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madschiavelique · 9 months

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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !! word count : 7,7k

note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe). enough of me talking, love u guys !!

the previous parts : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission

tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy

Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:

"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”

Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.

The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...

"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.

The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.

"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.

"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."

"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.

"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.

The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.

"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"

"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."

Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.

"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.

"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."

"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"

"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.

"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.

"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.

You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"

The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.

"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."

It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.

Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.

"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"

He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:

"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."

I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.

"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.

"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.

Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.

Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...

"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.

You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.

Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.

So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.

And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.

"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.

"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"

"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.

"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.

"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.

Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.

It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.

Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.

"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.

"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.

And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.

He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.

Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.

"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."

Oh, it won't be sleep.

He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.

The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.

It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.

His nose wrinkled slightly.

"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"

Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.

"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."

And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.

"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.

He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...

But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.

His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.

So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.

A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.

"Where," the question sounding more like a command.

His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.

"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.

You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.

"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.

It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.

The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.

His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.

"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."

His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.

"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.

Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.

You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.

He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.

His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:

"Kiss me," you whined, "please."

His eyes crinkled with his smile.

"Mira que buena."

He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.

Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.

He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.

"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”

Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.

"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.

All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.

"I want... I want you to..."

You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.

The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.

"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.

You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :

"I want you to fuck me."

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.

His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.

"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.

You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.

You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.

And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:

"I want you to fuck me."

His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.

"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."

His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?

You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.

You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"

His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:

"Fuck me, please."

His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.

If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?

"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.

His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.

His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.

And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.

Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.

"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.

The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.

You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.

He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.

"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.

Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.

To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.

As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.

As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.

You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.

He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.

He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.

And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.

You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.

His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.

He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.

The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.

His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.

He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.

Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.

"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.

You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.

Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.

Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.

Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.

He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.

It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.

His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.

As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.

As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.

One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.

He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.

"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.

He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:

"Say that again."

A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.

"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."

He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.

His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.

"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"

Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.

"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.

Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.

"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.

"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.

His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.

"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.

"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.

His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.

"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."

With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.

Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.

Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.

The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.

You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.

"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."

The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.

"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"

His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.

"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.

"Use your words," he said simply.

"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."

He nodded, proud.

"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."

Timidly, you parted your lips.

"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.

You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.

Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.

His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.

"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.

"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.

He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:

"Ready?"

You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:

"Ready."

He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.

"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."

So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:

"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.

His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.

"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.

He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.

Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.

"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.

As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.

His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.

He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.

His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.

His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.

After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.

His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.

Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.

"Qué guapa," he breathed.

His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.

Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.

"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."

It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.

And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.

You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.

"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”

His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.

One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.

He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.

His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.

You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.

Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.

Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.

And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.

Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.

He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.

You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.

You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.

You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.

"How did you know?" he whispered.

The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.

"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.

He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.

"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.

"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.

"Two letters?" he asked, curious.

"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."

He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.

"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."

Us, two letters, a whole world.

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel x reader #astv x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderman #miguel astv #smut #Spotify

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

———

“Hm,” Piper says, fingers steepled. She looks very intently at the air in front of her. “Hm.”

Nico scowls impatiently. “Feel free to be helpful at any given time. Now, even, if you’re so inclined.”

“Have you considered that the reason you’re so infatuated with Will is because you may be blessed by Apollo?”

“I’m infatuated with Will because he is the physical manifestation of everything I value in a person,” Nico says automatically. Then he frowns, processing the rest of Piper’s sentence. “Wait, what?”

Nico understands his error as the grin on her face stretches into something truly grotesque. “I was going to make a joke about your drama levels, but thank you for that. I’m really looking forward to telling several dozen people and delighting in the knowledge that you’re going to curl up into a bundle of humiliation under your bunk tonight as you think about it.”

Instead of answering, Nico decides to walk away. Since there is so much blood concentrated in his skull, resting mostly around his face region, he takes two steps and begins to pass out, but luckily Piper has followed him and impedes a head injury by gripping his arm and merrily forcing him forward.

“So,” she says, steering them towards the amphitheatre, “what’s Plan B?”

“Bold of you to assume there was a Plan A.”

“You like Sunny Boy way too much to walk in there blind.”

“…Touché.”

She’s smug enough to be silent, slinging an arm over Nico’s shoulders as they walk. The closer they get, the harder Nico is forced to grapple with just how godsdamn much he’s softened. I want you to be happy, Father had said. Camp will be good for you, Chiron had agreed. You’re a little twit and need socializing, Mr. D had snipped.

Nico needs a better father figure. He wonders if Paul Blofis’ offer is still open.

The amphitheater is not, of course, empty when they arrive, because Nico knows the Fates personally and each of them despises him. The actual training part is empty — unsurprising — but the stands are moderately filled, with people gossiping, braiding hair, and if Nico is not mistaken, a small, pop-up nail painting salon. Mitchel lifts a purple-smeared hand in an absentminded wave as they step onto the packed dirt.

Nico ducks under Piper’s arm, turning to face her. “I need to fight you,” he informs her. “For my own personal pride.”

She nods thoughtfully. “It does indeed need restoring.” He curved, icy blade gleams in the early afternoon sun, mirroring her dangerous smile. “Square up.”

Since honour is for nerds, Nico doesn’t bother waiting. He simply attacks, lunging for the left side Piper always leaves open. Unfortunately for him, her recent meddling in his love life means her mother has blessed her with a little sprinkling of extra verve, and she dodges easily and cheerfully.

He sends a glum mental prayer down to his father.

Anytime you’re feeling generous, Pop, he grumbles, I would love a boost.

There’s an actual rumble to the ground, as his father laughs at him.

“Real kind,” he says out loud. “Dick.”

“I wonder if you would have more success in the wooing department if you had conversations outside of your own head,” Piper says sweetly. She spins her sword in a neat little circle by his face. “All bay brooding makes you look so…broody.”

Nico scoffs at her. “Will seems to like my broodiness. For some reason. So there.”

“And yet…” She trails off, shooting him a teasing look. Nico is unfortunately very easy to tease (thanks, Bianca) (and for that measure thanks, Hazel) (Reyna too, probably) (and honestly Annabeth) (gods, and Percy) (don’t even get him started on Leo) (really, it would be more prudent to name the people who do not take sick pleasure in driving him up the wall) and as such succumbs easily to her tormenting, taking a hard hit to the side when he’s too keyed up to avoid her spinning slash.

“Note to self, don’t let the monsters know about big embarrassing crushes,” she muses. “They make Nico sloppy and will get him killed in battle.”

She mimes writing something down. This, thankfully, leaves her distracted enough that Nico gets his sword levered against hers, twisting until she’s disarmed. She lifts both hands up in surrender when he points a sword at her throat, but remains entirely unaffected by his glare.

“Pride re-instated?” she asks.

Nico huffs. “No.”

…Yes.

“You’re such a grouch,” she says fondly. She tries to ruffle his hair and is forcibly stopped by his jab to her ribs. Unfortunately, Piper McLean takes no shit sitting down, and in a minute they’re on the floor, getting caked in dust, trying to see who can leave the most bruises on the other. Nico would wager that they’re just about tied.

“You have a list,” Piper grunts, muffled as she bites his bicep. He shouts, wrenching his arm away — she is pointy. “I have no idea what you’re all mopey about.”

He digs his knee into the small of her back. “I gave him flowers! He made a poultice out of them!”

“Technically, you made the poultice.”

He elbows her in the stomach. She shrieks and jabs her knuckles right under his eye.

“You’re so annoying!”

“Ugh!”

Every part of Nico’s body aches. So badly. He’s not sure which one of them won their brawl, if either, but he knows for sure that he is actively turning purple. He feels like the first time his nonna gave him a hammer and a piece of cutlet — he was maybe five years old — and told him to flatten it. (He remembers, now, the look on her face as she wiped pulverized chicken flesh from her eye. Oops.)

“Go to Will and get healed up?”

Nico huffs a laugh, immediately wincing at the strain on his tender ribs.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

The walk is miserable and bruised. And slow, since both of them are limping. Several campers walk by snickering, since apparently Saving The Entire Damn World, For Real And Actually, You Ungrateful Brat, Should I Just Destroy It Again Then earns you no permanent respect.

It’s not too bad, though. Nico would rather chomp on concrete than admit it out loud, but Piper isn’t horrible company, and she hums when she walks. Bianca did the same thing. For once, it’s a pleasant reminder, although he does wonder if Nico will ever be able to look at the women in his life and not think of her.

(In all honesty, probably not. He sees her in the clouds, in the gnarled bark of the trees; feels her in the warmth of the sun; hears her in every snorting laugh. He likes to imagine how much she would love these women, though. If she were alive they would be her friends first. He knows she was happy with the Hunters, however briefly. He thinks he can maybe forgive himself if he thinks of her without weeping.)

“Least it doesn’t look too busy today,” Piper comments. She purses her lips at the Big House, which for once seems quiet. Perhaps Will made good on his threats and finally dosed the Hermes’ table breakfast spread with Benadryl. Nico would be proud. He deserves a day of peace.

“Great. That means we get the full force of Will’s bitching on us alone.”

Piper scoffs. “Please. You like it when he yells at you.”

Nico almost kills her for real. By the time she manages to kick him off of her, still snickering to herself, they both have a new layer of bruises on top of the old ones.

“Gods, di Angelo, you make it so easy —”

“Shut up,” he says hotly. “You are literally the most annoying person in this stupid camp.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He scowls, kicking a rock to avoid kicking her and setting both of them off again. It rolls over the grass, pinging off the side of one of the many braziers and rolling finally to a stop back at his feet. In its new position, it perfectly catches the brightly shining sun, refracting the light in a dandelion-esque burst.

“Huh,” he murmurs.

Wincing at his stiff joints, he crouches, vaguely registering Piper pausing somewhere to the left of him. He scoops the little thing up, bringing it close to his face to inspect.

It’s roughly cut, so it’s not anyone’s jewel or anything. Some of the pieces are textured with tiny little divots, like a regular stone, but some are straight and flat and catch the light. Some kind of crystal, then. It’s dense, about the size of a walnut, and shaped kind of like a brain. It is a very familiar shade of blue.

“Holt Hades, you are sappy.”

Nico flushes, shoving the rock into his pocket. “Nobody asked you, Piper.”

“I asked me! I am always asking me.” She jogs to keep up with his suddenly speedy strides, gripping onto the elbow of his shirt when he tries to move faster. “Is this Plan B? Little gifts.”

“It’s a rock,” he says shortly.

“Diamonds are rocks.”

“I didn’t get him a diamond.” He pauses. “Should I get him a diamond?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not the one in love with him.”

“Who said anything about —”

“Nico! Piper! Hey!”

“Notice who he called first,” she whispers, right in his ear. She grins over at Will before he can say anything. Or curse her. “Hey, Will! How are you?”

It is unfair for a person to look good in mint scrubs. They don’t even suit him, not really, but he still looks — well, he’s beautiful. His hair is poofier than usual and sticks out like he stuck his finger in a socket, and his beam is so bright Nico has to genuinely squint to look at him, and how is it, honestly, that his freckles look like dappled sunlight? That’s not normal.

“I’m okay.” He waves them inside, not bother to close the door behind them — it’s nice out, and Nico knows he prefers the breeze and sun. “Bored.”

“Not enough ocular surgery to perform?”

Will’s grin turns wry. “Nope.” He reaches out to brush his thumb across Nico’s eye scar. He freezes, holding his breath, hyperaware of those callused fingers as they approach the ever-warming skin of his face, heart galloping in his chest. As soon as Will makes contact — because of course the touch was to get his vitals, c’mon, Nico, head in the game — he frowns.

“Why are so many of your capillaries burst?”

Piper smiles guiltily, holding up a hand.

“I beat him up.”

“Wha — you did not!” He turns to Will, indignant. “We beat each other up! She’s lying!”

Will sighs. He glares at them both for a full forty seconds, then turns his face up to the heavens, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like I do not deserve to be surrounded by this kind of dumbassery. Send lightning through the sky if I should let them suffer.

Nico waits. No lightning comes forth.

Will sighs. “Cot, let’s go, y’all know the drill.”

Piper mouths y’all as she sits down. Nico mouths eat dirt back at her.

“Now, I could hum sum’n and —”

“Sum’n,” Piper whispers delightedly. Nico ignores her.

“— get y’all fixed up good, but y’all’ve pissed me off good —”

Nico takes the initiative to pillow-smack Piper in the face while Will’s back is turned. Luckily, it muffles her shriek.

“— so I’m not gonna do all that.” He closes the cupboard with his hip, hands full of vials. “Ain’t even gonna waste ambrosia on y’all, honestly. Y’get some bruise ointment and a Tylenol ‘cause I know y’all were up to shenanigans.”

He puts a lot of emphasis on ‘nan’. Nico knows he is trying very hard to be stern, but he is in fact very cute, and Nico is putting a lot of his brainpower towards memorizing the specific wrinkle pattern that Will’s nose gets when he’s annoyed. If he says that Will looks like a bunny he might actually get shot, no matter how much Will allegedly seems to like him, so he manages to choke down the sentiment. But it is indeed there.

“— and take it easy, y’hear? Bruises don’t heal in a day.”

Gods, his eyes are really, really pretty. He’s almost tired of thinking it, but they match the sky exactly, all the time. Poets write about sparkling eyes and pretty faces all the time, but all of them can choke because all of them are liars. Will Solace has the prettiest eyes of anyone who has ever lived. They are indeed the windows to the soul, and his soul is just —

“This is for you,” Nico blurts. Essentially acting on its own, his hand slips in his pocket and draws out the blue stone, holding it out. “Um. I saw it and —” He glances at Piper, panicked, and she kicks him in encouragement. “Thought of you. So.”

Will stares at the stone for a moment. Nico sweats.

“Nico di Angelo,” he chides, hands on his hips. The panicked look he flits in Piper’s direction grows tenfold. He is not at all comforted by the grimace she sends back. “Do you think I’m so corrupt as to accept a bribe?”

“Um.” Nico hesitates. Piper smacks her face onto her hands, groaning. “That’s not what I —”

“Well, you would be correct.” Quick as a bird, Will darts out and snatches the stone, sliding it into one of his many (many) shorts pockets, nodding in approval. “I don’t have any aventurine. I’ve been looking for it. Good bribe.”

He sets down the ointment and Tylenol, gesturing for Nico to hold out his hands. Nico sighs, then complies.

“I mean, he didn’t destroy it, this time,” Piper whispers as he begins to sing, enveloping Nico’s body in a warm, golden glow. “So…progress?”

“Progress,” Nico agrees. He glances over at Will, eyes squeezed shut in focus, and rolls his eyes fondly. “Who knew it would be so hard to convince someone who already likes me to go out with me.”

———

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heartfullofleeches · 3 months

Text

Mime Darling's Imaginary Friend Yan is a blind marionette. Their sight had been lost to them long ago for reasons even they don't seem to remember. Their eyes, what happened to them? All that remains where they rested in their skull is charred wood. For what feels like centuries, the puppet remains alone. Every once in a while, it hears something - the faint whistle of an instrument of some kind. It calls to them yet they fear making themselves known. They wouldn't want to disrupt the creative process such a melody, but soon comes a day when it's disturbed by other means as soft cries replace the sounds they once knew. This was not something they could allow.

"Hello? Is there someone there?... Can you speak to me? My eyes.... They're not what they used to be."

The other presence in the room doesn't reply for they cannot. Mime Reader reaches out - tapping the wooden figure on their arm. They're moreso embarrassed someone heard them cry - or listened to their harmonica practice than terrified of the creature before them.

"Can you not speak?... That's alright... Please, don't cry, dear. I love this other "voice" of yours so and it pains me to hear your sorrow. May I stay at your side and dry your tears so that I may hear it more often?"

The mime throws their arms around the marionette's husk. They themselves have been alone for some time and in need of companionship. If this doll was willing to be with them as they claimed, what was the harm in saying no?

"Thank you, my dear. I promise that as long as I am near nothing will ever hurt you again. This I swear to you. Is there any way you could tell me your name?"

The Mime traces their name on the back of the puppets hand.

"That is a beautiful name. It is a pleasure to meet you, Y/n."

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere oc #Yandere imaginary friend #mime reader

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mccoyquialisms · 8 days

Text

More bits from the 1st night of the London D20 live show that brought me joy:

The little “ooooohhhhHHHH” bit everyone in the atrium did as they were rolling the bingo cages for their characters

How NUTS everyone went when Lou got Fabian and everyone started chanting “hoot growl”

A second, just as loud cheer when Siobhan got Adaine and her and Lou ran around the stage together

Siobhan, unprompted: “GIVE ADAINE A GUN!”

Emily has apparently named a stray cat after Plug <3

Sydney straight up eating the ground (it’s ice cream, she’s fine. Sort of.)

“It’s a smell so counter to everything human life needs, in a way that almost kills you, but also, only in a way someone from New York can understand, makes you proud.”

The party refusing to call the candy wyverns anything other than “bugs”

Zac interrupting the ongoing banter to announce Skip is already boarded and sucking on the saddle of the wyvern

“I throw a flash grenade.” “I turn into a giant pigeon.” “I cast unseen servant to untie him.” “I shoot a guard.” “Okay, so everyone decides to do something SUPER SUBTLE.”

I mentioned it before but it’s SO good: “the DC is 500. Only a Nat 20 will do it.” Beardsley: [rolls a Nat 20 first try] [pandemonium in the arena]

“Have you seen Succession?”

The gabagool 🤌

“Adaine, we have saved the world multiple times. These are the scariest people we have ever met.”

Lou losing it at Sydney’s grenade having 1 point of poison damage in addition to all the bludgeoning damage

Skip gives Fabian a laser gun. He does not know what it is until he shoots Calroy with it

“Adaine, this gun thing you’re on? I get it.”

Cocaine Bear

“I YEETED YOU!”

Pete and Skip instant besties. Pete and Fabian instant enemies.

“You named him Anus and now I just have to do it the rest of the show!”

“I absolutely hate to add insult to injury…” “THEN DON’T!”

Adaine passing her wisdom save by 1 point to prevent Kugrash’s polymorph spell from turning her into a rat

The absolute ROAR that went up when Skip transformed into Lapin

“Anus?” “Not today.” “Not today WHAT?”

“I thought I was just on another planet starting a revolution I don’t intend to stick around for.” “America!”

Ally confidentially declaring Lapin and Aguefort have swinger vibes

“Do you want to just take him?” “Do you mean in the biblical sense?” “Another exciting use….”

[croaky voice] butterfly in the skyyyy

Pete opening 6 different flavors of seltzer while the rest of the party does kublacaine

Elaine Lee in the house!!!

Kugrash the greatest chaperone who ever lived

Lapin and Aguefort…and they were roommates…..Lapin’s “how do I look?” before they go into the egg fortress lmao

Syd’s perfume missile dealing 68 points of damage to Fabian and instantly knocking him unconscious. “Are you rolling D20s for damage???”

“I’m going to use my tides of chaos to reroll….worse.”

Tina the butterfly familiar that everyone totally remembers

“Well shit, any house where we kill the people in it becomes our house.”

Pete dissing Fabian so hard he feels the toxic masculinity coming back

Lapin requesting an exam extension for Adaine and Fabian from Arthur via dating app

The collective psychic damage everyone took from the “yar har har” scene

“Pete just starts dancing with a scarf in a way no one else has seen before.” “That’s my fucking thing!!!”

Sydney just enabling every pvp encounter alsdkghsdg. Giving Fabian unlimited capacity to his gun as he’s shooting Pete, with Fabian hitting twice and criting once.

“I can pleasure you or throw grenades, you gotta pick one.” “The first one, obviously!” “Okay!”

Lapin, Adaine and Kugrash chain smoking in the corner suffering through the pain of existence while the rest of party goes nuts around them

Murph incorporating the words “come/coming” as much as possible into Kugrash’s farewell speech while Brennan mimes Gilear’s enormous dick behind him. Not even Fabian’s battle sheet is enough to conceal that hog

“That’s right, I’m the king. And then I jump into the dumpster.”

GILEAR…MY…..OLD FRIEND………Aguefort and Gilear fwb real

“Not another person with their penis frozen to the walk in!”

#dimension 20 live #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 live #dropout #my musings #time quangle

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behindthesoul · 5 months

Text

Johnny Cage Dating Edenian Royalty

Masterlist || Not proofread

Happiest man in all the realms - I swear!

Johnny and you are the epitome of “me and the baddie I bagged by being funny.”

No one, especially Edenians, know why you’re together. Your mother, Sindel, would rather you be with someone more noble but you don’t care.

You’re happy and you’re free.

He would definitely try to get you to be in one of his movies. His newest idea is about a fish-out-of-water hero who dates the Empress’ child at the end of the movie. Guess who is playing who?

You would most likely have to decline, you don’t want the royal court to dislike your decision to be with Johnny more than they already do.

You (un)fortunately get the pleasure to hear many of his royalty jokes.

Why did the queen go to the dentist? To get her crown checked!

What does King Santa fly with? Reign-deer!

If you’re not the type to laugh at jokes like this, he’ll keep making them in hopes that he’ll one day be able to get you to crack a smile.

The words your highness spill out his mouth often. Either as a cute and affectionate pet name or something he says when he’s trying to piss you off.

Probably parades you around Sun Do like “fuck yeah I’ve got a super hot royal holding my hand and you don’t.”

Gets super smug seeing any jealous faces.

He’ll take you to Earthrealm and have a movie marathon. Johnny will show you all the classics as well as his own movies. I hope you like Ninja Mime 1, 2, and 3.

Johnny also shows you around. You’ll see breathtaking mountains and the shittiest looking restaurant all in the same day.

He really does love you more than anything and wants nothing more than to show that love off, but it may come off as him treating you as a trophy.

If you tell him it makes you uncomfortable he won’t understand at first. It’s possible for him to be a bit defensive. He’ll get it sooner or later, though. You’ll just have to make sure to explain it in a way he understands.

All in all, if you are Edenian royalty, date a slightly washed up actor from a different realm. He just may treat you like gold. <3

#mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat fanfic #mortal kombat 1 fanfiction #mortal kombat headcanons #johnny cage x reader

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sardonic-the-writer · 7 months

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢

↳ summary: another day with the turtles in which you get dragged behind and have your worst fear materialize in front of you. or; a reader insert of season two episode ten, fungus humongous

↳ warnings: unreality, body horror, mentions of gore, reader is a bitch, reader can't express their feelings, 2012 april (that's a warning in itself)

↳ notes: hinted at the reader having a thing for donnie, but it's left up to interpretation. could be read as platonic or for any other turtle/character. also i kind of hate this verson of april from the show, so apologies. i made the reader a bit passive aggressive to her when i could sneak it in there. could just be viewed at jealousy for donnie liking her. also, reader is gn and hinted at being autistic

↳ song: never—mag.lo & o super

next part! | masterlist! | commisions! | carrd

New York City was a strange place.

You'd learned that from a young age. Instead of watching a mother skip down the sidewalk with her chubby cheeked child in hand, you'd grown up around men with the same faces filing down side walks and inside of vans. Arms filled to the bring with glowing canisters and talking in the third person. Sometimes, in the place of cute stray cats or pigeons that you'd scramble off to feed bread to at the park, you'd see montserous shadows. Humans with the bodies of animals, making noises that would bring you to have nightmares for weeks to come.

Adults never believed you, writing it off as an imaginary friend, or simply the smoke in the air getting to you. And why should they belive anything else? It was as bizarre as it sounded, even to you.

Still, with all this weirdness, there were somethings you'd never get over. Like the fact those men that used to terrify you were actually robot powered aliens. Or that your best friends lived in the sewers, taught ancient ninjistu by their rat sensei.

But more importantly, you'd never get over how Casey Jones was absolutely demolishing this gyro right now.

With black and white facepaint smuged all over your friends cheeks and nose, you had the pleasure of sitting on the arm of a wooden street bench, watching with a blank expression as one of your two human friends tore into the street food, getting a bit of meat on April's shirt. Who by now had begun to regret sitting so close to him.

"You know Jones, I think this is the most disturbing thing I've seen all week." You grimaced. The hockey player had now moved onto licking the juice off his fingers, something you mimed violently vomiting at. April just rolled her eyes as she continued to listen to music.

"Ouch man!" Casey smirked as he pretended to be hurt by your words, crumbling up the left over paper from his meal and haphazardly tossing it on the ground below him.

"There's literally a trashcan right next to us." April sighed and looked up from her phone shaped like a turtles shell; or t-phone as you had come to know it. So generously gifted to her by the one and only Donatello.

You looked over to where she had gestured, holding one hand up to block the afternoons sun as it beat down upon you all. Sure enough, there was a rusty little bucket not far from the bench all of you had taken refuge on. Posters of all sorts of faded colors and advertisements were plastered on the cylinders sides. More lay fluttering in the hot wind on the pavement.

With a groan screaming of false annoyance, Casey stood up and meandered over to the litter, eventually tossing it with a swoosh into the basket.

"He shoots and he scores! Ten points for Jones." He pumped his fist in the air triumphantly, not caring that passerbys were now staring. Both you and April were subjected to an extremely bad victory dance as he celebrated.

"Now only if you could do that on the actual ice, Case." You grinned slyly. Casey frowned back at you, abruptly stopping his little celebration.

"I told you to stop calling me that. And whatever. Like you'd know the first thing about hockey." He said sourly. "Maybe if Red here gave me a good luck kiss before my games, I'd score more goals."

"And that's our cue to go." April stood up with a huff, pocketing her odd shaped phone. You stood up not far behind her, adjusting the strings on your hoodie. You knew April wasn't actually that upset by Casey's comment, in fact sometimes you thought she rather enjoyed the extra attention, but anything to stop his incessant flirting was a win for you.

"How about we head on down to the lair?" You suggested, noticing that the three of you were already making your way over to the nearest secluded manhole. "It has been a while since I've visited."

"Don't remind me." April smiled as she struggled to lift the solid peice of metal separating New York from its sewer sytem. "Mikey asks me where you are everytime I come down. He's even started pestering me for your address at this point."

"As much as I love the guys, I'm not sure my heart could take it if they started showing up on my fire escape every night. I don't need any more visits from Dr. Prankenstien than I already get." You snickered, following after Casey as he dropped down the ladder. He nodded along with your statement, holding his gloved hand out for a fistbump which you happily returned, albeit with a bit more force than necessary.

"Ooh, was that a challenge I just felt?" He grinned misheviously.

"Come on you guys." April scoffed, rolling her eyes at how both you and Casey punched each other in the arms and snickered.

"Just because you don't know how to have fun Red, doesn't mean we cant." Casey slung an arm around your shoulders with a toothy grin, yelping seconds later as you shoved him off of you with a frown.

"Right. Fun. That's exactly what I think of when I think Casey Jones April O'Neal and a stinky sewer." You parried.

"Hey! I thought you were on my side!" Casey frowned, jumping back up and rubbing the place you'd pushed him sorely. You stuck your tongue out at him and responded that he should know better than to touch you, then.

"Lay off guys." April chided you, missing the way your lips downturned at her words. "Besides. It's not like this place stinks that bad. You just have to get used to it."

You sniffed the air for a moment, immediately recoiling in disgust. Yeah. Definitely not.

"Sick dude."

"Actually," April halted in her speed walking to let the two of you catch up to her. As soon as you reached her side, you noticed the redhead was pinching her nose with a confused expression.

"Something does smell weird. Like— moldy cheese and puke."

You would've responded to her, probably with some sort of quipy comment, but the shrill sounds of a scream stopped you.

It didn't take long for the source of it to pass by you, what looked to be a sewer worker blubbering nonsense about a giant squirell. You were quickly reminded of a day a few months ago in which a mutated squirell clawed itself into your stoumach and reproduced. You shut down that memory with a shiver, jogging after an equally as panicked Casey and April to catch the stranger.

It only took a few turns around the place before all of you stood to a hault in a more open tunnel, no longer hearing the deep thump of the guys boots as he ran away from an unidentified source.

"Should we call out for him." You whispered, not really liking yourself for suggesting such a thing.

"Yeah. Go ahead Casey." April whispered right back, shoving the boy forward and shushing his protests. With a huff he started forward into the wet cavern.

"Hello? Crazy dude?" He sang. After looking around a tunnel opening for a few moments, Casey turned back to the two of you, gesturing harshly to follow him. You begrudgingly stepped forward, refusing to be at the end of the group where something could sneak up behind you. That privilege would have to be left to April.

"Somethings not right." She murmered. You turned to supply her with a sarcastic 'no, really?' but instead paused as she was sprayed in the face with a yellow substance. Blinking, you watched as she coughed in the powdery looking material. Another blink, and wherever it had came from was gone.

"April? You alright? What'd you see?" A hand was placed on her shoulder now. You felt the presence of Casey next to you now. Both of you were now watching as she began to shake, and you were staring to think that the scared worker might have actually seen something.

April's eyes opened suddenly, snapping to your face ferociously. You got one good look at her eyes, the whites of them tinged with yellow and red veins, before she let out the louded scream you'd ever heard. With a sudden speed you had no idea that she even had, April clawed at your hand wildly. You yelped, bringing it to your chest and scrambling back. Casey looked at you with wide eyes before turning back to April, catching the back of her just as she began to sprint away.

"April? April!!" He yelled, not making a move to chase after her. You did no such thing either, cradling your hand to your chest in shock. You didn't notice the little bit of blood trickling down from the moon shaped scratches. It stained your shirt, fading into a rust type color.

The two of you looked at each other in shock before speaking.

"What the fuck?"

Your lungs were screaming at you to stop by the time you'd reached the lair. You and Casey had both almost taken several breaks on your run along the abandoned railroad tracks, but once either of you got a look at your now less bloody hand— curtousy of a makeshift towel you called your shirt —the running would start again.

You thanked whatever god lied above for turnstiles as you flopped onto the cool metal of one, not even caring that Casey had to jump over both you and it to reach sight of the turtles. Who, from the sounds of it, we're watching a very loud episode of that old anime again.

"Oh hey guys. What's up?"

Before Casey could even open his mouth to respond to Raphael, a blur of orange and green was pouncing on you.

From his place sitting on your chest, Mikey yelled your name and smiled, clearly very happy to see you.

"Where have you been dude!" He laughed, getting off of you. Instead of allowing you to stand up or even explain yourself, he was suddenly grabbing you by your shoulders and bringing you into a spinning hug. Any other time you would have yelled at him to let you down and stop touching you, but now you were just yelling at him to shut up.

"Hey! You're here!" You heard Donatello call from afar, most likely waving. Maybe you did need to start visiting more if this is how they reacted to not seeing you for a month. Then again, anytime you came down here bad things happened. Like crushing hugs from a very strong mutant. Or best friends going insane.

"Guys! Stop!" Casey wheezed while waving his arms around wildly, succeeding in getting their attention. In turn Mikey let you down. Much to the appreciation of both you and your throbbing hand.

"April— sewers— gone crazy! Hurry!" He puffed, bending over to rest his hands on his knees.

The brothers all looked at each other with cocked eyebrows— save for Mikey; who was just now noticing the source of your discomfort.

"Woah, hey hey hey what happened to you?" He gasped with an overdramatic flair, picking your arm up by your wrist and pouting at the now dry blood on your hand. You smacked his own hand away from you, only feeling a bit regretful when he flashed a pair of sad puppy dog eyes at you.

"That's what we've been trying to tell you!" Casey groaned, extreamly annoyed at this point. "April attacked them! She went crazy! We were just on our way here, and next thing I know she starts acting all weird and runs off! She's gone!"

"Don't phrase it like that Case. Now Donnie's gonna—"

"You just lost April!?" You watched as the popcorn Donnie had been holding flew everywhere with the effort of him standing up. Well, standing up was a bit of an understatement. More like lept up.

With a sigh you watched Casey pale slightly, holding his hands up in preparation to defend the both of you.

"Relax!" Mikey sticks his tounge out at Donatello from next to you, still making grabby hands at you despite your efforts to keep him away. "I'm sure there's a logical explanation! Like she was eaten by a giant sewer snake or something. That's what you probably got bit by too." He turns to you at the last part and smiles. You resist the urge to smack him on the head.

"April clawed me you doofus. I didn't get bitten by a snake."

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth, you witnessed Casey get absolutely steamrolled by Donnie, yelling about how everyone needs to go find April. The action put a bit of a grimace on your face. Why, you had no idea, but you found yourself following after him anyway, grumbling that you better get free pizza for life after all you put up with for them.

Water splashed around your now ruined shoes as you followed after the turtles, occasionally kicking at a stray rock.

The sewers were much darker than earlier now. The dim light was no doubt provided by the setting sun outside. It was surely getting late now, and your body ached with the pang of hunger you normally got around dinner time. It would've bothered you, but you were more focused on not tripping over concrete and landing face first in shit right now.

You came to a sudden stop behind Casey, faintly recognizing your surroundings. One of his hockey sticks poked you in the forehead as he turned to adress everyone, and you rubbed at the spot.

"I think this is where we lost her." His voice was punctured with a little stammer, clearly a lot more bothered than he let on. A quick glance up confirmed that this was the spot the three of you had climbed down from a bit ago. You couldn't help but imagine the people on the streets above. Walking around without a care in the world. Certainly not thinking about kids loose down in the sewage.

"You think!? Oh well thats not vauge or anything." Donatello's angry voice called from behind you. It was enough to make you jump, something you'd deny if pointed out.

"Back of stick-master!" Casey snapped.

"Who you calling stick-master, puck-head!"

"Shut up Donnie." Any other day, and their bickering would have amused you. But right now just wasn't the time— if the look on your face wasn't evident enough.

The purple clad turtle turned to look at you in slight confusion, not expecting backlash from anyone that wasn't Casey. The others shared his look, too. At least before Casey let out a smug laugh, crossing his arms and stancing up before Donnie.

"You too, Jones. We need to get moving." You glared at the both of them icily, shouldering forward without a care. You missed the way the turtles exchanged glances with each other behind your back as they followed after.

"You alright?" Leo had called your name, water rippling around the both of you as he sped up to touch your shoulder tentivley. It wasn't a surprise when you shrugged it off. You always did that.

"Yes, Leo. I'm fine. I'd just like to find April and get a bandaid before I need another tetanus shot. Or whatever bacteria comes with human fingernails."

"She really did that to you, huh?" He pursed his lips with thought. Or whatever turtles have in replacement of lips.

You looked back at him, a harsh response sitting on your tounge. It was only the curious look he gave you that stopped it from becoming a reality.

"Yeah. It's whatever, I'll just patch it up when this is all done." You sighed through your nose.

"I think Master Splinter might have some bandages somewhere." Leo supplied, a hand on his chin as he thought about it. "If not, I'm sure Donnie has some medical supplies laying around—"

"If it's fine with you guys, I think I'll just go home and do it myself. Yeah?" You turned, walking in an awkward sideways position to keep the conversation going while looking at him.

Leo's furrowed his brow, flitting his eyes around your face in favor of ignoring Mikey from behind, who was saying something about rats while Casey retched.

"It's nothing against you, I just—"

You stopped suddenly, attention drawing itself to something over Leo's shoulder.

He turned his head quickly, hand twitching in the direction of his katanas hilts as he looked for what you were eyeing. All he saw was Casey stumbling around, coughing while waving a hand in front of his face.

You brushed past Leo, making your way to the back of the group to approach Casey. To quote April from earlier, something didn't feel right.

"Dude? You ok?"

"Yeah." He sniffed loudly. Like he had a cold. You watched cautiously as he avoided looking at you, instead focused on a nearby tunnel that split off from the main one you all were standing in. "I just. Just thought I saw—"

You were sent backward with an omph as Casey jumped back, yelping like a wounded dog. Your eyes locked with his for one moment, and your own widened as you noticed the same yellowy-red veins as before. Only this time, they were in the edges of Casey's eyes. Not April's.

"Demon rat!" He yelled. Hockey gloves pawed for purchase against the concrete wall he had pressed himself against as Casey scrambled to get a hold of something. He looked crazed. As if he could see and hear something you all couldn't.

It only worsened. You watched in a combination of confusion and horror as he began to dance around, hitting at himself like he had just walked through the world's biggest cobweb; screaming at you all to get them off him.

With a nod of affirmation from Leonardo, Donnie and Raph slammed Casey into the wall opposite he had just been clinging to. You caught a bit of satisfaction on Donatello's face as he did so, something that made you sober up for a moment to roll your eyes.

"What is your malfunction?" Raph scoffed before letting Casey's left arm go. Donnie followed, backing up with his hands on his hips sourly.

All Casey could do was let out a sob. He dropped to his knees on the ground, unscathed hockey stick clattering next to him.

"Guys, I think I have an idea of what's going on." One more look at Casey's distraught gaze sold it for you, and you leaned over to tell the others.

Right as they turned to you, a shrill screamed pierced the air, setting itself apart from Casey's defeated moaning.

"That's her!" You heard Donatello gasp. "April!"

And then Donnie was off, sprinting in the nearest direction of the sound without a care. It was like everything else was background noise to him. Your eye twitched as everyone else filed after the tall turtle, not once stopping to take in anything else. You grit your teeth, looking down at Casey's slumped figure before deciding to follow after them, cursing silently under your labored breathing.

By the time you'd caught up with them, they were all surrounding the newly found April in a semi circle, with Donnie crouching down to gently touch her leg. You could hear words of comfort floating from him to her at a rapid rate, and you might have said something snappy under different circumstances.

"Do you guys hear that?" Leo's hand came up for a moment to silence everyone. The remaining turtles standing all turned to look behind them and were met with the sight of you.

"Just me guys. No monster." You sarcastically spread your arms out.

"No. That!" Leo's finger pointed to something below you, and you turned on your heel to observe.

There was a strange blue sphere on the ground at your feet. It bumped into you once before stilling and flattening to the ground. Strange white stripes patterned it, and you all watched as it transformed into a mushroom looking shape.

You were quick to fall back towards April, who was still screaming and grunting in horror, as the others surrounded it curiously.

"It's a mutant mushroom! With feet!" Mikey cooed, clasping his hands together. That only solidified your worries.

"I'd get away from that if I were you!" You called out. Donnie, Leo, and Raph all looked at you for an explanation while Mikey continued to gush over the thing.

"Listen, something weird is going on with April and Casey's eyes, and I think it has something to do with, like, spores—"

You were shut down as the small glowing mushroom attacked Mikey, attaching itself to his face. The youngest turtle screamed and clawed at his face whilst running in circles. His sounds of distress only increased as the organism appeared to suck at his face. For a moment your brain made the connection between Mikey jumping on you earlier, and the fungi gluing itself to his head. You blinked and got rid of that thought as soon as possible.

The boys immediately jumped into action, weapons coming out as soon as Mikey threw the thing off his face and at the nearest wall. It was times like these you really wished you'd taken up Splinters offer to learn martial arts, but you'd convinced yourself you already had too much on your plate for that. At least you knew how to wield a tazer well enough.

"Fascinating!" You heard Donatello grunt inbetween swings of his bo staff. "Evolved fungi!"

All it took was a few more jabs from Raph before a yellow haze drifted his way, emerging from the flaps underneath the mushrooms umbrella.

Without missing so much as a beat, the thing rose into the air and flew in your direction, looking as if to make a home on your face now. With a quick unholstering of the only defense mechanism you had, you produced your cheap tazer, nailing the thing straight between the eyes. Er, did it even have eyes. Either way, it dropped to the floor, and the air began to smell less like piss and more like sautéed shrooms.

"Just stab the damn thing next time!" You yelled, hands shaking and still holding out the tazer at arms length. All the turtles but Raph looked at your trembling arms with wide eyes, and you crossed your arms stiffly to cover it up. They didn't need to see how upset you were getting right now.

You would never understand why they all went for blunt force trauma instead of using the edges of their weapons to slice stuff. Maybe it was a ninja thing. A really, really stupid ninja thing.

"Are you alright?" Leo stepped forward with his arm outreached, voice soft with what you hoped to god was not pity. Donnie followed suit, and for a moment you though he might be the slightest bit worried about you. At least, until he brushed right past your shoulder to go cradle April again.

"Just peachy Leonardo." You growled at him, and he retracted at the use of his full name. "It's not like I've been trying to explain what I think has been going on for the past— oh come on."

You were immediately cut off as Raph began to scream at the sight of you all. With each passing second, the urge to bash your head into the wall was getting stronger and stronger. Now you remember why you stopped coming down here so often— if this tension headache you were getting was proof enough for that.

With a few more unintelligible shouts, Raph jumped at Leo with a battle cry, looking like he was out for blood. Leo simply crouched down, letting Raph fly over him and land plastron first on the ground.

"Donnie, explination?" Mikey shouted. He was now brandishing his own nunchucks and swirling them around hesitantly.

"Wish is knew!"

"I smashed you once roach and I'll smash you again!" By now Raphael was up again. This time he was ready to attack with more than just his bare fists, and was gunning right for Leo.

"Roach?"

That clicked it all into place for you. With one more look around the tunnel, sounds of fighting echoing off the walls, you cupped your hands around your mouth.

"The mushrooms are spreading a fear toxin!" You shouted with the risk of losing your voice th next day. If you even stuck around long enough to see the next day.

"Thats why everyones eyes are turning different colors and they're acting so weird! The plants are making them see their worst fears!" This time you thought you might explode if the turtles didn't hear you. Thankfully, you watched as a bit of recognition creeped into Donatello's face at your words as he dodged another attack from Raph.

"Its fungi, not plants, but they're right!" He yelled over all the noise. With a yell, he caught one end of Mikeys nunchucks in his hand and wrapped it around Raph's torso, watching as Mikey did the same with his end. By the time they were done, Raphael was now a squirming mess on the ground, looking just as terrified as Casey and April did. Only he was more dangerous than them. A lot more dangerous.

"So what, you're telling me that that tiny little guy is causing all of this?" Leonardo huffed while standing to his full height. Mikey was the sole one restraining Raph now as you approached them all.

"That's what I've been trying to say for the past ten minutes when you keep inturrupting me!!" You seethed. Leo was the only one who had the chance to look sympathetic. That didn't stop you from hitting him on the top of his shell in frustration.

"Ow! We're sorry, we're sorry!" He winced.

"Good." You sighed, already starting to feel a little better about this situation. The hollow feeling of behind over looked still lingered, but you were focused on other more important things now. Like finding out how to counteract whatevers being sprayed around.

"Donnie, do you think if we got back to your lab you could test this for a solution?" You didn't even have to turn around to know that he was busy fawning over April, instead just amplifying your voice so he was sure to hear.

"Maybe—" He mused, bringing his hand up to rub at his chin thoughtfully. You'd been in his lab enough times to know what he was about to go off on a tangent, "—but it's more likely that there's an easier solution to this problem. Fungi normally spawn from a bigger sorce, and since there seems to be a cluster around here infecting our friends, there must be the orgins of it nearby."

"So we find it, and do some gardening." Leo smiled from beside you, bringing out his blades in a gaudy move. You just gave him a blank stare.

"What? It was a good line!"

"You need to work on your improv skills, Leo."

He sighed and lowered his weapons. Cocking one side of his hip up in the way that he does when he goes into leader mode, Leonardo went to say something else to you—probably that you all should get a move on—when a flash of neon blue entered your peripheral.

"Oh shit!"

A mouthful of nasty tasting yellow dust spread all over the bottom half of your face in a fine mist. It settled on your tongue, feeling like partials of a cotton ball had been sprinkled on it. Coughing, you stuttered in your stance to heave forward. This felt different than what you thought it would be like. You didn't think that the ground was supposed to be swirling like that.

The last thing you saw before the world flipped on it's axis was a bo staff cutting the mushroom above you in two.

You woke up with your head feeling like someone had used it as a drum in a marching band.

"Did any of you get the number of that bus that completely fucked me over?" You groaned out sardonically, not willing to open your eyes and subject yourself to the light of the world just yet.

When no one responded, you reluctantly pried your eyelids open.

You were in a different tunnel now. It looked like it belonged to the same one connecting your friends lair to anywhere else in the city, but what did you know. It wasn't like you knew anyone who lived down here or anything.

Hauling yourself up took more strength than you wanted to admit. Half of your face felt numb, and the other hald itched something awful. The sensation was killing you almost as much as this silence was. Almost.

Standing all but a few meters away from you were six figures. They looked to be your friends, but something was off. They were all motionless with their backs faced to you, and covered in a thick layer of what looked like black goo. It dripped off of them and to the ground, pooling between their feet and leaking in your direction.

"Guys?"

As soon as you take a step in their direction, all their heads snap toward you at an unnatural angle. You half expect a cracking of bones to follow the movement, but all you hear is the sound of your heart drop.

"What's going on." This time you take a step back, not forward.

It's at this point that you notice your surrounding changing. It never stays the same for more than a second, constantly twisting into something more frightening than the last; all plucked from your worst memories. The kraang cell you had been thrown in once. The pool you had been forced to take swimming lessons in as a child. Your eigth grade classroom, watching as your teacher explained to your parent that you'd never amount to anything.

Finally it settled on the lair.

You refused to be backed into a corner like all those horror flicks you'd seen with the boys. With each step the figures of your friends took, you took one back, shuffling around in circles to avoid getting trapped.

You were starting to get lightheaded with how fast you were breathing at this point.

"What?" You eventually murmered, your pupils pinpricks at this point. Your ears strained to pick up what sounded like words in response.

"Leave." Was what you eventually heard come from the clone of Raphael. Because that's what he was. A clone. Not the real thing. He couldn't be. The Raph you know wouldn't tell you to leave.

The more you thought about it, the less true that seemed.

"Leave?" You echoed. The back of your foot hit one of the arcade machines lying around before you scrambled to get around it.

"We don't need you anymore." This time your eyes snapped to the clone of Mikey. His eyes were nothing but static in that eerie black goo. You couldn't bring yourself to look at it for more than a second.

"I don't understand." Words were becoming harder and harder to pronounce. You tripped over them as your footsteps slowed.

"They never valued you. Even as a human, I could see that." The verson of Casey hissed through his distorted mask. It looked more like an actual skull than the crude spray painted verson you had grown so accustomed to.

"Why did you think we'd ever like you, when you've never even tried to like us." Leo was the second closest to you and approaching slowly. His speed should have reassured you, but something about the unrelenting and unchanging pace only made you want to hurl.

"I do like you guys!" Instead of a fierce cry coming from your throat, it was a pathetic whine. A round of hissing laughter passed through the ranks of your friends. Wait, your fake friends. These weren't the real ones. You knew that. You felt like you were supposed to know that.

"Pathetic." April's voice sounded like it came from a scratched record. Her teeth sharpened with each syllable. "I was here first. And I'll be here long after you."

"Shut up!" It was your turn to yell. You didn't mean for it to be so loud, you really didn't, but the words tore itself from you like a scream. You didn't scream. You really didn't. Not in front of other people. Not like this.

Your feet had stopped moving now. They felt like lead. Incapable of moving any further without the force of a hundered men. When you looked down, you discovered they were ensnared in metal cuffs that tightened the more you hyperventilated. Twelve chains lead away from them. You followed each with your eyes, eventually finding yourself staring right back at the soupy expanse of your six former friends. Twelve chains. Two for each of them. One in each hand.

You were brought to the floor and dragged forward. Your pants tore against the floor, leaving what was sure to be a plethora of holes if you were to check.

Fingernails broke off and bled as you desperately tried to clawed away. You reached at the hem of your pants to look for your tazer, only to come up holding a ripped picture.

It was the one you had taken of everyone after defeating the kraang. It had been a celebration. A time to bathe and relax in the fact that you all had won. Everyone had smiled as you set the five second timer on your phone, Mikey even sticking a pair of bunny ears over Raphs head without him noticing.

You looked at the spot where you were supposed to be, only met with the sight of a cut out hole.

"Out of all the delusions that have run through your head—" You looked up at the only one that had yet to speak yet. Donatello's gap toothed grin sneered down at you from your spot on the floor, your mouth drying at the mere sight of it.

"From us actually caring about you—" The chains around your legs were only spreading higher along your body now, growing past your hips.

"To thinking that we actually cared when you'd visit again—"

Donatello crouched down. The black ooze around his face parted for just a moment. Instead of the cool tint of his green skin being revealed, or that purple bandana you had hidden many times in a playful manner, all you saw were tissue sinew and blood. Flesh peeled away and drooped down his face like sad wallpaper. You choked on your own bile as he grinned at you without skin around his mouth, making a grotesque clicking sound with his teeth.

The only thing that remained normal was his reddish brown eyes. They looked at you, locking you in place with a liquid hate you had only seen from him in your nightmares.

"The funniest delusion of all, was believing that I could possibly like a person like you."

Your eyebrows pulled together in terrified confusion. Sweat dripped down your head and trickled uncomfortably to the ends of your earlobes. Your chest felt the tightest it had in your life; heartbeat practically nonexistent.

You wanted to say you had no idea what he was talking about. That he was being insane. More insane that what was already going on. But the way you reacted to his words, your ears ringing with hurt and eyes pricking with acidic tears, you knew there was some truth to it. Why you were constantly put out with his efforts to pursue April. How your face dropped at each lovestruck look he tossed at the back of her head. All those jokes you'd made about Donnie being insufferable when your friend was around; maybe not being as much of a joke as you'd thought.

You don't think you'd ever realized your ulterior motives in all those acts yourself. Maybe you wouldn't have ever if it hadn't been pointed out.

Nothing more was said, because nothing else had to be. Donatello's face sewed itself back up with a sick slurping noise, returning to fuzzy gray eyes and a black exterior. With prolonged movements, he reached for the staff on his back. It was also dripping with goo, a few droplets splattering on your already ruined clothes as he hovered one end over your face. You recognized it as the end a blade was set to come out of.

Looking back up at all of them, the chains in their hands were all gone. They didn't need them anymore. It's not like you would be going anywhere. After all, everything below your head was encased in metal. Set to rot for all eternity.

A flash a silver and the snap of a button being clicked was what sent you into darkness for a second time

"I think they're waking up!"

"Get off my table Mikey. You'll break something again!"

"Is it too late to punch his face in?"

"Guys shut up. They're awake."

Taking a moment to steel your nerves against all of the elements suddenly attacking your senses, you inhaled with a hiss, an earthquake of deja vu sweeping over you with its delightful aftershock know as nausea.

The feeling of a cold metal slab underneath you alerted you that you were in Donnies lab. Most likely lying face up on his makeshift opperating table he'd crafted out of a d.i.y welding set and spare metal slab. And if any of the very poorly concealed whispering told you anything, there were going to be quite a few mutant turtles staring down at you when you opened your eyes.

You decided to peak one open to check.

Yep. Definitely a few of them.

"I saw that! Hey, did you guys see that! Their eye moved!" You heard what was most likely Mikey flail around somewhere on your left side. A few frustrated voices snapped at him to calm down, resulting in what you guessed was a raspberry to be blown back at them.

"We know you're awake." Raphael called your name blandly. You answered with what you thought was going to be a coherent string of curses, but instead was just a really scratchy sounding groan.

"I think they said, Michelangelo is the bestest turtle of all time. And also the handsomest." You felt three giant fingers grab onto the flesh of your jaw and move your mouth up and down as Mikey did a horrible impression of your voice. Treating you almost like you were a life sized ventriloquist dummy. With a grunt and a strain of your neck, you garnered enough strength to reach up and bite at his finger, inwardly pumping your fist in the air as you heard him yelp and the feeling of fingers left your face.

"Ok now we know for sure you're awake sleepy head." You felt another finger poke the side of your head, retracting fast enough so you didn't have to chance to bite them too.

Finally giving into the curse known as getting out of bed, you opened both your eyes and tilted your head down to stare at seven sets of separate eyes.

Even Master Splinter was here. You must have been out for a while.

"How long." Was all you could manage as you propped yourself up on your elbow.

"Ten years."

"How long, Donatello." You enunciated Donnies name this time, glaring at Casey who looked very amused at his own joke.

"Fourteen hours." He barely glanced up from something he was tinkering with in his lap, looking rather focused. "It's almost noon."

That was enough to shock you up, looking around to land on April's figure as you sputtered.

"Our presentation was due today." You coughed out. She nodded, bringing her t-phone out and gesturing to it.

"I already called the school. Said we had both spent the night together and got sick. They bought it like a charm."

"What about you Casey?"

"Eh. I never show up to class anyways." He shrugged. "What's another absent day for the Jones?"

"That might explain the lack of intelligence." You heard Donnie whisper. It was followed by a soft crack and him yelping in surprise. You looked and saw nothing but a faint red mark forming on Donnies arm. If you glanced at Splinter long enough, his tail twitched once as he smiled.

"Well that's good to know." You nodded at April. "Now can someone tell me why I'm surrounded by everyone I know this side of the Hudson?"

"Like Donnie said, you were out for fourteen hours dude! That's, like a whole day! We were worried." Mikey waved his arms in the air wildly and spun around in a rolly chair. You weren't sure where he got it from, but Donatello didn't look to happy about it.

"My sons told me about what happened." Splinter interjected. Everyone turned to look at him as he leaned on his emerald cane, eyes sparkling with a fierce emotion you couldn't place.

"You were all very brave in your mission. For that I comend you. But it seems that out of everyone, you were hit the hardest by the fungus." He ended his statement in your direction with a calm tone, doing nothing to ease your worries. Breaking eye contact with him was harder than you would have liked.

"So you guys figured out how to stop it then?"

"More like Leo did." April smiled. "We found him passed out and surrounded in shriveled mushrooms, looking like he had the fight of his life."

"Against a colony of shrooms?"

"The biggest one was at least fifteen feet tall."

"I take it all back. Leo you're the best." You snickered as you carefully slid off the table, feeling confident enough to stand now. You did your best to ignore the feeling of so many sets of eyes as you did so.

"So. What was your hallucination about?" Raph was the one to break the ice, scouring your face for any sort of hint. You barely held back a wince at the question. Maybe if the memory had come back to you in bits and pieces like it did to people in the movies, the question wouldn't have off put you that bad. But instead, you'd woken up and found yourself already remembering each and every bit of the nightmarish hell you'd been trapped in.

"Raph's was about cockroaches!" Mikey sang, laughing as he poked fun at his older brother. Raphael just growled and curled his fists into balls, probably holding himself back because Splinter was standing right next to him.

"Yeah? Well Mikey's was about alien squirells!" He pointed a finger at his brother angrily. And offended gasp punctuated his accusatory tone.

"It's squirellanoids! And they are much scarier than cockroaches or rats!" Mikey whined back.

"Rats?" You question, tossing a split second glance to Splinter. Somewhere next to you Casey groaned, clearly the culprit of what you assumed had been the fur induced visions.

"Can we go back to what your thing was now?" Casey said with hot ears, clearly not appreciating his fear being put on blast while April was in the room.

You pursed your lips and directed your gaze to the lab wall behind everyone. Peeling skin and puddles of oil looking sludge flashed behind your lids each time you blinked. With it left the stabbing sensation of tears. Something you despised; especially while in the presence of others.

"Nothing much." Was what you settled on, moving forward before anyone could say anything else. "What about you, Donnie? Did you end up getting sprayed?" It was almost ironic how you immediately chose to single him out after replaying the events of your nightmare in your head. A part of you scoffed at it.

"I uh—" His face grew warm at your query and he refused to met your gaze, "—I don't want to talk about it."

With a shrug you dropped the topic.

"Mind if I go get something to eat? I, uh, kind of feel like I'm dying here." You nodded toward the door nearest the kitchen, once again changing the subject. Mikey immediately ran to it at the mention of food, screaming about pizza. According to the others, he had been waiting all day to crack open a pizza to eat with you. And you weren't about to deny him now.

As everyone filed out into the common room, a light hand placed itself on your shoulder. Without even looking back you knew who it belonged to and only confirmed it once locking eyes with Master Splinter.

"My child," He began softly. "I know we do not have the bond you do with my sons, but if you ever feel troubled, my dojo is always open for you. The mind is your most powerful weapon, and it would be a mistake to let it stew in its own treachery."

You didn't make a move to shrug his hand away or even leave. Instead you looked at him curiously, searching for even a hint of insincerity. When you found none, you just nodded.

"Now go. I know you are eager to join the others."

Splinter watched as you retreated to the playful shouting coming from the other room, hands coming to rest on the peak of his cane once more. You reminded him of his sons. Too much of his sons.

He was just glad that you'd all found each other. He might have gone insane if he had to entertain those boys the rest of his life.

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bellewintersroe · 8 months

Text

Sebastian Vettel x RBDesignEngingeer! Reader - Smut.

Set in 2013 during the GP, Jennifer is fresh out of uni and has made a name for herself within the F1 world. She joins Redbull-Renault as one of their engineer designers and easily fits into the team, forming friendships easily. Most of all, she captures the attention of three time world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

Part 9 - here is the LINK to the previous part. Warning: graphic description of male masturbation, don’t read if you’re not comfortable, Jen feels awkward the next day overhearing Seb doing such an intimate thing- I couldn’t leave you guys hanging for this next chapter 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️

Taglist: @rainerax

Sebastian’s sigh’s only continued, and they weren’t just sighs oh my god, the man was groaning, moaning in his room. He was alone, that was for certain, I could only stay frozen, staring at the wall in utter shock. He was touching himself.

The heat immediately rushed to my pussy, and when he let out a particularly louder groan I couldn’t help but tense my legs together. There was a brief pause before I could hear the sound of his hand moving now against his cock, the wet sound causing me to purse my lips. “Oh yeah.” He lowly muttered to himself followed by another groan. My eyes widened and I covered my mouth in surprise. Had he not realised the door was left open?! Holy fuck.

I could hear everything and more, his curses, breathing growing heavier, sighs, groans, moans, even when I heard him spit onto his cock, lubricating himself, adding to the noise. He wasn’t being particularly loud, but with the door cracked slightly open I was hearing more than enough. Worst of all, I didn’t know whether I was weird for listening in. “Fucking hell.” Sebastian cursed on a moan as he shifted on the bed, quickening his pace as I bit down harshly on my lip, my hand tightening around the duvet cover. I didn’t dare move, I didn’t want to make a sound. I almost felt dizzy from the situation, I was already drunk and now he was doing this?! I contemplated touching myself, but I felt like a creep, I’d just have to ignore how horny he was making me and attempt to block it out. Worst of all, I couldn’t. His moans were increasing and the sound of his hand slapping against his wet cock drove me crazy. He was so vocal, sounding borderline desperate as I closed my eyes. I wondered what he was thinking about, me? How we were dancing? He was painfully hard in the club, I could feel my ass rubbing up against him.

Sebastian wasn’t particularly saying anything apart from the odd curse, I suppose he had nobody to speak to. He was masturbating, and god he sounded so good. Maybe I should’ve burst in and jumped right onto him, pleasuring him with my mouth, riding him so I could hear even more of those delicious moans. But I didn’t.

All I could do was lay, paralysed in shock as I listened to Sebastian playing with himself in the other room. “Fuck.” He cursed, voice cracking as I silently mimed the words, ‘oh my god’. He sounded too fucking good, I was so hungry for his cock, blinded by horniness as I listened to his whimpers grow.

I could picture him, cock in his hand, sprawled in the bed, jaw slack as his legs spread. The movements increased and the bed dipped slightly. “Fuck..” Sebastian panted, “Jen-” my eyes widened and a shock ran through me, one like no other. The sound of him snatching for a tissue as his pants increased in both speed and volume. Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god!

I listened to Sebastian orgasm, cumming into his hands with the hottest groans I had ever heard. My head was spinning as his breathing slowed. He was thinking about me?! I almost couldn’t believe it, he’d made himself cum thinking about me.

I could barely get back to sleep after that, I laid for a few more minutes, just staring at the wall before I finally decided to turn over onto my other side. When I did I heard a quick, “shit!” Before the door between our bedroom closes. I pursed my lips, somewhat amused by the fact he’d only just realised. What, however, wasn’t so amusing was breakfast the following day. Not only was I extremely hungover, but I kept zoning out, unable to look at Sebastian without burning up. My mind was in daydream land all morning and all I could do was stare at something, getting major flashbacks from the previous night. “You’re in your own world this morning. Aren’t you?” Mark Webber nudged me as I snapped back, glancing over to him. All eyes were on me, including Sebastian’s. “Just hungover.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. “Really hungover.” I turned back down to my plate of food that I had barely touched. I think my vodka would’ve caused me to puke it back up before I’d even got a few mouthfuls in. “You were pretty drunk.” James exclaimed, causing my eyebrow to cock. “I was pretty drunk? Do you remember Seb and John carrying you to bed?” When I spoke Sebastian’s name, I stole a glance. The blonde blushed, smiling slightly in my direction as my heart leapt. His moan of my name replayed fresh in my mine, my fork accidentally clattering to the table below. “Oops.” I winced, reaching out to put it still. When I did, a hand reached over to catch the cutlery before it clattered too loud. Sebastian’s hand. I audibly gasped, very dramatically, making eye contact before abruptly placing the fork back onto my plate. The same hand that Sebastian placed on mine was the same one that- “I think- I think I’m done. I’ll see you all later, I can’t eat this right now.” With a shuffle, I pushed myself back, seeing everybody’s eyes following me. It was a little quick, I scurried back up to my hotel room, my hungover mind racing with impure thoughts. “Hey wait-” a voice called out. I spun around to see exactly who I’d just been thinking about. Sebastian, I swallowed harshly, staring right at him. “A-are you okay? Did I do- did I do something wrong?” He slowly stammered, moving a little closer as we stood at the doorway of my hotel room door.

I stepped a little closer, my feelings being overwhelming as I shook my head. Surely there was enough signs from him that he wanted me? Surely? Reaching up on my toes, I reached for his face gently, moving a little faster to press my lips firmly on his. Finally…

#sebastian vettel smut #sebastian vettel 2013 #sebastian vettel fanfiction #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader smut

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starleska · 11 months

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Okok I've been sorta stalking your Wally writings for a bit and I WAS WONDERING- could I maybe get a Wally Darling x a person who stutters a lot when they're excited? I've been pretty insecure and in need of wally fluff if you're not too busy -w- remember to drink some water!! Thank you and have a wonderful day!

hello sweetie!!! haha, thank you very much for the stalkings, they're greatly appreciated - and for reminding me to stay hydrated! 🥰 ohhh this one is lovely!! 😭🙏 please don't worry, you needn't be insecure - stutters for any reason are just a natural part of human speech, and they're part of you, which is perfect 💖 i hope you enjoy :3c

Wally Darling x Reader with a Stutter headcanons

💖 the first time you meet Wally Darling, you're completely overwhelmed and can barely get a word out. on the best of days you're self-conscious about your stutter, but Wally is so drop-dead gorgeous he would've made anyone struggle to speak!! you flush, drop your eyes and fumble with your hands, feeling that familiar embarrassment welling up over you; it's so frustrating not being able to say what you mean. but you feel a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and look up to see Wally smiling and nodding at you. "Take your time," he says gently. "Sometimes speaking is hard for me too. You can say a lot with just your eyes." his warm demeanour is like slipping into a hot bath, and you let that comfort wash over you. although you're still bubbling with excitement and have trouble holding his gaze, you don't feel quite so self-conscious in Wally's presence.

💖 sometimes other people get impatient with your stutter, and try to talk over you - but Wally is having none of that. whenever someone tries to interrupt you or rush you along, Wally will confront them both reasonably, and in a way which shames them at the same time. "Isn't that quite rude of you, not letting them finish?" he asks, tilting his head on the side. "I sure am interested in what they have to say." whenever he does this, you feel a guilty rush of pleasure you're not used to: a sort of power reclamation, thanks to Wally reminding people that you deserve to be heard. you wonder if this has anything to do with Wally's unnerving stare...those who are on the receiving end of Wally's sweet passive-aggression never make the same mistake twice.

💖 it's common for you to have days where you feel down on yourself for your stutter, and Wally is always there to comfort you when this happens. even when everyone around you is perfectly kind and understanding, some days you figure it's best that you don't talk at all, and refuse to speak even to your closest friends. Wally notices when you're feeling this way, and likes to play a little 'zip-mouth' game with you, where he mimes locking his lips and throwing away the key. it becomes a contest to see who can go without speaking the longest, and Wally is very good at presenting interesting situations or funny gestures to try and make you talk and laugh. Wally never loses this game, and when you do finally break and speak to him - often giggling so much that you forget feeling bad about your stutter - Wally likes to lift your confidence. "There's that lovely voice," he says. "I missed it a lot. Let's not do this again soon, okay?"

#wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #wally darling #welcome home #welcome home arg #starleskasks #starleskawrites

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Text

Infiltration part 5

Keegan x F!reader

I can’t lie this isn’t even enemies to lovers anymore. I don’t know what this is lmfao, just enjoy the ride I guess. Thank you to @taurus-ted for being my hype man 4eva

Warnings - 18+, minors DNI, all the smut, p in v, spit play, praise kink, voyuerism, masturbation, breath play, dom/sub theme, sub keegan. The reader is not a good person in this

‘Hope it was worth it’ Claude huffed as he sat at your desk, disgust evident in his features. Scowling at him you tapped at your keyboard ‘it was actually’ you hummed. Slowly you turned your laptop to face him, an audio programme already running. Turning up the speaker muffled voices could be heard. Realisation spread over Claude’s face at what you’d managed to pull off.

You’d bugged the Ghosts.

‘Still think my little indulgence wasn’t worth it?’ You smirked as you listened in on their conversation.

‘You fucked her didn’t you?!’ It was Merrick, clearly not impressed by Keegan’s actions. ‘I can fuckin smell her on you. Fuck were you thinking?!’ He was furious, which only turned your smirk into a smile. ‘Did you even get any names?’

Claude shot a glance towards you, a flash of disbelief. ‘Relax Claude I didn’t say shit.’ You motioned for him to continue listening.

‘Yeah, she gave me names. All of em. Said she’d give me more when I go back.’

‘When you go back?! Keegan. She’s got you round her fucking finger. Goddamn it. How do we even know these are real?’

That’s when you shot your own look over to Claude, who relaxed at the implied betrayal. Flexing your brows you smiled, ‘that’ll teach you for underestimating me. Need to lure them in’ you said as you mimed reeling in a fish.

Pulling up a satellite image of the surrounding area you zoned in on the old mill. ‘We know this is where they’re hiding. For all Keegan knows, I’m upholding my end of the bargain and keeping a truce. But …’ you chewed on your lip. ‘I want them. I want Elias. He’s the final piece of the puzzle that’s stopping us from taking control. Wait for Keegan to come here, take them then.’

Claude rose from the chair, ‘I’ll get my team on it. We’ll get em.’

———

Keegan entered your office once more, standing to attention in front of your desk. Floorboards creaking under his weight. Biting your thumb you smiled up at the Sargent before you. ‘You get more handsome every time I see you’ you cooed softly. He huffed as he strained against the bonds which encased his wrists, ‘this really necessary?’

Closing the gap between you, you placed both your hands on his chest, breathing in his scent. ‘For what I have in store? Absolutely.’ Pressing your lips ever so gently on his you sucked his bottom lip between your teeth. Nipping it gently. Narrowing his eyes at you a groan rumbled within his chest.

‘Nox’ he warned ‘we can’t.’

‘Why? Because Merrick said so?’ You pouted ‘the big bad wolf said no?’ Standing on your toes you pressed your mouth against his ear ‘I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf Keegan. He should be afraid of me.’

You slid your hand down his waist into the valley of this thighs, raising a brow at his already hard cock. ‘Mmm perfect’ you cooed. He flinched at your touch, not away from you, into you. Inadvertently he rolled his hips further into your grasp.

The air shifted, just like it always did. It became thick, tense, almost putrid. You were Ying and Yang, cat and mouse. You were the devil reincarnate, and you’d invited him to your table.

Gripping his onyx hair between your fingers you jarred his neck backwards, revealing his neck. The skin pulsated from the swollen artery beneath, but he was still calm. Never wavering at your touch. Switching positions behind him you kicked the back of his knees, causing him to fall. He hissed between his teeth, pain or pleasure you weren’t sure.

His hair still entwined in your fingers you lazily dragged your tongue along the crook of his neck. His skin slightly salty from his sweat, you savoured the taste. ‘Look at you. On your knees for me’ you mocked, placing a possessive kiss on his jaw. His stubble nicked the delicate skin on your lips. The only delicate attribute you had.

You sighed a moan into his skin, one of contentment, you could have stayed like this with him forever. He shifted slightly beneath you, pulling back you stared into his ashen blue eyes. Bumping your nose against his you forced your lips onto him, driving your tongue into his mouth. You didn’t relent as you gripped him closer to your chest, hands wandering, pulling, dragging, twisting around his body.

Dropping to your knees you straddled his lap as he knelt beneath you. Still buried within his kiss, you rolled against his cock eliciting a deep groan from him. ‘You wanna touch me Keegan? Wanna feel how wet my pussy is for you?’ Your voice was sultry and hoarse, a whisper within a sea of white noise. Screwing his eyes shut he choked out a breath, a muffled sob as you kissed him again. ‘Fuck, I need your cock Russ, I need you so bad’ you murmured, your breath tickling his neck.

He peered up at you through hooded lids, panting softly trying to maintain composure. Gripping his neck between your fingers you pursed your lips, ‘you want that Keegan? You want me fuck you? Make you cum in my pussy?’ His eyes widened, as his jaw went slack trying to process your words. Ghosting your lips along his jaw you nipped his skin between your teeth, ‘you want that?’ He swallowed hard, his mouth audibly dry ‘yes.’

Shooting him a smile that would make the devil proud you yanked his trousers open. You slipped your hand into his clothes, pulling his cock free. Biting your lip you looked down on your prize, feeling yourself involuntarily clench against the seam of your trousers. A smirk rigged at your lips, seeing him so weak and broken beneath you. ‘Beg for me Russ.’

You wouldn’t stop until he was a quivering mess, a pleading, whimpering mess.

Sliding off him you left his cock standing to attention in the cold office air. Grabbing his cheeks between your fingers you gave him a peck ‘good boy.’ Spitting on his cock you watched as your saliva dribbled down his shaft, the sensation made him shudder as a soft whimper passed his lips.

Leaning back you snaked your fingers into your own trousers and towards your weeping cunt. Resting your forehead against his you played with yourself. Slipping two fingers into your hole as you panted against his lips ‘fuck I’m so wet, s’all for you Keegan, s’all for you.’ The sound of your fingers abusing your hole filled the room, his cock twitched violently against his abdomen as you came undone in front of him.

His mind was empty, unable to find words to speak, just hoarse whimpers that forced themselves past his vocal chords. Watching as you fucked your fingers right in front of him, your skin glowing in the dim light of the room. You were ethereal.

As you neared your high you pulled out, gently skimming your fingers over his lips and onto his tongue. The taste of your arousal flooded his senses, sweet yet a tang that was undeniably yours. He craved it. With your fingers placed firmly onto his tongue you kissed him, your tongues gliding over your fingers.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take of this, his cock painfully hard. Throbbing from needing to cum so badly. Your juices danced along his tastebuds as he fought against your tongue. He tried to rise from his knees but you pushed him back down, climbing onto him once more.

Pulling away from the kiss a ribbon of saliva connected the two of you snapped. Using the fingers that were just in his mouth your gripped his jaw, keeping it open. Narrowing your eyes you spat into his mouth, eliciting another groan from him. ‘Swallow baby’ you cooed tightening your grip. He did as he was asked, taking in shallow languid breaths.

‘So good for me Keegan, such a good boy.’

Readjusting your trousers you raised above his taught cock, even the gentle touch of your finger tips to guide it had him arching his back as he moaned. You slipped the head of his cock into your cunt, just the head. He choked out a breath as you removed it again. You repeated this motion over and over and over. Throwing his head back he finally relented ‘please … please … please’ he begged.

Kissing his neck your bit down on the sensitive skin, ‘well because you asked so nicely.’

Sinking down fully onto his thick cock you both gasped, jaws falling open at the sudden change in sensation. You started off slowly, rolling your hips back and forth. He let his head fall forward onto your shoulder as he whined into you. The strangled and muffled moans that came from the depths of his throat just spurred you on.‘Fuckfuckfuckfuck’ he stammered ‘feels so good.’

Cupping his head you picked up your pace, ‘doin so well for me’ you praised against his lips. He looked up at you completely drunk off your cunt, his rolling to the back of his head with pure ecstasy. You allowed your own moans of pleasure seep into his skin as you lifted your hips, crashing back down onto his cock. ‘Oh god … don’t stop … fuck’ he mewled.

Using your fingers you rubbed your clit whilst keeping a punishing pace. You’d already edged yourself so it didn’t take long before your orgasm rebuilt. Pushing your face into the crook of his neck you fell into the abyss, your muscles clenching around him. A surge of adrenaline flooded your system as you rode out your orgasm. As the haze lifted you once again gripped Keegans throat, applying more pressure to the sides of his neck this time. Tampering with his blood flow. He spluttered and writhed as he came, choking out a sob, his eyes now glassy and vision blurred. Arching his back his mouth fell open as he gasped for air, moaning and whimpering. Completely at your mercy.

‘Who do you belong to Keegan?’

‘You, Nox. You.’

Smiling with satisfaction you placed a kiss on his red swollen lips, before sliding him out of you. Hissing through your teeth at the sudden empty feeling. Looking down at Keegan you smirked, nothing more beautiful than a man completely at your mercy, begging.

Once you were re-dressed you tucked his drained and abused cock into his trousers once more. You’d chosen for him to kneel as it was a stress position, rendering his legs useless. Which is what you needed for the surprise you had in store for him. He knelt next to your chair, like a dog. You stroked his hair and whispered praises to him, working your hand down to trace the back of his neck with your nails. He was broken, shattered into a million pieces like a shattered mirror. Unable to be repaired fully.

Crossing your legs you let out a sigh, ‘Claude!’

The door swung open and in they marched, gagged and cuffed.

Merrick, Hesh and Logan.

They’d heard everything.

—————

Taglist - @sashadiurnal @ave661 @bubble-dream-inc @polishcodfan @shyerue @pasta-m1lk

#call of duty keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ #keegan russ smut #keegan p russ smut #keegan cod #keegan russ x you #keegan x reader #cod ghosts

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reasonablerodents · 4 months

Note

(established relationship) Hotch wakes up to Spencer blowing him under the duvet....

Hello Star, my lovely co-writer of the Grease AU and long-suffering friend who watches me write Rodent Horrors with a pained expression!

Here is some NICE sucky sucky <3 With a small side plate of sort of little shit Spencer because of course he is. Also a brief mention of moon sex. Idk what that dream says about Hotch… someone psychoanalyse this man in the comments pls xxxx

Sunday Morning (E)

Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid, Established Relationships, Morning Sex

* * * * * * * * * *

The dream finds himself slowly waking from was a pleasurable one, where he’d gently been fucking his boyfriend. It had been on the moon, but neither of them really seemed to mind. Aaron’s just about to roll over and see if he can convince Spencer to make that dream real- well, without the moon part- when he realises that he can still feel something on his cock.

Not just something. A mouth.

One quick glance to the side confirms it all. Spencer’s not in his usual position; his pillow is dented slightly and the covers on his side of the bed have been pushed back.

He feels the mouth on his cock swallow him down deeper, making him gasp. Slowly, Aaron moves the duvet aside, revealing a wild-haired Spencer with a look in his eyes that suggests a self-satisfied smirk.

“Good morning,” Aaron murmurs.

Spencer hums, moving his head up and deliberately swirling his tongue around Aaron’s tip in the way he knows drives him crazy.

This, Aaron decides, must be the sort of life that Roman Emperors used to lead. Waking up gently to a beautifully practiced mouth on them in a comfortable bed, instead of having to get up at 5am to solve some horrific case across the country. He wouldn’t mind getting used to this.

Spencer doesn’t seem as though he’d mind either, as he picks up his pace enthusiastically, watching the way Aaron’s chest shakes and tenses as he groans. He always enjoys giving head, loves how he can make Aaron fall apart so quickly, and this morning is clearly no different.

When Spencer starts to pick up his pace, hollowing his cheeks as he continues, Aaron twists one hand into the sheets with a low moan. Perhaps it’s the element of surprise, but he seems to be far closer than he usually would. Spencer, of course, knows every one of his movements intimately, has them all catalogued in his mind. He’s clearly proud of himself as he looks up at his partner, slowly blinking in a near-perfect mime of innocence as he takes in the way he’s managing to ruin his partner.

“God- you’re too good at this-'' Aaron gasps. There’s some vague notion of stubbornness makes him want to try and hold on a little longer, but then Spencer somehow manages to intensify it with every movement, and that fleeting idea becomes impossible. He doesn’t need to warn Spencer that he’s about to cum; Aaron knows that it can be read in every flicker of his face.

Besides, it’s not like Spencer ever pulled off. Today, of course, is no exception.

Once Aaron’s finished, throwing his head back on the pillow with a sigh, Spencer sits back up, wiping his mouth with a smile.

“Good morning to you too. That’s got to be better than an alarm clock, hasn’t it?”

#hotchreid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #write for me rat boy #my fic

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jotaromane · 6 months

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bouncer! thorkell x fem! reader

this os does not take place in the original universe, but nowadays, precisely in a nightclub, i got this idea when i went to one for halloween lmao, i hope you’ll like this os anyway this os is a little longer than the others because i just had too much fun writing the clubbing part

tw : unprotected sex ; rough sex ; dirty talk ; one night stand ; in a car

You just couldn't miss that night at your favorite nightclub. Indeed, the owners teased a night “2000s music only” on social media. You and your friend were so impatient to go. You did a before at your place, so you didn’t spend all your salaries by buying drinks.

-I think you’ve drunk enough for now, you said by grabbing his glass from your friend’s hand.

-I… i’M nOt DrUnk ! he stuttered.

-Thorfinn, let’s go, you cut short. I don’t want to miss a single song. Imagine what would happen if we miss Poker Face…

-You would never forgive me, he smiled.

Thorfinn was your best friend. You met him at college, where the two of you were too shy to start meeting new people. You were forced to do a presentation together, and you instantly became friends. You discovered student life with him : bars, nightclubs, going on trips… It was reassuring to have him in your life.

You approached the entry, and lucky for you, you didn’t have to stand in line. -How’s my makeup ? you asked him. And my outfit ? -You look gorgeous, as always ; don’t worry. What about me ? You took his face in your hands so you checked if the glitter on his eyes had moved. -Perfect, you said. I can’t believe you accepted to wear makeup !

You were now at the entry, facing two bouncers. They were very tall, and even if you came at this club often, you've never saw them. One of them was a true giant, blonde haired. His percent eyes met you and Thorfinn. - Good evening, you said. Can we go inside ? -We’re dressed for the occasion, Thorfinn intervened.

-Mh, said the second bouncer with no emotion in his voice. You can go. Have fun.

The club was full, you couldn’t walk without bumping into someone. But the music was just as you expected, and you had a lot of fun with your friend. Due to your proximity, people would obviously thinked that you two were together, so nobody tried to importunate you. -Stop calling, STOP CALLING ! you sang.

-I don't wanna think anymore…Thorfinn responded while miming a phone with his hand.

-I GOT MY HEAD AND MY HEART ON THE DANCEFLOOR ! you both screamed more than sang.

A few hours passed and while clubbing, you ordered so many more drinks, and Thorfinn started to feel sick because of the alcohol. You took him to the toilets, and he threw up while you were holding his long hair into a messy ponytail. -Gosh, you said. That’s disgusting. What did you eat recently ? Shrimps ?

-Sorry… he mumbled. Maybe I drank too much…

-The hangover will punish you, don’t worry.

You helped Thorfinn clean his face and you went back to the dancefloor, but the mood was gone. It was nearly 5am and most of the people were gone or too tired to dance.

-I’m gonna call an Uber, you said as you left the club.

The fact that there was no music anymore helped you think and manipulate your phone, even if the alcohol made your gestures unprecise. -He’s on his way, you averted Thorfinn.

-Okay, thank you, (y/n). It’s always a pleasure to hang out with you. You’re really my best friend. I wonder how my college years would have been without you…

-Okay, okay, you said softly by patting his back. You’re my best friend too.

You didn’t notice, but when he heard the words “best friend”, the blonde bouncer locked his attention on you. In fact, he had targeted you from the moment he saw you arriving at the club, but he thought you were with your boyfriend. But he decided to play it cool and pretend he heard nothing. -Hey, lovebirds, he said to you. Do you guys need help ?

-You… You’re talking to me ?

The alcohol in your blood made your heart pulse when your eyes met his. He truly was huge. -You’re very tall, you said like a curious child.

He smiled, discovering some large teeth. -And you’re very drunk, as I can see.

You looked away and saw Thorfinn join you. -Yeah, you admitted. Maybe we took too many shots inside…

-How do you and your boyfriend come home ? he asked, knowing the answer.

-He’s not my boyfriend ! you tried to articulate.

-For sure, Thorfinn added, nearly proudly. I can’t imagine having to live with her 24/7 !

You pretended to slap him. -You are the unbearable one ! Remember our philosophy : no engagement before our 25 ! After that, if we’re not engaged, we will get married, not before !

-Of course, the bouncer said. Due to your age, you must make the most of life while you’re young.

-Exactly !! you shouted, touching his shoulder. You’re totally right…uh…What’s your name again ?

The bouncer raised an eyebrow as he felt your contact on him. Your hand was just so tiny on him. You couldn’t even cover one of his pectorals with your palm. -My name’s Thorkell.

-Thorkell…you repeated. What an original name.

The Uber driver arrived at this moment and was stationed in front of the club. You opened the door and Thorfinn literally threw himself in. -After you…you said ironically.

-Sorry, (y/n). My feet just hurt so much. All this dancing stuff…

When you started to sit in the car, Thorkell took your arm and forced you to watch him. -I told you my name but I don’t know yours, he noted. Would you like to tell me around one last drink ?

He smirked and you blushed. You never met someone this tall and intimidating. In fact, he was kind of hot. Maybe a little older than you, but who cared ? You looked at Thorfinn, silently asking for his opinion. -(y/n) ! he sighed. Every FUCKING week ! Go, if you want to. But text me regularly. And you…

He stepped out of the car and stood up in front of Thorkell. -If you dare to hurt my friend or make her do things she doesn’t want to…

Thorkell threw him a look that meant “Don’t worry” and “Fuck off” at the same time, you couldn’t interpret it because of the alcohol. But you knew that Thorfinn wasn’t laughing at all. You kissed him on the cheek, and without taking his eyes off Thorkell, he kissed you on the forehead. -Have a good time, sweetie. If you have any problems, you call me. I’m serious.

-Sure. I’ll text you.

The Uber got started and you turned back to Thorkell. He was patiently waiting for you, car keys in his hand. -Don’t worry, he said. We don’t drink when we’re working. I can drive.

-Drive to…?

-Oh, I thought you would have understood that I’ve planned to take you to my apartment.

You were not against the idea, even if you knew nothing about him. One life, you thought. -I don’t know, you smiled. Are you going to kill me in your basement ?

-I promise I won’t.

Thorkell’s car was actually as big as his owner. It was an impressive black Range Rover. -Wow, you whispered.

-That’s my baby, he said proudly. I worked hard to afford it. So be careful with your heels when you get into it.

-Sure.

You sat on the passenger seat, and Thorkell was next to you. He was so close, you could observe him in detail while he drove out of the parking lot. He had some large hands, his nails were cut short and perfectly clean. He wore a black turtleneck pullover that suits his square jaws. His beard was neither too long nor too short. -Are you staring at me ? he asked.

-Uh, no, no… you mumbled.

-Because I did, tonight. I noticed you as soon as you arrived at the club. You and this boy seemed to be very close.

-Thorfinn is my friend, nothing more. We’re clear about that.

-Fine, he concluded.

He drove safely, so you authorized yourself to text Thorfinn instead of watching the road. “In my prey’s car. Everything’s fine. You ?”. As usual, Torfinn responded nearly instantly “Fine. Be careful, this man is truly a giant, he could easily hurt you.” By reading the message, you couldn’t help but think that if Thorkell hurted you - just a little - with these giant hands, you wouldn’t mind. At this thought, your legs started to squeeze. You knew why you were here, and so did he.

Thorkell made the move for you, and placed his hand on your thigh. You said nothing. He ascended slowly to approach the spot, and your breath became short. You could feel your body preparing itself. All of your body got goosebumps. -Your skin is so soft, he said with his eyes focused on the road. You know what, fuck off.

You were concentrating on the contact of your skins, so at first you didn’t realize he had stopped the car in another parking lot. It was deserted. -I know this place, he assured you. Nobody would disturb us. The windows are tinted.

-Then what are you waiting for ? you teased him.

Thorkell looked at you and you could tell he had hunger in his eyes. You thought back at the size of his teeth. God.

He slipped up your dress so he could take off your pantties. He threw the underwear away and immediately his giant hand covered all of your cunt to caress you. -Can we kiss ? you asked. I like kissing people.

-As you wish.

His lips were surprisingly soft. You pushed your tongue into his mouth as he inserted two of his colossal fingers into you, making you gasp while kissing. -Uhm… Like that, huh ? he growled against your lips.

You nodded and took his face into your hands to intensify the kiss even more. He slowly caressed your g-spot, knowing exactly where it was. You whimpered and started sweating a little.

-You hot, sweetie ? Let me undress you.

Savagly, he pulled the thin straps of your dress to reveal your breasts. His eyes opened wide. -How beautiful…he whispered. Can I ? he asked with a desperate look.

-Please.

Just as you expected, Thorkell wasn’t a gentle man when he had sex, especially in the back of his car. He ran to your nipples, by taking one in his mouth and squeezed the other between his thumb and his index finger. You arched your back to meet his contact more intensely. His other hand was still working on your intimacy. It was so good. You passed your hands through his hair and pulled them gently. -Don’t be shy, he said against your skin. Pull my hair.

After a little time, Thorkell raised his head to you, and his golden gaze made you melt on the leather seat. -And now, do you want me to eat you, little brat ?

His eyebrows raised as he was waiting for your permission. -I… I don’t know ‘cause we danced a lot so I think I sweated and maybe the smell is…

-Let me tell you, lady, that I absolutely don’t give a damn. You want me to make you cum on my mouth or not ?

You shivered as his words, and nodded by biting your lower lip. -That’s what I thought, he teased. Put your back against the door so I can properly spread these gorgeous legs.

His assault on you made you moan loudly. His large tongue circled your clit with appetite, and you tried your best not to scream, as his fingers still worked in you. You could hear him trying to keep his breath calm, but for sure he was so excited to. Your moans turned him on a lot. -Don’t be so loud, he ordered. Take this instead, you brat.

And without any warning, he inserted his other index finger in your mouth. Immediately you sucked on it, circling it. Your eyes closed and your eyebrows frowned, you could feel your orgasm coming. -Thorkell, you said. I’m…

-I know, sweetie, he cut you short. I can feel it by your pussy beating on my mouth. Delicious.

Your orgasm striked you and you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs around his head, but he actually seemed to love that.

You thought you were going to rest a little after that, but you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling. -I assume that everything in you is huge, Thorkell, you teased.

-You don’t have an idea, he smirked. Do you want to taste it before I fuck you like the pretty slut that you are ?

He took off his clothes and you could barely believe it. You’ve never seen someone this big. All of his body was disproportionate : his shoulders, arms, even his legs were enormous. He wasn’t a normal human. And you could tell by the size of his erection, waiting for you. -Take it, if you dare.

You posed your lips on his tip, took a deep breath, and started to swallow his cock, but you couldn’t take it all. Tears shone into your eyes as you sucked him the best you could. Thorkell sighed loudly. -That’s it, you little bitch, so desperate for my cock, huh ?

You nodded, still sucking him, your saliva poured out of your mouth. He started moving his hips to make you take all of it, but you gagged loudly. -Gonna ruin your pretty makeup, he promised while grabbing your neck. My turn to pull your hair, princess.

He caught them so he could see your concentrated face working on him. His precum filled your mouth deliciously. You moaned on him, eyes closed to appreciate his taste and size. -Slow down, or I’m gonna come in your mouth, I don’t want to. Nah, you know what, I have a better idea…

He took your face in his hands so you couldn’t escape his animal gaze. He smiled largely, discovering his teeth. -Want my cock inside of you, you slut ?

-Ye…Yes, you gasped.

-Ask properly for it, he demanded.

Your desire made you tremble, you felt your body so ready to take his length. -Please, you said. Please, fuck me.

-I like seeing those pretty eyes begging. Wanna see them while I fuck you. Ride me.

You placed yourself on the top of him, and he took your breasts into his hands. He teased your nipples with his thumb making tiny circles on them. -So hard for me, he murmured for himself. Are you ready ?

-Please, you said desperately.

He pushed himself into you inches by inches, taking a long sigh from you. You’ve never been filled so full by a man. Thorkell’s size left no space. -Be gentle, please, you asked. At first.

-Don’t worry, darling, I’ll give you the time to get used to me.

His movements were slow but deep, and you whimpered without any restraint, holding yourself to his shoulders. Your breasts were bouncing in rhythm. Thorkell thought that he had the most beautiful view in the world. - Now, go faster, you begged.

-What a needy slut, he smirked. As you wish.

With one hand, he caught your hair and reversed your head back. With the other, he strangled you so your breath was shorter. His thrusts now pounded you with no mercy. -Move on it, he demanded. I know you can.

He took your head back near his, and whispered in your ear.

-You think I didn’t see you move on that dancefloor, you little brat ? I know what that ass can do. You were having fun, didn’t you ?

-Yes, I did. But my legs kind of hurt now, I…

He didn’t wait for your response and grabbed your ass so he could do the job himself. Due to his strength, you couldn’t help but start sobbing with pleasure. He noticed that and licked your tears away. -I’m not done with you, you slut, so don’t you dare collapse on my cock or anything. I’m going to finish you properly.

You started feeling weak, taking his cock was so exhausting, but it was also delicious. You managed to hold your explosion a little more. A strange fog covered your eyes. Thorkell saw it and slapped you. -What did I said ?

You didn’t answer. Instead, you looked him in the eyes, and they opened wide, as he slowed down. -What, princess ? he worried. Did I hurt you ? Do you want me to stop ?

-No, you sighed. Don’t stop, please… But slow down, please… I can’t take it anymore, I’m gonna come on your beautiful leather seats. Remember, this car is your baby.

-You mean you’re gonna squirt ?

-I… I think so…

Thorkell’s eyes shone like you just told him he won at the lottery. -Oh Lord, he mumbled. Would you let me take you to this state ?

You gathered your last strengths and continued to ride him, as a response. He smiled, and rubbed your clit with his thumb. Only a few seconds later, it was too much for you, and you started to squirt over him, but he didn’t seem to care. -Come on baby, you’re just too sexy moaning for me !

Your legs were shaking in an out of control way. Thorkell immediately slipped out his cock of your body and his seed squirted on your belly. He let go a long growl, as he caressed your face. You kissed him passionately. It was so good. -Damn, he said, trying to catch his breath. That was an experience.

-I agree, you murmured in his ear. Thank you for worrying about me.

-Anything for a lady.

Thorkell drove fast. You searched your phone at the same time. -Do you want to rest at mine ? he asked. It’s 6am, your friend is probably asleep.

-Hum, you responded. Why not. I’ll still text him so he doesn't worry when he wakes up.

You texted Thorfinn “Prey’s under control. Gonna sleep at his apartment and then he will drive me home.” You focused on Thorkell again. -Did you like it ? you asked.

-I loved it, baby, he smiled while placing his hand on your thigh. Usually, I don’t see my conquests again, but what if we…

-Broke the rule ? you completed. I think I’m okay with this, I you’re able to fuck me like that everytime.

Thorkell squeezed his hand around you, making you gasp. -You don’t know a thing about what else I could do to please you, darling.

this was a looong os but i hope you liked it anyway!! btw requests are open! <3

#thorkell x reader #thorkell x reader smut #vinland saga x reader #thorfinn #thorfinn x reader #thorkell #fanfiction #smut #+18 #dirty talk #vinland saga #manga #anime #knute #askeladd #requests open

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i-like-media · 9 months

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If I had the pleasure to write a Dan VS. Episode, I think I'd write Dan VS Elise, but not for the ways you think!

The episode would start off peacefully, blue sky, birds chirping... only to be interrupted by Chris's car FLYING through the air at a high speed as it comes up from behind a hill! It drops back onto the road, and we get a view of what's happening inside the car.

Chris is dressed as a mime. "W-WHICH WAY?" He asks frantically, to which Dan (who is fighting a monkey in the backseat) replies "TAKE THE NEXT LEFT! ............ ALSO MIMES DON'T TALK.". A tranquilizer dart flies through the car window, scaring Chris and making him swerve. They're being chased by a zoo staff! Chris takes that screeching left, which rolls the two in the back over, with the monkey landing on top of Dan. It ooh ooh aah aah's victoriously, only to be hit by a tranquilizer dart. It collapses and Dan takes the opportunity to get on top with a cocky "HA!" ..... only to get darted himself too. "WHICH WAY NOW? .... DAN?" Chris is swerving about like crazy, but with no reply from Dan, he feels the need to look back and check what's going on. Before he can even properly respond, he crashes into another car. The car spins around a couple of times, before coming to a stop. In a matter of seconds, the car is surrounded by cops and zoo staff... and the Scene ends with Chris letting out a measly "oh boy..."

The next scene takes place some time later. Chris had been bailed out by Elise, but Dan hadn't. Which is why we find Dan immediately going to Chris's house when he DOES get out. "Stupid Chris, stupid Elise... (Mumble mumble)... next time they need me I oughtta (grumble grumble)..." We get a shot of the house, without the car in sight. The curtains are also closed. As Dan approaches the building, he hears arguing. He pauses and WANTS to put his ear to the wall, but then the front door flies open right in his face, knocking him to the side. Elise stomps out holding a large bag. "Elise, please... Let's just talk about this" Chris pleads as he follows her out the door. "This isn't the end, Chris. I just need... a break. And I need you to start thinking about who you'd rather choose.... Me, or Dan." Chris is at a loss of words, unable to form words. So with a sigh Elise turns around and walks off.

"Well OBVIOUSLY you'd choose me, right?" Dan pipes up, covered in leaves. Chris doesn't react, he keeps on watching Elise.

"...I'll take that as a yes. Besides, we've got work to do! That monkey is still on the loose and that VET is STILL walking around without the iron fist of JUSTICE tainting his tastebuds!" Chris drops to his knees and starts tearing up, dropping his head into his hands.

"Ohhh cheer up, buddy. We both knew it wasn't going to work out <:)" Chris starts sobbing harder. "Ew.... well, he'll be over it soon enough 🤷‍♂️" but little did Dan know he would never get over it. Even worse, Chris becomes the most incompetent "sidekick" to his schemes ever, eating tub after tub after TUB of ice cream and breaking down crying at everything that reminds him of Elise. Which is when Dan gets so frustrated, he swears revenge on Elise (for rendering Chris completely useless in his schemes).

The rest of the episode would be filled with the wacky hijinks of Dan spying on Elise and trying to get back on her, while Chris tags along as a useless, crying mess.

These hijinks would eventually lead to Dan discovering Elise's lab, where he finds all KINDS of weapons. Though, his interests lie in a piece of technology he overheard Elise talking about to someone. A brand new prototype of a device that's supposedly wipe out a person and their entire existence with a single blast. No one remembering them either... Which sounds PERFECT to Dan. With Elise wiped from the planet, he could have Chris all for himself again! So he sets up an elaborate trap to get Elise somewhere in a specific spot so he can blast her... but Chris finds out about his plan, gets Elise out of harms way at the last second and breaks the weapon, showing to Elise that he's choosing HER. He wants to spend the rest of his life with HER because he loves His WIFE. And Elise sees this, and accepts it as an apology. They make up...

And as Dan watches this unfold in frustration, he sighs and eases up. He even manages to crack a short lived smile. It's a bittersweet one, because Deep Down he wants Chris to genuinely be happy. He doesn't like saying it, but seeing Chris so SAD for so long, wasn't great! He thought it was annoying for the most part SURE, but he's also still his best friend. But on the other hand it's bittersweet, because in the process of bringing Chris closer to him again, he only drifted further away. He's officially not getting "his friend back" in the same sense they might've been when Chris hadn't met Elise yet... and that's something that has scared Dan ever since Elise started to become a serious presence.

So in this short moment, he contemplates some of this nuance........ but that thought process is cut short rather quickly when the monkey from before LEAPS out from the shadows and tackles Dan, scratching and clawing and continuing the fight.

Chris goes: "...Huh. I knew I forgot about something.... Oh well." And that's how the episode would end, with the camera zooming out on the whole chaotic scene, Elise embracing Chris and Dan getting mauled by a monkey.

#a bit random ex dee but i thought itd be fitting with how random the show can be #dan vs #dan vs ... fic?#i guess so #dan vs fic #dan vs revival #what do you call a theoretical episode #i never make posts like this lol #dan mandel #chris pearson #elise pearson #dan vs.#theoretical episode #ideas #talkies #fan concept #fan content #fan continuity #long post

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aconflagrationofmyown · 1 year

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A Whole Man is Hard to Find - chapter 13

an Elvis Presley fanfic AU

Warnings: the typical universe warnings apply for this chapter, special emphasis on dated views both held and aspersions cast, by various characters

Summary: picking up from where we left off, this particular one is a bro chapter, -as I like to call the ones sans Rosey- though perhaps the underlying homoeroticism and money talk dampens the broship a bit ;)

Love note from a nutty author: thank y’all so much for all the feedback, love, screaming and prompts, it means the world to me that we’ve gotten as far as we have with this story and I cannot wait to continue on, sharing it with y’all has been such a bright spot of my year. Here’s to hoping this chapter isn’t too boring or grammatically offensive. Apologies to Steve Binder for me always making him a twink, it’s a cross some have to bear

“Captain Presley!” Calhoun’s panted greeting and the boy’s flailing limbs collided with Elvis the minute he stepped on deck, “I was trying t’stay awake last night t’tell ya but I fell asleep and then Mr Schilling wouldn’t tell m’where ya where when I done woke up this’mornin an’ I was tryin to find Miss Beaumont, -and he weren’t no help with that either, and just had to find ya…“

“Breathe my boy, try takin a breath, that it!” Elvis huffed good naturedly, patting his scrawny back as the kid gripped his fine clothes and babbled a mile a minute, “You found me now, and I’ll listen but ya gotta hold it for a lil longer, got a real powerful man comin aboard any second now.”

Cal bit his lip in frustration with the one front tooth left him, “But I gotta tell ya what I saw-“

“-And I wanna hear it, more than anythin’, but in a minute.” Elvis insisted with firm gentleness, spinning the boy around and tucking him under his arm as he walked them both towards the head of the gang plank. “Jerrah!“ he greeted his friend who looked like he was about to be sick by the sight of the approaching dandified official, “Who ya watchin? Oh why, if it ain’t the cute lil fucker with the crush on me.” he mimed surprise at the sight of the approaching visitor just for the satisfaction of seeing Jerry Schilling turn a shade greener, “Mr Bundle, wasn’t it?”

“Binder -as you know damn well.” Jerry seethed, “And if we aren’t all locked up for your obscenity by breakfast then it’ll be due to the intervention of a loving god.”

“Goodnessme.” Elvis clucked his tongue, “Mind yourself in front of the boy.”

“I should be telling you that.” Jerry shot back. “Only the pleasure of delivering a fate that’s real painful for both of us would give that man the energy and bravery to show his face after last night.”

“Since you’re so peckish, why don’t ya take Cal down below, allow me to handle this.”

“I don’t trust ya to handle that fancy man in any way shape or form that would be beneficial.” Jerry belligerently stuck a cigar in his mouth and his hands in his pockets, “I had to tuck him into a carriage like a helpless child he was so wobbly after you were finished with him. Reckon I’ll mind my post, thanks very much.”

“Goin down with boat, hmm, Jerrah?” Elvis snickered.

“Besides,” Jerry ignored him, “that fat fuck of yours is down below givin instructions to clear the boat out and won’t elaborate when he said he’d imprison me for obstructin federal orders when I told him I only take orders from you.”

“The hell?” Elvis muttered in bewilderment.

“So, you don’t know what he’s up to either? Damn him. How’s Miss Beaumont?” Jerry turned with Elvis to face their oncoming guests, calculating that brevity would force his friend to be honest.

Elvis could feel Calhoun’s hopeful, upturned face waiting for his reply. He tightened his hug on Cal’s shoulders and murmured a tersely comforting “Well enough, she’ll be at breakfast.” out the side of his mouth while turning to greet Mr Binder as that fellow gingerly stepped off the ramp and onto his polished deck.

Gray suit, gray waistcoat, blue tie. Elvis' little lesson had not gone unheeded. The pretty official’s eyes were near azure with the new touch of dyed silk.

“My dear Mr. Binder!” Captain Presley greeted with obnoxious familiarity, “This is an unexpected treat!”

Binder looked at the hand offered in a handshake like it might bite him before thrusting forth his pallid one and squeezing the Captain’s hand so tightly the rings bit into his fingers and bruised. It made Elvis grin wider.

“To what do we owe this visit?” Elvis queried, taking stock of the multiple federal soldiers arranged behind Binder like personal Pretorians, stiff and ready to guard the government’s dutiful clerk from a second defilement. “Ya here for business or pleasure?”

Mr. Binder’s hitherto stoic face flushed crimson as the Captain’s rankling pleasantries angered him enough he found his tongue, “Business, Captain P-Presley, b-business -of course, what else.”

“Oh I dunno, didn’t wanna presume,” Elvis raised two placating hands in surrender, causing his bracelet round his wrist to jangle against his time piece, “gotta whole lotta ‘else’ aboard.”

“I-I’m here to tell you, Captain Presley,” Binder’s tone grew firmer after managing to at last say his name without a stutter, “that the government has requisitioned your boat -for a brief period, not long, just a brief period to transport troops upriver to the territories.”

“And it just had to be my boat?” Elvis glowered, his amusement fast fading.

“Yes, yes your boat is required and, and your skill recommends you as perfect for the handling of…handling of -your skills as a captain I mean, of course! -handling of men…troops, government property.” he brought his clutched order up to his face and examined the paper frantically before quoting: “-Captaining government assets up the treacherous waterway to St Paul.”

He rallied at the end after consulting his orders, managing to find a vocabulary that did not provoke double entendres, lowering the paper and looking at the Captain with federal expectancy.

Elvis mourned Binder’s success only briefly before allowing himself to absorb the reality of a trip up north under government orders, all protest against it resulting in a even worse demand. Or prison. Jerry gave a snicker beside him at their ill luck, the self inflicted karma of Elvis’ fucking with this dainty fellow.

“I am ever at my country’s service, Mr Binder.” Captain Presley replied with grave decorum before remembering the importance of keeping so easily flummoxed an ally on his side, “-and at yours.” he added in a tone he had not heard himself use in a coons age.

His tongue felt sour from how easy it had been to slip back into it, even sober. How effective it yet remained on the man before him who’s professional reply died on his lips with that personal addition.

Mr Binder’s betraying flush lasted one single, damning moment before a genuine scowl of derision replaced the fawnish wince of before. Mr. Schilling feared this had gone too far at last, a death blow was about to be struck to his incorrigible friend’s long streak of bridge burning immunity. Jerry often wondered if Elvis perhaps wanted to burn the whole operation to the riverbed floor, so as to be done with the carnival shit. Handing that job to someone else would make him blameless. No one was better positioned than Mr Binder to damn them so expertly.

“And I came to aid you, Captain.” Mr. Binder continued with admirable indifference to his momentary slip.

“Oh?”

“Yes, I’ve a question for you.” Mr. Binder nodded, looking once at Mr. Schilling and then the boy Calhoun who was watching these proceedings with fascinated bewilderment.

“Ah now, I’ve never known a question that was helpful, Mr. Bi-“

“Don’t.” Jerry begged, slapping Elvis’ hand from its intended journey to Binder’s flinching shoulder. “Just don’t, for once in your life.”

“I’ve been sent by President Grant’s Administration to clean up the laws and commerce of the Mississippi River, Captain Presley,” Mr. Binder stated his well worn script of the evening prior, “and you best believe I intend to do so. But I’d rather not lock up its most able captains when I think the corruption I seek is ashore. Do you understand me, sir? Or do you only speak in the lustful language of the depraved? Your…purser led me to believe you were a -deeper- sort of man.”

Mr. Schilling’s cough was grating and deafening enough to make Cal jump in surprise. “There was mention of aid and a question, Mr Binder?” he redirected with effortless, homespun charm.

“Yes, I suppose there was.” Binder flicked his clear blue eyes over to the second mate, “Do you men not want to partner with me or do you actually enjoy slowly declining into outdated, useless finery?”

“Beg pardon?”

“What I’m trying to understand, Mr. Schilling is why after agreeing to the boat race one of you would put in an offer, tantamount to a request, to be used by the United States army, thus disqualifying you from such a race for nigh on half a month's time? Do you really hate the idea of making money so much you’d wreck your own ticket? Or am I right in judging that neither of you knew about this development until now?

Mr. Schilling and Captain Presley exchanged a look that was a non verbal communication of a resounding “told ya so” on Jerry’s part in regards to the basic command structure aboard.

“I am correct?” Binder prodded, a prim sort of authority having bloomed in him when left in peace from fiddling fingers and dancing blue eyes, “Right, then, the next question is, who actually owns this ship?

“It’s a boat, sir.” Elvis corrected gently.

More silence followed and Cal craned his neck near backwards to observe the Captain’s silent seething from the vantage point of under his jaw. It seemed to him that conversations between important men involved a great deal of glaring and not much talk. If Rosey had been there she would have taken note of the thumping vein in his neck, giving away how very much Elvis appreciated Colonel Parker wrecking his first, profitable, basic chance for autonomy.

“It was mentioned to me,” Mr. Binder went on, “-in the early morning as I had not bothered with sleep and the light was on and a fellow felt free to approach my desk- that Colonel Parker left the gala last night and departed straight away to the telegraph office, and thence to the railway office, before coming back to his lodgings aboard. Does any of this interest you, Captain Presley? I’ll repeat, who owns this boat? And why would they rather it act as a human cattle car than make a profit by submitting to a constitutionally elected committee?”

“That would be one Colonel Parker, of telegraph and railway office fame.” Jerry made a brave decision and smiled placidly, even as Elvis gave him a look that would strike most men dead. “Very fond of the old method, that one, you know, the dancing, singing, gambling, carnival style method that the railway is gonna make obsolete in a couple years.”

“I own this damn boat.” Captain Presley growled over Cal’s head and the boy felt his shoulder nearly crushed under his clenching hand.

“Not according to Mr. Moore, ya don’t, been goin through all those papers like ya asked….” Jerry kept smiling the smile of someone who enjoys a victory at all costs, and Elvis smiled the teeth-clenched smile of one who’d rather seethe than cry over a betrayal.

“How bout we take this somewhere, more private.” Elvis offered to Mr. Binder with admirable decorum for a man in such dire need of breakfast.

“Yes.” Mr. Binder was hesitant to leave the pure, open air of the deck and the federal guardians of his purity for an enclosed office and Captain Presley’s wiles, “Some discretion might not be amiss.” he conceded.

“Excellent, be so good as ta follow me, and you, Schilling,” Elvis pushed a firm hand against his mate’s chest, “will stay above with Cal and see to it that no more unloading happens until I can sort this little miscommunication out, hmm?”

“Yes, Boss.” Jerry donned his now quite common look of sullen mutiny but he took Cal under his arm nonetheless, watching with stubborn hope as the two men descended the stairs to the Captain’s practically unused office.

“What was it that you so badly wanted to tell the Captain about, boy?” Jerry asked Calhoun after a split second’s decision to make business that wasn’t his business his business. He had a strange presentiment that all business aboard would soon be everyone’s business with the way things were devolving so rapidly.

“Colonel Parker pointed a gun at me.” Cal shrugged with aggrieved pride at having been put off so long.

“Now that weren’t very patient of him.”Jerry remarked, “What’d you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin!” Cal remonstrated viciously.

“What’d he do, then? -No, no you ain’t taken the piano anywhere, not nothin else is goin off here till the Captain comes back up!” Jerry broke off to yell at a few movers who were beginning to haul out the dining halls' more entertaining furniture, “Go get, move your asses back, nothin comes out till he says. Now, you were sayin, Calhoun?”

“I was goin into Miss Beaumont’s office for my lesson-“

“-that’s really Rosetta’s office, boy.”

“-yes, right, well, it’s got the safe in it, and it was empty ‘cept for the Colonel and he was busy diggin’ through it and pullin things out,” Cal explained, “and they were things I’d seen the passengers give Miss Beaumont and she done locked them up and had them slip things-“

“-deposit slips.”

“-yeah, depot slips, and he was takin the jewels out and he spooked real bad when I came in.”

“Why’d he point a gun at ya?” Jerry gnawed on his cigar placidly much to Cal’s irritation.

“He told me not to say nothin bout what I’d seen. And I asked him why not.” Cal shrugged as if this were explanation enough.

“Then what?”

“I done told ya, he pulled a gun on me!”

“Jus’ like that. You didn’t say nothin smart back or nothin?”

“Well I-“

“C’mon now, what’d you say?” Jerry fancied himself a decent detective when it came to children, the trick of it he figured, was never to outgrow one’s own childish logic.

“Well I may have told him that Miss Beaumont had killed over less.” Calhoun smiled the smile of the crooked and the besotted and Jerry offered up a prayer for him that his teeth would grow back in at a rapid pace.

“Yeah, that’ll be what done it.” Jerry leaned back against the bulkhead and looked out at the slate gray sky where it met the muddy river and imagined going northward under these conditions.

“Stick next to me or ya might get tossed over to the gators, not be the first to go that way.”

“There ain’t any gators this far north!”

“You wanna test that, boy?”

“No! No sir!”

“You done told anyone else about this?” Jerry inquired in the way of those making conversation for lack of a better pastime.

“Rosetta, rights before you hauled me up here.”

“Oh, that’s excellent.” Jerry observed, “She’ll have told most the boat but now in her righteous fury, and there won’t be no way that fucker won’t hear it somehow or other.”

“What fucker?” Cal inquired placidly.

“Elvis.” Jerry replied as if the words were synonymous.

Elvis felt himself in about as foreign a space as Mr Binder, so little used was his office and entirely stocked with his father’s materials, not his own. It was sobering, that recollection of his father’s plight and he ushered Mr. Binder into the cramped space with the gravity befitting his station. He flicked open the blinds and let the now overcast sky make a dent into the gloom and settled himself behind the desk.

“How can I help you, Mr. Binder?” he asked placidly.

Mr. Binder took time to seat himself and flick out his coattails, adjust his cravat and scan the office before folding his hands in his lap and replying with tepid politeness, “I spent a rather sleepless night last night.”

Elvis' arms tensed on the chair rests and his fingers began to stipple on the desk top uncontrollably. He himself had done a great deal of thinking about how far he’d go for a pardon, for Rosey’s pardon, and he had comforted himself that his promises and vows to God might be easily upheld if he had so antagonized Binder against him as to turn away the fellow’s desire as well. Mr Binder, to Elvis inward alarm, did not seem particularly antagonized. “I spend quite a few of those myself.” he ventured. “I like to spend them reading.”

“As do I.” Mr. Bidner smiled and it was a pleasant, sparkly sort of smile Elvis suspected only made a show when the fellow didn’t intend for it to, the thought of books had brought it out, “Usually Milton or Shakespeare, the Brontës.”

“Mm.” Elvis smiled encouragingly.

“Last night,” Mr Binder continued in this way, “ I was kept enthralled by twelve years of case files on one Elvis Aaron Presley.”

Elvis knew his face had gone white, he knew the tell tale signs of that cold cheeked response, but he kept his mouth firm, his eyes glinting, his body painfully still.

Binder went on, “I’ve had my officers taking a look into things regarding this whole operation, not just yours but the whole of it up and down the river. Shocking amount of corruption, mostly from authorities ashore I found, though of course there’s the gambling and the prostitution and the murders, all charged to various accounts -and through it all, yours was a shockingly thick stack of case notes. And then it just…ends.” he had no lilt of glee or triumph in his voice, they could have been critiquing the latest Dumas’ publication, so placid was his narrative, “Just a single line of aquittal, stamped with a Judge’s seal and every heinous crime they don’t even let people talk about gets swept under the rug and you get yourself a nice little river boat and a life -of sorts. If you call this living.” and there was the old, now familiar derision Elvis was hearing more and more in the voices of the younger set.

“So what?” Elvis asked, his voice lowly ominous as he allowed himself to swivel back and forth in the desk chair, childishly unconcerned, “You gonna arrest me now, ya pant wetting pansy?”

That barb had the intended effect, Mr. Binder’s face flushed red and what bit of dominance he had secured in the room fluttered precariously in the heat blast of Elvis’ scorn. The poor man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and undid the meticulously pressed thing with careless haste, pressing it to his sweating eyes. Elvis thought the room rather chilly. He may have commented to that affect.

“We have an opportunity here, Captain Presley,” Mr Binder rallied, but took care to address himself to the floor, and the foot of Vernon’s desk, “a very brief window of opportunity where we can pass the buck to certain officials currently being investigated and culled in preparation for President Grant’s termination and the reign of the ever so scrupulous Mr. Hayes. He’ll get the nomination, don’t even argue the point sir, he’ll get it. What that gives us, is both a tiny window in which to entirely reinvent the Mississippi River into something modern and respectable -a river upon which families and merchants may traverse without impunity- and toss the crimes, such as you yourself engaged in with bribery, back to the officials themselves, instead of the poor, innocent captain’s from whom the bribes were extracted. Do you get me?”

“You wanna keep your captains while locking up a bunch of senators and congressmen and judges?” Elvis summarized patiently.

“Yes, yes I do!”

“That’s real cute, sir.”

“Oh for God’s sake man! It’s already happening!” Binder cried through a face aflame, “Three in Arkansas and two in Mississippi last month! General Grant has taken stock of his presidency and found that it’ll be recalled as a trash fire of corruption and back room deals. He’d rather his deputies' sins not have the last word so he is cleaning house, monumentally, and it’s effecting the juries. They hear about the corruption in other states, they hear of action being taken and actual resignations occurring -they’re voting with the common people caught in the middle. It’s dismantling reconstruction faster than policies and trust me, men like your idiotic partner know their time has come. Middle men are going down to hell with their crooked beautocrats and that’s the way it should be.”

“Mr Bidner, I think you’ll find that -this dirty money you so abhor, it’s what’s made these illustrious captains you wish to save.” Elvis observed him closely, “And I’ve personal stakes here, I do gamble, I do have women aboard who make their living on the passengers, I do have a record such as would prevent me from being offered any common job -but most importantly, my father is in a Memphis jail cell, and has lingered there for months, no bail.”

“I’m sorry to hear that and-“

“Mr Binder!” Elvis insisted on being heard, “You can play the reformer all you want, but if this backfires, it’s goin to be me and my dependents gettin scorched. There’s not a single city councilor or judge in Memphis who I trust worth a damn, and I’m tellin you in confidence, I’m telling you that I’m about to send a pile of gold down to them in exchange for my father, and I’ve sent piles and piles before this to keep them happy. Now is that something you can just…write off when you accuse these men?”

“Yes.” Binder smiled and Elvis wanted to smack the man, “Yes I can, Captain, if it’s just gold that we are talking, I can. Such are the last days of the Grant Administration.”

“My darlin man,” Elvis leant forward over the desk, “you’ve no idea what you’re up against.”

“I think I do.” Mr. Binder’s pretty brows were drawn in a stern line and he too leaned forward, “All I’m asking, is that you don’t fight me on it, that you let me sort this out, that you do not come to the defense of your partner when and if he is implicated, that you warn me here and now if there is more to be found than a money trail. Is that so very hard?”

“You want me to betray a man I owe everythin, to, and then ask me to trust ya?” Elvis laughed.

“I ask you acknowledge the way of the future, sir, and I ask you to see that a man who has made a living taking homes from the impoverished, providing blackmail for politicians and who saw a skilled tart in yourself and took advantage to build this fucking carnival has been long overdo in reaping what he is about to sow.” Mr. Binder’s voice had steadily rose throughout this tirade and Elvis was surprised to find instead of shrill it became rather impressive, “And trust me, I’ve got my damn sickle out, and I’m going to harvest this operation you’ve got going here, and you can either have your pretty neck snapped for past crimes and your Purser’s neck, too, or you can aid me in this. Those are you options, sir. I don’t like threats, Captain Presley,” he sniffled briefly as he smoothed himself back into decorous moderation, “they don’t inspire loyalty. But I’ve brought a gift of sorts, a goodwill token, if you will. To show you I mean business, and that my business is not to your detriment.”

Elvis slowly extended his hand over the desktop to grasp the offered documents. In the pale, overcast light of the office window he could read that one was a telegraphed but nonetheless officially stamped and signed pardon for one Miss Savannah Beaumont of Belle Meade plantation.

He looked up at Binder, incredulous that the man had accomplished this in less than twelve hours. Testing the pansy as to whether he had any grit in him had paid off. Here was his girl’s pardon and the offer of immunity,

which, as this miracle shimmering with barely dried ink, seemed more substantive than a few moments before.

“And the other, Captain.” Mr Binder prodded.

Elvis flicked the page over and found a rather rumpled and aged one, a case report, stamped by the warden of the prison of Golddust Tennessee, stating the particulars of his arrest for crimes of lust and perversion. He’d never actually read the damn thing, had only heard the court harrang with its usual, elevated language. The document in hand read like a rather sordid novella in which his name appeared with nauseating frequency. He made it halfway down the report when he decided that was quite enough for the outdoor at hand and flicked up a inquiring eye to Mr. Binder.

“Is this one a threat or a gift?” he snarked, swallowing down the sick he felt over revisiting the trip home and the thought that here sat a man in regards to whom Jerry’s cautions would have been best heeded.

“A gift.” Binder assured, as if the damning paper was a pineapple or yo-yo, “What I am keeping behind is your pardon, less salacious for certain but a shockingly terse document with no explanation or hint of a jury. I’m sending men down to Memphis, as we speak, Captain, to go through the papers of your Partner, and for your sake I’m hoping that they find evidence to damn those judges besides that pardon. But trust me, if they don’t, it’ll do. I’ll use it. Unless, of course, you can provide me some aid.”

“I’ve said before,” Elvis made sure to smirk in that sad but winsome way that most found anything but aggravating, “I’ve assured you, Mr Bidner, I am ever at your service.”

“Right then. I’ve three things to ask.”

“Ask them.”

“Firstly, promise on whatever you hold dear that when you return from this…troop maneuver,” Mr Binder made a face at having to mention the odious interruption, “that you will sign on with the Waterways Commitre -don’t worry about your partner objecting, I intended for him to be securely out of influence by the time you make it back down to Memphis.”

“Alright.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“Well…swear on something!”

Elvis hesitated, thumbing at the pardon and weighing the chances of all this backfiring terribly. It seemed a better cause to die in, at least. He’d been missing something of that nature for awhile now. “I swear on my mama's grave.”

Mr. Binder took a great, steadying breath that served to make his victory rather unimpressive. Elvis clutched the miraculous pardon to assure himself that the wee fucker before him actually had some serious governmental authority. “Excellent, oh that’s very good, yes, yes alright.” Binder mopped at his eyes again and went on, “The second requirement is quite simple, it’s that you are to make no intimation to Colonel Parker of any such investigation having commenced.”

“Naturally.” Elvis agreed dryly, propping his boot on the desk and getting comfortable, grinning at the thought that Rosey would have really enjoyed being privy to this conversation.

“Parker has already stated he does not intend to make the trip north-“

“-Now hold up -how the hell did he know about this trip before me?”

“He arranged it, Captain, quite plain to see.” Binder sniffed, “I’ve the telegraph logs back home to prove it, if you wish -“

“Sweet Jesus he…” Elvis trailed off, loathe to appear any weaker before Binder by giving away just how little he knew about what went on under his very nose. They were both thinking it, he could tell by the contemplative pity in Binder’s bright blue eyes and the next requirement confirmed it:

“Mr. Moore agrees there been a great deal of uh -embezzling might be the best word for it- going on aboard, every payment you’ve made for the ship-

“-it’s a boat-“

“-has been allocated elsewhere, and is in such a tangle as to confuse anyone looking at it facevalue. You’re about to be out a great deal of money, what with unloading the prostitutes and entertainers-“

“-what now?” Elvis balked.

“The army won’t allow your gambling men, your whores or your band to remain on a government vessel -which the Proud Marie now is until you are released from this commission.”

Elvis bit his nails and wagged his boot atop the desk, grinning venomously at the barer of this new bout of fuckery. “Course.” he gritted out. “Wouldn’t want a buncha bored soldiers to have a way to pass the time while getting shipped up to have their asses handed to them by the natives.”

“I don’t make the rules.” Mr Binder simpered and Elvis wanted to smack the man, see if he’d be into that, too. “But I do suspect you’ll be paying wages for all your offloaded dependents and so, we come back round to the books and the depleted money and I’m saying that something drastic needs to occur so that the Waterways Committee has some security.”

“You want the boat?”

“Oh I wouldn’t be so cruel.” Mr Binder tutted, “I’d like a contract drawn up, signed by yourself and myself and Mr. Moore, perhaps Mr. Cash’s mark would add weight, and the details of it are benevolent -I’ve left it with a fellow to give Mr, Moore, it’s already drawn up- but it would ensure that stupendous half percent that is currently flowing from Parker’s pockets to the gaming tables will, eventually, be the Committee's share.”

“You think you’re real slick, don’t ya. Gonna offer me a deal no better than the last? How bout 40 percent.”

“How about,” Mr Binder put his finger to his pretty little lips and pretended to ponder, “I get you a new boat as this one is, god bless her, hardly staying above water. And uh, 30 percent, with a clause in there for a pension.”

“Who’s pension?” Elvis puzzled.

“You’re wife’s, Captain.” Mr. Binder huffed impatiently, “that extra ten will go to her, in case anything should befall you. Prison or the Colonel, you see I make provisions for innocents, just as you do.”

“I don’t have a wife, Mr. Binder.”

“No? Well, I suggest you make one, speedily, before that contract gets signed, in fact.”

“Make a wife?”

“If God managed it out of a rib, surely Elvis Presley can out of a Purser?” Mr. Binder was growing a bit giddy in his success and Elvis had to close his eyes and recall the fellow’s tear stained humiliation last night in order to press on.

“This is gonna serve what purpose?”

“Mr. Moore suggested that as things are, it’s all a muddle, and trying to untangle your affairs from Parker’s -including who owns the boat- would be hopeless. If taken to trial, the jury would vote for the wife. Parker hasn’t got one, but you, you would have one by then wouldn't you?” Binder seemed to have some second sense that this morning had been hellish and that pressing the point before breakfast was an easy way to make the Captain break.

“You’re suggesting I enter and pervert a sacred institution in order to save some money?” Elvis bit out.

“Wouldn’t be the first time you bent such a thing to your will, would it?” Binder sniffed then flinched as Elvis rose to his feet with uncanny speed and charged him, fists clenched, “And think, sir,” he aimed for respect as Elvis stood there ready to inflict pain, “Miss Beaumont would not only be provided for, she would also make certain that the half allocated to her would support your dependents. Say you were arrested, say the malaria catches up to you, say you get shot for being a bastard,” Mr Binder smiled almost fondly at that, “she and your dependents would have your money. If you can’t trust her, if what I thought I saw between you last night was not all theater, or perhaps one of your mulatto women will do.”

“You’ve been talking with Jerry and Moore, haven’t you?” Elvis muttered, fists slowly uncurling.

“Ah, yes.” Mr Binder had the goodness to look abashed, but that was more likely brought on by the ominous way Elvis was still standing over him, barely pacified, “And Sister Rosetta, that’s your uh, uh”

“Quartermaster.”

“Yes, her!” Binder agreed, “It would seem there is a benevolent mutiny aboard, Captain. And if your conscience smites you for turning in Parker to his just desserts, I suggest you tell it to consider the well being of your crew?”

��And the well being of your pockets.” Elvis pointed out.

“My goal, Captain, is to do so excellent a job in the position afforded me on this godforsaken river that when President Grant’s dismal excuse for a term runs out and the great reshuffling begins, -no fault will be found with me. Or those under me. And not for one single minute will the Bureaucrats think to relieve me of my post and return me east to the shadow of my father and the arms of a wife I cannot stand. Do you hear me now? And I’m offering you a chance to not get culled with the chaff.”

“Has anyone else’s boat been requisitioned, Mr. Binder?” Elvis asked, quietly and in a tone Binder could not decipher.

“Well, no one else asked to be used.” he laughed at last, “But I’m sure someone else’s will be as yours alone is not sufficiently large.”

“Then may I ask you a favor of my own, Mr. Binder?” Elvis ventured from beneath fluttering lashes.

“Uh, yes, of course, if it’s in my power.”

“Mmm, sounds like just about anythin is in your power, sir.” Elvis intoned alluringly, slinking to a crouch beside the arm of Binder’s chair, much to that official's shivering foreboding, “Is there any way you could manage to purloin Captain Jones’ boat as well?” he asked, voice going soft and high, sounding about as young and harmless as a child.

“What are you up to?” Binder asked, warily taking in the elegant hands clasped atop his chair arm and the alluring v of the Captain’s squat and the calculated harmlessness that the man, well past thirty, was swathing himself in, to an alarmingly successful effect.

“I-I just thought…” Elvis trailed off as if bashful of his thoughts.

“What did you think?” Binder demanded with outraged morality, about to flee from the scene of his second, imminent ruination and this terrifying, forever morphing creature squatted before him. “What did you think, Captain?”

“Well, t-t-there’s no need for all that, sir,” Captain Presley’s soulful eyes looked wounded and his cherubic lips, highlighted by the no doubt calculated slant of those damned sideburns, wobbled in hurt, “I-I just thought maybe Jones an’ me could have a lil race up the river while we’re at it, just a teaser of sorts.” He confessed, bashfully looking down at his hands and shrugging his shoulders in the manner of the forever falsely accused.

“God damn you to hell, Presley.” Binder seethed through his own mirth as Elvis’ shoulders began to shake up and down in something besides pantomimed hurt. Eventually both men were laughing, the act abandoned, one perhaps more uproariously than the other, but there was humor found at last. Captain Presley also rose to his feet, by some merciful intervention of a loving God looking out for Mr. Binder’s soul.

“You know.” Binder huffed when some sobriety had been regained, “The whole world isn’t full of dogs and bitches, there’s no need for this whole…whatever it is, you do.”

“Don’t you ever just do something for the fun of it, Binder?”

“Yes, occasionally,” Binder rejoined, “Do you?”

“Yeah,” Elvis got a fond look of reminiscence which suggested it had been awhile, “I race riverboats and charge the extra coal to the colonel’s account.”

“I’ll see to it that Captain Jones’ coal is charged similarly.” Binder smirked and Elvis felt the first taste of genuine like for this man, “Although Parker’s assets may be frozen due to imprisonment by that time.” he quipped, “Best to transfer the rest of the funds to a Mrs. Presley lest they take the brunt of such expenditures.”

“I’m hearin you.” the mirth had gone right out of the Captain's voice, “Can I not just sign it to my father?”

“What? With him in prison, too? Be sensible, Captain. It’s either a wife or child. Wait -have you got a child?”

“No.” Elvis could finally say that with certainty thanks to Rosey’s report. Maddy’s son was not his.

“Shocking.” Binder teased and Elvis might have been in the mood to laugh were he not contemplating marrying a woman who he thought was a different woman twelve hours before. “Invite me to the wedding won’t you? I was thinking this evening would be best, I’ll even ensure the Colonel is on the noon train down to Memphis so as not to meddle.”

“I ain’t gonna make this a church weddin.” Elvis insisted.

“Well, alright, easier in court anyway.” Binder shrugged, watching Presley’s sullen demeanor curiously, “I had thought such a thing was already imminent between you two-“

“Is that all, Mr. Binder?” Captain Presley cut in.

“Until this evening and the contract, yes, I suppose so.” Binder rose, sensing his blatant dismissal, “I’ll arrange the Colonel’s ticket and uh, meet you at the courthouse, yes?”

“I’ll send word if that particular endeavor is on.” Elvis parlayed.

“Oh it had better be, sir.” Binder reiterated, earnestly. “Or you and she will be wiped clean of funds, and my efforts for that pardon will be as nothing.”

“I’m hearin you, Mr. Binder.” it was a wonder that so ominous a voice, like an earthquake or the rush of an elemental force, could have affected brainless innocence so capably a few moments ago. Binder’s brain and other organs were confused by the change, but that was becoming a familiar feeling when in Captain Presley’s presence.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Mr. Binder muttered, at a loss as to how to conclude one of the most eventful interviews of his life when his opponent (or was it ally?) had his back to him, staring out the window with soulless eyes.

Binder let himself out.

Captain Presley followed shortly after, his steamrolling gait bound for the mess hall and a long overdue breakfast.

“Captain!” Calhoun waylaid him right in front of the mess hall doors, right where he could smell the scent of bacon and eggs and his sought after sanity.

“Lemme guess, you wanna complain ‘bout the Colonel ta me.” he slurred exhaustedly while dragging the boy along from where he hung on his jacket sleeve.

“Matter o fact, ye-“

“Take a number, boy.” he sighed, pushing open the doors to the mess and vowing to eat something before he heard another word spoken in English or otherwise about his benevolent partner.

I’ve made the following one time taglist for those of you who used to like and comment and enjoy this work on my previous, deactivated blog. I thought I’d alert y’all that this project is still ongoing, I’m still ticking and there’s new chapters if you have any interest. Cheers and all the love 💋 ~Marina/@aconflagrationofmyown

@tacozebra051

@notstefaniepresley

@tyne18

@horror-movieshoes

@lillypink

@blurredcolour

@bisexualwatson

@j-v-9-2

@pearlparty

@crash-and-cure

@dkayfixates

@woundmetender

@captainthisamerica

@eliseinmemphis

@lindszepplin

@foreverdolly

@ab4eva

@jelliedonut

@powerofelvis

@thatbanditqueen

@lookingforrainbows

@vintageworld

@robinismywife

@from-memphis-with-love

@steph-speaks

@avengen

@butlersxbirdy

@ash-omalley

@eliseinmemphis

@stylespresleyhearted

@missmaywemeetagain

@prompted-wordsmith

@whositmcwhatsit

@snowf86

@vinnvered

@butlervol6

@artlover8992

@coolgirl462

@cigaretess

#elvis fanfiction #mine #a whole man is hard to find #elvis imagine #elvis fanfic #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis x you #elvis smut #austin butler elvis #austin elvis fandom #austin elvis x reader #southern gothic

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assortedvillainvault · 10 days

Note

Malefecent had fallen to Dr.facilier charming nature.He also finds Malefecent Attractive and suggests they go on a date to know each other little better.

Oooh this one took a bit of thinking! I don't think they'd become a full on pair, but a little fling wouldn't hurt...

Maleficent x Dr. Facilier: A Risky Venture

- It wasn't unusual for new villains to get a crush on Maleficent. Like – yes hello, water is wet, the Mouse won’t shut up, and the Mistress Of All Evil is the most attractive thing on legs, what else is new?

- It was, however, MUCH rarer for a newcomer to actually approach the elder villainess and make a move.

- To date only ten of the 127 Disney villains had ever tried, to varying degrees of success.

- Dr Facilier wasn’t one to simply sidle up and try his luck. At least not without a game plan and some research.

- Simply asking around got him some sly smirks, a huffy eye roll from Hades and the sort of glazed-over look from Jafar that spoke of things he’d really rather not hear about. Ursula cackled enough through her drink that he put her in the same ‘don’t ask’ camp as Jafar. Queen Grimhilde didn’t even deign to respond, and the Horned King simply glared and mimed breaking his neck for asking.

- The other five that had ever tried were apparently smote into craters for the audacity. He cast a look over the singed walls and decided to let those lie.

- He slid into a seat at an empty table, feeling Shadow pool around his feet under the long cloth. Idly, he let his cards flick and tumble through his fingers, deftly shuffling and reshuffling.

- The Loa were off the table. A. Because a date definitely counted as ‘something for himself’. B. Because he could hardly trust them when dealing with something so open ended as a crush. And c. Because he knew she would perceive him as lesser for depending on their help.

- He’d always had good eyes. Able to see what most others couldn’t. And while he would never claim to see through every disguise...from day one he’d been able to see the way fire and scales stretched and twisted under her skin – the way the lights in the room dimmed and flickered under her smile, how her cloak was full of raven feathers and vicious thorns. He could see the way her presence lanced through a crowd like a silent lightning strike – all ozone and anticipation under the thin blanket of night.

- When Hades had leaned over and clicked his jaw shut with a smirk, slyly asking “First time?” it’d taken all he had not to slip into the shadows – donning his signature charm like a shield.

- He blinked down at his hands, frowning at the faces of cards he’d laid down by habit. The devil, the seven of swords, the tower…

- A perfect talon clicks onto the tower. His heart thuds into his mouth as he looks up (and up and UP, hell she’s tall-) at the amused, elegant smile of one Mistress of All Evil.

- Hahaha shit.

- At a loss, he flings himself into his tried and tested talent: talking.

- “Evening, ma’am.” He tips his hat and tried desperately not to overthink the amused upturn of her lips, finding it to be much the same expression as a cat playing with mice. “To what do I owe the pleasure, stopping by little ol’ me?” Should he try and kiss her hand?? It was right there, he should probably look into how to regrow fingers just in case- “Is there...” he swallows. “Anything I can, help you with?”

- She chuckles, and he feels it run though his bones as if he were stood right next to a brass band’s drummers. Shadow has a vice grip on his ankles under the table and he tries so hard not to remember being dragged to his grave, tries not to kick his one remaining friend as Maleficent’s yellow eyes bore into his violet ones and he swears he might know how Hook feels – sized up by a reptile willing and eager to swallow him whole-

- “Plenty, little doctor.” She smiles, slow and sharp. He swallows thickly, fighting not to grin. “if you feel...up to the challenge?”

- He feels his lips drag up into an ill advised grin. “Yes ma’am~”

#thalassa responds #disney villains #thanks so much for the ask!!#disney maleficent #maleficent #disney dr faciler #dr facilier #DVCule relevant I suppose? but def can be read outside of that AU #Maleficent would likely see facilier as an amusing distraction rather than enything approaching equal #Facilier is a little too addicted to getting involved with powers far beyond his own #The dragon and the con man is a fun duo tho!

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firstkanaphans · 7 months

Note

Bostonnick and P for the promt thing if you feel like it, because i need more bostonnick in my life :)

Y’all. I don’t even know anymore. This is set in an alternate universe where Boston decides to behave himself at the end of episode 5 and not pick a fight with Ray. It is explicit and also slightly kinkier than what I usually write, so heed the warnings below. Word Count: 756 Rating/Warnings: Explicit; Semi-public sex, exhibitionism

[P]ersuading them to do something naughty

If Boston was being honest, the first time he’d fucked Nick, he’d thought him tame—virginal, even. He’d been so eager for Boston’s touch that it made him clumsy and he'd come so fast Boston had just assumed that he was the exciting thing in Nick’s life. It was only now, weeks later, that he was starting to realize he was wrong. It was the other way around.

“Fuck me,” Nick whispered into his ear, taking the lobe between his lips and sucking. They were both cross-faded, sitting on the couch in Nick’s living room surrounded by empty beer bottles and the crumbs from one too many weed cookies, and Boston would be lying if he said he wasn’t itching to fuck someone. But there was the small issue of Ray.

He looked through the glass door towards the back patio where Ray and Sand had excused themselves for privacy. They had been making out at one point—Boston knew because he had been watching them—but they both seemed to be asleep now, curled up together on the same beanbag. But still, the door remained ajar. Boston could see them.

“Let’s go to your room,” he said, standing. Nick pulled him back down.

“No,” he said with a smirk. “Here.”

Sometimes Boston got the feeling that Nick only offered things like this to titillate him—to keep him interested, to try to make himself seem more desirable than everyone else Boston was fucking—but then he saw the excitement on Nick's face and started to think maybe he had underestimated him.

Nick was the first person he had ever been with that was willing to fuck him in the daylight, that wanted to show him off, that wanted other people to see. And sometimes when he invited Boston over, it wasn’t even for sex. It was as if he actually enjoyed Boston’s presence. As if he was having fun. Boston wanted to have fun too.

“You have to be quiet,” Boston said sternly. Nick’s face lit up and he playfully mimed zipping his lips even though they both knew he wasn’t the one who had a problem with volume anyway.

Boston took one last look at the patio door—at Ray and Sand still sleeping—and said, “Fuck it.” Then he pulled Nick onto his lap and kissed him hard.

The two of them had had a lot of sex over the past couple months and Boston hadn’t been lying when he said Nick was his favorite because Nick cared about Boston's pleasure more than his own. They undressed just enough to expose the important bits and it took no time at all before Boston had Nick pinned to the couch and was pushing inside of him. He held his hand over Nick’s mouth to keep him quiet, but it ended up being pointless. Boston was the one that moaned. Nick’s body just felt so good wrapped around his cock—it was like he had been made for him—and he knew how to use his body to bring Boston pleasure.

“Shh,” Nick scolded, but he looked pleased nevertheless.

From Boston’s position on the couch, he could look up and see outside. Ray and Sand hadn’t moved, but just being able to see them, just knowing that they could, was driving him crazy. Boston had had threesomes before, but he had never done this. He felt like his whole body was on display and he wanted to show off.

He fucked Nick harder, burying his face in his neck, and he came much sooner than he expected. He wasn’t quiet about it either, but he was too turned on to care about getting caught. Luckily, Ray and Sand didn’t move.

“Did you like that?” Nick asked, stroking his hair.

Boston nodded. “You’re a bad influence on me.”

Nick preened at the compliment. “I think it’s probably mutual.”

They ended up retiring to Nick’s bedroom, but although Nick fell asleep fast, Boston was too wired to sleep. There was this foreign feeling taking root inside of him that he couldn’t quite place. He looked down at Nick, his face relaxed in sleep, and a smile pulled at his lips. It no longer felt like a chore to stay and fall asleep by his side. It felt nice, actually, to have someone next to him.

Maybe he could get used to this after all.

For the Fluff Prompt ABCs

#it is my headcanon that ray woke up in the middle of this saw what was happening and just rolled over and went back to sleep #also yes i am aware nick didn’t come #i did that on purpose #boston is a selfish lover and you can't change my mind #nick likes it #only friends the series #only friends fic #bostonnick #bostonnick fic #sarah writes things #fluff prompt abcs

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lostfirefly · 3 months

Text

Let's stay together, loving you whether, whether times are good and bad, happy or sad

The idea for this one-shot came to me last night. I know there are a lot of fanfictions about someone is braiding Buggy's hair, but let's be honest, we all want to do it :)

Buggy had a rough day, he came home upset and got a share of comfort from his Cathie-pie :)

Warnings: Fluff (ponies and unicorns are still here)

Words: 1596

Buggy x OC from my “You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me” series.

The title is taken from "Let's stay together" by Al Green

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Masterlist

Taglist: @gingernut1314

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

It was already late. Catherine was sitting on the couch, sipping wine and watching a movie when she heard the front door open and close with a big bang. From the hallway came the endless grumbling of "they can't do anything," "fucking idiots." The sound of heavy, shuffling footsteps, accompanied by a disgruntled growl grew closer.

Catherine set her glass down on the table next to the couch and was already greet her beloved clown. Buggy came into the living room.

"My Buggy Bear! You're home!" She smiled broadly and held out her hand to him, inviting him to join her on the couch. “Come here! I missed you.”

Buggy looked at her for a few seconds, sighed heavily and headed for the bedroom. All she heard was the bed creak as he fell on top of it with his whole body.

“Is everything ok?” Catherine asked from the couch but in response she received only heavy sighs, sobbing and grumbling into the pillow. She got up and went to the bedroom.

“What happened?” Catherine saw Buggy lying face down in the pillow, his head, arms and legs lying separately from his body. “Oh God, something really must have happened to make you fall apart,” she said in a slightly mocking tone. “At least you’re not pouring blood all over here. I'd be tired of cleaning up after you.”

Catherine carefully crawled over the body and sat down next to him. She took one of his detached hands in her hand and with the other hand began to stroke his body on the back. Sounds of pleasure came from the pillow. Catherine smiled and continued stroking and slightly scratching his back.

“Do you want to talk?” She asked quietly. She placed his hand next to her and began to lightly scratch it with her fingers. Catherine could barely contain her laughter when she saw the fingers on his hand begin to twitch joyfully.

“T..a..i.. evrh is fllng apt..” The sounds of muttering mixed with the sounds of pleasure were muffled in the pillow.

“What? I don't understand what you're grumbling about, my silly clown.” Catherine started laughing slightly.

Buggy turned his head over on the pillow and glanced at Catherine with wet eyes. “Fuck! I said they are idiots, everything is falling apart. Jugglers don't know how to juggle, acrobats get confused in their movements. The show is already in a week but it feels like I’m not running a professional circus, I’m running a fucking kindergarten… I swear God, if I had bombs, I’d... Oh, fuck, Cathie-pie, don't stop." He instinctively put his back under the scratching movement of her hands. "So good."

“Come on, I'm sure it's not so bad.”

“Not bad? Today a fakir set a mime on fire. Oh, shit, yes. The juggler kept dropping his balls. Oh, shit, yes. Trust me, cotton candy, you're a better juggler than this bunch of idiots."

"I'm flattered by your high rating but do you remember how your last training session ended for me? Sorry, honey, but all the tomatoes died a horrible death on the floor."

"The knife thrower almost hit me." He said irritably.

"This is completely beyond the bounds. Only I have the right to throw knives at you." She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “I'm sure everything will work out. And you know why?” Catherine started saying compliments between kisses. “You're great.” Smack. “You’re smart.” Smack. “Strong.” Smack. “Handsome.” Smack. “Funny.” Smack. “You have the most successful and amazing circus not only in Cairo but in all of Egypt. Today is just a bad day.” Smack, smack.

The head on the pillow looked at Catherine for a minute and Buggy finally collected his whole body back.

“That's my boy! Hi! Come here.” She smiled and wiggled her fingers slightly, inviting him to move closer.

Buggy carefully moved towards her, laid his head on her chest and sighed heavily.

“Oh, my silly clown. Everything will be fine! How can I help you?” She ran her hands down his back. “Do you want me to make your favorite macaroni and cheese?”. Buggy mumbled "nah".

“Or your favorite tacos?” Catherine received one more “nah” in response. “Okay. We still have your favorite donuts with cherry jam. But if you want, I can go and buy you donuts with peach jam. Do you want me to bring you some whiskey and donuts to our bed?"

He shook his head. “Don't go anywhere, please. Can we just lie like this for a while?”

“Of course, my Buggy Bear. We can hang out like this all evening if you want.” She kissed the top of his head twice.

“This Is still a terrible nickname, baby. When are you going to change it?” He muttered, almost without opening his mouth.

Catherine said "shush", carefully removed his bandana and began straightening his long blue hair. With one hand, she gently ran her fingers through his hair, twirling it around her index finger. The second hand hugged his back.

Buggy hugged her with both arms, his head remained on her chest. He sighed heavily once again and said quietly. “Why are you with me?”

“I thought we figured this out a long time ago. Because I love you.”

“Yes, I recall something like that.” He chuckled. “Someone told me that in my circus.”

“It was me, you idiot. In your tent. The last time I carelessly brought you sandwiches, thinking my stupid boyfriend was starving to death in there. And he started behaving inappropriately."

“Oh yes, I remember that day. One beautiful girl sat on me and I brought her to the main point sev..."

Catherine tsked at him. "Don't you dare continue that phrase, you bastard." She reddened.

He laughed but abruptly became sad. “You're too good for me. But I'm glad you're with me. Even if I don't deserve it. I’m glad.."

She kissed the top of his head again. "Don't say this shit, please." She placed one hand on the top of his head and began scratching it lightly. With her other hand, she ran it down his back.

“Oh, shit. It's too good. Please, don't stop.” He instinctively moved his head a little closer to her hand. His movements began to resemble those of a cat.

“You like that?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Catherine began to move gently all over his head. In response, she heard something that sounded like purring.

“Oh, dear God. It feels so-o-o good, my cotton candy. Please, don't stop. Fuck. So, so good.”

“My blue-haired cat, you ok?” She giggled softly.

“I’m totally okay. Did I tell you how much I adore you?”

“Really? I’ve never heard that. Who are you the man I’m scratching and what did you do with my silent, unemotional boyfriend?”

“Little shit!” He moved closer to her. “So warm…You're so warm, my cotton candy. Warm and kind..and..”

He didn't finish his sentence and sighed once again.

Cather continued massaging his head. “Do you feel better?”

“Uh-huh,” Buggy said, barely quiet. “So-o so good. I dn dsr u.”

“What did you just say?” She asked softly and raised her right eyebrow.

“Nothing.” He gently removed her hand, sat down on the bed and leaned his back on the headboard.

Catherine immediately sat down next to him, placing her legs under her buttocks. She stroked his face, took two strands of his hair and started braiding them into little pigtails.

Buggy looked at her and didn't know how to react. “What are you doing?”

“I’m having fun and you are not allowed to say anything. Your hair is so long and beautiful it's hard to resist and not to play with them. Have I ever told you that your hair color is my favorite shade of blue?”

Buggy really tried to pretend he didn't like that Catherine touched his hair. “Cathie-pie, stop, please. Don't turn me into Bob Marley.”

“Bob Marley had dreadlocks, stupid clown. And if you keep me from having fun, I'll braid them for you.” She took two strands on the other side and started braiding his hair there. “You see. Now you look like a grumpy cat with braids.” She mocked his face, pecked him on his nose and started braiding another one pigtail.

Buggy followed her movements with his eyes for several minutes, sighing occasionally.

“Why do I let you treat me like this?” He rolled his eyes and crossed his hands.

Catherine unbraided and braided his hair, humming softly under her breath.

“You're so lucky I love you.” Buggy said quietly.

“Or what? What would you do if you didn't love me?”

His face instantly changed. “I would do that.” Buggy abruptly pulled Catherine onto his lap, making her sit facing him. She only managed to squeal.

“What the fuck? You were dying and whining five minutes ago.” She asked in a surprised high voice.

“Who's been dying and whining? It wasn't me. You've got me mixed with someone else.” He put his arms around her, pulled her against him, and smashed his lips into hers.

“Nooo!!” Catherine leaned back.

“It's all your fault again, cotton candy. You've entered forbidden territory.” He pulled her back and started kissing her neck.

“Please, no. Let's go to the kitchen and eat donuts." Catherine tried to gently push him away, realizing she was losing control.

“Na-ah.” He ran his lips along her neck, then kissed her lips and moved to the other side of her neck.

“Oh, I hate you with all my heart, fucking clown!” She said in a weak voice and began to take off his T-shirt.

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