back to you. There was a twinkle of something you couldn’t place in his eyes, one that made you want to pull yourself away from him.

It wasn’t until something– or someone– covered the fluorescent light did your vision finally adjust to the environment. A man with gray hair stood there, a calm smile on his face. “You’re awake,” He said, voice smooth, composed. “Apologies for having brought you here. You weren’t who I was trying to get.” His eyes flickered next to you, but you didn’t have enough freedom to look.

“Where am I?” You asked meekly. “Why am I here?” He sighed softly at your words, folding his hands behind his back. He seemed composed, as if all of this was normal. You were hardly keeping yourself together. If you weren’t unbelievably drowsy and held down, you’d be kicking and screaming. “I couldn’t have any witnesses,” He said. “You understand that, don’t you? However, I have to knock you out again. You woke up too early.” He motioned for what appeared to be a nurse step to the opposite side of the metal table, a surgical mask covering the lower half of his face and light blue scrubs adorning his frame. You tried to struggle, not wanting to be put back to sleep, but your efforts were futile. “Put ‘em to sleep again, will you, Doc?”

Despite your mumbled protests, a sharp pinch attacked your neck, and you were put to sleep again.

The next time you woke up, you were sitting up. It felt like a wooden chair, your attempted squirming causing the wood to creak under your movement. Your hands were tied behind your back, harsh rope rubbing into your wrists. Once your eyes adjusted to the scene before you, you were surprised to see a wedding.

A quick glance down told you that you were wearing a bridesmaid’s dress, flowy and long, reaching around your ankles. Your eyebrows pinched together, glancing around the rest of the room, quickly spotting the short haired woman that was around Leon and the big guy sitting beside you.

Unlike you, she was wearing a wedding dress, sporting the same confused expression you wore. As soon as she saw you, her confusion seemed to worsen, eyebrows furrowed as she stared at you. “Aren’t you the bartender?” She asked, to which you nodded. She gave a small huff in acknowledgement, looking around at what appeared to be a wedding ceremony. “Then… Why would he take you? Or either of us. This doesn’t make sense.”

You felt as if something big was happening– You don’t know what Leon was involved in, but you didn’t want to be involved either. “I don’t know what’s going on,” You said, flexing your wrists, testing the rope (again). “But I don’t want to be involved in this. I was just… talking to Leon.” A look of recognition flashed across her face, telling you she knew Leon personally. “He was only there because I told him to come that morning. He wasn’t even supposed to be there when you and the other guy walked in.”

You don’t know what you were trying to accomplish with your rant, but you needed to get it out. “Who even are you guys? I’ve never seen either of you before, and you just come in and start talking to Leon, and I’ve never seen anyone talk to Leon before but he seems to be involved in something and, apparently, now I am, too–”

“Breathe,” She cut you off. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. “I’m Rebecca Chambers. I’m a professor at a University. The other guy is Chris Redfield. I’m sorry that you’re caught up in this now, none of us– Me, Leon, or Chris– meant for you to be involved. We needed Leon’s help with something and figured we’d see him there.”

Finally taking deep breaths, you calmed down a little. Your heart was still racing and you were anxious, head spinning with overwhelming thoughts, but Rebecca helped. Even if it was just a little.

“I’m [Name] [Last Name].”

Rebecca smiled. “Nice to meet you, [Name].”

Before either of you could speak, a door was opened, a harsh end to the peacefulness that was you and Rebecca’s first conversation. The man who spoke to you earlier was there, hands folded behind his back, and a smile on his face. “Good, you’re both awake.” He walked in, keeping an eye on you and Rebecca.

The silver-haired man begins speaking to Rebecca, telling her that her “cure is magnificent” and “you’re truly a genius.” You don’t know what they’re talking about, but Rebecca surely does. She glances at you, then back at the man.

“I already figured everything out, Arias. My blood was the key,” Rebecca says, narrowing her eyes at him. “I know that your virus lays dormant in people. There are three stages to your virus: The one that lays dormant, the trigger, and the vaccine.” She smirks, a smug twinkle in her eyes. “And I know how you infect people.”

Virus? Dormant? Infect? What the hell is she talking about?

Your gaze flickers between Rebecca and Arias, watching the latter grin at Rebecca. “You really are a genius,” He muses. “Tell me more. How do I infect people, Professor Chambers?” A mocking lilt is clear in his tone, but Rebecca pays no mind. She simply continues her speech.

“I noticed that you were concentrating your outbreaks near the Great Lakes. At first, I thought you were infecting the water in the Great Lakes,” Arias’ eyebrows raise, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. Rebecca continues. “But you weren’t doing it on purpose, were you? No, you were infecting the water of a drinking water company.”

All this talk of infecting and water confused you, but it seemed Arias knew exactly what she was talking about. “Congratulations,” He said, coming to untie her wrists. He unties yours as well.

“It’s called the Animality Virus, or the A-Virus for short,” Arias explains. “The difference between my merchandise and everyone else’s is that mine can tell the difference between friends and foes. Essentially, I can tell them who to attack. They’re not completely mindless.”

With every sentence, you were sure your brain was spilling out of your ears. Nothing they were saying made any sense to you. Rebecca, however, seemed upset at Arias’ words. And with each word he was saying, you could tell she wanted nothing more than to smack him across the face.

“The B.S.A.A. is ready to mass produce the cure! You may infect people, but we’ll be sure to give them the vaccine before you trigger it.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Professor.” Arias walks to the seat beside Rebecca, somehow still smiling. There’s a smug air about him “You were right: Your blood is the key. With your blood, I will be able to create a stronger virus.” He turns to the front of the room, eyes glazed over.

“Tomorrow will be a new world. Slowly, it will be stronger. Better.”

You notice Rebecca’s eyes widen at his words, but she doesn’t comment on them. Instead she looks around, eyebrows furrowed.

At the front of the room, there is a picture of four people projected on the wall. Arias, who appears younger; a young woman next to him; further from them stands a blonde woman; as well as a taller, older man behind her. The young woman next to Arias looks a lot like Rebecca.

“When that missile was shot at my wedding, it was meant to kill me.” A humorless chuckle leaves Arias. “However, it only killed everyone around me. Including my wife, Sarah.” He turns to look at Rebecca, a sad smile on his face. “You look a lot like her, Rebecca.”

Arias pulls a wedding ring out of his pocket, his smile turning sardonic. “That’s why I’m going to marry you, Rebecca. You’ll be a perfect model for my Sarah.” His eyes shift to you, pinning you in place like a bird in a cage. “And the witness will be your bridesmaid. I do need to kill them afterwards, but they will be present for our wedding.”

Your eyes go wide. Kill them afterwards?

The last thing you were going to notice would be a forced marriage between an insane guy and a woman who’s name you just learned.

You don’t want to die. You have so much to live for, so much to do. Dying simply because you were at the wrong place at the wrong time would be a horrible end. And you’re scared that there’s nothing you can do about it.

You are going to die. You can not stop it.

You don’t say anything as you sit there. You can hear Arias and Rebecca talking, but their voices are muffled, as if you are underwater. Your head is stuffed with cotton, keeping out any thoughts or questions.

You see Arias slap Rebecca across the face. She falls down, clutching her now-red cheek, staring up at Arias. You zone back in to see him opening a suitcase of some kind, cold air being exhaled as he opened it. What he pulls out is an arm. It’s pale and detached at the forearm. Bile rises to the back of your throat.

“Meet my wife, Sarah.” He smiles sickly, slipping the wedding ring on Sarah’s finger. “I know what I’ll do: I’ll sew her arm onto yours and then we’ll be wed.” He’s talking to Rebecca, who looks like she’s going to be sick as well.

Arias calls in two subordinates, breaking the projection of the wedding ceremony. “Take them to the lab,” He orders them. One goes to Rebecca, taking her by the arms, and the other goes to you and takes your arms in his grasp. “Infect both of them with the strongest forms of the virus. If it goes well, sew Sarah’s arm onto Rebecca.”

You and Rebecca share a glance, both of your eyes wide. Arguably, Rebecca has a bad fate, but you’re going to die. You and Rebecca need to get out of here.

The subordinates bring you two out into the hallway. Adrenaline floods your veins, overdosing them. As they’re walking both of you, presumably toward the lab, your legs shake. You feel as if you can’t walk, forcing your feet to take overwhelming steps.

As soon as you get to the lab door, you thrash around in the subordinate’s grip, effectively loosening it. You throw out any sort of punch and kick that you can, albeit badly. You’re clearly not trained to do this. The one holding Rebecca goes to stop you, but she’s already sweeping beneath his feet to make him fall, rendering him useless.

“We’re going to get out of here,” Rebecca assures you.

However, as soon as you turn around to go, the nurse from earlier grabs ahold of Rebecca. You stay frozen in place for a moment, heart racing, staring at Rebecca squirming in the nurse's grip. This is your only chance. It’s now or never.

“Go!” Rebecca screams. “Save yourself!”

That was the only encouragement you needed.

“I’ll come back for you!” You yell back. You break off into a sprint, going any confusing direction you can, just in case.

As you run, you notice the cameras swiveling towards you, lasering in on your dashing figure. You know you’re being watched, most likely by Arias.

Your sprint down the hallway comes to an interruption as static crackles in the air. You look around, eyes wide, jumping at the sound of a chuckle reverberating in the walls. “You’re not getting out of here alive, witness. Good luck getting past them.” Arias’ voice sounds through a sort of speech system.

Before you can ask him what he’s talking about, a door in the hallway opens up ahead of you. Out comes a tumble of people? They look like people, but their skin is falling off the bone and they’re deathly pale and some have limbs missing. You attempt to crack a joke, eyes wide as you take steps back.

“What is this, the zombie apocalypse?”

Their moans and groans answer your rhetorical question.

You turn around, legs breaking off in a sprint. Right as you go past a door, it opens, revealing more people. Or, whatever they are. Their moans join the previous people’s, a symphony of the wicked.

All you know is that they don’t exactly look nice. Besides, Arias made it clear that you weren’t going to leave alive. They’re meant to kill you.

You refuse to die like this. Not by whatever those things are, not by Arias, not like this. You’ve thought about how your demise would be countless times, the thought plaguing you late at night when it’s just you and your thoughts– None of your endings turned out like this.

You won’t accept it.

The only option is to get out of this place. Honestly, you have no idea how you’re supposed to do that. It only seems to be endless hallways, bland and lifeless, stretching past the horizon. The cacophony of groans behind you gets louder. They’ve gotten closer.

The stretch of hallways seems to finally come to an end. The end of the hallway would be good if not for the murderous horde behind you.

Once you approach the ending with nothing but beige walls and green outlines in sight, you start to fear for your life. It feels close to ending now. It’s become all so real. The torn flesh and blood-ridden skin on those things makes you shudder. Your back is against the wall.

Maybe it is time to kick the bucket.

A deafening chorus of gunshots ring out, bouncing off the walls. You see blood splatter against beige, and your hope for freedom, for living, becomes too much. You push towards where the moans and groans have ended and where the gunshots were heard, curiously peeking from around the corner.

There stands Leon and Chris, you know him as now. The latter notices you, nodding at you. “You!” He says. Leon turns around. You shuffle from around the corner, suddenly mute with attention.

Leon’s eyes widen momentarily, but he recovers hastily leaning a motorcycle– Where did he get a motorcycle from?– against the wall. He rushes towards, eyes overlooking you. The adrenaline is beginning to wear off, legs shaky with exhaustion catching up to you.

“You’re okay,” He breathes, not seeing any injuries on you. Still, he worries. “Are you hurt anywhere?” His hands hesitate, going to wrap around you, but stop.

You do your best to nod, clearing your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, Leon. Thank you.” Your voice gets louder once you look up, noticing the final question in both Chris and Leon’s eyes: Where is Rebecca? “The woman you two were with, Rebecca, she’s in a lab. They infected her with something. I don’t know what’s going on, but we need to get to her before Arias does. Please.”

They seem to want to get to her as much as you do, Leon’s hands leaving the area above you to hang at his sides. Chris sighs and shakes his head, looking around. “Alright. We need to find this lab, find Rebecca, cure her, and get Glenn Arias. The vaccine has to be around here somewhere.” He looks at you, then Leon, and then down the hallway. “I’ll find the lab. Leon, get them to a safe place. Arias might try to come after them.”

Leon nods. Chris nods back, some kind of communication, before turning around and going down the hall. You can hear the release of doors.

Leon looks back at you, now just the two of you in the hallway, and then back at his motorcycle. “Ever rode a motorcycle before, sweetheart?” He grins teasingly at you. You bite your lip, the pet name still making you flush despite the circumstances, and shake your head.

He arches a brow at you, letting out a low whistle as he stands the motorcycle back up. “You’re in for a ride,” He tells you, sitting at the front of it. Leon turns to look back at you, patting the area behind him. “Hop on. Make sure to hold on tight.”

Carefully, maybe a little too slowly, you get on the motorcycle. You hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, but he places a foot on the ground to wrap your arms around him for you. “Just like that,” He whispers.

For a moment, there is no virus and kidnapping and forced marriage.

For a moment, it is only you and Leon, sitting on a motorcycle together.

It’s a fleeting moment, one that lasts too little for the way it replays in your mind. It ends quicker than you’d like it to.

The motorcycle speeds down the hallway, bringing you to where Leon considers a safe place. The journey out of the building is a long one, Chris presumably distracting Arias. He seems intelligent though.

As soon as you and Leon make it out of the building, you breathe a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize you were holding. The threat of your pending death seems less real now, more like an intrusive thought. Especially now that you’re with Leon.

He brings you to a hotel, parking the motorcycle and waiting for your arms to retract for both of you to get off. Your legs shake under your weight, threatening to collapse. Leon notices it, wrapping your arm around his waist. “Don’t fall,” He murmurs, either unaware or uncaring of your flushed face. His arm wraps around your shoulders, a heavy weight that you gladly welcome (seriously, how heavy was this guy’s bicep?).

He helped you walk up to the hotel room, despite how embarrassing needing the help was. He didn’t shame you for it, letting you take your time when you struggled to walk up the stairs, never even seeming annoyed. He unlocked the door and walked you inside, letting it close shut behind you two.

“There you go.” He set you down on the bed. To your shock, he even kneeled down to undo your shoelaces for you, taking them off your feet and throwing them to the front. “Better?”

You nod your head as you sit there, dumbly looking at him. He sets a hand on your knee, thumb caressing it, as he stands up. He sighed as he sat next to you, rubbing his eyes. “I need a drink.” Leon grumbled. You snickered, humming in agreement. “Well said.”

There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence that sweeps across you. You have so many questions about everything, yet not enough breath to ask them with. Instead, you bit your lip and sigh, looking down at the ground. “What’s going on, Leon?”

He mimics your sigh, as if he knew what you were going to ask him. “I never wanted you, or anyone, to get caught up with my work,” Leon confessed. “You saw a lot of things that you shouldn’t have. They’ll most likely have you change everything about yourself– Your name, location. Everything.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“The government.”

Another uncomfortable silence. You don’t know what to say. All the information is burning through your brain, making your body go into overdrive in order not to pass out, but you don’t have enough words to say anything. You’re confused and upset and lost.

However, there’s one question that sticks out the most. It stays stuck in your throat for a long while, desperate to not be heard. Still, you want to know. You need to know.

“Will I ever see you again?”

It weighs heavily in the air. You can feel Leon stiffen, clearly not expecting your question. There’s nothing in between you two. Your knee rests against his, the warmth seeping through your jeans. It makes you yearn to be closer to him, to feel that all-encompassing warmth all over you, for it to never leave you again.

Your puppy crush on Leon has developed into something so much more.

“Only if you want to.”

Leon’s words cut through the air like a knife. There’s a dual-meaning to his words; wondering if you want to see him again, a gravelly lilt to his voice.

“Of course I do.”

You say it like it’s obvious, as if there’s nothing more you’d want to do. In a way, there is nothing more you’d rather do. You’ve always found him interesting, and now you know he’s more than interesting. You want to see him more– more than just work hours and more than small conversations. You want to know his favorite color and how he likes his coffee in the morning and how he would hold you in the evening.

“Then you’ll see me again.”

You look at him. Leon’s already looking at you when you turn your head. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you feel open and vulnerable, and then back up to your eyes. Something gleams in his eyes and there’s a sort of roughness to his gaze. He’s been through more than he lets on. Its weight strains against Leon when he walks and when he talks, an edge to his voice that isn’t obvious upon first meeting.

You haven’t talked to him much, and you don’t really know anything about him, but you want to. You want to put in the effort to wake up with him in the mornings and go on dates with him in the evenings. You want to be there for him. You want to see him when you wake up and when you go to sleep.

You wouldn’t put in the effort for a lot of things, but you would put in the effort to see Leon.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“You will?” Your voice is quiet, meek. You knew that you had admitted you wanted to see Leon again, but you had no idea that Leon would want to see you again. After all, you had been the one that caused him to be in the bar that morning.

If you hadn’t asked him to come, he wouldn’t have been there. He could’ve avoided this whole mess.

Still, he nods his head. One of his hands comes to your knee, thumb caressing gently. He’s unreadable, always has been, but there’s one thing you're certain of: You’ll see him again.

“I will,” He confirms, quiet, as if it was just between you and him. “We’ll see each other again, [Name.]

“Alright, Leon.”

Things haven’t been right for a while. You were kidnapped for being a witness and had seen walking things that would definitely scar you for the rest of your life. Going home is the only thing you want to do right now.

But for a moment, things do feel right. The stars align and the planets come together to create a swirling galaxy of emotions.

Sitting here besides Leon feels right.

Leon feels right.

#𝆹⭒ vi writes!?#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil x reader #rewident evil x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy x you

224 notes · View notes