#i'll look for the screen shot I saved later

[lucifersincentivetosleep]

Loaded up the OG to grind through LD and got called out in the chats

I legit have had fanart of Pirate Lucifer as my Phone background for like ever now.

But also what do you mean "explain"? Sir, I think it should be obvious why you're my phone background, stop teasing me and come get kithes.

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[littlegrapejuice]

Saved his life | LS2

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Summary: You come to check on Logan after qualifying at the Dutch GP, hoping to lift his spirits.

Author's Note: ok so this literally came to me in a dream😭 logan's replacement was announced on tuesday (still crying about it btw) and istg i woke up wednesday morning after having lived this plot during my sleep

You had been seeking him out after FP3, and were once again seeking him out after qualifying. Logan was nowhere to be found and you worried about the state he mentally was in since his crash. The backlash from his team as well as journalists had blown out of proportion, for they were all focusing on the damages suffered by the car before considering the health of the driver.

Similar to you, Logan's fans were doing their best to support him and wondered about how he was doing. You had seen many comments online about people complaining that neither Williams - as in James Vowles - nor commentators had expressed an interest in the well-being of the driver, only talking about ruining a newly upgraded car - which would be proven illegal later on.

Scouring the paddock, you were now going from garage to garage looking for Logan. Obviously, you had first gone to the Williams one but without any success in finding the American. You hadn't even known at first if he was actually at the track, but a quick shot of him on the TV screen had confirmed you that he was indeed in his garage.

This is why as soon as qualifying ended, you had waited for George to come back to the Mercedes garage so that you could notify him that you were leaving for the time being. You had plans together later tonight, meaning that he didn't mind you doing whatever you wanted until then.

And that's thus how you were still walking around the paddock, praying that it wouldn't take much longer to find Logan.

As you then thought you had seen him from afar, someone obviously had to come up to you and stop you in your tracks. You turned around at the tap on your shoulder and was met with a blonde driver, but not quite the one you would've rather faced.

"Hi Max," you said with a smile.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked both because he was genuinely interested in your answer and because he couldn't help but notice you frantically looking around.

"Yeah, I'm good! Congrats on P2, that's great at your home race." You gave a last glance to the side and decided to temporarily abort your mission as you had unfortunately lost sight of who you thought had been Logan.

"Thanks, I wish I could've gotten pole but I'll get the first place from turn one so that's alright."

"I'll be internally rooting for you, but you know I'll have to stick to my roots and publicly support my team."

"Of course," Max replied. "The Red Bull garage is always open if you ever feel like changing your mind. We also probably have better food than Mercedes." He let out a smile at your laugh before scratching his throat, as if he was thinking about his next words. "Listen, I-"

"Sorry Max," you apologised as you checked your watch and got afraid you would miss logan leaving the track. "I'd love to talk more with you but I was on the way to do something important so please make it quick."

"Yeah, hmm... did you have the chance to visit the city and its surroundings? I was thinking that..." Max hesitated before he saw you nodding at him, silently telling him to continue. "We could grab a drink or some food later on, and I can show you around? Seeing as this is my home country, I'm pretty familiar with it so I could give you a proper tour and you'd see things that you would never see with a regular tour guide and-"

"Sounds lovely yeah!" You felt pretty bad for interrupting him once again, but the clock was really ticking and you were getting more nervous. "I already have something planned for tonight though, so maybe another day?"

"Well, there's only tomorrow left then. After the race?" He suggested with hope in his tone.

"I'll get back to you on that. Depending on who's winning, I might be celebrating someone else you know."

"Of course, but I'm pretty confident that I can score another victory here."

"Great, then that's settled! Super cool to chat with you Max, I'll see you later." You waved at him and quickly started walking again to the direction you had last seen Logan several minutes ago.

You were gone so fast that you hadn't even heard Max telling you that he would text you his request again, as he had sensed that your focus had been on all but your exchange with him. You liked Max to be honest; he was a really sweet guy and could easily match your energy as a fellow yapper. However, he had chosen the worst moment to strike up a conversation with you. Thinking about how you could repay it to him next time you'd see him - probably tomorrow, all your stress was going away as you finally found the person you were looking for.

You stopped close enough to him that he would notice you, but a few metres away so that you had time to catch your breath without it being too obvious that you had been almost running around for him.

As he called out your name, you couldn't help the smile that lit up your face.

"You're good?"

"I am now, thanks. Been searching for you, you know? You're quite hard to find," you told him in complete honesty with a light laugh.

"Really?" Logan was surprised by your words. He hadn't expected anyone to come talk to him today, except for his teammate Alex or a couple drivers texting him for a check up.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I couldn't see you after practice earlier and I thought talking to you face to face was better than a text so yes, I was looking for you."

If you and Logan weren't surrounded by hundreds of people, he would definitely shed a tear at your kindness - not like anyone was actually paying attention to the both of you as you were on the side of the path. He didn't think a headline consisting of F1 Driver Logan Sargeant seen crying while talking with F1 Driver George Russel's long-time friend was a good idea though.

"And you wanted to talk to me about something important?" He wondered.

"That's what I said", you replied. "I wanted to talk to you, about you, I guess."

"That's not super-"

"It is," you immediately interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. You knew what he was about to say and you were definitely not letting him give voice to his thoughts. Seeing as he was still taken aback by your words, you kept going. "You're important, Logan. More than a random chassis, or an engine, or whatever they put in the shit car that they make you drive."

Hearing your own sentence, you were about to apologise for the strong opinion - Logan was driving said car so you didn't know if you were right to comment on it - but the chuckle that came from the American stopped you from doing so. It didn't last long as Logan quickly covered his mouth, thus shutting down the sound, but you suddenly wished you could hear it again.

And not because you're trash talking his team, but because you're, let's say, watching a movie together and a funny scene comes up; or because you're walking around a park and he laughs at your clumsiness when you almost trip on a random rock.

You just wished, right now, that you weren't at the track, in this paddock, with all those cars and people around. You just wanted to be with him, in a quiet place where you could just enjoy each other's presence without having to worry about a team principal that didn't take his driver's needs into account or about journalists that couldn't seem to see the human aspect of a driver behind the suit and helmet.

Your thoughts were however soon interrupted when a hand appeared in front of your face.

"Hello? Earth to whatever planet you're on?" Logan had a smile on his face. He wasn't laughing anymore but he didn't seem annoyed either at your silence. "Did you get lost in your mind?"

"Possibly", you answered with a nervous laugh. "Sorry, won't happen again."

"It's fine, don't worry."

You could see Logan was genuine in his eyes. The way they were being lit up by the sun suddenly made you wonder about what was hidden behind it. They often say that eyes are the mirror of the soul; but for now, you could only see yourself in Logan's.

"Hey Logan," you said after a few seconds of silence. He glanced down at you, which you took as a sign to continue. "Do you wanna hang out with me tonight? I- hmm I have this dinner with George, Lando, Alex, and their girls. And it could be nice of you to join. I mean, if you want to of course, and if you don't have anything planned already but yeah, that'd be cool. I'd like that."

When Logan didn't reply, you started to think that it was over and that your stress was so obvious, and that he wasn't going to accept the offer. But then:

"I'd love to." Your gaze was now filled with hope, until the next words left Logan's mouth. "But I think I need to be alone tonight. It's absolutely not against you or the others, but today hasn't been the best day for me as you obviously know and even though it could lighten up my mood, I'd rather focus on tomorrow's race."

"Oh, hmm... okay, yeah... I totally get it, no problem."

Logan was not dumb; he noticed your immediate change of attitude as you lowered your gaze, so he decided to add on to his explanation:

"It's just a raincheck, you know? I'm not going out tonight, but I'd absolutely be down for another day if we both find the time. Sounds good?"

"Yeah!" You nodded with a smile. "Raincheck, okay, got it."

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go for now." Logan gave you a smile before checking his phone. "I'll get back to you for a hang out, but thanks for taking the time to talk with me. I truly appreciate it."

"It's normal, we're friends so... I wasn't really thinking twice about it."

"Then thank you for that as well. We'll see each other later, right?"

"Of course," you confirmed. "Race's tomorrow so at least then, goodbye for now Logan."

"Bye, take care."

He gave you a quick hug before departing, and next thing you knew, he was gone. You then turned around, ready to exit the paddock and go back to your hotel, so that you could get ready for your dinner tonight with your friends.

.....

"George, hey!" You called out to him as you saw him from afar. "Thanks for waiting, sorry I'm a little late."

"No problem," he replied. "I sent Alex and the girls inside to keep us a table. We're just missing Lando, but I think he'll be here soon."

As if on cue, you had received a text. Thinking it was from the curly haired man, you opened it in front of George before reading the sender and the content of the message.

Hi! Regarding our conversation from earlier, I decided to formally ask if you wanted to grab dinner with me tomorrow night after the race?

A smile unknowingly took place on your face, and George couldn't help but notice it.

"What's got you all happy?" He asked before adding a comment. "You're even blushing so I guess this is not Lando."

"It's no one," you said as you immediately locked your phone before George could look at the screen. "Just a friend I'm supposed to catch up with tomorrow."

"You have friends other than us in the Netherlands right now?" A familiar voice questioned from behind you.

"Lando!" George exclaimed as the last of your group was finally here. "Hey mate. Congrats on pole. Good quali you did there."

"Thanks man." Lando glanced at you while the three of you started walking inside the hotel, towards the restaurant. "So what's this about a friend of yours?"

"Drop it Lando," you replied, annoyed - although you could truly never be annoyed with him. "I'll tell you all about it when it's over if you still wanna know after the weekend."

"Of course I will! I'll even bring that up in the groupchat so you'll have to tell this wonderful and absolutely not suspicious story to everyone," Lando laughed as he nudged your side.

Thankfully, neither George nor Lando had brought up the topic with the others, even though they were still curious on what you were hiding. You were glad that they didn't because how could you even explain to them that you would be going out to dinner with a fellow driver? You honestly didn't think they would mind, but you also didn't want them to go and bother said driver when you knew that the paddock's walls had ears everywhere.

Hoping that it would be fine to reply to the text later, you had therefore waited until you were back in your hotel room to agree to the offer. Tonight's dinner had been amazing and you were always happy to spend time with your friends whom you didn't see much, but tomorrow's would be something even more special as it would actually be your first time hanging out one on one with the driver you were maybe fancying.

Before forgetting, you also decided to notify your friends of your plans - omitting the driver aspect of the 'friend' you would be seeing after the race - so that they wouldn't be surprised to not see you attend any celebration. Of course you would try and spend some time with the winner if he was part of your friend group, but at least you were in the clear to not go party all night with them.

.....

And you had never once regretted not attending the party that had celebrated Lando's win at the Dutch Grand Prix. He had told you that day after the race that you would have a myriad of other chances to attend another one as he was planning on winning more and more often - which he did.

Tonight's party, however, would be in your honour. As well as Logan's. And you couldn't see yourself anywhere else than here, in front of him. You truly didn't think you would one day end up in this situation, and neither did he. Logan hadn't really expected to experience such an event in his life, but he eventually did, all thanks to you.

You had saved his life. That day, when you reached out to him after qualifying, was unknowingly a turning point in his life. He had been at his lowest. He had known what would certainly happen following the Grand Prix; he had been expecting to be let go after the disastrous performances he was giving.

Knowing didn't make it less painful though.

He did get dropped by his team, Williams, which you cursed for as long as you could and still did from time to time. And even if Logan had achieved being a Formula One driver - which no one could ever take away from him, he had still felt like he was worthless after it happened.

He hadn't known how to process the sudden end of his short time on the grid and felt lost for a while, wondering about what would define him as a person now that the dream he'd had since he was a child was over.

But you had made him believe that it wasn't the end of the world and that something else was waiting for him. He could've ended it all, but you showed him a glimmer of hope and he chose to keep going, see what else was in store for him. He still had a future. And he had been right to trust you, as he was now here, facing you and about to be making you his. Only two words left to say before doing so.

'Thank you', he mouthed to you before the long-awaited sentence was to be heard out loud. "I do", he then confirmed without tearing his gaze away from your face.

..........

Okayyyy so this it lol

Hope y'all liked it🫶🏻 this was my 1st time ever writing for a driver since i got into motorsports and I feel really happy w it!! Thanks to my brain for making me dream ab logan, i think it kinda helps me cope regarding him not being the grid anymore (i miss him sm chat)

Idk when I'll write again for a driver if i ever do so, but don't hesitate to give feedback on this so that ik how to approach a future work🤍

[mochie85]

I'll Follow You

One Shot Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You came back to the compound, a year later after you left to make your own career, and you are worried about meeting Loki with how things ended when you left. Pairing: Romantic!Loki x OC Female Reader (Foxglove is her Superhero alias.) Word Count: Over 5.3k Warnings: Explicit. Fluff. Angst. Smut. Oral (female receiving). Shadowplay. Hallucinations.

Loki flipped through the magazine at a hurried pace, not looking at the photos or any of the articles. His hands needed something tactile to do. Or else, he feared, he might choke someone with them.

He paused when he saw an advertisement for a watch you were modeling for. There you were—a close-up of your beautiful face. Your eyes were bright and round. Your lips were dewy and sensual. Norns, he missed those lips. Especially when they were wrapped around his…

Ugh. Why can’t I stop thinking of her?! Loki snarled under his breath as he threw the magazine halfway across the room. It landed on the floor right by Sam’s feet. “You dropped this!” Sam said picking it up from the floor. He held it up in the air, not even looking, his attention fully absorbed on the TV screen.

Everyone had gathered to watch the talk show you were appearing on tonight. They couldn’t wait to see you come out and gossip about your life or inconsequential things. The entire team supported you in your decision to leave and start your acting career—everyone, except him.

Loki wanted to leave the room. He should’ve left and not agreed to come and watch the show with the others. He was about to stand up when-

“Shh. Shh. Guys quiet down. Here she is!” Wanda said shushing the entire room.  Loki watched the enormous television, enraptured. The camera panned over to the audience, their loud applause and cheers were deafening. Signs and pictures were held up from a time when you were an Avenger. He couldn’t help but sink further into his chair and get caught up with your grace once again.

“So, Foxglove- can I still call you Foxglove?” The host asked as you sat down.

“Of course, you can,” you beamed at the man behind the desk.

“I- I don’t know the protocol for these things. Do you get to keep the name even though you’re not an Avenger anymore?”

Your practiced laugh showed through your gritted teeth. “It doesn’t work exactly like that. Foxglove is the name I gave myself. I had it with me when I started with the Avengers and took it with me when I left. It wasn’t a title or anything.”

“And did they just let you leave? I would think it was like being in the mafia. ‘You know too many of our secrets. We can’t let you out alive!’ sorta thing,” the host said, thinking he was being clever.

“My friends and colleagues have all been supportive. And I remain in close contact with most of them.”

‘Most of them.’ That statement swirled the emotions Loki was feeling inside. He was not one of those who supported you and was very vocal about it. The fact that you still keep in contact with almost everyone here left him envious.

“And that’s actually part of the reason why I’m here tonight,” you continued. “My dear friend Tony, whom many of you know as Ironman- again, not a title…” you chuckled. “…Is throwing his annual charity gala this spring. This year he decided to make it a month-long occasion with different charities and events happening once a week culminating in the yearly gala at the end of the month.”

“That’s wonderful! That’s all he does when he’s not out saving the world, is party, huh?” the host said looking straight into the camera.

“Asshole!” Tony sassed under his breath, earning a few chuckles from the team.

“And what exactly is your part in this month-long event?” The host asked you.

“Well, I plan to raise money for The Nature Conservancy here in New York. I ask everyone to come and help us plant new trees or donate. Every dollar will be matched, and we can help restore some of the forests, in other parts of the country.”

“The Nature Conservancy is a special organization for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s where I first worked. It’s where I first started noticing my powers.”

“Your powers are amazing! You can talk to plants!”

“Well, it’s a lot more complicated than that,” you said with restraint. “Chlorokinesis allows me to excel a plant’s growth to a thousand times what they normally can. I can also enhance their natural defenses and abilities. And like my namesake, Foxglove, I can give you hallucinations when touched.”

“Can we get a demonstration?” the host asked to the cheers of his audience. You reached out to touch him “No, no, no!” he said nervously. “I don’t need any more hallucinations right now!” you both chuckled. “Thank you. But maybe you can make a flower grow?” he suggested, and the audience cheered you on.

“Sure, of course,” you smiled, happily. You rotated your wrists and flicked them around, gesturing for a plant to grow from the host’s wooden desk. The branches wrapped around itself forming a steady trunk. Soon the branches grew out further and further. Blooming wisterias in varying colors began to sprout, amazing the audience.

You used to be unstoppable. You used to tear down enemies left and right, numbing them with your visions before you cut them down and made them regret opposing you. Now you do party tricks for the camera so you can get a laugh from people who don’t care about you. Who didn’t even love you! Loki was furious.

Once again, Loki made to get up. He was almost through the exit of the room when he heard the next question that made him stop.

“So, Foxglove, will you be attending these events alone?” The audience ‘ooh’d’ at the question when the host decided to get a little more personal. “I heard you were cozying up to a certain superhero. Do you like those types? Do you have a type? What does Foxglove look for in a partner?”

You laughed embarrassedly. “These rumors! I swear they pair me up with someone new each week.”

“Oh, but you were seen leaving a nightclub with your costar, Superman himself, Henry Cavil.” The photo was put up on the screen. A picture of the two of you laughing in front of a busy club as Henry gingerly put his arm around your shoulders. The entire room of Avengers whooped and hollered cheering you on.

“We were celebrating. We had just wrapped our movie and it was my first time in London. So, Henry just wanted to show me around. Very friendly. All platonic.” You smiled, blushing. Loki noted that blush. I’ll break him like a twig!

“Ok. Ok. What about your former colleague, Loki of Asgard?” The host asked as a picture of the two of you replaced the one on the screen.

It was a photo taken when the two of you had gotten back from a mission. You had failed and cried about it on the flight back. Loki was wiping the tears from your face, trying to cheer you up. You didn’t know the PR department was there taking shots as all of you disembarked off the jet.

The camera cut back to you and you blushed harder. Once again, Loki noted that blush. He let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding and swallowed. Does she miss me too?

“Loki and I have remained good friends. I look forward to seeing him again,” you told the host.

Lies. Not a single word was exchanged between the two of you since you left. The last words you said to him were “I hate you! I never want to see you again!” Loki couldn’t detect any falsehood when you screamed those words at him. That hurt the most.

Everyone turned to where Loki was standing. Some, like Thor, were smiling. Mostly everyone else was shocked.

“What?!” Loki snapped back at them, making everyone turn back to the television.

“Oh! Did you hear that? She wants to see him again.” The host embarrassed you. Your powers grew erratic as a new sprout of branches grew from the tree.

The whole audience was eating it up, clapping. You tried to hide behind your hand, but the different cameras provided different angles of your mortification.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Foxglove, everybody!” The host said pointing towards you clapping. You laughed and waved at the audience as Wisteria petals fell from the ceiling.

Weeks later, you sat in the back of a Maybach that Tony hired to chauffer you to the gala. This year it would be held at the compound which garnered more donations because everyone wanted to see inside the heavily guarded facility. Your intricate beaded dress fit you snuggly and covered you from shoulders to toe. It ensured that no one would accidentally come in contact with your skin. Especially with how crowded Tony’s parties got. The only wrinkle was from all the times you’ve grabbed it in anxiousness and wrung the fabric.

Why did I let Tony talk me into this?! I should’ve faked sick or something! What if Loki’s there? Of course, he’s there. Where else would he be? What if he doesn’t want to see me again? What if he has a date?! Maybe I should’ve invited Henry? No, no. He’d get the wrong idea. Just drop in, say your hellos, then leave. I don’t have to stay. I’m a grown adult. I can do what I want! FUCK! What if Loki comes and talks to me?

Once past the gates, the car crawled through a winding road with lanterns adorning the pathway. The car stopped at the front steps of the Avenger’s compound and you could hear the heavy bass of the music pounding through the car windows as bright lights and lasers littered the night sky.

You made your way through security to the massive, yet highly decorated, quinjet hangar and a sweeping staircase that descended to an impressive room below. You smiled, reminiscing about all the parties and events you attended as an Avenger- sweet memories that erased the worry you had when you were in the car. Picking up your gown, you gracefully descended the staircase. Keeping your eyes trained on the steps below, you tried not to look around, to look for him.

“Fox! I can’t believe you’re here!” Wanda shrieked as she ran up to you. She squeezed your sleeved arm and pressed her cheek on your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you, Wanda!” you said kissing the top of her hair.

“Come on. Everyone’s here- well, almost everyone,” she corrected herself. “We haven’t seen you in so long. Everyone wants to catch up.” She led you along to the bar where you were greeted by your former teammates. You were grateful that Loki wasn’t among them. He always loved these parties. You actively refused invites the past year just to avoid him. Awkward hugs and pleasantries were shared. Drinks were offered along with your first few dances promised to Sam and Wanda.

After hours of conversations with the team, and some drinks with Tony, you fell back into a sense of belonging and family. You didn’t realize how much you missed your friends here. How much you missed being an Avenger. It got so lonely most nights not having anyone to talk to. At least here, you would have had Nat or Bucky to train with in the middle of the night.

Or Loki to keep you company.

You groaned internally. You couldn’t help but be on edge all night, thinking about him and wondering if Loki was ever going to show up.

Before leaving for the night, you excused yourself to get some fresh air. There was a greenhouse in the back glades of the compound that you frequented most nights just to be alone. You used to make the hedges grow all around, giving you a private garden away from the rest of the world.

Inside, it was as if you had never left. The plants stood tall as if to greet you. Bright flowers bloomed in different colors as if in competition to win your adoration. And in the back corner, hidden behind large monstera plants, was a cove of plush blankets and chairs that you hid from anyone ever finding. Everyone except, “Loki?”

Loki sat in the rattan chair; his legs crossed reading a magazine with your picture on the cover. He looked as breathtaking as the first time you saw him, like trouble and a promise all wrapped up in his pressed monochromatic black suit. His mischievous smile appeared, tempting you closer.

“Hello, Foxglove,” he greeted you. His voice sending shivers down your spine. Fight or flight? Fight or flight? You kept repeating in your head.

“I…didn’t know this spot was taken. I won’t bother you. Goodnight,” you hastily said as you turned to leave.

“Wait!” he cried standing up. You could feel him grab hold of your wrist. You looked down to see his shadow holding on to you like a dear friend, shadow to skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. It’s been so hard to be intimate with anyone because of your body’s defense mechanism. And here was Loki, the only man who figured out a loophole to your little enigma.

“I just wanted to say…” Loki paused, staring only into your eyes. “Y-you look beautiful tonight.” You pulled your hand away from his shadow and stayed quiet. “I saw you. We… the team… saw you on the talk show. You’ve done amazing things this past year. One movie, a television show, countless endorsements.”

“Still don’t think I can make it?” you challenged.

“Fox, it was never about that!” he argued. His sudden outburst propelled him like a predator. He stalked his way closer to you, making you back into the glass wall of the greenhouse. You caught whiffs of his cologne mixed with the tropical scent of the flowers all around you. He stopped when he realized he had alarmed you. “I should not have advanced on you so quickly. I apologize.”

“It’s all right. Just habit, I guess.” You were always conscious of people touching you and getting too close. You never wanted to be the cause of their hallucinations. Loki felt relieved that he hadn’t scared you off. His shadow stood ahead of him, rubbing your arm with the back of his fingertips, trying to mollify your anxiousness.

Loki watched and waited as you settled. Jealousy festered in his body at the sight of his shadow being able to comfort you and he couldn’t. “You look… breathtaking, by the way.” He tried to soothe.

“You already said that,” you said curtly, blushing. Loki loved your blush. He loved getting under your skin and teasing you.

“Is your new lover here with you tonight? Got sick of the real superheroes, had to get yourself a pretend one?” he tried deflecting. Loki smirked looking through the glass and out to the party to see if he could spot Cavill.

“As I recall, you wanted nothing to do with me once I stepped foot out of your room,” you said quoting him from the last time you spoke. “So, it’s none of your business whether or not Henry and I are together.”

“But you are…together?” he asked. His stare was unwavering, demanding an answer to his desperate question.

“I don’t need this right now!” You were angry and speechless. He doesn’t have the right to question your life’s choices especially when he wanted no part of them in the first place.

You moved to get away from his shadow’s hold and out of the greenhouse. Loki followed you close. “Fox, please. Stop.”

“Why are you even here, Loki?” you called back, briskly walking towards the exit. “You knew this was- This was my spot. MY SPOT!” you yelled, turning abruptly towards him.

“Because I wanted a chance to talk to you in private! Without the cameras or the paparazzi. Without some life-or-death mission hanging over our heads. I needed to see your face again, without all these people trying to steal your attention away from me.” He stopped and watched you reach for the door to go outside. “I’m sorry, Vixen.”

Vixen.

Feelings you thought you had buried deep down inside of you started to resurface. All because of that name he used. The one he would whisper as he called for you in his arms late at night. The name he used when he made you laugh so hard the only way to stop you was to kiss you.

The one name he knew would stop you in your tracks… because it was the one name he used when he was about to touch you himself.

“I am sorry if I ever made you feel…”

“Unworthy? Incapable? Useless?!” you turned as you accused him.

“Unwanted,” he finished.

Real tears fell down your face now. Loki cupped your cheek and wiped it away with his thumb. You could feel the heat in his touch. The energy. You’ve felt it with his shadow, but there was always something electrifying and passionate when Loki touched you himself.

It was a luxury to feel this connection with someone. To feel the warmth from his fingers. The callouses in his palms. You imagined feeling his soft lips on you once again until you stopped yourself. It was a dangerous path to have such expectations right now. You opened your teary eyes to find Loki watching you.

His eyes darted around to your surroundings before he closed them and tried to focus back on you. “You are very much wanted, Vixen. I just couldn’t admit to myself how much I wanted you back then.”

He opened his eyes to yours. The swirl of emotion in them was breathtaking. It was then that you saw his true face for the first time. His emotions. His thoughts. He was stripped of his armor and his pretenses. You felt as if you two were the only thing that existed in that time and space. As if he were holding his life, right there cupped in between his hands.

Your heart pounded in your ears as he continued his confession. “I am a jealous god. You know this. I didn’t want to share you with anybody. I wanted to keep you to myself. To keep you from the world. I was afraid that you would tire of me like you did with being an Avenger. Cast me out after seeing what the world out there could offer you.”

Loki placed his forehead to yours, feeling your breath on his lips. He bared it all for you tonight. He admitted something you knew was difficult for him to confess.

But could it erase what he made you feel for wanting to follow your dreams? Horrible and selfish. Untalented. Unwanted.

“I love you.” Your eyes grew wide at his expression. “I loved you then. I’ve loved you since. I am still deeply in love with you. Even now, when you’re about to run away from me, my heart won’t let me forget you. I was afraid that I would have no place in the world that you were creating for yourself. So, for that, I am sorry.” You closed your eyes and lingered in his touch a while longer.

“I wanted to apologize. I never got a chance to see you again after our fight, and I regret that I never made amends to you. You had every right to follow your path. I shouldn’t have stopped you. I should’ve supported you.” His thumb caressed your cheeks back and forth. You always did have the softest skin, unblemished by anyone else’s touch, he thought.  “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything at all. And if you want to leave now, I won’t stop you. Never again. But I just needed you to know how I felt.”

Do you love him? You asked yourself as you looked into his variegated eyes. Did you spend every night thinking about him? Did you ignore the compound, and your friends, this past year just to avoid seeing him again? Afraid that he would have someone new in his life? Did you miss his voice when he says your name? His kisses? His touch?

“Yes,” you answered yourself. Loki’s brows knitted in confusion. “Loki, I understand now. Thank you… what I said to you back then, I was angry, but...” you tried to start.

Loki smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “We were both angry and said things we didn’t mean. Me more than you. Please don’t apologize. Least of all to me.” He exhaled as his eyes darted around again. You nodded your head, accepting his grace- forgiving you without having to apologize.

You looked up at his eyes, filled with wonder, “What do you see? When you touch me?” you asked gently. All this time you never thought to ask him.

“I see what I always see. Since the very first time I touched you. Do you remember?” You shook your head no. “They showed a picture of it on the talk show.” Realization sunk in. “I was wiping your tears just like now.”

Loki looked around again and smiled, putting his hands in his pockets. “I see home. I see the woods that used to grow behind the castle walls. Thor and I used to sneak out when we were children and climb the trees. The same woods we used as hunting grounds when we got older. Would you like to see it?”

No one had ever asked you that before.  No one had ever had the power to do that before! You nodded and faint green smoke rose from his fingers. Your vision got blurry as the greenhouse was replaced by a dense forest. The trees were tall and luscious. Strands of warm light filtered through the canopy above shining down on the emerald grass below.

“Come with me.” Loki held your hand as he walked further into the woods. Dead leaves and twigs crunched at your feet as a soft breeze blew through the lace of your dress giving you goosebumps. “There’s a glade up ahead where we can just lay on the grass. I used to spend my free time there, letting the hours idle away.” The thought made you smile.

Sure enough, a clearing began to form up ahead. Long, soft grass weaved itself as it grew amongst large wildflowers. The filtered light from the canopy above made the blooms shine like jewels on a bed of velvet.

“I have yet to see anywhere comparable to this place on Midgard,” Loki said circling the glade, a look of homesickness in his eyes. “That metropolis has nothing compared to the splendor of these woods.”

“It’s beautiful.” You said walking towards him. A path of small wildflowers blooming with every step you made.

“Thank you. It is beautiful. But still an illusion. We are still very much in the greenhouse by the compound. You’re just seeing what I’m seeing at the moment.” You reached out towards a tree and felt cold glass instead of bark.

“You see this every time you’ve touched me? Every time we’ve…”

“Hmm,” Loki nodded solemnly. “Sometimes it's these woods. Other times it's my bedchambers in the palace. Yet, every time I’m with you, I see this- my childhood home. I haven’t been back since you left.” Loki bent down and picked up a wildflower that had grown in your stride. “I try to conjure it myself, but it never feels the same. The colors aren’t as vibrant. Not as much warmth.” He placed the flower on your ear, pushing your stray hair back. His hands ventured further down, tracing the beads of your sleeves.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted.

“You’ve missed me? Or you’ve missed my powers and that they can bring you home?” you asked slightly jilted.

Loki looked deeply into your eyes as he turned you into his embrace. Your hands fell onto his arms and the look he gave you stole your breath away. “You are my home,” he confessed with a passion and honesty you’ve never heard from him before.  

He wasted no time. He gave you no warning as he conceded to his urges and kissed you fervidly. The soft lips you were fantasizing about earlier painted a poor picture of his actual kiss. Soft yet demanding. Giving, yet always ravenous. It was as if no time had passed between you two. You were back in his arms kissing him and it felt like he described it. Home.

“All I ever wanted was to have you here in my arms,” he breathed in between kisses. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling him back to you for another kiss. His arms wrapped selfishly around you, holding you tighter to him.

The heat was too much. It’s been so long since you’ve been held so intimately. But with Loki’s lips devoted to your neck, you would burn gladly. You would die happily on this pyre- as the last thing you would hear would be Loki moaning in your ears.

You were lost in his haze, caught up in the moment with the feel of his body against yours. He pushed you against the tree and you felt the cold glass of the greenhouse against your back.

Loki towered over you, “Tell me you want this,” he whispered onto your noxious skin. “Tell me you’ve missed this and want this with me.” He looked into your eyes, imploring something deep and vulnerable inside you.

“I do, Loki. I want this with you” You moaned holding tight against his grip. You felt his hands gather your dress skirt. Slowly his hands wandered, savoring the feel of your soft skin. His hallucinations were getting more and more vivid. Believable. Or perhaps it was just his kiss, sending you into slight delirium yourself.

Loki hurriedly took off his suit jacket and flung it across the room. He knelt in front of you, in between your parted legs as he raised your left knee above his shoulders- kissing his way up to your inner thighs. “Loki is this real?” you asked looking around you.

“Gods, I hope so,” he prayed, leaving a mark on your thigh. He kissed his way up to your core and licked you through the fabric of your panties. You heard the sheer cotton tear as his fingers brushed up against your eager clit.

Your fingers ran through his hair, pulling when he licked a wide stripe in between your folds. Your knees buckled at the sensation and soon you were reaching around yourself for something to hold. Something to keep you up as Loki lost himself in your wet arousal.

The cold glass of the greenhouse was replaced by the feeling of something warm and sturdy behind you. You looked up to see that Loki’s shadow had positioned himself to where his chest was flushed against your back- his dark hands roaming your body. His arms reached forward to hold your dress up above your waist, aiding Loki in his endeavors.

You felt a kiss on your neck, a quick peck as if he was asking for permission or giving you a warning. You yelped as his shadow quickly lifted you by your hips and Loki pushed both your knees up for his shadow to hold.

“Loki!”

“Yes, my love?” he asked as he continued to latch his mouth and draw on your aching cunt. Loki’s shadow spread your legs. You were splayed open and exposed. Leaving Loki to devote his tongue to you. You reached up and ran your hands through his shadow's hair, pulling as he sweetly kissed your neck.  

You couldn’t help the moans and loud whimpers escaping your lips. You bucked your hips onto Loki’s face as your head reared back onto his shadow’s shoulders.

“Come for me, Fox. Let me hear you,” he commanded as he continued his consumption of you. “Let me taste you again. Give me what I’ve been missing. What I’ve been craving.” He said the last words to your tormented clit. You shuddered violently as moans and whimpers of his name fell from your lips. “That’s it. There you go, Vixen,” he cooed as he drank your arousal and lapped around your thighs.

His shadow laid you down gently and you felt the plush pillows and cold blankets from the greenhouse corner underneath you. A warring sensation against the heat of Loki’s body pressed on top of you. A bit of reality mixed in with the illusion Loki was scarcely hanging on to.

His hands fondled your every curve and every soft line. You cupped his face and led him to your kiss. His soft lips quivered when you reached in between your bodies and stroked his clothed erection. So hard and so tight. He breathed a sigh of relief when you unzipped his pants and stroked him.

“Fuck,” he moaned. Your name followed next as he bucked his hips into your hand. “Vixen…tell me you’re mine,” he panted. He kissed you hard, not letting you reply, afraid of your answer. You lined him up next to your expecting cunt and pulled him inside you.

You bit your lip and moaned as the look of pure pleasure radiated through your face. “Tell me…” he tried again as he pushed his hips into you repeatedly.

“I love you, Loki,” you moaned. His eyebrows slanted skeptically, stilling his movements and letting your words sink into his thoughts. “I’ve always been yours.” You admitted.

His kiss was magic. It was passion and life. Remorse and reconciliation all at once. He began his movements again at a steady pace, savoring your tight walls around him. You could feel the ridges on his shaft with every euphoric pull and thrust. His head bowed at the sheer power of your declaration. “Say it again…” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you moaned.

“…say it…” he bit his lips. “…ag-again…please…” His eyes were closed as he focused on the agonizingly drawn-out movements of his hips to yours.

“I love you, Loki,” you cried as he slammed against you. You squeezed around him finally pushing him off that edge. Loosening the tight hold he had on his pleasure and pouring it all into you. The wave of bliss hit you hard and you came onto his throbbing cock at the same time.  

Spent and panting next to you, Loki held you close. His kisses were endless. Your cheeks and jaw would be bruised tomorrow from the affection he was showering you with. His hands were always touching you. Your neck, your face. Your thigh that was wrapped around his legs. You lost all track of time being with the god of mischief and soon the bright sunlight that trickled down to the forest floor was replaced by the harsh glare of the greenhouse overhead lamp.

Loki had little strength left to keep the illusion up any longer. He seemed weary but content. You kissed him fleetingly as you sat up back to reality. “Stay,” he said softly. “The one thing I didn’t say last time…I’m saying it now. Don’t go. Stay.” His hands held yours tightly.

So many feelings were attached to that one word. The weight of it crushing your heart. “I’m not asking you to give up your life. I’m not asking you to stay just for the night either. I’m asking for you to just be,” he smiled at you. “Be who you want to be and I will support you like I should have.”

You crawled back to him, settling your head on your propped-up elbows, while your other hands played with the buttons on his shirt. “And if I decide to go?”

“Then I’ll do the one thing I should’ve done last time but didn’t.” he smiled as you looked at him expectantly. “I’ll follow you.”

A/N: This was a request sent in and I'm sorry to say it took this long for me to finish it. I hope you like it my lovely @gruftiela. I tried to stick to the vibe of the song. But I also added lyrics from one of my other favorite Depeche Mode songs. See if you can spot it 😝.

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish

[btnclmrttn]

How they react if you send a spicy picture (OPM) (+18)

Under the assumption they have a phone imagine having to email a nude asdghdksvs

(bored and horny tbh I'll figure out the other three boys later 😭)

Saitama

💛"Wow, you have no idea what I'd do for some of that right now"💛

If he didn't turn so red in the face he could probably play it off in public if he were to open it. Has definitely cracked his screen on accident over the shock/initial embarrassment of hoping no one saw that.

Always a pleasant surprise when he's alone. He's probably bored anyway. One of the best cures he could have in those moments is "excitement". Exchanging texts and nudes gets him super jittery, and he loves the addictive anticipation.

Building up self confidence slowly, but is rather shy with returning the favor. He doesn't wanna be unfair and not send any at all, but they usually are just body shots, seldom face. Muscles like that though? It's hard to get a bad angle on a body like that

Like 2 saved in gallery max. Would just rather have the real deal, but the couple he keeps is because they're generally pleasant for him to look at. Huge sucker for panties/boxer shots. They don't have to be full nudes for him to get riled up. He can confidently return his own underwear shot as well! (fucking love me a dick print pic ughhh)

Genos

🩵"Oh you're perfect. I would love to see more of that angle"🩵

Around the public he doesn't show visible embarrassment, but he's very quick to pull up his phone. That could be the only obvious tell he's looking at something he doesn't want anyone else to see.

Full attention on you for sure if you managed to send at a time when he was alone. No matter where he is he's quick to respond, but much more detail and thought is put into responses when alone.

Always will return the favor. Has a couple of his own in his gallery if he was ever out and received one. It's only fair in his eyes! They're also never basic he makes an effort to look like the prettiest boy for you and he does a damn good job. Not only is the cyborg body cool, the way he takes pictures with angles and perspectives makes it much more sexy.

Yes he saves all of them it's taking up a huge space on his phone storage that's also photos of you in general. Doesn't really have an urge to get off to the photos or texts because it's never the same or as satisfactory, but he still likes to appreciate them because you're attractive. (Lemme throw in though that he would definitely love to get riled up to your voice/phone sex. He would end up hanging up and showing up shortly if he's over excited)

Garou

🖤"fuckkkkk just you wait till I get my hands on that"🖤

Around people he doesn't get super embarrassed, and couldn't care. Will try to keep his phone close and low key as he studies your body so no one else sees what's just for him. If it's around Bang he might have a fuss or a fumble.

Might take his time to respond, but he's definitely not ignoring you. He's taking that shit in every fine detail he can see like you're a work of art. The pauses between all his messages is just him drooling over you

He'll send back, but not the full deal. Garou can make more of a game out of the tease. Loves sending pics back of his dick print through his pants (usually sweatpants yessirrrr) to show you what you just did for him. Will progress to more skin, like his abs and hem of his boxers, until you get some real nice pictures~

He's got a couple few favorites that never fail to get him off. Any shot from an angle above you will be saved definitely. Although, he ends up not getting completely satisfied taking care of it himself with pictures/texts alone. It's a last resort kind of thing if he knows he can't see you. If he knows your wear abouts, he will just show up.

[evergreenalice]

I'll never get over the fucking tunnel of love scene, it's just the best fucking scene I love it so much

first of all, it follows the objectively amazing scene between Homura and Sayaka

the song "Dream World" begins to play as the Clara Dolls chant "fort, da, fort, da" in the background, the meaning of this I'm too lazy to explain, and if you don't know why the words "fort" and "da" are important to Rebellion, just look it up, there are better explanations than I can give. What's important is that these words relate to Homura and Madoka, the Clara Dolls are an extension of Homura, and thus Homura is presumably thinking about Madoka

as we see Sayaka's cape flying away from their confrontation, Homura begins a monologue

we see Clara Dolls dancing on a pink spool, representative of Madoka (if you don't know why, once again, I request that you look up "fort da Madoka") so once more an indication of where Homura's thoughts currently are

we see two swans, generally a symbol of love (fun fact, because of this one scene the moment I see swans I instantly think of Madoka Magica)

we see Homura standing on the front of of the boat, one of her familiars standing in the boat, not doing anything notable, I bring this up to come back to it later, also it's just a good shot

the world shifts as Homura moves through it, remember, this is essentially her dream, the things that appear are from Homura's mind

we see a paper Kyoko standing on an arch asking us if we're enjoying the movie (thank you for asking Kyoko :) Indeed I am)

a tunnel rises from the ocean

Kyoko says this, displaying essentially the ideal life for Kyoko, her relationship with Mami is never soured, and they're still friends, and they're just doing good stuff, none of the darkness that exists in reality

we see Homura's annoyed, perhaps somewhat conflicted even, face

we enter the tunnel, and it's clearly meant to be a tunnel of love, remember, the things in this world are created from her thoughts, there is a reason for a tunnel of love being here and it has to do with Homura's thoughts, EVERYTHING in this tunnel is from Homura's mind, it existing, everything in it, and where it leads, are from HER thoughts, keep that fact in mind

Mami just outright states that everything is ideal

beautiful shot, nothing else to say

Sayaka outright asks if this is so bad. She has a very goofy face because Homura is annoyed with her, I love this detail "YOU'RE TOO LATE SAYAKA I'VE ALREADY DEPICTED YOU AS THE SOYJACK!"

Homura accidentally criticizing herself, however, once again, EVERYTHING HERE IS HOMURA, this is an argument with herself, she's not disagreeing with paper Sayaka, paper Mami, and paper Kyoko, because they don't exist, they're HER, everything they say are HER thoughts, SHE thinks that this is the ideal world, deep down she wants to stay here, and she hates herself for it, viewing it as weakness.

we cut to Homura kneeling beneath goddess Madoka, Homura views Madoka as a goddess, not just in a descriptive sense, but a prescriptive one. In her eyes Madoka is a perfect being deserving of reverence, her love for Madoka is yes, romantic, but also has undeniably religious elements to it

Homura reaching up towards the statue of goddess Madoka as she talks about her sacrifice, it's just, VERY religious, she's over here like "Madoka died for your despair, accept her into your heart as your lord and savior" and it's like, Homura, this is a really unhealthy way to view your crush

this flashes on screen "who is dreaming?" the reason these runes pop on screen at this point is because it's important to this scene specifically, Homura is essentially denouncing whoever is guilty of being, for lack of a better word, a sinner, so these runes prompt the question of who the "sinner" is, and of course, it is Homura

we cut to a boat on fire

we see little paper cutouts of people drowning, presumably the people who should be being saved right now but aren't

Homura caresses Madoka's legs very heterosexually, I will come back to this later

the Clara Dolls throw tomatoes at the statue and Homura while saying "god is dead" in German, this most obviously signifies the blasphemy of the sinner who created this world (Homura) it's also a Nietzsche quote (Nietzsche and Rebellion is a whole nother conversation though)

it's also worth pointing out that the Clara Dolls's antagonism towards Homura is likely symbolic of bullying, which considering the way Moemura acts, is almost definitely something she went through

remember that everything here is from Homura's mind, that tunnel of love didn't even exist a moment ago, it was created by Homura's mind, that includes where it led, Homura's mind created a tunnel of love while thinking about Madoka that led her to Madoka

Madoka jumps down and lands on Homura, she doesn't emote much, but we know for a fact that this caused A LOT of emotions in her. Remember that familiar I pointed out that wasn't doing much? Well once again, everything in here is part of Homura, representing a part of her mind

as Madoka sits up, we see the familiar excitedly dancing with sparklers, because well, gay

as I said I wanted to come back to the statue's legs later, this is why. Where Homura touched it is marked in inky black. Her devotion to Madoka, her love for her, represented by the caressing of her legs, has only dirtied the statue. She views her love as a dirtying force. And for a lesbian that canonically went to Catholic school, views herself as a demon, and her crush as a pure perfect goddess, that certainly has implications, internalized homophobia is only one possible reading of this scene, but it's the one I choose to go with.

that's the end, I hope you enjoyed!

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

Finished Felvidek and had a grand time!

Thought I'd do a lil list of things/moments/details I loved off the top of my head:

gave cursed coffee bean to a chicken and it mutated. Did it for science

game's got some twin peaks vibes, some monty python, a tad of hylics, along it a bunch of other ingredients, but it feels very much its own thing with its own identity

pear man and his daughters deserve the world, wish we hung out more

there's a fight with an invisible enemy, all your attacks miss because your guys can't see shit and I was laughing just imagining Pavol and Matej swinging their swords at nothing hoping to slay the forest fiend. Very Don Quixote, I love it.

the PS1 style cutscenes are sooooo beautiful I love them to pieces, they drip with style and charm. I knew I needed to give this game a go the moment I watched the trailer and was greeted by the cinematics. God I love them so much. And not just the syle but the directing itself, the way shots are framed, god...

I love the character portraits for everyone. There's so much detail and everyone feels unique/like an actual person with distinct features. From the Priest's very punchable face, to Pavol's grin to Josef's sexy ass... From main characters to NPCs to enemy sprites, I love everyone's design and colour coding (don't know if it was intentional but the purple for the cultists was neat, seemed to subtly imply early on that they were being funded by rich folk, since pruple is associated with nobility, power and wealth)

speaking of character design, shout-out to this lil guy, look at him please

Numnut the drunkard my beloved, I recruited him and less than a minute later he fell on flat ground into a nearby river (and drowns???). I reloaded a previous save to see if I could have him in my party a lil longer. I took a different path, got into a fight. "yay I get to see him in action!"- I thought. I used his one special move, called: 'good idea', and Numnut proceeds to punch his own face, dealing 90 damage (not even in the endgame did I deal such high numbers!). THE Character of all time, he drowned again after that and I'll never forget him.

BALLOON IN THE MIDDLE AGES! (possible Andrei Rublev reference? I can dream...)

just, the way things are worded:

cutting people's ears after killing them as spoils (and giving the ears to a maiden, as you do)

there's a quest where you have to cut a man's tattooed buttock to give to another guy, and it's all for nothing, you ruined a man's ass for nothing. I love it. The dialogue during this whole section had me dying.

I love that there's just this guy who lives in the castle's well. And our boy Pavol thinks it's a great idea to throw a bomb in there to make him come out.

this:

there's these lil inisghtful and mournfoul comments on the dead bodies you leave behind. Like, expressing regret at all the senseless violence and death or how cheap life is here. And I'm not sure if it's Pavol or Matej making them. It makes more sense for it to be Matej but I kinda like the idea of it being Pavol's comments, these small moments of introspection and realization in the midst of a drunken adventure. You've been engaging in all the violence while pissed drunk but then after you kill your opponents and look at their corpses... and it's like this sobering moment, before you're back at it with all the merry-making (I also like that a lot of these bodies don't disappear and just remain on screen, and you can see the carnage your guys leave behind in their quest)

the whole adventure felt to me like, this series of odd little events in a knight's life before it's passed down, told by and retold by different people, and after many generations it's been touched up and made more coherent and noble than the clusterfuck it actually was. Before it became a narrative I guess is what I mean

it can get a bit wordy and hard to follow but I really like the old timey way the dialogue is written and its dry sense of humour

there's these little subversions of gaming tropes that I found really fun too! Like as soon as Pavol's wife and your falling out with her is introduced you may expect a reconciliation between the two, or a moment where you have to save her and prove your worth and love to her to win her heart. As you would expect from a story with a knight and a damsel. But no she hates his guts lmao tries to murder him too! (tho I do think Pavol took her in that balloon ride at the end). There's also the fact that I am not allowed to play minigames! Josef wants to play tabletop games but your character always replies no. No minigames for you son! And like, this feels especially catered to me as someone who, more often than not, will dread whenever a game will introduce some sort of card game or the like. I was so happy that wasn't forced on me for once! Couldn't believe it. Kinda felt bad for Josef tho, I'm sorry Pavol doesn't wanna play Pexeso wth you.

the battle animations! I'm particularly fond of the eating porridge one, or the chugging down a bucket of sour cream, and the petard

the little *slaps face* animation

Pavol and Matej as a duo and the whole tavern scene with the two exchanging clothes

the lil moments of humanity where Pavol talks about his broken life and sense of self

the rare moments when Pavol stops grinning

it goes without saying but the art is absolutely gorgeous. Its nostalgic monochrome melancholy speaks to me on a deep spiritual level. Inject it directly into my bone marrow please. Shout-out also to the ost, it fucks and has tons of bangers. The Hrad track, the one that plays on Josef's castle... god... love at first listen, and have been listening nonstop for the last few days now while going on walks.

[s-wave-entertainment]

Every fucking time I watch this God forsaken show something new comes into my mind and I'm so sorry if I've made this post before but because I don't remember you guys are gonna see it.

So like. The DDs came to Copper9 in accord with the Solver. Likely because, due to Cabin Fever Labs, it already had a presence on that planet and it knew it could consume it in it's little "universal conquest" thing it had its "heart" set on.

Then, it fucked with N, V, and J's memories to ensure there was no resistance to its demands (though they tried to recover the files anyway because idk something something automatic file recovery attempt and/or the Solver was still wiping memories and the gang just became vaguely conscious of it). You'd think that would be enough to ensure no resistance, but no, of course it had to take it one step farther.

Remember how N said they "never taught him how to land," and the whole thing about him not being sure about what the company would do with them afterwards? It was never guaranteed to them that if they succeeded, they'd return to the company for another job. The simple answer is because obviously they wouldn't, because A) Earth is Gone and B) they were never working for JCJ anyway. But if you wanna take it a step farther, maybe give them the benefit of the doubt, it's because the Solver?

Never had any plans to let them leave.

And I know, captain obvious over here; the DDs would overheat as soon as all WDs were dead, thus dying themselves and effectively taking themselves off the board. But there's more to it. Ever look at the ship's screen while N is mashing buttons in the pilot (I'm now wondering if through some vague sense of muscle memory he messed with the buttons because he knew he knew how to work them but he just couldn't recover it, but I'll save that for later)? In one shot, there's a brief line of dialogue that flashes over the right corner of the screen, basically reading "DAMAGE TO HULL://FATAL ERROR," but after that, another code flashes on the screen:

I assume the whole thing would have said "#511ERROR." What's a 511 error you ask? I didn't know either, but if I'm reading these screenshot right:

IT MEANS N WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO REPOSSESS CONTROL OF THE SHIP ANYWAY, AS THE SOLVER WENT AHEAD AND LOCKED THEM OUT.

SO YEAH!!! IT WAS ALWAYS THE PLAN TO MAKE SURE THEY DID THEIR JOB ON THAT PLANET AND DIED. THERE WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE ANY ESCAPE, THERE WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE ANY CHANCE OF SURVIVAL.

IF UZI DIDN'T MAKE SURE THE SOLVER WASN'T A PROBLEM ANYMORE, WITH GOD AS MY WITNESS, I WOULD HAVE-

[oh-no-its-bird]

Ok so trying to find my old alien stage x starwars crossover post bc someone asked to see it, but tumblr is acting up again and wont fucking let me find it, BUT I have it saved in my notesapp where I originally wrote it (get fucked tumblr) so were just gonna repost it here!

So yeah, no real context needed Alien Stage x Starwars crossover ft. Till bc he is my favorite.

(this was all written around round 5's release, if I remember correctly)

All I'm saying is that if Palpatine tried that "yes, strike me down, embrace the darkness, let it consume you . . ." shit on Till, Till would go *fuck you old man I'll take that bet* and beat him to death w no regrets then probably write a song about it later

Is your crush since childhood (presumed) dead?? Your childhood friend / rival of sorts confessed his love for you with a desperate, (unwanted) kiss then died at your feet to make sure you survived????

New therapy idea just dropped: beating an old man to death !! Reviews are in and they say it's HIGHLY effective !!!

Who would be funniest for Till to bludgeon to death w a guitar actually? Maul or Ventress are the most likley for him to not only just find out in the wild but in a situation where he can both actually interact w him without getting shot instantly by like, guards nearby and also be, yk, motivated to take that shot by them committing obvious crimes he may take issue with

Palpatine is the most obviously funny one and would solve a lot of problems.

I feel like Dooku would be the out of pocket one actually, a lot of fics leave him either alive or vuagley off screen when it comes to fucking shit up in clone wars era.

I want people to recognize Till actually. I want alien stage to be a morbid fascination for a good portion of the galaxy, maybe the usual do gooders like jedi can't interfere bc its technically legal in the specific corner of the galaxy its hosted in. Something something politics something something the senate doesn't want them to interfere idk. Its in the outer rim I don't think they touch things there all too much anyways

Anyways: Till beats Count Dooku to death with a guitar on live holo and the very first immediate reaction for a chunk of the galaxy is just. Is that. The pop star? I. Is that that one alien stage death game pop star???

Like imagine if you were just some guy living ur life and a pretty ugly looking war is looming overhead but you're doing your best to keep your head down, stay safe, all that. And then you go on twitter and everyone is posting videos of Hannah Montana beating Vladamir Putin to death live on stage with her microphone

And you're like "what the actual fuck" and your friend is like "does this mean the war is off now" and you don't KNOW but damn if all these new Hannah Montana edits everyone is dropping don't go hard as fuck

Till and Anakin would either get along concerningly well or fucking despise eachither. Like it's on sight.

Pick your poison! Is this fics obligatory "small silly reason why Anakin is too busy to be tempted into child murder by Palpatine";

A) he's an alien stage enthusiast and cant miss out on its live streams to meet w the old man sorry Palpatine

Or B) he's too busy programming little droids to start screaming every time Till opens his mouth to speak

"I don't know if Till would actually kill someone " / "Ok but Till is like just a dude. Not even a particularly strong or skilled one. He wouldn't last 2 seconds against a sith or literally anyone with actual training to fight."

Ok counter argument: it'd be funny. Now get back in the basement. I'm trying to cheer on my favorite space pop king as he beats an old man to death

fun scene where he sits in a cantina somewhere, clutching a drink as his own voice and Ivan's play over the radio as they sing Cure. His heart beating faster and faster in his ears till it hits the part where Ivan died and he just hunches in on himself, like if he curls tight enough he can shield the voices from reaching his ears.

He's so fucking depressed and visibly out of it in all the recent videos, I feel like he needs to find something to respark that rage. (Obligator *fuck I can't wait for Luka to try and get a rise out of him in the next round) maybe in this fic that spark is committing violence against the evil elderly who knows

Mmmmm Till sleep walking through the refugee camp, his eyes downcast and shoulders slumped and defeated as he blends in with the crowds of people who've escaped their own situations. Nothing special to see here, nothing special at all. His force presence is quiet and weighed down, hardly even visible if you aren't looking.

He's dissosiating like 80% of the time and that's what let's him get the jump on Dooku, who's probably there to poke at Obi-Wan and was NOT expecting the guitar to the back of his head.

Instant kill !!!! The clones are all pointing making pog faces everyone cheers the galaxy is saved etc. Etc.

[alicerosejensen]

Hey you might have seen my comment idk and if you didn't that's ok but I would really like a part 2 of the Zombie Movie with dad leon.

Well, to be honest, I didn’t plan the second part, but people wanted to and I wrote.

No warning. No injuries, no blood. Just dad and daughter having a good time together. Oh yes, there is a mention of "The last of us".

Part 1

Zombie movie. Pt 2

While you were cleaning up Leon's mess in the kitchen, he stood at the nursery door with a sinking heart. He knocked several times, but there was no answer, however, the sounds of a working game console could be heard from the other side.

Pulling the door handle, D/N did not even pay any attention to the visitor because with a frowning expression on her face she was busy with some kind of game from which she was distracted from time to time by answering messages on her phone.

Leon sat down next to her on the bed, well aware that his presence had not gone unnoticed. He watched the game without much enthusiasm, biting his cheek from the inside, looking at how his daughter shoots virtual zombies with a good result. It would be possible to omit the joke that the paternal genes played here, but Leon held his tongue until the moment of the zombie attack on the main character for whom D/N played. She fired three shots, but all in the chest, so the damage inflicted was not enough to kill the enemy. One bite and a game over.

"Shoot to the head"

D/N gave him an offended look and just loaded the last save.

In general, these zombies were different from those that were in real life. Yes, they bit, but instead of a decomposed body from which pieces of flesh fall, they had some appendages on their heads that looked like a walnut or a mushroom?.. in addition, they made strange clicking sounds.

"Strange zombies," Leon finally said, continuing to watch the gameplay "Why are they chirping?"

"This is not a zombie," D/N muttered more under her breath, making Leon realize that the conversation would not be easy, but he nodded his head in agreement. "Just infected people."

Leon sighed and put his hand on his daughter's shoulder, thereby forcing attention to himself. D/N exhaled irritably and paused the game.

"What?!"

"Pumpkin, I was wrong when I yelled at you," Leon confessed, pulling his daughter to him, but she refused to hug him, although when she was younger, she could never tear herself away from him. "I'll take you to this movie with your friend tomorrow... If you want, I'll buy you something with her in a cafe"

"Don't already," she muttered viciously, grabbing the phone. "I'll watch it later by subscription"

There was another awkward silence. Leon knew he shouldn't have flared up over the movie. After all, as you said, zombies don't come off the cinema screen, so his outburst of rage was just a sharp jolt due to fucking work.

"I understand that it's easier for you with your mom... I'm often not there for you when you need me, and sometimes I can miss birthdays, but I try, honey. I try to be the kind of father you deserve, despite the fact that I don't always succeed. When you were little, it wasn't so difficult for me, because we could catch up with books, games, walks."

D/N was silent with her legs tucked up to her chest, tapping her nails on the phone case. She still looked offended even though she listened to everything her father said to her. D/N was no longer small and understood that her father had a difficult job that required his constant presence, which is why he was often not at home, but this did not mean she was not offended.

Leon moved closer, pulling his daughter to him, hugging her shoulder. D/N did not protest.

"I've already canceled everything anyway." She said while continuing to knock on the phone. Leon sighed, resting his head on the top of her head.

"You know, we could go to this movie together, what do you think about it?" Leon looked at his daughter with a smile, waiting for her answer, hoping that his baby would say yes "I was in the Tall Oaks once, so I can even remotely say how plausible the director shot his picture"

D/N's eyes lit up with genuine interest when she heard that her father was in this town. Of course Leon was going to skip the part with the outbreak of the C virus and the death of the president. But his brain still remembers those moments when it was an ordinary beautiful small town.

"Come on!" Leon hooked her, seeing that he was able to arouse her interest, "you like this. Especially since mom assured me that the movie is not scary. Let's spend time together"

A slight smile appeared on her lips as she picked up the joystick and handed it to Leon.

"Do you want to play with me like when I was a kid?" She suggested it, and although Leon did not like the idea that he would even have to fight zombies (even virtual ones) at home, he still took the joystick and made himself comfortable on the bed. D/N even put a pillow under their backs with the image of her favorite character because you always spoiled her and bought such things.

"Okey" Leon's voice sounded uncertain, but he didn't refuse "So we're just running around a post-apocalyptic city and shooting zombies?"

"No!" snapped D/N. Her tone was already calm and harmless. "There's actually a plot here. Because of the disputes of fungi, an epidemic of cordyceps occurred. When people get infected with it, a fungus starts growing out of their heads that makes them aggressive and vicious. But they are still people. The main character must bring the girl" D/N pointed to the character who was standing next to the main character " To an organization called "fireflies" to make a vaccine since her immunity was developed after the bite. That's all. Take a joystick and play for Joel. Save ammo and use all resources wisely, and try not to miss".

Leon grinned when he heard a brief introduction to the game, and immediately began to understand the controls in the game.

"Fantastic."

Leon had been gone for an hour when you seriously worried about his long absence. After removing the fragments of a broken glass and a bottle of whiskey, you listened to the voices, but nothing was heard except the sounds of shooting and malicious laughter. Having decided to go upstairs, the last thing you could expect was that Leon would sit on the bed and play with D/N a recently purchased game that your daughter has been talking about tirelessly lately.

When you carefully grabbed the door handle and lowered it a little to look through the gap, you immediately saw how D/N was eating Snickers and Leon...

"Looks like you're having a good time," you smiled as they turned their heads to your voice.

Leon was comfortably ensconced in a nest made of pillows and a plaid, while D/N put her head on top of his head watching him try to pass the location using stealth. Leon, in principle, rarely played on a computer or a console due to lack of free time, but he was ready to buy the whole world for his daughter (Although more often he only paid for it). However, now, having stepped over his personal rejection of such games, he himself lies and plays a zombie game with his daughter in order to get closer to her again. You didn't mind and were even glad that he quickly found an approach to D/N, even through the game. To consolidate this result, you brought them hot drinks into the room, in a strict joking voice, telling them not to get too carried away and not forget about the time. But in fact, your child went to bed quite late. You didn't protest because she had Dad's permission!

You felt the embrace of Leon's arms around your waist late at night when he went to bed, snuggling up to you as close as possible.

"If you only knew how much I love you both..."

Just a nice declaration of love, but in the morning you had to leave the house because of urgent work, hoping to listen in the evening to how they spent time together watching a movie, despite the fact that you were afraid of Leon's reaction to zombies. He's dealing with this shit too much.

As a matter of fact, the worm of uncertainty really devoured him from the inside when he looked at the giant poster on the stand. These zombies in the background and a couple in love consisting of the main characters. Leon bit his cheek from the inside, repeating to himself that it was just a movie. Zombies are not real in it, and if the age of D/ N allows to watch this, then nothing should be scary. There's not even a horror genre listed there! so everything should be fine.

They took good seats, but Leon's posture indicated that he was in constant tension, ready at any moment to protect his only child. It was stupid, of course, but after so many years of fighting biological weapons, he couldn't do anything more with himself. And yet, after half an hour of watching the movie, Leon realized that zombies are mostly just mentioned here. But yes, they flash from time to time, but they obviously spared money for extras, Leon even figured to himself that the film would most likely be a failure, but for teenagers it would be the very thing. He even got bored, which can not be said about D/N, she was clearly delighted.

Of course, there was a moment when the cameraman allegedly filmed a report from the scene of the event and a zombie popped up on the screen, forcing the young part of the audience to flinch from the abrupt moment, but Leon's reflexes immediately reacted to protect D/N, which is why she looked at him strangely but did not react in any way.

In general, for the most part, the film was full of shit with cheap special effects and disgusting acting. But Leon did not condemn, if his daughter liked it, then to hell with him. In the end, later they went to a cafe where she did nothing but chatter incessantly about what a handsome protagonist. He did not regret the time spent because his baby was happy and did not argue with him anymore. D/N didn't even pull out her phone once, but she hugged her father on the way home and everything melted inside Leon when he hugged her back.

"Dad?" she called softly, still hugging him, and Leon gently looked into her eyes, "I'm sorry for what I said last evening... I didn't really think so.

"It's okay, baby," Leon patted her on the back, making it clear that he wasn't angry, "I also got angry in vain, but everything is fine. I guess I forgot that you won't always be the little girl who sleeps with a teddy bear and watches cartoons"

D/N laughed at his words while walking with him back to the car.

"Aren't you mad at me?" She asked uncertainly, raising her head and looking at him, waiting for an answer. Leon just shook his head kissing the top of her head.

"I love you and mom too much, so I don't get angry for a long time" She calmed down by smiling at him with her innocent smile when Leon opened the car door for her. "Sometimes I forget that you're growing up"

Leon sighed when he realized his baby's interests were changing and it was completely normal. D/N will not always be a child and one day she may even bring her boyfriend to the house to introduce him to her family, but for now Leon will prefer to buy her and himself ice cream and not think about the rapid maturation of the only daughter.

Even if it's unavoidable.

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Chapter 6 : Liar, Liar

Plot: A surprise return makes y/n question her relationship with Kylian.

Word Count: 1902

A/N: In celebration of Kyky's birthday, here's an update xxx

Chapter 5 Masterlist

Y/n's phone began to buzz loudly on her desk; she sighed and rose from her desk, a small smile gracing her face at the sight of her brother's name. Taking the phone, she headed out of her office, deciding she was in need of some fresh air anyway.

"Hey, James." she smiled, answering the call.

"Hey, y/n. You busy?"

"I'm at work but I'm owed a break anyway. Speaking of, shouldn't you be working?"

"The kids are on lunch, so I thought I'd see my little sis' is doing."

Her brother, James, was a primary school teacher back in the UK. He was two years older than her and growing up, the pair had been incredibly close. Nowadays, they didn't get the chance to talk as much, between their two busy jobs and their entirely separate lives in different countries.

"I'm good."

"Still having a hard time at work?"

As she strolled down the corridor, she sighed, "Well, the lack of headlines says not. It's calmed down a little."

"Good, you deserve a rest."

"Well, I'll have time for a rest when the transfer window closes. Until then I'll just have to suck it up."

As she strolled past Luis' office, the coach's door swung open. James continued to chat, "With the wage you're on, they're not paying you to relax." he chuckled but y/n had stopped listening to a word he was saying. From Enrique's office, not only did the coach emerge but so did Kylian. Her heart stopped.

It had been two weeks since their evening togehter as well as two weeks since she'd seen him at all. By the time her alarm had gone off- 5am- he'd slipped out, every trace of him gone, save a large, white hoodie he'd left on her bathroom floor.

Sure, she'd enjoyed the night with him; he was handsome, and good in bed, and he'd held her in his arms as they fell asleep, and it'd made her feel safe and loved and... She didn't care that he'd left in the night or that he hadn't called after that. It had been a one night thing, they'd both known that. He was leaving PSG, so what was the harm?

It was just a goodbye fuck, knowing they'd probably never see each other again. An acceptance of their attractions and their urges, admitting them to one another before he faded into TV screens and perfume adverts. So why was he here now?

"James, I've gotta go, I'll call you later though, alright?"

She didn't wait for a response before she hung up.

"Y/n, just the woman I was looking for!" Enrique grinned.

She turned around, her eyes fixed on Luis, stringently avoiding acknowledging Kylian's presence. She forced a smile, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yes, Kylian and I finalised his contract yesterday. Elizabeth is bringing a file containing the details over to you. I need you to draft a press release about his return ASAP."

She faltered, "Kylian's coming back?"

The footballer cleared, his throat, "Yes, I am."

She shot him a glare before looking back at Luis, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I am doing."

"Okay, but some advance notice would have been nice, given that it involves my department."

"Well, this is your advance notice, so I'd appreciate it if you'd have the statement drafted and sent over to me within the hour."

With that, Luis nodded firmly and marched off; Kylian's feet were glued to the ground beneath him and he gawped at her like a goldfish. Her scowl deepened and she hesitated momentarily, as though she was going to say something. Then she spun around, her hair whipping after her, and stormed off.

Two or three days had passed since Kylian had appeared at the training centre and y/n hadn't seen the man since. Much to her dismay, she'd had to schedule in and would have to attend a press conference regarding Kylian's reintegration, which she'd announced on social media earlier that day. Now, her chances of avoiding the man in question were significantly decreased.

Sporting black suit trousers and a long-sleeved bodysuit, she walked into the press conference room. She lingered at the back for a few seconds, arms folded over her chest, holding a stack of files tightly as she surveyed the room. Tens if not hundreds of journalists sat on the rows of chairs in front of her. There was a loud hum of chatter as expectant glances were cast at the panel in front of them.

She slipped back outside and headed for the room Luis waited in. As she stepped in, she was met by the sight of not only Luis but Kylian and his father.

She smiled tightly, "Good morning."

"Miss y/l/n, good to see you."

"Sorry, I'm late. I was just running a little behind schedule, but here are some cards for you to read from." she rushed over to Luis and handed him a stack of prewritten cards. She spun around to the player who watched her carefully, "Kylian." she spat, placing the cards in his hand.

Her skin brushed his, he was close enough that she could smell his unforgettable scent. His warm, soft skin on hers took her back to that night. All of a sudden, it was like his hands were all over her again, squeezing, exploring, rubbing. She could hear his voice, calling out her name, singing her praises. She could feel his hands on her tits as he pressed kisses up her neck, on her lips, her cheeks, anywhere he could. They were tangled in his soft sheets, her legs wrapped like a vice around his waist as he held her so easily, like she weighed nothing more than a feather.

"Y/n."

He'd cried out, chanting her name like a prayer. But no, he really was speaking now. He said her name, his thumb grazing her palm as she handed over the cards. He spoke quietly, almost whispering her name.

She cast him a fleeting, strange glance before turning back to Luis, "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded and she headed out into the wilderness, where the pack of reporters were gathered. At the sight of the doors opening, they all began to clamour before seeing it was only y/n.

She stepped up to the panel and spoke into one of the microphones, "Bonjour à tous et merci d'être venus. Il y aura une section pour les questions à la fin. Et maintenant, Luis et Kylian."

Cameras began to flash as everyone turned to the door she'd emerged from. She stepped down from the raised panel and stood to the side of the room. As the footballer and his coach took their place before all of the cameras, Kylian's father came up beside her.

She glanced up at him and offered him a small, polite smile, before turning her gaze back to the press conference which was starting. Luis began speaking, though she didn't understand a word of his Spanish.

"So, you're the one who's been sabotaging my son's career?"

He was so nonchalant she wasn't even sure he'd spoken or if it was just a creation of her imagination. She glanced up at him but he just stared straight ahead.

Hesitantly, she replied, "Sorry?"

"You're the one who has been dragging my son's name through the mud?"

"Usually I go by y/n."

"Oh, I know. I've heard all about you, y/n."

"Right." she pursed her lips, "Well, it's all worked out just fine, hasn't it?" she shrugged, nodding her head in the direction of the press conference.

“Hmm, for you.”

She drew back, looking up at the much taller man, “What’s that supposed to mean? I gave him every chance to leave, you are aware that PR doesn’t encompass transfers or contracts. I just broadcast what I’m told.”

“Y/n, I know what is best for my sons and I won’t have anyone getting in the middle of that.”

She frowned, what the hell did that mean? Before she could question his ambiguous statement, there was a flurry of excited voices and her head snapped back to the conference at hand.

Kylian nodded to a journalist, who stood up, "Kylian, pourquoi avez-vous pris la décision de rester à Paris?" Kylian, why have you made the decision to stay in Paris?

"Paris est l'endroit où j'ai grandi. Je tiens à cette équipe, c'est ma famille et je veux le meilleur pour eux." Paris is where I grew up. I care about this team, they are my family and I want the very best for them.

"Mais vous allez devoir quitter cette équipe à un moment donné. Pourquoi pas maintenant?" But you are going to have to leave this team at some point. Why not now?

Maybe y/n was going insane but she swore Kylian glanced at her before he spoke. Surely not. He hadn't called her. He didn't care about her more than her body. Of course, he was probably just looking at his father. But she just felt his gaze deep within her, like the ground beneath her was shaking.

"Je n'ai pas l'impression d'avoir terminé mon travail ici et j'espère encore accomplir davantage" he paused before adding, "avec mon équipe." I don't feel like I have finished my work here and there is still more I hope to achieve... with my team.

A few more questions were asked before the conference ended and they returned to the room next door. Y/n began to regather her files, "That was good, guys." she declared, offering a half-hearted smile, "I hope this puts it all to bed once and for all."

She nodded firmly before starting for the door; she headed out into the quiet corridor and let out a breath she wasn't even aware she'd been holding. It was like stepping out into fresh air, just being out of a room with him. His presence made her sweat and forget how to breath or think or speak.

"Y/n!"

And she couldn't breath again, and the temperature was rising, and she almost tripped over her own feet at the sound of his voice.

She snapped around, "What?"

"Wait."

She blinked at him and when he said nothing more, frowned, "Well?"

"Are you upset with me?"

"Of course not." she spat, sarcasm thick on her tongue.

"What did I do?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to leave again, "Just forget it."

"Y/n!" he yelled. When her pace didn't falter, he chased after her, catching up easily. He caught her arm and a flush immediately raced across her cheeks at the contact, "Y/n! Stop! Is this because I didn't call you after that night?"

"Forget it." she annunciated, still marching on.

"No, not if you're just gonna ignore me!"

She laughed bitterly, "That's rich."

"So it is because I didn't call?"

She spun around so abruptly that he almost crashed into her. "No, it's because you told me you were leaving! I wouldn't have fucked you had I known we were still going to have to work together! I'm mad at you because you lied to me!"

He didn't have time to reply as a door behind them opened and they both swiftly fell silent. Luis and Wilifried both walked out into the corridor, too deep in friendly conversation to notice the heated moment between y/n and Kylian.

She raked her eyes up and down him then quickly disappeared.

Masterlist

[muddyorbsblr]

not a fever

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You're quarantined in the laboratory with James Conrad as you try to determine what the effects of the pollen he was exposed to are.

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, i better not see you here if you know what's good for you); sex pollen; p in v

Things to be aware of: reader's a bit insecure; snarky tension between reader & Conrad

"Is this truly necessary? This is an allergic reaction to the pollen, which can be rectified with a quick shot of antihistamines, rehydration, and bed rest. You're overreacting, Y/L/N."

You smirked at the tracker's impatience. "Right. You know what you're absolutely one hundred percent right. How could I be so silly, Doctor Conrad. It's just some foreign flora that we encountered in an island that contained giant lizard creatures and a baby gorilla the size of half a skyscraper after all. But you're right. This is probably just an allergic reaction."

He winced as you pulled the needle from his arm, though you couldn't tell if it was from the slight sting that always came with blood extraction or if it was from your sarcasm-laden retort.

"There's a water in the cooler back there," you said dismissively, already starting on running the mass spec to process his blood. "Sleeping quarters are at the end of the hall."

"Y/N--"

"If this is really just allergies I'll administer the antihistamines myself. Until then, hydration and bed rest, right? So go. I'll let you know as soon as I get the results back."

You froze at the feel of his hand around your arm, suddenly quite aware of the warmth from his body's proximity to yours. "I'm sorry. Please, I don't like it when--"

"Look you could still be right, so save your apology for later. Just rest and let me run these tests so we can get back out there already. Okay?"

The only thing you heard was a sigh and his footsteps exiting the lab, the silence finally allowing you to let yourself release the tension that had you wound up over the last ten minutes. You strictly forbade yourself to let your guard down around James Conrad. You were convinced that the man was so arrogantly aware of how attractive he was that before he'd joined in these crusades with Monarch, you were sure that he could just snap his fingers and the nearest woman would strip on the spot for him.

You were even more convinced that if you ever let him close to you, he wouldn't even need to snap his fingers.

And now you were secluded with him in the laboratory area of the ship, being the sorry scientist that drew the short end of the stick to quarantine with him while you confirmed that the pollen that was dusted all over his face when he was assisting in the unloading of the samples your team had collected was not going to cause the world's next plague.

"Stupid James Conrad volunteering to unload the crates just so he could flex his biceps around Miss Pretty and Perfect Photographer Mason Weaver," you grumbled as you watched the screen begin to load with the component breakdown of the organic material that began to spread through the tracker's bloodstream.

The sound of the walkie-talkie crackling at your desk broke you out of your mass spec trance.

"Y/L/N?? Are you there??"

You picked up the crackling device. "What's up, Marlow? You got anything from those Iwi legends about this flower that dusted Conrad? Did we accidentally start the new plague?" Are we gonna die? you wanted to ask.

"I found something in the journals I had that looks like the flower, and the good news is that no. You're not going to die being exposed to him." His wording made a pit form in your stomach. "The bad news is that if you don't find a way to counteract the effects of the pollen he might die."

You felt your blood go cold at the new information. "Wh--What? Why? How?" Your questions came out muted, as if your voice couldn't even manage to form the questions. Of course it couldn't. It refused to.

"The pollen…it builds off of the person's desire," Marlow explained. "It builds and builds in a fever until they burn. Or until the desire is sated."

Your mouth felt dry. "So sex."

"Remember what I said, Y/N. It builds off of their existing desire. Whoever it is that he thinks of when he's alone at night, that's who can save him from this."

Someone may as well have laid your head on a guillotine and let the blade come down. "Is Weaver there?"

"What is it, Y/N?" the woman's voice rang clear despite the crackling nature of the device. Great, even technology bent for this woman. "Is there anything we can bring over to help you two? Ice bags? Water?"

"Condoms?" you heard Brooks holler from the background.

"Brooks, not now," the photographer scolded.

"We'll be needing you to come over to the lab, Miss Weaver." You did your best to sound formal and not as bitter as you felt. Of course it would be her. Those two looked like a couple of dolls turned human, they even looked like a couple, so she was the obvious choice. "To resolve Mister Conrad's…situation."

Her melodic laughter floated around your lab, furthering your irrational dislike toward the woman. "Trust me when I say this, Y/N. It's not me. He's my friend, practically my brother. And last I checked he likes them brainy. Like…mega brainy."

"Please just make your way to the laboratory as soon as you can. His life could be at stake." Your words were now clipped, your entire system in complete disbelief that she could be so flippant about this.

She huffed from her end. "Fine. I'm on my way. But only to tell you I told you so. Now, you should probably check on him and make sure he's not burning up."

That had you moving down the hall to the sleeping quarters faster than you cared to admit. When you got close to the door, your legs began to move faster at the sound of pained groans coming from where he was supposed to be taking a nap.

"Conrad? Are you okay in there?"

The only response was more groaning, prompting you to quickly open the door and walk into the small room. The sight that greeted you as you walked in had you frozen where you stood, as he stood facing the wall, shirt discarded and well-defined sweaty back muscles on full display, hands on the back of his head as he pressed his forehead to the cool wall.

"Are we contagious?" he asked you, terse and peppered with his signature brand of impatience that had you wanting to either smack him across his mouth or kiss him so he'd shut up.

"We're not. Marlow consulted the Iwi legends. It's only affecting you. The pollen was made to make the subject--"

"Feral? Rabid? Overcome with the desire to fuck?"

Dammit why were his words making you hot all of a sudden, too? Damn that stupidly perfect voice.

"I wouldn't put it that way, but yeah. Legend says that since it builds off of your desire, you have to be with…well, someone you desire."

"And if I don't I die?"

"The fever will burn you alive from the inside out, yes."

He scoffed at your answer. "So I'm going to die from desperation and licentiousness. I'd have rather died on the island. Arrrrgh!" He turned around and pressed his back to the wall this time, letting out an obscene sounding moan in relief.

"I already called Weaver she's on her way here--" you said at the same time as he breathed out "You need to get out of here."

He scoffed once again, keeping his eyes closed as he had them turned upward toward the ceiling. "You clueless girl, I don't desire Mason. Now please, darling, you need to leave this room. I won't have you see me like this."

Your eyes defiantly flickered downward at his words and you nearly bit a hole through your cheek as you caught sight of the bulging erection straining against the zipper of his pants, the sound of the velcro of the fly slowly opening from the force echoing around the room that was getting smaller as the moments ticked on.

"Hey, what kind of person would I be if I just left you here to die alone? Don't worry about me. Besides, I'm safe," you babbled, chuckling nervously toward the end.

The dark chuckle that escaped him made you painfully more aware of the wetness pooling between your legs. "And how exactly are you safe in this small room, with me? In this state? I could break you, little one."

Your nostrils flared at his go-to insult. "Ah, but you won't. Because I'm not your type." Those words made his eyes snap open, looking at you with a ferocity that had the rest of your words stopping at the back of your throat in a lame squeak, all thoughts in your head dying on the spot as you saw that his eyes were nearly black from how blown out his pupils were.

You tried your best to mask the bitterness in your tone as you said the words, too. Why was it that it was this man, of all the people on this mission, that you ended up getting unbearably attracted to? And why was it that he had to be a full asshole and still you couldn't shake your unrelenting desire for him?

His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked at you, an almost tenderness in the blacked out orbs taking you by surprise. "You truly believe that?" You gave him a look as if to say 'duh', which made him hit the back of his head against the wall lightly. "You beautiful, naive woman," he nearly growled before stalking toward you, grabbing you by the back of your head and pulling you into a heated kiss.

It felt like a wildfire had caught and spread throughout your body, down to the tips of your fingers as he held you close to him, his lips moving frantically against yours, as if he couldn't get enough. You placed your hands on his chest, trying to break the kiss, but all you could do was sigh against his lips as he wrapped an arm around you and lifted you easily off the ground, pushing you against the closed door. "C-Conrad," you gasped as his lips moved to your neck, his attentions sure to leave a mark. "This won't help you, Conrad. Please, just wait a few more minutes, Mason's on her way—"

"She will be no help, because it's you that I desire," he moaned against your skin, his hand deftly undoing the button and pulling down the zipper of your shorts. "You can tell me to stop. If you don't want this you can--"

"And what, let you die? Yeah no that's not gonna be on me," you huffed out. "Besides, I want this, too."

The only response from him was a sound between a grunt and a growl as he lifted you from the wall and laid you down on the small single size mattress at the corner of the room. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." His words came out rushed as he removed the shorts and panties from your legs in gentle tugs.

"Let's talk later when you're not dying from island pollen, okay?" He only gave you a little smirk as he unzipped the fly of his pants, only hearing the sound of his pants being pushed down this endless legs as he pressed heated kisses up your inner thighs.

A loud moan escaped you as you felt his feverish lips press a kiss to your folds, his tongue darting out and briefly licking into your entrance before kissing his way up your clothed body. You let out a whimpered moan of his name as he lined himself up to your entrance and pushed his way in with hurried thrusts, a fullness overtaking you followed by a mix of pleasure and pain as you began to feel the stretch of your walls to accommodate his size.

"F-Fuck, little one, you're p-perfect," he stuttered. "Even b-better than I dreamed."

Your thoughts were a haze, too lost in the feel of him mercilessly thrusting into you, like he was impatient to finally finish off the effects of the exotic pollen coursing through him. As impatient as he was in all things. But those words. Those words somehow burrowed into you more and more with every snap of his hips against yours.

He dreamt of this, too?

When his movements became staggered he reached a hand in between you to where your bodies were joined, his fingers starting to rub tight circles on your clit and making you jerk your hips even harder against his. "Conrad--!"

"Come with me, darling," he grunted before pressing his lips to your neck and rocking his hips even faster into yours, pushing you both over the edge. You felt your whole body quivering as your walls clenched and fluttered around him, flooding you with his own release.

You felt his movements slow, become more measured. Tender, even. Your heart began to constrict in your chest as he proceeded to press his lips to your temple and your cheek as you came down from your high, your chest still heaving as you still struggled to breathe properly after he'd taken you so frantically. Parts of your mind were already beginning to question if any of it was even real despite the startling realization that he was still inside you.

And still hard.

"Is your fever gone?" you breathed out, small whimpers escaping you as he worked his hand under your shirt and cupped your breast, his thumb rubbing at your nipple in slow, teasing circles while he trailed his kisses back to your mouth, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

"It is. Though I can't say quite the same for my desire." You moaned into his mouth as he slowly began to move inside you again. "I don't think that would go away for a long while."

A/N: Would you look at that, I finally wrote sex pollen smut 🥴🫡 Also just to be sure we're all on the same page with this, she thinks "little one" is an insult, meanwhile he actually calls her that affectionately. Because she's smol and he just wants to protect her 🥹💖

'everything' taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @devilsadvocactus @lokiprompts @sititran @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @creationsbyme @coldnique @athalialaufeyson @simplyholl @tallseaweed @sarahscribbles @unlucky-number-13 @ozymdias @maple-seed @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfsmom1 @km-ffluv @psychospore @loopsisloops @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovelysizzlingbluebird

[wonillaa]

save me — heeseung one shot

summary . the first time you see your boyfriend in weeks is by facetime call of him sick and asleep on the floor. his members call you for help. genre . fluff!!!!

heeseung x fem reader (girlfriend and she/her pronouns used!)

notes . realizing i don’t post as much solo content for the hyung line oopsie i will work on that hehe thank for the request anon!!

deep down heeseung knew he was making the wrong decision, his brain feels like it's on fire, his everything feels like it's on fire. he also knows the members have noticed his suffering, still he just purses his lips and looks the other way.

you've been on enhypen dorm ban for the past two weeks due to their heavy focus on comeback preparations. they've been so busy you haven't seen heeseungs face in you don't even know how long. at the same time you've been busy with your own work, getting home two hours later than usual and finally starting dinner. then a facetime call from jay. you look down at your pajamas and sigh, propping the phone up and accepting the call.

"yn, please look at this mess." a sleeping heeseung in their practice room fills your screen. "that's my mess," you frown in endearment, "what'd you do to him?" he scoffs and puts the phone up close to his face. only then you notice his droopy eyes, tired face, snot above his lip- "oh god"

"yeah that's what i said. you're off dorm ban now so please come resurrect this man." you look back at your pot of water that just started to boil and weighed your options. help your dying boyfriend or have your long awaited dinner... "i'll come get him. will he even wake up?" a new foot comes into the frame and nudges him a little, heeseungs eyes open slowly as he looks straight at the camera. "why are you filming me- shoo." he says sleepily and rolls over, sighing when his hot face is cooled by the floor. "i'm not filming you, your girlfriends on the phone." jay rolls his eyes and puts you up to heeseungs face for him to see.

"my girlfriend," he smiles and takes his phone, pushing him and niki away. "hi baby, how are you?" you shake your head in disbelief. "hi. you look like death so i'm not doing too well." you turn your stove off and walk to your room to change. "that's so nice of you to say, you look really good in your stained t-shirt honey." he smirks and flips onto his other side to cool his other cheek. "i'll leave you to suffer on that floor." you frown and he sighs. "i'm not suffering, don't listen to jay he's just being a mother-" he swallows his words at your tilted head and raised eyebrows.

"ok, how about i finish this practice and i'll definitely go home and take some medicine." he bats his eyelashes as best as he can. "your eyes are crusty it isn't working on me, just let me come take care of you." you beg. "come onnn i promise i'm ok baby, we need to get this choreography down." he sits up and blinks to make his vision less fuzzy. "i'm putting my foot down heeseung, you are sick please get some rest," jungwon points at him and puts his head into the camera. "please yn help me!" he puts his hands together and begs you. "you're making her think i'm dying! really, i'm fine." he attempts to stand up and tumbles into jungwon.

-

the whole way back to his bed he complained about how he just misstepped and it was unlucky timing. you laid him down and felt his forehead. "you're burning up! how do you feel?" you frown and pull his hair from his sweaty forehead. "...not good” he covers his face with his hands and groans. “it’s not a crime to tell me you feel sick baby” you say softly. “can i get you anything?” he bats his crusty eyelashes at you once again, “cuddle me to health pretty please.” you motion for him to move over, only for him to shake his head. “i was kidding, i can’t get you sick.” you sigh. “everyone knows loves ones don’t count, now scooch.”

you lay next to him and he turns to his side facing away from you. “come on honey, spoon me.” smirking to himself in victory. you roll your eyes at his complete 180 in attitude and lean in to hug him. “thank you for taking care of me, i love you” he whispers as he falls in and out of sleep. “i love you too sweaty.” “hey…you can’t be mean to me, i’m sick.” he says before throwing his leg over yours.

[euovennia]

widow | CH. II

pairing: soap x fem!reader

a/n: i decided to change up the bar scene at the end of the game because this is my story and i'll do as i please. regardless, the boys are finally here, woo!!! there'll be more interactions between them all next chapter (that's probably gonna be the majority of it tbh) but please enjoy this semi-awkward meeting for now <3

friendly reminder that this work is written with a fem!reader in mind, but with no specified features

PROLOGUE, CH. I, CH. III, CH. IV

Four Years Later

It had been just a few short hours after Ghost had saved Soap from what would have otherwise been a certain death by the hands of Hassan Zyani. The past few weeks were nothing short of grueling but as Ghost, Soap, and Gaz all made their way through the bustling streets of Chicago to meet Price and Laswell at a local dive bar, they couldn’t help but want to give themselves a little pat on the back for a job well done. As well as it could have gone at least, there was still the issue of Grave’s death and Shepherd's betrayal on Los Vaqueros and the 141. Perhaps that would be their next mission.

Finally approaching the dingy bar, the three men began filing inside the bar as they each made a beeline over to Price and Laswell who seemed to be having a rather serious conversation if the looks on their faces were anything to go by. Upon seeing the team approach however, Price simply gave them a small nod before taking a swig of this drink. The boys take their seats before each ordering a drink of their choice. With everyone now settled in, Laswell decides to speak.

“You boys did your job and you did it well. Congratulations,” She raises her glass and the four men follow in succession, a sense of pride and accomplishment lingering in the air. The group sits in silence for a few moments before Gaz breaks it.

“So what now?”

“We find Shepherd,” Price announces firmly.

Laswell sighs, “That’s not what we agreed on.”

Price looks at her out of the corner of his eye, “We never agreed on anything, Laswell.”

“We’ve got bigger issues than just finding Shepherd.”

“I reckon that’s the reason you’ve got other teams then,” He lamely states as he takes another sip of his drink.

“Trust me, this is something you’ll want to be involved in,” She says before reaching inside her jacket pocket and pulling out a photo. She plants it face down on the bar counter before sliding it over to Price.

He stares at the photo for a few seconds before taking the photo in his hands and flipping it over. He sucks in a sharp breath upon seeing the familiar dark-haired man. Lips pressed into a thin line, he passes the photo over to Gaz. He studies the photo for a few moments before his eyes flicker up to Price's tense frame. Not wanting to ask quite yet, he hands it over to Soap who tilts his head in confusion upon holding it in his hands. Finally, he gives it to Ghost who merely diverts his attention back over to Laswell and Price after staring down the photo for a few seconds.

This time it’s Soap who speaks up, “Who’s that?”

Price lets out a sigh as his grip on the glass in front of him gets tighter.

“Ivan Volkov.”

“What's he done,” Gaz questions.

“We’ll get into that later. Right now, I need you four to head back to the safe house.”

Ghost speaks up, “What are you gonna do?”

“I have a contact completing a mission out in France at the moment to get the last bit of info we need to go after Volkov. I’ll be awaiting their call.”

“What if they don't get it?” Soap chimes in.

Price finishes off the rest of his drink.

“I’ve got a feeling that won’t be an issue.”

Paris, France

A woman watches as the man lifelessly falls back onto the ground, a bullet firmly nestled into his forehead as a steady stream of blood begins to ooze out of the wound.

“Hah…And they said I couldn't be a sniper,” A familiar German accent rings out through her comms.

A small smile comes across her face as she focuses her attention back on the laptop screen in front of her.

“You did well, König. Perfect shot as always my dear friend,”

“Just living out my dreams,” He pauses for a moment, “Do you think I would've made a good sniper?”

“You are a good sniper.”

“But they said I was too tall and couldn't sit still,”

“Doesn’t change the fact you have yet to miss a shot while you’re with me,” She responds as she attaches a small black hard drive into the side of the computer, leaning back and watching as various files upload to the drive.

“Why do you have Laswell request me for these missions?”

“So you can live out your dream.”

She pays no mind to the small ‘thank you’ that flows through her comms.

After all the files have been copied onto the drive, she quickly detaches it and stores it in the small tactical sling bag she’d brought with her.

“I’ve got the intel, I’ll meet you down at the entrance.”

“Copy that.”

The woman promptly pushes herself up from the raggedy desk chair and makes her way over to the grey metal door before pushing it open and walking out the small office. She steps over the lifeless bodies of the various guards she’d taken out prior to making her way into the office. She had quickly come to find that it was quite easy to get through the dead man’s so-called security detail but she knew she couldn’t take all the credit. König was rather handy with that sniper of his after all.

Finally approaching the exit door, she pushed her way through it to reveal the sight of König mindlessly kicking pebbles around with his feet.

“Having fun?”

“Just wanted to make sure you got out safe.”

“Well I’m here,” She motions over to the car sitting a few feet away from them, “Go start it up. I’ll be there in a moment, I have to make a quick call.”

He simply nods before walking away. The woman pulls out a small burner phone from the side pocket of her bag and flips it open before typing in a number she knew all too well by now. She waits patiently for a few moments before she hears Laswell’s voice ring out through the phone.

“Shadow?”

“Target has been eliminated and I have the hard drive. K and I are gonna start making our way back to the safe house then we’ll be on our way to transport at dawn.”

“Actually there’s been a change of plans.”

The woman tilts her head, “What kind of changes?”

“You’ll still make your way to the safe house but you won’t be spending the night there. Instead, I want you to go four klicks north. You should end up in an open field. A short plane will come down and get you.”

“I take it we’re not going back to Germany?”

”Affirmative. You’ll be flown into Chicago and dropped at base. From there, you’ll be escorted directly to me.”

“What about König?”

“I’m going to reach out to KorTac and let them know he’s ready for transport once you two arrive at base. He should be reunited with them late tomorrow afternoon.”

“Alright. See you then I suppose.” “See you.”

The woman flips the phone closed before walking over to the car and sliding in the driver’s seat upon seeing the passenger side occupied by König.

“Didn’t feel like driving?”

He shakes his head.

“The seat doesn’t extend back far enough…It hurts my knees.”

She gives him a small nod as she begins driving.

“You should have more leg room in the plane.”

“Plane?”

“Yeah. We’re heading to Chicago.”

“Scheiße.”

“I like this one.”

“Yeah? What do you like about it?”

König goes quiet for a moment before speaking once more.

“It’s not too loud and it’s not too quiet. It’s simple.”

The woman mulls over his words for a short while before nodding her head.

“Yeah…It is rather simple isn’t it? Just a man playing the piano.”

“Just a man playing the piano,” König parrots back.

They sit in silence for a few moments before he speaks up once more.

“What song is this again? I know you told me, but I think I blacked out for a bit.”

“Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2 by Frédéric Chopin.”

“What do you know about him?”

“He was a Polish composer born in 1810 known primarily for his solo piano pieces. He published his first composition at the age of seven and began performing when he was eight. Even so, he didn’t make his official debut until 1829. People were enthralled by him and so his fame only grew with time. He eventually passed away at the age of thirty-nine on October 30, 1849. His official cause of death isn’t known, but some theorize it was pulmonary tuberculosis.”

König lets out a hum of acknowledgement.

“How do you always know so much about these people?”

Her mind drifts off for a few moments, memories of ballet shoes and leotards flashing in and out of her mind before she eventually shakes her head and lets out a small sigh.

“I like to read about them when I can’t sleep.”

A lie, but he doesn’t know that.

“Hmm…Maybe I should give it a shot.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off by the co-pilot shouting over to them through the opening of the cockpit door.

“We’ve touched down, we’ll be parked shortly!”

She and König spare each other a glance before he’s taking out the earbud she lent him as she quickly wraps the cord over her 7th gen. iPod Nano. Despite the black music player being rather dated, she had found an odd comfort in downloading songs off the internet and storing them onto the small device. It was simple and she’d come to like simple.

True to their word, the plane eventually comes to a complete stop as the pair slung their tactical backpacks on their shoulder with König sporting a hefty duffel hand in his right hand that was filled with various weapons he’d brought with him for the mission. They both stand up from their seats with König having to duck his head due to his massive frame as she goes over and slides the plane door open before beginning her descent down the stairs of the plane with König following right behind her.

Her eyes scan over the layout before eventually landing on Price who was currently walking toward the pair who were now standing still on the tarmac. He eventually comes to a stop in front of the pair as he gives a nod of acknowledgement to König who returns an awkward wave.

Bless him.

Price then turns to Shadow as he offers her a small smile.

“Good to see you again, kid.”

“Likewise, but what exactly are you doing here?”

She watches with increased interest as his smile appears to falter just slightly before speaking, “We’ll get to that in a bit. You’ve still got the phone on you?”

She nods as she places a hand over the small bag, “In here.”

He gives her an approving nod before turning to König, “KorTac won’t be here until late this evening. Something about inclement weather. You can do as you please until then.”

König gives him a firm nod before leaning down to Shadow as he gives her arm a small squeeze, “See you next mission then.”

She returns the small gesture before he stands up straight once more and stalks off toward what she assumes is a quiet place for him to sit back and decompress, she knows missions take a lot out of him.

She turns her attention back to Price who is now holding out two granola bars to her.

“It’s not much, but I figure you haven’t eaten in a good while.”

She takes the small snack from him.

“Thanks.”

“Come on, Laswell’s got some water in her office. You wash those down there,” He states as he begins walking forward with her following beside him.

She rips open the first bar and begins munching on it before speaking, “Am I gonna get any context on what’s happening here or do I have to go in blind?”

Price purses his lips, “I think this is something you should work out with Laswell.”

“Is she finally kicking me to the curb?”

“What? No. Where’d you even get that idea from?”

She takes another bite of her granola bar, “Sooner or later she’ll realize she doesn’t need me anymore and toss me to the side. It happens all the time.”

Price gives her shoulder a firm nudge with his arm as he speaks, “You know I don’t like when you talk about yourself like that.”

She shrugs, “Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

The older man releases an exasperated sigh, “You’re a lot darker than I originally thought.”

If only you knew.

She takes one last bite of her first granola bar before tearing open the packaging of the second one as they both approach a door. Price leans forward and pulls the door open and allows her to walk in before taking the lead once more as they weave through the hallways of the building. They eventually come to a stop outside an unmarked door and Price looks down at her.

“Do me a favor and try to hear Laswell out before you make any decisions, okay?”

She narrows her eyes at his words before he pushes the door open and walks inside. Taking a bite of her bar, she follows behind him before coming to a stop by his side as her chewing comes to a halt as she sees Laswell sitting at a circle shaped desk with multiple manila folders sat in front of her. She gulps down her bite of granola as she looks up at Price with a questioning gaze to which he merely gives her a pat on the shoulder before taking a seat beside Laswell. Her eyes dart over to Laswell who simply gestures to the empty seat sitting directly in front of them. Sucking in a small breath, she reluctantly walks over and pulls out the chair before sitting down in it.

She swallows, “What’s this all about?”

Laswell is the one to speak, “The drive. You have it with you, right?”

Upon seeing her outstretched hand, the woman unzips the main compartment of her small bag and grabs the drive before sliding it across the table over to Laswell who picks it up.

“Excellent. Once I get my team to look through this, we should be ready to go ahead.”

“Go ahead on what exactly?”

Laswell looks up at her, “The past four years of your life have been solely dedicated to finding any bit of information you could get me on Volkov and his current whereabouts,” She holds up the drive in her hand, “This will offer us the last piece of the puzzle. We can finally go after him and take him out.”

The woman points a finger at Price.

“Then what’s he here for?”

“His team is going to help you.”

The woman’s hand falls onto the table as her gaze hardens.

“No.”

Laswell sighs, “You don’t have a choice. If I decide I want Price’s team on this mission with you then they’re going on the mission with you, no exceptions.”

“But there’s no need for them to be here. Every piece of information you have on the Red Room is because of me. I don’t like working with teams and you know that.”

“Then what about all the times you’ve worked with König?”

“König is a single person, not a group of four. There’s a difference. Teams only offer more opportunities to fail.” “But they can also offer more opportunities to succeed. Why are you against them anyway? You haven’t even seen them.”

“I don’t want to see them.”

“Well I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t care. Either you work with this team or I pull you from this mission entirely.”

Shadow scoffs, “You can’t do that.” “I have every right to do so and you know it.”

The pair fall into a loud silence before Laswell lets out a soft sigh.

“I know you can do this by yourself, there’s not a single doubt in my mind about that…But I don’t want you to do this by yourself.”

Shadow looks up at her.

“Why not?”

“Because out of every mission you’ve gone on, this is the most dangerous. Ivan Volkov is a dangerous man and the last thing I need is you out there on the field trying to take him out by yourself. I–”

She pauses as she spares a glance to Price out the corner of her eye.

“–We care too much about you to let you do that to yourself.”

Shadow has to refrain from rolling her eyes. “Then send König out there with me, I don’t care! Just don’t stick me with a random team who I know nothing about.”

Laswell shakes her head, “Various members of KorTac will be sent out on missions of their own within the next few days, König is one of them.”

“So that’s it then? Either you stick me in a group with a bunch of random people or I don’t get to go after Volkov at all?”

Laswell nods.

Shadow lets out a humorless laugh, “No offense Las, but you’re a real piece of work.”

Her lips tick up in a small smile, “You’re starting to sound like my wife.”

Shadow goes quiet for a minute before sighing, “You’re not gonna let up on this, are you?”

“Not this time.”

The younger woman seems to bounce a few ideas around her head for a bit before giving a reluctant nod.

“Fine, but if they suck I’m shooting them first chance I get.”

Price offers her a smile, “I’ll hand you the gun.”

“Good. Now that we’re all in agreement, you’re free to go for now. I’ll have my team look through the hard drive to extract any useful information we come across. We’ll meet here again tomorrow at fifteen-hundred hours to go over everything. Does that sound alright?”

“None of this sounds alright, but I’ll be a good little soldier and say yes.”

“Mercenary,” Price corrects.

This time she doesn’t hold back her eye roll.

“Same difference.”

After the short meeting she had with Price and Laswell, Shadow had managed to snag an empty shower long enough for her to scrub away all the dirt and bits of blood that had dried and hardened to her skin. She’d changed out of her kevlar bodysuit and instead opted for some simple leggings and a hoodie with a plain tank top tucked underneath. She didn’t bother switching out her black boots for anything else, they were clean and comfortable enough for her so she didn’t see the need to. Once completely clean and changed, she mindlessly wandered around base for a just over an hour before eventually finding König tucked away in an old conference room as he let old reruns of ‘Modern Family’ play out on a small tv screen just a few feet away from chair he sat in. Not quite wanting to leave him alone, she decided to keep him company.

Seeing as they originally touched down just after twelve pm, that had been more than a few hours ago, considering the sky was now gradually turning into a mix of yellows, oranges, and reds. Not that it felt like it had been that long. She enjoyed spending time with König, whether it be on missions or sitting in an old dusty conference room having hushed conversations where he freely talked her ear off. She didn’t mind though. Despite his sometimes manic and hyper demeanor on the field, she’d come to find he had great difficulty trying to connect with others on a more casual and friendly level, but she and König had spent so much down time together on their missions together that the bond they had formed rather quickly. She was grateful for it.

As much as she enjoyed the time she spent with König, there eventually came a time where one of them would have to depart from the other and this time, it was him. After having received word that his transportation back to KorTac would be landing in ten minutes, he decided it was best to start heading back to the tarmac.

He’d given her a firm hug that was made only slightly awkward due to his massive frame, but she enjoyed it all the same.

“I’ll see you around, Shadow.”

“Until next time, K.”

With König now departed from base, she had taken it upon herself to wander around aimlessly before eventually settling down on a table outside near a building that she could only assume was a training area if the workout gear people wore while filing in and out was anything to go by. She quietly watched everyone from a distance as the soft notes of Debussy’s ‘Claire de Lune’ spilled through the small speakers of her earbuds.

She sat with her legs crossed on the chair and hands clasped in her lap as she watched one soldier narrowly avoid running into a metal pole after being so caught up in whatever app is currently lighting up their phone screen. Her eyes began to drift over to the entrance, but stopped when her ears picked up on the quiet string of footsteps that were growing closer and closer. She whipped her head around, body tense and glare ready, but quickly fell back into her previous semi-relaxed state as she saw Price approaching her with a sandwich and a bottle of water in his hands. She untucked her right leg from its crossed position and used it to push out the spare chair that sat a few feet from hers. She let her leg dangle off the chair she occupied as Price took a seat in the chair and slid the sandwich and water over to her.

“Didn’t see you in the mess hall for dinner, thought you might be hungry.” She gives him a nod of appreciation and removes her earbud before reaching forward, unwrapping the sandwich, and taking a bite. They sit in a comfortable silence as she finishes off the rest of her sandwich and washes it down with the water. She balls up the wrapper and shoves it in the pocket of her hoodie to throw away later. Price looks at her.

“Where have you been all day?”

“Holed up in an old conference room with König. We just watched some TV and talked before he had to go. He left a couple hours ago.”

Price nods as he continues, “How’d you two meet?”

“I met him three years ago when I was doing a mission of my own for Laswell. Apparently he’d been stationed in the same area. I almost shot him until I saw the KorTac emblem on his uniform. He just took that as an opportunity to start throwing punches and yell at me in German,” She responds, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she replays the memory.

“Bloody hell,” He runs a hand over the side of his face in an exasperated motion, “How’d you get yourself outta that?”

“I started yelling back at him in German.”

Price huffs out a laugh, “Sounds about right. I assume you two get on well now though, right?”

She nods, “Yeah, he’s a good guy. Real talented with a sniper too believe it or not.”

“I have a hard time believing a bloke as big as him takes the time to steady up on a sniper rather than ram into everything like a bull.”

She shrugs, “Hasn’t missed a shot so far.”

Price nods as if absorbing the information. He remains quiet for a few moments before speaking up again.

“So…If you can warm up to a man twice your size, surely you can warm up to the idea of working with my team, right?”

She lets out a huff as she looks over to Price.

“No offense, but I want nothing to do with your team.”

“Oh come on, kid. They’re not that bad! A bit on the cheeky side some of them, but they mean well,” He defended.

“Anyone who can work with you long enough to look past that god awful thing on your head shouldn’t be trusted.”

Price’s hands go to touch the edges of his boonie hat.

“It’s a good hat!”

“It’s a disgrace is what it is.”

He huffs out a breath of air as he returns his hands to rest on the table in front of them.

“Unnecessary disrespect to my hat aside, I mean it when I say they’re good people. I’ve fought alongside them and I can firmly say I’d trust any one of those muppets with my life. You’ve just gotta give ‘em a chance.”

She sighs as she fiddles with the crumpled up wrapper in the pocket of her hoodie, “Must’ve put a spell on you if you’re willing to stick your neck out like this for them,” She mumbles.

“No spells, just quality work done by quality men.”

She doesn’t respond.

Price’s lips falter into a frown before he decides to make one last effort.

“Look, I know you’ve gotten used to workin’ alone these past few years save for König and I understand that, but you’ve gotta see where Laswell and I are coming from here. You’ve made yourself one of our most useful assets, not just as an employee, but as a person.” He stops to think about his next words for a few moments before continuing.

“Look, ever since you told us about that emblem you managed to snag off one of those Red Room assassins, the three of us have spent a lot of time together. I’m not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way Laswell and I–” He let out a sigh, trying not to fumble his next words. “–We started to care about you. Probably more than we should’ve,” He pauses, “We just want you to be safe, and we feel the only way to do that this time around is to pair you up with a team. My team. It’s not a punishment or us doubting your abilities, we just wanna keep an eye on you. That’s all it is.”

The woman remains quiet for a while before looking up at Price, a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips.

“I knew you two liked me more than you let on.”

Price rolls his eyes as he leans forward and gives her shoulder a nudge before settling back into a more serious expression.

“Just tell me you’ll at least try to work with them, even if you end up hating all of us by the end of it.”

She lets out a sigh, “I’ll try.”

He smiles at her, “Good, because I’m not sure what I would’ve told Laswell if you said no.”

They share a small laugh and Price stays with her for a while longer before eventually leaving to get some rest, but not before making her promise him that she would also leave to get some rest soon. She refrains herself from rolling her eyes and offers the most disarming smile she could muster before agreeing. While he was able to detect the steady wave of slight annoyance radiating off her, he decided not to pry any further. She was an adult after all and so, he left as he wandered back in the direction of his room.

She watched as the silhouette of the man who had practically saved her from the life she lived before got smaller and smaller the more he walked into the darkness of the night. She tried telling herself it was just to make sure no one snuck up on him despite being within the relatively safe confines of the base, but she knew better. The pit of guilt that had been festering inside of her ever since she did nothing to stop the steam of lies that fell from her lips four years ago seemed to make itself stronger than ever. It was eating her alive.

Shadow takes in a deep breath as she slowly makes her way toward the two before stopping beside Laswell. She stares at the buckle sat in Laswell’s hand before bringing up her right hand and placing her own object on the bed.

Laswell’s chest tightens as she places the metal buckle in her hand beside the one Shadow just brought.

“They’re the same,” Price remarks.

Laswell looks at Shadow, “How do you have that?”

Shadow keeps her eyes concentrated on the tri-colored hourglass emblem that had been burned into her mind for her entire life. A deep pit growing in her stomach, she looks up at the attentive pair.

“It’s the Red Room symbol.”

Price and Laswell spared each other a hesitant glance before turning back to the woman who seemed to be in some sort of trance as her eyes remained glued to the buckle she’d placed on the bed just a few moments ago.

Laswell decided to speak.

“How do you know it’s their symbol?”

Despite feeling herself tense up at the question, Shadow knew she brought this on herself. The moment she set the emblem on the bed, she practically backed herself into a corner and there was nothing she could do about it.

Well, there were a couple things she could do about it.

On one hand she could come clean about her past and potentially get the chance to aid Laswell in her mission to put an end to the Red Room, but there was also the chance she’d get killed, maybe something even worse than death. Neither Price or Laswell knew the full extent of all the things she’d done in her life and she wasn’t too keen on them finding out, much less telling them herself. Who knows what they could do with such information?

On the other hand, she could just try and leg it out of there in hopes of avoiding any further questions. She didn’t completely hate the idea, but she knew it wasn’t worth the trouble that’d come along with doing such a thing.

Having eliminated both of those ideas in the few moments she took to think about them, she knew she had to think of something quick. Nothing that could get her deemed as an immediate threat and imprisoned, but nothing that would raise too many alarms.

She almost cursed herself for revealing the emblem that had been burned into every aspect of her life.

Almost.

She looked up at Laswell, a small sigh falling from her lips as she quickly tried to sort out the story in her head.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

Laswell tilted her head.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m not part of the Red Room.”

Laswell narrowed her eyes as she pointed to the emblem.

“Then why do you have that and how do you know it belongs to them?”

She took a few seconds to sort out the last few bits of her fabricated story before beginning to speak.

“I kill people for a living–”

“We know,” Price bluntly states, seemingly not bothered by his rude interruption.

The woman fights back the urge to jab her fist into his injured side and instead opts for a pointed look in his direction before continuing.

“–But I don’t work for the Red Room.”

Laswell’s look of suspicion morphs into one of confusion.

“What? But I was so sure–”

This time it’s Shadow interrupting.

“Just because I don’t work for them doesn’t mean I don’t know of them.”

Laswell’s gaze hardens, “Elaborate.”

“Look, the whole purpose of the Red Room is to produce assassins who can execute any and all targets without getting themselves caught. While the targets can be virtually anyone, it goes without saying that a lot of them are political figures.”Price speaks, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Different people have different political agendas. What may benefit one person may be detrimental to the next. So while one person may hire an assassin to get rid of someone, another person may hire another assassin to ensure the safety of the original target by going after anyone set to kill them. Kind of like a bodyguard.”

“Is this your way of telling us you were employed as one of these bodyguards?”

“Not exactly. I never took work based on politics, I took it based on the paycheck. Whatever the highest bidder wanted, they’d get.”

“And how does this tie in with the Red Room?”

Shadow points over to the emblem, “I managed to snag that off one of Volkov’s girls while trying to protect my target. I hadn’t seen it before so instead of killing her, I knocked her out and took her back with me. I managed to get a few details I think you may be interested in before I eventually had to get rid of her.”

Laswell straightened out her posture as she looked at Shadow with great interest, “What details?”

Time to strike.

“Details you won’t get until you can promise me a few things.”

Laswell scoffs, “You do realize you just admitted you’re an assassin, right? You’re in no position to be making demands of any kind.”

“Normally you’d be correct, but seeing as how you won’t be able to connect me to any crime as little as shoplifting I think your hands are a bit tied at the moment.”

“And how can you be so sure of that?”

Shadow’s gaze settled back on the hourglass shaped emblem that represented all the pain and suffering she’d inflicted on the world.

She hated it.

She hated herself.

She looked back at Laswell, willing herself to be more brave than she felt.

“A part of me always knew there’d be a time where I wanted to get out. I didn’t want anything to hold me back when I got the chance, so I always made sure things were perfect, that no one could ever prove anything.”

Laswell nods before speaking once more, “And why is it you think I can give you an out?”

“You want the Red Room gone and at this point I think I’m your best bet. You lay off me and I’ll help you take it out.”

Shadow watched with bated breath as Laswell and Price exchanged each other looks of apprehension and hesitation. She could only hope she played her part well enough.

After more than a few moments of them staring each other down, Laswell turned back to Shadow with a particular glint in her eye she hadn’t quite seen before.

“Tell me what you have in mind.”

The woman was ripped away from her thoughts by the loud laughter of a man. She whipped her head to the direction it originated from and was met with the backs of two men hunched over what she assumed was a phone. Letting out a small sigh, she grabbed her iPod and water bottle before deciding to stalk off in the direction of the barracks in hopes of finding an empty room she could claim for the night.

The woman tapped her fingers on the glossy surface of the desk she sat at with Price and Laswell the day before as the lively notes of ‘The Blue Danube’ composed by Johann Strauss plays through her earbuds. She’s gotten to the conference room fifteen minutes early and seeing as she now had nothing better to do than wait, she pulled out her trusty iPod and tapped shuffle on her classical playlist. Despite classical being most of what she listened to, she did have a few other playlists containing various other genres such as pop, jazz, hip hop, and rock. She was simply raised listening to classical so that’s what she often favored despite more than a few pieces having been tainted due to the unpleasant memories she’d come to associate them with. Even so, she still managed to enjoy every song she listened to.

As the last few notes of the composition died out in the left earbud currently lodged in her ear, her eyes shot up to the sound of the creaky door to conference room opened to reveal a tall man clad in an all black outfit paired with a skull print balaclava with black warpaint swiped around his eyes. He paused as he caught sight of the woman already sitting at the rounded table while she simply stared him down with a blank expression. He gave a quick glance to the room number printed on the door and upon confirming he was in the right place, he slowly stepped in and closed the door behind him before taking a seat across from the woman. Once settled down he returned her blank stare with one of his own, almost willing her to say something.

But she didn’t.

She simply looked back down at the small black music player in her hand as she scrolled through her list of songs. After a few more moments of silence, she looked up to see the man idly tapping away on his phone.

The two of them settled into a rather tense silence filled with unanswered questions, one that was only broken by the sound of the door creaking open yet again to reveal another tall man who sported a grey cap that had a Union Flag patch sewn into the front of it. Her eyes roamed over his lean frame that was clad in a long sleeved grey shirt paired with khaki cargo pants and black shoes. It faintly reminded her of an old photo Price had shown her of himself. She watched as he grabbed a seat that was one over from the man who arrived just a few minutes prior. After all three of them exchanged silent glances, they directed their attention to their own devices.

Just a few minutes had passed before the door opened once again, this time revealing Price who had a small stack of manila folders in his hands whereas Laswell carried a laptop. Upon seeing their superiors enter the conference room, the three strangers quickly tucked their electronics into their pockets as Price spoke.

“Glad to see you lot are getting on well with each other,” He remarked, sarcasm practically dripping from his voice.

The three of them avoided making eye contact with each other causing him to shake his head in mild amusement as he handed them each a folder of their own. Upon getting to the empty chair, he spoke.

“Where’s Soap?”

Soap?

Suddenly, the door practically bursts open and a prominent Scottish accent breaks through the room.

“Sorry I’m late, got caught up at the mess hall!”

The woman’s gaze turned to face the direction of the door once more as her eyes landed on a muscular man with a mohawk.

“Settle down Soap. Just take a seat,” Price spoke as he tossed a folder to where the unoccupied seat was. Her eyes followed the man as he quickly walked over to the empty chair and nabbed himself the seat. His eyes settled on the folder in his hands before looking up and facing the woman. Expecting him to redirect his gaze like the other two, she maintained eye contact but was surprised when he offered her a wide smile. She tried to reign in the look of confusion she was sure was apparent on her face before breaking eye contact and opting to stare down at the folder, effectively missing the way the man’s face fell at her actions. Her attention, however, was quickly redirected once Laswell began to speak.

“Task Force 141, meet Shadow. Shadow, meet Task Force 141.”

TAGLIST: (if i missed anyone or it didn't tag you properly, please let me know!)

@deadpoolsluvrr @simonsbluee @scaredknight @swissy23 @niawritesbs @ethanhawkelovers-blog @watermaylon-writes @ravenhood2792 @shoxji @griimreaperr @galacticstxrdust @cptmaverick-marvel @comedinewithmeyeh @fluffysteampunkd @callmenoiselul @isissakibbs-blog @urfavsunkissedleo @decaffeinatedmom01 @23victoria @silveroak-art @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deadbranch @ella-error505 @water-hemlock18 @abbiesxox @queen-of--roses @kiriki45 @desxr-fx @emrzennn

[multifandomhaven]

Part I

A/N: So here's the second chapter of Bodyguard. I'm excited to see where this goes, bc honestly right now I don't have everything planned out, I'm just going with the flow. Let me know what you think :)

Y/N pushed her glasses further up on the bridge of her nose, sighing as she attempted to get more comfortable in the chair she'd deemed her work-from-home space. She was pouring through the files that had been sent from her office, signing off on some of the easier cases - shots, medicines, things of the like. She had secured a fill-in veterinary student - the very top of his class - to administer the injections while she healed.

Her fingers were tapping over the keys of the laptop, her eyes never leaving the screen. She was very aware of the presence on the sofa before her, cerulean eyes scanning over her as she worked. She glanced up over the top of her screen, meeting his eyes.

"You know you don't have to stare at me the whole time," Y/N spoke, deciding the silence had gone on long enough. "I don't think I'm going to disappear if you find something else to do."

John shook his head, his hands clasped over his stomach as he sat. "Just doing my job, Miss."

Y/N suppressed a shiver, distaste for the pleasantry. "Don't call me miss, it makes me feel old."

John cocked a brow at her. "You're not old."

"I know," she replied. "But the next thing I know you'll be trying to start with ma'am. Just call me Y/N. Or Bunny."

"Okay," John relented easily. "Just doing my job, Bunny."

Y/N smiled, happy with her win. "Thank you."

They sat in silence for most of the day, the distinct sound of keys being pressed filling the room. John had finally decided to turn something on the television, a more than welcome background noise for them both. He had turned on a soccer match, something that the veterinarian had no idea about, and was thoroughly absorbed.

A deep, irritated groan filled the room and Bunny's head shot up, not expecting the sound that barreled from him. He was sitting straight up, his eyes zeroed in on the screen. "Fuckin' muppet."

"What is it?" she asked, confused by the sudden change. She glanced over at the television, trying to figure out what had happened, but it was just a bunch of players crowded around, pushing and pulling at each other. "Did someone get hurt?"

John shook his head with a sigh. "No, just a stupid call."

"Wow, you're a dedicated fan, huh?" Bunny asks, her brow furrowed. "I didn't take you for a soccer guy."

"I'm not a fan of soccer," John almost glares at her, his eyes flashing. "It's football."

"Not in America," she bites back a laugh. "Maybe across the pond."

John sighs and mumbles. "Where everything makes a little more sense."

A little while later, after the game had finished, a loud grumble came from Y/N's stomach. Her eyes widened and she looked up at John, placing her hand over the offending noise. Her cheeks burned at just how loud it had been - she hadn't realized that she'd gone all day without so much as a bite of food.

"Hungry?" John's lips curled beneath his mustache.

Y/N nodded. "Let me just get a few more cases out of the way and then I'll eat."

"Not happening," John said, authority coloring his words. "I'm here to keep you safe, can't do that if you fall over from starvation."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "I won't starve from not eating for a few hours. I've gone longer than that at work."

"Not with me," John informs her. "Your aunt is trusting me with your care. I don't take that lightly."

"Fine," she grumbled. She saved her work and closed the screen on her laptop, placing the device on the table beside her. She braced herself for the task of getting out of her seat, dread coursing through her veins as she realized it wasn't going to be easy. Her body was aching and, although not completely broken, one of her ribs had been fractured.

"Damn it," she hissed through her teeth as she raised to her full height. Tears flooded her eyes but she blinked them back, the pain slowly subsiding as she stood there. "I swear I'm not a wuss."

"Never said you were," he said, his lips pressed into a tight line. "You okay now?"

"Yeah," she told him. "It just... takes me a minute."

Slowly, she made her way into the kitchen of her apartment. She rifled through her freezer, trying to find the easiest meal she could, and grinned when she found a frozen pizza stashed in the back. She pulled it out, carefully, so as not to upset her rib more. She busied herself preheating the oven and finding her pizza pan, but the more she stood and moved the more the nagging pain in her side intensified. She was all but huffing when John came to check on her.

"Damn it, woman," he tutted behind her, a gentle hand on her lower back trying to guide her back to the living room. "Go sit down, I can make a blood pizza."

Y/N turned her neck to glare at him. "I'm perfectly capable of making it."

"More than," he agreed, his gruff voice right in her ear. "But you need to sit down and rest. Get back to normal as quickly as possible, yeah?"

The woman frowned, knowing he was right, but not wanting to admit it. She felt a twinge of defiance toward him. "If I go sit am I still allowed to work?"

John's stare was blank and he was unamused. "No. You've done enough work today. Isn't your office closed by now, anyway?"

She glanced at the clock on the stove - it was five o'clock, and her office was indeed closed. She pursed her lips but said nothing.

"Go sit down," he all but commanded her. "I'll chuck the pizza in and bring you an icepack."

"Fine," she sighed, stopping by her medicine cabinet and grabbing a bottle of ibuprofen. "Just so you know, I don't like to lose an argument," she told him.

"Neither does Kate," he told her with a grin, "but she also knows when she's wrong. Now go sit."

If she was able she would've stomped her way back to the living room, but the pain prevented her from doing so. She decided to sit on the couch, which was better for watching TV than the chair, and grabbed a pillow, pressing it against her chest to help with the ache. It wasn't long before John came into the room, an icepack in hand. He held it out to her, almost as if it were a peace offering.

"Don't put it directly on your skin," he advised her softly. "Do you have something to take your meds with?"

She shook her head no, reaching out to take the icepack. "Thank you."

"Just-"

"doing your job," she finished for him, looking up at him from her seated spot on the sofa. "It's almost like I've heard that somewhere before..."

"Cheeky," John noted as he crossed his arms over his wide chest, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "I'll be back with the pizza."

A few minutes later he strolled into the room, two plates in hand. He had cut the pizza - for a military-trained man a little haphazardly - and threw two pieces on each of their plates. He sat hers onto her lap, making sure she had a hold on it before releasing his grip. "What would you like to drink?"

"A water is fine," she said quietly, a feeling of shame settled deep in her bones. She hated being coddled. John turned to retrieve their beverages when she spoke up. "Could you bring the ranch dressing, too?"

John stopped, his back stiff. He turned his neck to see her, a barely contained look of disgust on his face. "Ranch dressing?"

"You know what ranch is, I'm sure," she said, puzzled by his reaction to her request.

He nodded, turning to face her fully. "Of course I do," he said, "but eating it on pizza?"

Y/N tapped her finger on the side of her plate. "Uh, yeah? What about it?"

"It's a crime," he told her seriously. "A crime against food."

A laugh bubbled from her lips, pain exploding through her torso. She gasped and pressed the pillow tighter against her, "Ow, ow..."

John watched her silently, his hands coming out to steady her. "You alright?"

She nodded. "I'm okay."

"All this over some dressing," he mumbled, his hands still on her upper arms.

Y/N glanced up at him through her lashes, the pain slowly ebbing. "You have no idea what you're missing."

"Fuckin' Americans," he mumbled under his breath, but still loud enough for her to hear, and then straightened his back and disappeared into the kitchen. They ate in silence, watching reruns on the television as they shared their first meal together. John grimaced a bit when she dipped her pizza in the white dressing and took a large bite of it. She chewed it with the beginning of a smile, noticing him watching her eat.

"Don't judge me," she said around her bite of food. "It's so good."

John shook his head. "I'll take your word for it."

"Try it," she encouraged him, holding her plate out to him to dip his slice. "It'll change your life."

He pulled his plate away from her, protecting his food from hers. "I'm good, thanks."

"C'mon," she pressured. "One bite and I'll shut up."

He shook his head. "I've gone my whole life without having it, I think I'll pass."

"A life without ranch," she mused. "What a sad existence."

He shook his head and went back to watching the television as she continued to happily eat her ranch-covered pizza. Once they had finished and John had taken the plates to the sink they simply sat and relaxed. Y/N was curled against one side of the sofa while John sat on the opposite side, his legs spread wide. It was comfortable, Y/N realized, having someone here with her. She didn't think she'd warm up to him this quickly, but she saw what her aunt liked about the Captain.

"So how long have you known Aunt Kate?" Y/N asked suddenly, her curiosity taking over. "She's never really said a lot about you."

John looked over at her, studying her question. "A long time."

"Wow," she said sarcastically, "such an enlightening answer."

John sighed and looked to be thinking about whether he should tell her or not. "It's been over ten years, at least."

"Ten years," Y/N repeated. She was quiet for a beat and then asked, "So how old are you?"

"Old enough," he answered simply. "Why does it make any difference?"

"Because I want to know," she said, tampering down the urge to throw something at him. "Do you ever give a straight answer?"

John smirked and shrugged. "When the situation calls for it."

"That's really annoying," Y/N pointed out. "That's fine, I'll just guess, then. I like guessing games." She hummed as she thought, looking over him. He had flecks of gray at his temples, but his face gave nothing away. "I'm going to say that...you aren't forty yet?"

"That isn't a guess," he chuckled, "that's another question."

"Don't be like that," she groaned. "I'll tell you my age if you tell me yours."

"I already know your age," he told her simply. "Your aunt told me the basics before I came."

"Fine," she huffed, rolling her eyes at him. "Be boring."

John fought back a smile, but he softened under her agitated gaze. "I'm not yet forty."

Y/N gave him a blinding grin, her eyes crinkling. "See, now that wasn't so hard was it?"

An amused hum left him, and he shook his head. "No, but it's so fun to watch you get angry."

She opened her mouth to retort, but a shrill ring from her cellphone cut her off. She dug it out of her pocket as gently as she could and looked at the screen. "It's Aunt Kate."

Before answering the video call she straightened her hair and wiped her mouth, making sure she'd gotten all remnants of pizza off her face.

"Hey Kate," she greeted, fighting the urge to flinch as she saw the bruising on her face.

"Bunny," Kate replied, seated in her office. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling better," Y/N smiled softly, touched by her aunt's concern. "I managed to squeeze in a little work today."

"Don't overdo it, you're supposed to be resting," Kate warned her seriously. "Is everything going okay with John?"

John eyed the phone at the mention of his name. "Everything's fine, Laswell."

"Good to hear," Kate replied. "I'm glad everything is going smoothly."

Y/N took a deep breath, not wanting to ask but needing an answer at the same time. "Have you found out anything about the men who attacked me?"

"Not yet," Kate told her. "Just give me time, Bunny. I will find them."

Y/N's heart beat rapidly, she felt it in every nerve in her body. She swallowed down her anxiety and gave her aunt a small, forced smile. "I know you will."

"I'll call you back when I get more news," Kate assured her. "Get some rest, okay?"

Y/N promised and disconnected the call. She stared at her phone, her mind racing - she had made a conscious effort not to think about the violence that had been inflicted on her just a day prior, trying to push it from her mind completely. She didn't want to live in fear, and while it hadn't been easy she'd managed.

Work and the man beside her had kept her thoughts busy, but now...

"What's going on in that head of yours, eh?" John asked her, genuinely curious. "You haven't been this quiet all evening."

She sighed, picking at her cuticles. "Just thinking."

"Vague answer," he replied.

She looked at him through the corner of her eye. "Like you have any room to talk."

"Touche," John smiled at her. "Really, what are you thinking?"

"I just hope we get them," she admitted quietly. "I don't like feeling vulnerable. Scared in my own home, scared to go to work."

"That's why I'm here," John said, his eyes softening. "I won't let them hurt you, not again."

[blackboxtheater]

Perhaps a mumpearl as Olympic athletes for the inktober prompts :D!! I always imagine mumbo would be a cyclist of some kind and pearl might be some sort of swimmer/diver ?! ( that is like our number one Olympic sport after all),, feel free to do whatever with this tho :D

Sorry anon, I took like two thirds of your prompt and the other third.....went in a different direction. But maybe I'll write another drabble where Mumbo is an athlete because we need more Jock!Mumbo representation in this world.

Modern AU, Olympic Diver Pearl x Sports Photographer Mumbo, meet cute chaos, Paris 2024 games

The thing no one tells you about the Olympics, is how much free time you end up having.

Before your event it's all a frantic haze of nerves and training and excitement and practice and adrenaline and press and even more nerves. But before you know it, you're standing on a podium, hair still dripping wet from the diving well, overwhelmed with more emotions than you thought possible as you watch your flag rise towards the rafters even if there's another national anthem echoing off the walls of the Olympic Aquatic center as it goes.

But a silver medal is still fantastic. Pearl is more than satisfied with her dive in the finals and it takes another two days for the fact that she's an Olympic champion in the 10 meter platform dive to sink in. 

The problem is that even after all that, there are still 8 more days until the closing ceremonies.

8 days is a long time, and you know what they say about idle hands.

"That's a great shot of you, Pearl, did you see this?" Skizz flips his phone screen around across the table in the Olympic Village dining hall, flashing an Instagram post in front of Pearl.

She barley has time to register the photo before the other half of the Australian men's synchronized diving team plops his breakfast down next to Skizz.

"What are you two looking at?" Impulse asks, and then the picture is gone as Skizz pulls it back to the other side of the table to show Impulse.

"Oh yeah, that’s a great photo. You should save that one," he nods in agreement, looking at Skizz's phone even as he starts to peel the wrapper off his muffin without looking down at his hands.

"I didn’t even really get to see- you know just send me the link." Pearl tosses out because just then Tango emerges from the crowd of athletes to join them for breakfast. Then Gem texts her about going to watch a women's beach volleyball match under the Eiffel Tower later that day and Scott stop by their table to trade for another Australia pin and Pearl completely forgets about the conversation and the photo in the general chaos of life in the Olympic village.

She doesn't even remember the conversation until the next day as waits for Tango's turn in the qualifying rounds of the men's 3 meter springboard. Should she be scrolling through Instagram while sitting in the stands for the Olympics? Probably not. But there are so many divers at this stage, and Tom Daly is sitting 10 rows ahead of her knitting an entire sweater, so she doesn’t feel that bad. 

So she opens the link that Skizz sent her and starts to flick though the pictures in the post. It’s a pretty generic wrap up of the Australian Olympic team's happenings; a cool cycling action shot, an athlete hugging his girlfriend in the stands, a misty eyed gold medalist on the podium. The usual. 

But there is it.

Buried in the middle of the carousal.

A shot of Pearl, her fingers just touching the water as she finishes her silver medal winning dive.

The boys were right.

It is a really good photo.

Pearl can probably count on one hand the number of good photos that exist of her diving. Hell, she can probably count on one hand the number of good photos that exist of anyone diving.

Diving is a sport of marvelous precision and grace that does not translate well in photography. It turns out that flipping and twisting your body at high speeds as you plummet towards the earth results in a lot of photos with weird faces and strange contortions. Not to mention whatever is usually happening with her hair.

But there is none of that awkwardness in this photo.

Instead it’s just the single clean line of Pearl's body pulled taught just before she slices into the water. Even in the photo she can feel the tension in her muscles as she arches her back, the momentum of her body as it races towards the water, the anticipation of an impact as her fingertips make the tiniest hints of a splash as they break the surface of the water.

It's gives her the incredible feeling of motion captured in stillness.

She's so engrossed in the picture she almost misses Tango's distinct shock of red and bleach blonde hair on the diving board until the announcer calls his name.

He has a great dive, not that she would expect anything less from the Olympic veteran. But what she notices most as she watches Tango effortlessly slip below the water is the wall of lenses beyond him on the other side of the pool.

She wonders if the photographer who took her picture is over there. She wonders, out of the sea of cameras clicking along the pool deck, which one it was.

Under any other circumstance, maybe that would have been it. A stray thought and some idle curiosity. Pearl would have saved the photo to post in her Olympics wrap up photo dump, and moved on.

Except for the next 3 days, she has nothing to do but sit in the stands of the Olympic Aquatics center, watching her friends dive for a few seconds at a time before going back to just staring at the wall of camera lenses right in front of her.

She cannot stop thinking about that photo.

So it starts off simple enough. First she checks the post for a photo credit and learns exactly how little a generic link to Getty Images will tell you about the actual photographer.

Then she does some some Google searches. Then some some. Then she falls down a lot of internet rabbit holes, and complains a lot about said searches and rabbit holes to all of her friends.

If her friends weren't also drowning in free time after finishing their events, maybe that would have been it. A series of forgotten mindless conversations over the chatter of Olympic crowds under the hot Parisian sun.

Except Gem's boredom manifests in her dragging everyone she's ever met to every event she can get tickets for, which is how Pearl meets False at an equestrian event neither of them really understand. And as they watch the horses conduct nearly identical jumps one after another, Pearl recounts the long, circuitous, frustrating saga of trying to track down this elusive photographer.

"Stress might be able to help you find out," False offers, glancing over at Pearl as she fans herself with a folded up event program.

"Who?"

"Stress. She's…" and Pearl follow where False is pointing with the edge of her program to an announcer tucked up inside one of the press booths. Even from here Pearl can see the woman in the vivid magenta suit jacket gesticulating wildly, her curly brown hair crushed in the center by a headset that appears to have large fake flowers stuck all over it.

"She's here with BBC. I've known her since the London Games I think? Maybe she knows how all that works," False shrugs.

If Pearl had literally anything better to do that afternoon, maybe that would have been it. A missed connection of friends of friends that she forgot about.

Except Pearl has no plans for the rest of the day other than drinking her body weight in champagne, so she convinces False to wait until all the horses are done competing, and then she drags False over to the press section to make the introduction.

It turns out that Stress Monster, equestrian legend and BBC announcer darling, does not, in fact, know how any of that works.

But she does know Iskall, who is either a Swedish language translator, a global media executive, a camera operator, or just a parent watching his stepson compete on the trampoline. Maybe all of the above. Between the Swedish accent, the Bristish accent, and the champagne Pearl had already had, its hard to keep track.

"This picture?" He asks, looking up from Pearl's phone where she pulled up the original Instagram post.

"Yes. I tried looking if there was a-"

"I got it." Iskall says, fingers already flying over her phone doing god only knows what. "I'll do it. I will find the person who took it. Iskall-man is on the case!"

"You're so dramatic," Stress rolls her eyes in a huff, nudging his shoulder.

"Do you not think I can do it? That I can find him? Or her? Because I can. I can find anything. I can do anything. Name one thing I can't do," He snaps his eyes up from Pearl's phone to glare at Stress, even thought she can tell there is no anger behind his eyes.

"What do you even know about diving?" Stress snarks back, barley suppressing a smile.

"Plenty! You don't know that I don't know about diving! And I don't even need to know about that to…"

Iskall doesn’t even look back at Pearl as he hands her the phone back, too busy bickering with Stress to say any more about Pearl's mystery photographer.

At that point, Pearl really thinks maybe this is it. This is a dead end as a friend of a friend of a friend with a real job and things to do other than obsess over who took a single stray photograph won’t remember Pearl's convoluted side quest of these games. Even if the question still nags at her every time she sees the swarms of media that suddenly seem to be everywhere at the games.

Except a day later she gets a call from Iskall as she is walking into the stands for Canoe Slalom. Which is not only an event, but apparently an event Australia is actually pretty good at.

"Hello? Iskall is-"

But before she can get a word in edgewise, he's already talking, voice moving a thousand miles an hour.

"Halo. Go down the stairs on your left right now."

She turns, staring at the stairs on her left, and at this point suddenly remembers that she has no memory of ever giving Iskall her number.

"How do you know where-"

"Your location. I shared it. You're there. At the danger canoe race. Go down the stairs."

"What the fuck? Why did you share my location with yourself, we just-"

"For this reason. So I could know if you were near him. You need to go down the stairs on your left right now because he is there. The guy who took the photo. Go to the photographers. Ask for Mumbo."

"Mumbo?"

"Yes. Mumbo. Go. He's there."

And just as abruptly, the call ends, leaving Pearl reeling.

"What just happened?" Tango asks as he and Gem just stare at her, the only 3 people standing still in the crowd shuffling towards their seats before the start of the event.

Pearl looks at her phone, and then back at the staircase on her left.

"I think the guy who took that picture is here."

"The diving photo you're obsessed with?" Gem asks, raising an eyebrow at her, but Pearl is still looking down at the stairs.

"Yeah. That was False's friend's that we met."

"The Swedish guy? How did he know we were-" Gem starts, but before Pearl can overthink the insanity of not just the phone call, but of this entire insane quest, she turns.

"I'm going to find him."

And she pivots to her left, striding down the stairs two at a time.

"Well of course we're coming with you!" Gem calls after Pearl, the sound of her and Tango's steps echoing after her.

Iskall is right, the press boxes are for the photographers are just down the stairs, and maybe that’s the only reason she gets to the edge of the barricade and shouts out "Mumbo!" into the dozen or so bodies pressed together facing the river.

She watches the shoulder of one guy stiffen before he lowers his lens, straightens up, and turns to look at her.

"Did you take the picture of me?" She calls over the click of cameras and the rush of water from the river below.

The expression on his face shifts to confusion as he looks back at her.

"Maybe?" he says, gesturing with the camera still in his hand.

"This one."

She shoves her phone towards him, the screen full of the image that she has stared at for so long over the past few days. It still takes her breath away every time, how someone could so perfectly capture how it feels to execute a perfect dive. And now the only person who managed to do that might be right here in front of her.

He steps away from the crowd of all the other photographers, coming closer to get a better look at her screen.

He looks at the picture, looks at her, looks at the picture again, and then looks at her.

"That’s you." He says, as if it some sort of revelation.

"Yes. Did you take the picture?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"How?"

"Yes how. This is a fantastic photo. This is amazing. How did you do this?"

"I mean, well, it's quite simple really. The thing with sports photography, so you just have to know when there will be moments that have a good composition. And opportunity, of course, so sometimes…"

As he talks it registers that not only is he blushing as he nervously rambles on, but that he's actually pretty good looking. The photographer who took the photo that she's been obsessed with for a week is not some abstract artist or featureless face behind a long lens among a sea of other lenses. Suddenly it is the attractive guy in front of her who still hasn't looked up from her phone.

"My photos don't look that good though," Tango says, suddenly appearing next to her along the barricade.

"Oh! I know-I recognize you too, you're, you're one of the other-" the camera man stumbles out, finally looking up to dart his gaze between Pearl and Tango with a flash of recognition. "Well okay, so I take a lot of photos so there probably- I mean not all of them get published so there are probably some that are- I might also be a little biased because you-"

"Biased?" Tango says, tipping his head with a glint in his eye, and Pearl swears the camera man's blush deepens.

"Mumbo! You gonna chat all day or what?" a voice shouts from the crowd of photographs.

"I have to go so," Mumbo says, starting to turn back.

"No," Pearl says, reaching for his arm, pulling him back towards the barricade. He's blinking down at where her hand is wrapped around his forearm, but he's not pulling away

"I spent an entire week looking for you. You're not just disappearing on me. What's your instagram?"

"It's just my name. Mumbo. I mean its @ MumboJumboPhotography cause I'm, you know," he says with a nervous laugh as he gestures with the camera one more time. She can feel the muscles in his arm shift under her fingers as he lifts the camera.

"Race is about to start man!" come from the line of photographers.

"I really need to- but it was nice meeting you! Thank you for the- yes. It was really great to meet you!" he stammers out, and this time Pearl lets him go as he turns back towards the Canoe Slalom race.

When Pearl, Gem, and Tango finally make their way back to their seats, she immediately follows @ MumboJumboPhotography on Instagram. It's just so she can tag him in any post she makes with that photo. After all this searching, its the least she can do.

But when she DM's him later that night after a few drinks at the club Impulse and Skizz drag her to…well she still has a few days of free time left to kill in Paris. And he is pretty hot.