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divine-knight-hand · 1 year ago

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The End of an Era

Regina George Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: (Reneé Rapp's) Regina George x Female Reader

Summary: After the iconic Christmas dance fiasco, one of Regina's long-time admirers decides to make sure she's okay.

Content Warnings: Mentions of being a pervert, but fluffiness from there, brief mentions of weight change and dieting, a poetry reference, a bit of toxic behavior (and verbal degradation) but Regina is a queen and I'm wearing rose-colored glasses, nothing spicier than kissing, but their is some dubious consent (but the want is mutual!)

Notes: Christmas dance scene moment!!! I just recently saw the new Mean Girls and Regina George was all that was on my mind since. So, I quickly wrote this up. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,624

Dividers by @anitalenia

I’m no better than a man… I thought as I ogled Regina while she danced onstage.

Most of the student body didn’t care for the plastics’ “Rockin’ Around the Pole” routine, but I made sure I had the best view of it every year. I already knew before this year’s performance that it would be a little different. I recognized the group’s newest member, Cady Heron, from homeroom. Regina quickly took an interest in her when she first transferred in, and she became the newest member of the plastics.

I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. What did it feel like to have Regina look at you in fascination? What did it feel like to be taken under her wing? How many times did Cady hang out with her? How many times did Cady go to Regina’s house?

The clapping of the girls’ leather boots made me jump, and my eyes zeroed back in on Regina. No, I didn’t actually care for the performance itself, but from freshman year, when I first saw Regina in the same tight-fitting crop top, short skirt, long gloves, and thigh-high boots, I was awe-struck. Since then, I’d taken to watching her from afar, which was easy to do, since she always made her presence known when she entered a room. With each passing day, I grew more and more enamored with her.

I found myself instinctively leaning in once the girls set up one of the grandest moves in their performance. Karen took to the bottom as Gretchen guided Regina into a handstand on her knees from behind. I willed my eyes down to Regina’s face once she made it into position.

Though I spent the performance letting my eyes travel along her body–looking at her thighs in the space between her skirt and boots, her exposed sliver of midriff under her crop top, and watching the way her beach blonde waves fell to frame her gorgeous breasts–I would not be perverted enough to hone in on her crotch as her skirt flipped. My mind might already be in the gutter, but I’d still have a little class.

I’d noticed that her clothes seemed to be fitting her a little tighter than normal this year. There were rumors floating around that Regina was gaining weight, but I also heard that she was on some health kick with special weight loss bars, so that couldn’t have been possible. It had to have just been in my head.

Or so I thought.

Suddenly, Karen’s legs began to shake, and as Regina lost her balance, Gretchen lost her grip, sending the three of them tumbling to the ground in front of a surprised Cady. The audience let out a unanimous gasp as Regina hit the floor face-first. Oh, shit!

It didn’t take long for all the cameras to start flashing, and the look on Regina’s face told me she knew that her life as the untouchable leader of the plastics was quickly coming to a close.

I figured that famous poet who said the world doesn’t end “with a bang but a whimper” clearly didn’t consider the fact that a teenage girl’s world could get explosive in an instant, without a single warning. I’m sure they’d change their mind once they met Regina George.

The curtains began to close, but not before I saw Regina take to her feet and speed backstage. I felt terrible for her. Was she one of the meanest people in the school? Yes. But, I was also in love with her- I mean- a firm believer that nobody deserved that level of humiliation. Not even mean girls. So, out of a sense of heartache and longing to comfort her, I did what any normal and not creepy person would do. I jumped out of my seat and went after her.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I couldn’t actually follow Regina backstage, since I wasn’t in the talent show, so I ducked into the bathroom closest to the auditorium. As soon as I opened the door, I saw her, and my heart leapt into my throat.

She slammed her fists down on the sink in front of her, letting out an angry growl.

I gently closed the door behind me, not wanting to alert her yet, but my shoe audibly squeaked against the floor, and Regina’s head snapped in my direction.

I gasped once I saw her. It was an instant, and she quickly turned away, but after she made mascara tears a school-wide trend, it was hard not to notice when they were on her face.

“Get out.” She spat, still facing the other way.

“I- I wanted to see if you were okay.” I stammered.

“I didn’t say to start spewing mushy shit,” She insisted in that same cold tone. “I said to get the hell out.” When I didn’t immediately move, she roared. “NOW!”

I reeled backwards in surprise when she got loud, feeling an instant sense of guilt. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep. I’ll go.” I turned to grab the door handle, but paused when I heard her sniffle again. “You know, I come to see your performance every year.”

“Yeah, everyone does, because I’m amazing.” I turned my head to see Regina impatiently drumming her fingers on the sink, gloves long abandoned. “What, did you think you were different?”

“No,” I admitted. “I know that nothing I do really sets me apart from anyone else in this hellhole.” She snorted at my remark, and I dared to slowly approach her. “So, yeah, I’m just like everyone else. I came to see your dance. I follow all the trends you set. I turn my head whenever you walk into a room. Hell, whenever you turn up, you’re all I can see.”

She snapped her head back to me, her face set in a stoic expression. “Are you mocking me right now?”

“No, no!” I stopped my advancements, waving my hands to emphasize. “I would never!” I moved my hands to my pockets, eyes drifting down to my shoes. “If anything, I was mocking myself. I’m just like any other nobody in North Shore. I honestly wouldn’t expect you to recognize me. Sorry for bothering you.” I bit my lip in shame, debating whether or not I should leave.

A beat of silence passed before I made up my mind to go, but before I had the chance, Regina spoke up. “You’re Y/N L/N.”

My jaw dropped.

“Ew.” Regina closed the gap between us, coaxing my mouth closed with a hand under my chin. “Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.” I muttered, heat creeping into my cheeks. She touched me! She actually touched me!

“I do know you.” Regina went on. “It’s a bit hard not to notice when someone’s practically stalking you.”

My cheeks burned with humiliation. “I… I…”

A faint smile stirred at her painted red lips. “Especially when they’re as cute as you are.”

What? “What?”

“Ugh, get your ears cleaned.” She rolled her eyes. “I said I think you’re cute. Do you honestly think I’d let you creep on me if you weren’t?”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Sorry about that…”

“Don’t be.” Regina moved my hand before wrapping her arms around my neck. “I liked your eyes on me.” She pressed her body against mine, and I hoped she couldn’t feel my heart fluttering. “Everyone watches me, of course, but you’re the only one I like watching me.”

“Regina…” I breathed.

“Oh. My. God.” Regina scoffed. “Stop being such a prude and wrap your arms around me. What are you, a nun?”

“S- sorry…” I muttered, moving my hands from their tense position at my sides to hold her. I felt electricity under my fingers once they made contact with the skin of her midriff.

“That’s… better.” Regina ran her tongue over her teeth, like a hungry shark eying its prey. “I don’t wanna kiss you without your hands on me.”

WHAT?! “Wha-” She cut me off by pulling me into the promised kiss.

She rolled her body against mine, and I sighed, my eyes fluttering shut as I let her tongue into my mouth. Her hands clawed against my back as she tried to pull me closer.

She pulled away, only to keep kissing my face. She kissed all over my cheeks before trailing her kisses along my neck to the collar of my shirt. I shivered as one of her hands pulled at my shirt, and I felt her lips against the sweet spot in my neck.

“Regina…” I breathlessly sighed. “I adore you…”

“I know~” I felt her mouth spread into a grin against my mouth.

Then, all too soon, she pulled away from me, fixing her hair as she looked me up and down.

“You came to ask me if I was okay, right?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Y- yeah,” I stuttered, still in shock from our kiss.

“Well, I’m better now~” She winked. “So, thanks for that.”

Before I could even formulate an idea on what I could possibly say next, she was out the bathroom door.

What just happened? I wondered just before my reflection caught my eye. I was covered in blotches of red lipstick. It was scattered on my cheeks, coloring my neck, and smudged across my lips.

I gingerly reached a hand up to admire myself. I was all marked up. I was Regina’s.

After tonight, we knew Regina might not have been queen of the plastics anymore, but I hoped that she left the room with the understanding that she would always be a queen to me. Her world didn’t end with a bang or a whimper. It ended with a kiss.

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls movie #regina george #mean girls fanfiction #regina george x reader

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sugarlywhispers · 2 years ago

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Thinking about best friend, biker!Bakugou, who always goes for you to pick you up in his big ass bike; no matter where, no matter when, he's outside waiting for you sitting in his bike with his arms crossed over his chest, a permanent scowl on his face for whoever looks disapprovingly at him because of his bad boy appearance. Piercing in the right side of his bottom lip, piercings in his ears, black leather jacket, black ripped jeans. You need him to pick you up from work? He's there. You had to stay late doing extra hours? No matter what time it is, he's there waiting for you to take you home. You need to go buy ladies stuff to the farmacy? He's there ready to take you, and then bring you back. You woke up at 3 am and want a snack? He'll call you an annoying pain in his ass when you phone him, but he tells you he'll be there in ten minutes.

One day, he picks you up at work because you have talked about going to see the fireworks show that was going to take place due to some celebration. He takes you to a place closer to where the whole show will be, people already around waiting. You sit on the grass next to each other as you keep talking about the events of your day. He mmhs and ahhs and pffs and tsks to everything you say, smiling and frowning when it needs to.

The show is about to start, and he sees your discomfort. He knows that even though you love the colorful lights, you hate the sounds of explosion; he knows it's a small trigger for your anxiety, so he takes out he's special airpods that he uses when he's riding his bike for longer periods of time and the loud engine actually annoys the hell out of his ears and they cancel every sound from the outworld but the music in them. He doesn't say anything as he gives them to you and you smile thankful at him while putting them on.

The show finally starts, you don't hear anything but the chill song 'Apocalypse' by Cigarettes After Sex as the spectacular shining in the sky illuminates above you.

Bakugou, even half way through the show, can't take his eyes out of you. Your face enjoying it it's even brighter than the lights. Your smile it's the biggest he has ever seen, and he has known you since you dropped a weight next to him by accident at the gym three years ago–you became instant friends since then. He has seen you at your best and at your worst, and vice-versa. But he has never seen such… beauty in your whole demeanor before as he does in that moment. Content. Fascinated. Relaxed. Happy. And your eyes… he can practically see the show reflecting on them, and he thinks it looks much better that way.

That's when he realizes. How relaxed he also is next to you, how he enjoys much more your reactions than the show itself, how the pit of his stomach flutters when you suddenly wooow to a big bright explosion that almost whiteness the whole sky. He realizes how much he wants to hold your hand, to kiss your cheek for how cute you look at that moment. To actually kiss your lips to discover if your taste is as cute and sweet as you look right now. To hold you in his arms to protect you from the world, because it doesn't deserve a person like you walking on it. You're precious.

The show ends, and the shine still glows in your eyes when you look at him, smiling big as you give him back his airpods, talking how amazing the show was and how cool and pretty all the lights were. You're pretty.

And as he can't take his eyes out of you while you speak, he realizes then.

"I'm falling in love with you." He blurts, and he has never said anything as sure as that.

You immediately shut up, completely taken aback. "W-what?"

His vermillion eyes don't leave yours, and he repeats, "I'm falling in love with you. Hard."

You don't know what to say. He can see the surprise and confusion in your face, but if there is something Katsuki isn't, it is a man that backs aways from his own actions or words. But he understands that probably this is too much now, yet he needs you to know.

"I'm not saying this for you to do something about it. I just want you to know it. Because from now on, I'll be whatever you need me to be. A friend, a lover, your driver, your fucking servant if you need me to. But I won't back away from trying to make you like me back. It's on. I'll convince you to let me be yours and you be mine."

Your eyes fill with tears, emotional tears that don't mean something bad but either something good and you don't know what to say, what to answer. But you do realize something…

He's always there. And he will always be. The butterflies in your stomach wake up and start fluttering around.

#sorry if you find any misspelling #i had a thought and i had to write it #FAST #lol 😆#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou drabble #bakugou fluff #BLUNT AND DIRECT BAKUGOU SUPREMACY HERE #🙌🏻

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pinqueen30 · 2 months ago

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Sonic 5

For the other two posts, I only mentioned Robotnik, but he did not appear. So, he should appear here. Again, I didn't do the Stobotnik reunion earlier because I think they need to be apart in order to rethink their relationship in general.

Sonic 5 takes place two years after the events of Sonic 4 and three to four years after the events of Sonic 3. We were told that at some point the films would involve time travel (Hello Silver). In it, according to my idea, the team of Sonic and Shadow and Metal will be moved to the future due to certain circumstances. Their main goal will be to return home. At the same time, we still have characters who have remained in the present (these are Tom, Maddie and Stone). I was thinking that there would be a funny scene where Stone realizes that his children are missing and he reluctantly comes to Tom with Maddie, because obviously Sonic is somehow involved in all this, and offers to cooperate. In fact, their arc will be that they will try to bring their children home (and well, it's in this movie that Stone realizes "Oh fuck, I'm a parent now"). Let's go back to the Sonic team, they're in the future, basically just trying to survive somehow and find a way home. Somewhere in the middle of the story, they will meet Robotnik (hooray, he's alive). And finally, we will find out what happened to him during all this time. When the explosion occurred, it created so much energy that the ship is moving into the future, while in a more or less adequate condition. Since Robotnik's luck has been upgraded to level 10,000, he survives, although he did not expect it. But he still gets a pretty severe burn, which leaves him with a scar on half his face, and his right arm can no longer function, so he has to make a prosthetic out of ship parts. At first, Robotnik explores the place where he found himself and tries to find a way to return home (along the way, he rethinks his relationship with Stone). After several years of searching, he gradually begins to give up. Plus, there are thoughts that Stone would be better off without him, considering what their last conversation was. He also begins to think that Stone should probably hate him, because in fact he betrayed him. When Sonic's team finds out the reason why he is not very eager to return home, they are VERY surprised (in a bad way). Shadow will probably get angry and say that the idea that Stone hates Robotnik is stupid and absurd, if he (Shadow) had the opportunity to bring Maria back, he would have done it, and that even though he doesn't like Eggman, if he doesn't go back to Stone with them, Shadow will drag him away by force. In the end, Robotnik agrees to return with them.

I haven't thought much about what exactly they're doing in the future and how they're coming back, but the bottom line is that they're coming back. Again, the parents' team is likely to contribute to this (because if parents want to return their children, they don't care about the space-time continuum). In the end, we have a happy reunion of parents and children. Cute moments with Stone, Shadow and Metal. AND FINALLY, the reunion of the Stobotniks.

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#sonic the hedgehog #sonic movie 3 #shadow the hedgehog #ivo robotnik #agent stone #metal sonic #stobotnik #sonic movie universe

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my-writings-and-musings · 2 years ago

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Mer!Rodimus x Reader

In light of Mermay and a recent ask I wrote a little something with Rodimus meeting the reader, I hope you enjoy!

If you like my writing style, you can always commission me, and please reblog to help spread my work! Thank you!

The last thought you'd had before the wave had smashed your boat was whether or not drowning would be painful, but a chunk of debris cracking into your head had plunged your mind into darkness before you could find out. You'd have expected to wake up dead, or rather not at all, but when consciousness did finally return you found yourself feeling less than grateful for the good fortune.

Crashing waves and the song of seabirds would have made for a gentle awakening on any other occasion, but they were hard to appreciate when your body ached from head to toe, the agonizing epicenter throbbing in your ribs as you tried to take your first waking breath. Tasting a nauseating abundance of seawater, you gagged and coughed despite the pain, opening your eyes only to snap them shut against what felt like blinding light.

Tenderly cradling your ribs, which were definitely bruised and probably cracked, if not broken, you curled up on what you realized was stone before a cold, salty spray on your face compelled you to slowly open your eyes once more. Though the light didn't help your aching head, you powered through it and adjusted to the brightness, finding yourself in the mouth of a cave and facing a brilliant pink and orange sunrise over the sea. The storm was gone, much like your boat, and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out how you weren't at the bottom of the ocean.

Your answer came when you turned your head to find a massive red being curled about you on the rocks.

"Hey, you're alive!" he said delightfully, startling you so badly your broken body managed half a jump before the pain once more rooted you to the spot. As you hissed and cradled your aching side, there came a flurry of apologies, and while you couldn't have run even if you'd wanted they still sounded sincere enough to quell the immediate urge to flee. "Sorry! Scrap, sorry! I should have figured that would scare you!"

Painfully catching your breath, you raised your heavy head for your first clear look at the massive being, able to discern what exactly he was now that the two of you were facing each other. A metallic carapace combined with a long, powerful tail made his identity clear even to your lagging brain. You met his bright blue optics as you croaked out the only words you could think of. "You're a merformer..."

To your continued surprise, the mech actually huffed in offense at your words, tapping his tailfin against the rock as he rested his helm in the palm of his servo. The sarcasm in his voice made you feel more than a touch of guilt. "I prefer Rodimus."

"Rodimus. I'm Y/N." you replied automatically, your manners taking over and almost compelling a "nice to meet you" past your lips before the absurdity of the situation stopped you. Everything was still so hard to make sense of you could have sworn your tired eyes saw him brighten once he learned your name. Lying back on your side, you winced at a fresh bout of pain from your head, hissing and gingerly feeling out the bruises and tiny cuts criss crossing your skin. Though you had vague memories of your boat and a storm, it was far too blurry to make sense of, and certainly didn't explain why you were here in a cave with a merformer and not at the bottom of the ocean. You remembered enough of the pounding rain and raging waves to know you shouldn't be alive, and so you turned to Rodimus in hope of answers. "What happened? I was on my boat, and I couldn't get it back to shore. I remember an... explosion?"

"Big wave, but basically the same effect." he explained, stretching out his long tail and resting on his belly in a much more casual posture. The words reminded you of the final rush of water that had slammed into your body, and the abrupt blackness that had overtaken you immediately afterwards. Your eyes went wide as you finally put it all together. After the wave had smashed your boat and you'd been tossed about with the debris, Rodimus must have saved you from the raging sea, bringing you to this cave so that you could rest and recover. The pride in his expression made it clear he was quite pleased with the accomplishment. "I figured that little thing wouldn't be up for the challenge."

"You saved me." you said weakly, trying to process how near you'd been to dying. It had been close enough that you'd more or less accepted it, believing there was nothing that could have saved you as your ship was battered by the sudden and inescapable storm... Yet here you were, injured but alive, all thanks to this mech. With the less than ideal treatment merformers got from humans, you were especially grateful for his selfless act, and allowed the emotions to read openly on your face as you looked back up to him. "Thank you. Really. I thought I was going to die out there-"

An attempt to crawl his way to take his hand sent a fresh spasm of pain through your body, cutting you off with a sharp hiss as you reflexively curled in on yourself. Rodimus pushed himself forward on his tail the second you expressed distress, his own expression gaining a dash of panic and his hands hovering helplessly over you before he spoke up quickly.

"You might still die here, I don't really know how to patch humans up, sorry." he apologized as you looked back up to him. Perhaps you'd just suffered a concussion and it was taking hold, but in the soft pink light Rodimus was undeniably handsome, his bright colors framing the pleasant angles of his face in a way you couldn't deny was appealing. It didn't hurt that his concern was fully appreciated, especially with the amount of pain making you quite certain you were indeed in need of medical attention. Looking beyond the cave, he went quiet for a moment, optics distant in deep thought before he made up his mind on something and let out a small sigh. His heavier tone implied whatever he'd decided on to be quite important. "There's a beach nearby that's usually full of people, I can take you there if you promise to be cool."

"Be cool?" you repeated in confusion.

"Don't scream for them to shoot me." he replied simply, pushing off the ground to maneuver right over you and out the cave's entrance. Dropping himself down the short distance to the ocean below, he splashed into the waves before bringing his upper half right back up, resting his arms against the mouth of the cave to speak at eye level. The new angle made the conversation feel far more equal, and you found yourself briefly lost in the brilliant blue depths of his optics before he spoke again. "I'll drop you off on an old boat dock, and you can handle the rest from there, yeah?"

Though it took you a moment to process, your nod of agreement seemed to make him happy, and you found yourself smiling in return despite your current condition.

"You look pretty light. I'll carry you there if you don't mind getting wet again." he offered, balancing on his tail so he could offer his arms. The gesture surprised you considerably, the whole situation moving so fast you'd have struggled to keep up even without a head injury. Not only were you not dead, but you owed your life to a merformer, a species your own had been on tense terms with at best for much longer than you'd been alive. You'd never even met one before Rodimus, yet here he was offering to literally carry you to safety after saving your life... Even if you'd never believed the rumors about all members of his species despising humans, his actions still surprised you. Admittedly though, having no other options did make the decision to trust him even easier.

It took some work to get you in his arms, but Rodimus was as careful as he was patient, fully supporting your weight as he allowed you to lay across his arms as slowly as you needed not to jostle your injuries. The mild pain was well worth getting even closer, your tired body finding a small measure of comfort from being held against his chassis thanks to a mysterious hum from within that soothed your aches and compelled you to relax. When you were secured bridal style in his grasp, Rodimus pushed away from the cave and into more open waters, dipping just low enough for your soiled clothes to once again turn soaked. You hardly minded for a multitude of reasons.

"Why are you still helping me?" you asked suddenly, looking up at him and squinting against the bright light reflecting off the waves. It seemed like he'd just been passing by when your boat had been smashed, and you could believe he'd simply jumped in to save you on a whim, it didn't make much sense for him to risk all this now that he could swim off and leave you to figure things out. Most humans probably wouldn't have helped him in an emergency, and even now he was risking the reactive bigotry of your species just to get you help more expediently.

"I'm pretty invested at this point. I don't want all my hard work to go to waste." he replied in a mostly playful tone after a second of silence. The logic was somewhat sound, and as the waves lapped at your body you almost felt like you understood before he threw a fresh bit of confusion your way with a wink. "Plus, once you don't look like something the sea spat up, you might actually be kinda cute."

The answer briefly stunned you into silence, but as he quickly rounded the shore and you started to spot signs of human habitation, you found yourself panicking at the idea you might soon be saying goodbye. Rodimus had saved your life, and all of your confusing feelings aside, you felt that deserved a proper thanks you couldn't currently give. Desperation to have that chance leaked into your words as they tumbled out. "Can I see you again?"

Rodimus went wide-opticed, his frame wobbling in the water as one would if they'd just stumbled over their own feet on land. "Well, I don't normally hang around in one place for long, but..." he faded out as he briefly tread water, tail undulating to keep him and you upright. Something passed between the two of you as he met your gaze again, and you almost found yourself grateful for the boat crash as you looked into the depths of his optics and got him to smile, his arms holding you a tad bit more closely as he answered. "If you can make it back to this cave in the next few weeks, we'll see what happens."

"I'll make it happen." you promised, determined to find him the second you were well enough to do so. It didn't matter if you had to rent a rowboat and paddle your way there, you were going to see him again. Judging by how he perked up at your vow and the obvious protective nature of his grip, you were certain he was willing to do just as much, if not more, to ensure the two of you got the chance to meet again.

#transformers #maccadam #idw #mtmte #lost light #tf #human reader #rodimus x reader #rodimus prime #merformers #merformers x reader #transformers x reader #x reader #mermay #self insert

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pastelbatfandoms · 1 year ago

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Daddy's Home

A/N: Obviously was inspired by Randy Orton coming back, plus it's been almost a year since I've watched WWE. Randy really wanted me to write him (or his higher self did lol) and kept appearing in my dream. So here ya go.

Warnings: Pure Smut, Daddy Kink

"I can only take you in small doses, loving's you explosive."- Small Doses~Bebe Rexha

I stormed down the hall, towards my hotel room. Upset of course at Randy, what else was new? This time though he was following me as I opened the room door and almos slammed it into his face.

Randy stopped it with his hand. "Roxy c'mon! What is it now?" He started to shout then lowered his voice, cooly.

As I whirled on him. My long dark hair flying behind me. "What is it now, Randy really? You come back and the first thing you do is flirt with Rhea!"

Randy stopped at that, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "That's what your worked up about? I wasn't flirting with her I was trying to get under her skin. Looks like I got under yours instead."

I crossed my arms, looking away. "It doesn't matter. You and I are not even together, but she is my friend. "

"True we're not. I get she's your friend but so what? I mean you been getting pretty close with her friend Damian Priest, haven't you?" Randy asked, eyeing me.

I looked at him then. "Why are you jealous? I've actually been gone for quite awhile Randy just like you. But yes I do find him attractive so? You going to take him away from me too."

Randy crossed his own arms, closing his eyes at that. "Rox I thought we were past this, I'm sorry about what happened with The Fiend and how I treated you, but It's not like I killed Bray."

I looked down, a bit sad. "I know. It wasn't anyone's fault. Regardless I don't think I can do this again with you Randy."

"I told you before how I feel Roxy. How we keep doing this, you say you don't want me and yet it's the same song & dance of not wanting anyone else too either." Randy said, walking slowly towards me.

I put a hand out to stop him. "Randy...I do want to be with you, I can't help it. I just don't want jealousy or possessiveness to get in the way."

Randy smirked at that, "I don't think that can be helped. That's just how we're wired especially me. But I can promise it won't go as far as it did before. Plus..." He grabbed the hand that was on his chest, as he went close to my ear and said in a low tone. " You like it when I get possessive over you in other ways, makes for great sex." He smirked at me.

I looked up at him,licking my lips. "True... Just don't hurt me again."

Randy shook his head the smirk gone. "I won't. I swear. Now how about you show Daddy how much you missed him." Randy whispered, running a hand through my hair.

I grinned up at him as I brought him down to kiss me, remembering how much I had missed him and forgetting what a great kisser he was as he gripped me to him and kissed me slow,deep and with passion, his tongue swirling around mine as we french kissed.

That's all it took as Randy pushed me against the wall. Making out with me roughly, as he bit my lip. "I need you so fuckin' bad." He growled.

"Then take me." I moaned out.

"How rough?" Randy asked, pulling my head back.

My eyes lit up. "As much as you want Daddy."

"Good answer." Randy gave me a wide grin as he licked up my neck.

Randy then stepped back to take his shirt off, as he undid his pants. I stared at his perfect body in awe. He stopped me before I could take my clothes off though. "Ah not yet. I thought you were going to show Daddy how much you missed him?"

With a dark glint in his eyes, Randy grabbed me around the neck and tongued me then growled "I want you on your knees."

I did as he said, as he gripped fistfuls of my hair, his cock already semi hard as I stroked him. I looked up into his lust blown gaze as he opened my mouth, running a thumb across my bottom lip. "Beautiful." He murmured, then brought his dick to my open mouth as I closed around it and started sucking.

Randy dropped his head back, closing his eyes with a groan as I went deeper, my tongue playing with the length of him. "Oh fuck yes Rox." He growled out.

Randy held the back of my head then as he thrust deeper, the tip of him rubbing the back of my throat, grinning when I gagged a bit. Then faster as he came down my throat. "Mmm good girl." He praised me after I swallowed.

I could feel myself getting even more turned on at that. "Daddy what about-" I started to ask what about me, when Randy grabbed me up, cutting me off as he nibbled my ear, kissing and biting my neck.

"Oh don't worry baby girl we are far from done." Randy breathed in my ear, my eyes closed and my head dropped back to rest on his naked chest, while he slowly ran his hands down my body, then reached up to undo my tight wrestling top.

Once it was off he palmed his hands over my breasts, pinching my nipples as I let out a whine. Then dragged his hands to part my legs as he slowly rubbed me over my latex wrestling shorts.

I squirmed as he touched me and he bit my neck in warning. "Ah don't you dare rush me. Enjoy it." He murmured, his voice low.

Randy did not rush sex, as was his nature, he was slow, methodical, sensual. And he made you feel every little thing he did to you.

Like now as pushed his hand into my shorts, his other hand playing with my breasts. I ground against him, already feeling his growing erection. He lightly played with my clit as he swiftly made me cum, then pushed two fingers in my cunt. "Take them off." He growled, as I shakily peeled off my shorts.

Randy spread my legs further apart as he ground against me. We were both naked this time and I felt his cock becoming even harder as he pushed against my ass.

I started to touch him but he slapped my hand away. "Nuh uh Babygirl. Daddy's not done playing with you." He denied me, as he pulled his fingers from not letting me cum a second time.

Smacking my ass when I whined in protest. "Daddy please.."

Randy snaked an arm around me then turning me to face him as he quickly grabbed me by the neck, pushing me against the wall again. "Wait." Is all Randy says raising an eyebrow at me.

Randy lets up on my throat then as he drags his hands down to play with my nipples again, then kneels down, slowly kissing up my thighs, then biting my inner thigh with an animalistic growl. My Viper.

My eyes closed in ecstasy as his tongue snakes out and he licks up me, with a satisfied sound. "Babygirl you are so wet." Randy's tongue delves into my pussy then as he fingers me, slowly. Randy tongues me slowly over and over again, tasting every inch of me as I clench around him, Randy stops, edging me. "Not yet." I bite my lip to keep from cumming.

Randy then brings his tongue to my clit then lightly as he opens his mouth to essentially make love to my pussy with his tongue. When he feels me getting closer, he flicks his tongue against my clit, hard but sensual over and over again. Randy looks up at me then, I open them long enough to stare at him, as soon as I meet those dark blue eyes with unspoken permission I cum in waves, shaking with a hand to his head as he eats me out.

Randy lets up then, standing up to give me a languid kiss, tasting myself on him. As he rubs against my opening, I whimper still sensitive but still wanting him as he well knows.

Randy smirks as he tells me, "Does my baby girl still want me? Beg for it."

I look up at him in lust and need. "Please Daddy, I need you."

"Mmmm. Where? Here." Randy touches my dripping cunt with his cock, "You want me inside of you..." Randy asks knowing full well he'd do it anyway as he rubbed his cock against me but never entering.

"Very much, please." I begged.

"Good." Was all Randy said as he placed one hand on the wall another gripping my thigh to raise my leg up. As he slowly entered me, I cry out in pleasure as he easily slid into me. He grabbed me up as I wrapped my legs around his firm waist, pulling his dick all the way out then pushing into me hard. Taking his time as he fucked me slowly.

I moaned out, and my eyes rolled back as he kept fucking me until I came again. One hand around my throat again as he kissed me hard biting my lip. "Fuck Rox, I'm going to cum soon." He groaned out.

"Cum for me Daddy." I whined out. As I dragged my nails down his back.

Randy sped up then as he went as deep as he could, cumming inside me with a loud moan his eyes closed and head back in pleasure. "Fuck yes baby."

Randy pulls out slowly then, kissing me softly, as he lets me down. As soon as our orgasms subside, though I am still shaking. Randy notices as he picks me up in his strong arms. "Easy Roxy. I got you."

"That was so good." I answered him with a dreamy smile still not all the way there. "I love you Randy."

"So good." Randy agrees as he holds me close, "I love you too Rox. Now let's get you to bed." Randy says as he carries me, still naked, to the bed.

Okay so we might have made love a second time instead of sleep. Hey he was that good and we were making up for lost time. Long overdue.

#wwe #randy orton #Foxy Roxy #Orton x OC #Smut

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forksarefckingeverywhere · 6 months ago

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The General Manager

NSFW | MDNI 18+

Pairing: Richie Jerimovich x Carmen Berzatto

Summary: Richie takes his role as General Manager of The Bear very seriously. Carmen's explosive temper is fucking up the ecosystem, and Richie can't have that affecting the vibe of his dining room.

Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, implied age gap, implied unprotected sex, anal sex, anal fingering, probably some other stuff I'm forgetting but you get the gist of it

Word Count: 2700

How he isn’t spitting up blood from screaming is beyond everyone. He’s on a fucking riptear–screaming at anyone and anything –and the furor can be heard from the dining room.

Hardly 60 days in and it’s already coming to this; Carmen’s becoming more like David Fields with each passing day. Except instead of whispered deep cuts and psychological torture, it’s a vehemence that instills fear in the other the chefs.

Richie takes his job as General Manager of The Bear seriously–some may say too seriously but that’s besides the point–and he can’t have Carmy fucking up the vibe of his dining room. Out of his peripheral vision, he sees Carmy walk closer to the window and shoots him a searing glare. Carmen’s seen that look very few times before, not enough to be used to it or comfortable with it, but he knows what it means.

His mind goes blank for a split second, but it’s more than he can afford with a kitchen in a state of upheaval. His face looks pale but he’s flushed at the same time, he stammers on his words for far longer than usual. “This cannot be happening” he whispers to himself.

It’s not like Richie can be so predictable, though–he needs to keep Carmy on edge. Besides, it’s not even 8:00 PM yet, it’s going to get so much worse and so much better. He looks away and goes back to engaging with the guests.

Carmen blinks hard and slaps himself in the face to try to jolt himself out of it, “Chefs!” He roars.

Two hours have gone by, it’s ten to 9:00 PM and at this point, the chefs have completely tuned Carmen’s rage out–they’ll be fine without him. As for the dining room, Richie’s pleasantly surprised with Sugar and Fak’s performances–they’re killing it and will be fine without him.

The kitchen is spinning at a hundred miles an hour and the lights are blinding, he’s walking circles around the stations with his hand pressed into his brow. But when Richie walks through the pass door it stops. His surroundings go come to a halt, and all he can see is Richie in his black suit as clear as fucking day. Richie had been making eye contact with him before his vision focused, so he’s instantly met with that same piercing stare that’s making his stomach knot up and burn.

Richie doesn’t hold eye contact for more than a single second. He immediately walks back to the office nodding "hi” to Syd and Tina on his way.

“FUCK!” Carmen shouts aloud.

“Chef–” Tina starts. Her tone is stern, but she’s incredibly concerned.

Carmen doesn’t even look at her, he can’t bear it, he storms to the back office.

The door is already open, as though he was expected here–duh. He abruptly shuts it behind him and looks at Richie, panting and trying to stifle his breathing simultaneously.

Richie looks back at Carmy with a different gaze than before, but it’s still ever so sinister. Carmen isn’t in trouble exactly, but he needs to be managed.

“Richie, I-I can’t do this right now, not tonight, I can’t.” He stammers, pleading right off the bat.

“Carmen.” Richie says, but it sounds like he’s stating a fact. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Wh-wh-what the fuck do you mean? There’s nothing going on.” He’s emasculated and defensive.

Richie looks at him like he has three heads, “You’re losing your fucking mind out there, you’re acting like a fucking psychopath.”

There’s no denying these accusations. It’s not only that Richie’s right, it’s that even trying to argue it would be genuinely psychotic.

Carmy’s bottom lip starts to quiver and he’s trying with all his might to suffocate the forthcoming emotion. His face is getting red and his hand that isn't grabbing the skin around his jaw is shaking profusely.

Richie hates seeing Carmy like this, it breaks his heart into a million pieces. Nothing terrifies him more than the fear of Carmy succumbing to his demons. He walks over to Carm and places his hand gently, yet assertively on his shoulder. “Let me help you.” He whispers.

Carmen closes his eyes and how his whole body is shaking, but Richie cannot decipher whether it’s nerves, anger, or desperation–perhaps a combination of the three? He’s not explicitly saying yes, but he’s not saying no either. With the hand that’s already gripping Carmy’s shoulder, he starts to lightly knead the muscles in his shoulder with his fingers. It’s gentle, but it’s the most Carm has been touched in so long. He’s not telling Richie to stop, and he’s clearly getting his breathing in check–so far, so good.

“You should sit down.” Richie advises.

Carmen clears his throat and nods, looking at Richie with trust in his eyes. He walks to the chair, but before he can sit down Richie redirects him. “Sit there.” He demands, pointing to the desk. Again, Carmen knows arguing isn’t an option, nor does he really feel like objecting, so he backs up against the desk and half sits on the edge.

Richie locks the office door and walks over to Carmen, standing in front of him, just a few inches away from his face. He looks down at the shorter, emotionally exhausted boy and runs the backs of his middle and pointer fingers down the side of his face. “You’re okay, Carm. You’re okay.”

Carmen gulps and nods again, but he’s not making eye contact. He needs this, and he knows it. Richie puts his hand back on Carmy’s shoulder, but it’s different this time, it’s lighter and wanders down his arm, moving from his forearm over a few inches to his waist.Richie’s moving his middle and pointer fingers in a cycling motion, tapping against the fabric of Carmy’s chef’s jacket. The butterflies that have been fluttering around Carmy’s stomach are erupting, and he feels the agony of himself getting harder with every touch.

Intuitively, Richie’s fingers make their way to the jacket’s buttons, and he fiddles with them for a second before popping one open. He looks at Carmy’s face for approval before he undoes another, but Carmen’s eyes are glued to Richie’s fingers—he takes this as a green light.

By the time his chef’s jacket is on the floor, he’s aching in anticipation, mentally begging Richie to rip the rest of his clothes off. But he doesn’t say anything. Richie takes the bottom hem of Carmen’s white t-shirt between his fingers and lifts it up a bit, then he slides his hand under and presses it against his abdomen. For a kid who doesn’t take care of himself for shit, he’s got the nicest fucking abs. His hand moves lower and his sight is still locked on Carmy’s face watching every inch his hand moved.

“Turn around.” Richie softly demands.

Carmen looks back up at him and just stares into his blue eyes for a second. “He isn’t even going to kiss me?” He thinks to himself. Nevertheless, he obliges and turns around to face the wall, still pressed against the desk.

“Do you trust me, Carmy?” Richie whispers in his ear from behind. He’s pressing his body up against Carmen’s now, the only thing separating them is their clothes.

Carm can’t manage to get the word yes out, but he trusts Richie with his entire body and soul. He’s nodding his head as he supports his upper body with his hands on the desk, his muscular arms taking the pressure off of his back.

“Carm, I need you to say yes. Otherwise this can’t happen.”

“Y-yes.” He manages to spit out. “I trust you, Richie.”

Those words start a fire in Richie’s core. He knows he can take care of Carmen, he knows he can make it all better. “Take off your shirt.” He says.

Carmen wishes that Richie would rip all of his clothes off for him, but he knew that more—and better—was coming.

He straightens his back to put his weight fully back on his feet and lifts the white t-shirt up over his head. It lands on top of his jacket.

As soon as his shirt is off, Richie grabs each of Carmen’s arms and puts them back on the desk, pushing him forward so he’s leaning over at a 60 degree angle. “Don’t move.”

Richie’s hands move from Carmen’s to his belt buckle. He seamlessly slides his belt off and is now onto the pants button and zipper. Before completely pulling his pants down, he flattens his hand and slides it between Carmen’s pants and his briefs, cupping his bulge so very gently. He gradually applies more pressure to his grip, waiting for something from Carmy’s lips. But nothing. He’s past the point of needing permission, he already got his “yes.”

Finally, Richie drags his pants and boxers down at once, dropping them around his ankles. It’s kind of a weird sensation, he’s having flashbacks of getting pantsed by Richie as a kid, but at this moment he’s craving it.

“Stay.” Richie demands again. Doesn’t he know Carmen wouldn’t dream of moving right now?

He takes a step back to undo his belt buckle and unzip his pants, but you better believe he’s not taking the suit off. Richie’s so hard, the second he removes himself from his boxers, his cock shoots up for air like it’s been suffocated. He returns to his original spot, this time pressing his hard throbbing dick against Carmy’s ass.

“Suck.” He demands as he forces two fingers into Carmen’s mouth. Carmen immediately wraps his lips around Richie’s fingers and sucks on them hard. Richie’s already going crazy, trying not to moan or show any other premature signs of pleasure. Once they’re wet enough, he yanks them from Carmen’s mouth and starts to rub the tender skin around his hole.

Carmy doesn’t get fucked in the ass often, so Richie takes his time to get him relaxed enough to take him. With Carmy’s spit coating Richie’s fingers, he pushes his sleeve up and slips one in, leaving it for a moment. “That okay?” Richie whispers in his ear again. Instead of using his words—shocker—Carmen clenches and unclenches around his finger, begging for more. Richie doesn’t hesitate to insert another, then he starts to slowly move them in and out.

He’s taking it well, better than Richie thought he would. Maybe this wasn’t as uncommon for him as he assumed? It was, he was just really fucking desperate for more.

Carmen’s light humming and synchronicity with two fingers inside of him tells Richie that he’s ready for more, and so is he. He doesn’t want to deprive Carmy even for a second, so with his other hand, he reaches down to grab his cock and line it up with the space his fingers are currently occupying.

When he finally decides it’s time to remove his fingers, Carmen involuntarily whines at the absence. “Shh,” Richie whispers, “behave.”

He enters quickly and all at once, causing Carmen to double over and bend his elbows. Carmy’s eyes shut closed and he bites the inside of his bottom lip hard. It’s been years since he had Richie inside of him, and it sent shockwaves from head to toe.

“Fuck-“ Richie inhales sharply. He forgot how fucking incredible it feels to have Carmy wrapped so tightly around his cock.

He places his hands on Carmen’s hips to leverage himself, then he starts gliding in and out at a steady pace, ensuring that his entire length fills Carmy with every thrust.

Carmen can’t control the sounds escaping his mouth, they’re not sexy or dramatic, they’re raw and reflexive. Every time Richie’s fully in it feels like the first time, then he withdraws and stuffs him over and over again. It feels like there are sparks of electricity bursting in his head, goosebumps are rising from his skin, and he’s losing the ability to hold himself up for good.

Richie notices Carmen losing his strength and falling more vulnerable. He takes one of his arms and wraps it around Carmy, fully supporting his upper body. “You can let go, Carm, Richie’s got you.” He purrs in his ear.

The noise that comes from Carmen’s mouth in response can only be described as: he wants to belong to Richie completely. Even though Richie isn’t as ripped as Carmen, he’s tall and strong—holding him in his arm while railing him from behind proves to be no issue.

Carmen can let go and let Richie handle it from here, that’s his job anyways.

Watching his bottom moan and fall weak with each movement makes Richie feel like a god. No one can handle Carmy like this, no one can break him down just to build him back up, no one can fuck him into vulnerability like Richie can.

Richie’s dick is pounding against Carmen’s prostate as he lays limp against his manager’s arm. His cock has been on fire for what seems like hours, but now it’s starting to feel quite uncomfortable—he needs to cum.

“Richie…” Carmy moans. “My cock.”

Richie doesn’t need to hear another word. He wraps his other arm around Carmen to take the place of the one that’s been supporting him, and lifts his hand to spit on it. He grabs Carmy’s dick and starts rubbing it up and down, up and down. The whining and moaning is becoming desperate and louder, Richie can’t stop groaning and muttering “fuck.”

“I’m gonna fucking cum, fuck… fuck!” Richie grunts.

“C-cum in me, fucking cum in me.” Carmy breathes out.

The second Richie hears Carmen beg, he loses it. He keeps his grip around Carm and pulls him closer—almost like a bear hug from behind. His orgasm is intense and electric, but he’s not losing any momentum on jerking Carm off—he’s almost there.

Once he’s emptied himself, he whips Carmy around and looks him dead in the eyes. “We can’t have you cum on the desk, there’s important paperwork on there.”

“Suck my cock… please…” Carmen pleads. Does he really think Richie is going to give him the satisfaction? Richie just chuckles and starts stroking him faster—there’s no point in that now anyways.

And he was right, within seconds cum starts seeping out of Carmy’s cock. Richie repositions him so he’ll cum on his own stomach, while he simultaneously keeps going at it.

Carmen’s vision goes white and he falls back on the desk as he erupts onto his stomach and Richie’s hand. He can’t even manage to breathe in and out—he sounds so pathetic and used.

Once his orgasm comes to bay, he starts panting in an effort to catch his breath and process what just happened. Richie guides him to the chair so he can sit, then reaches for a few paper towels to clean up. He wipes Carmy’s cum off of his hand, then tends to his wet and sticky stomach.

Carmen watches Richie earnestly as he cleans him up; he is so fucking grateful to have him in his life. To have someone who not only cares for him so deeply, but is capable of making everything better when the world feels like it’s ending.

After Richie tosses the wad of paper towel into the trash bin, he looks at Carmy and gives him a warm grin. “You know how much I love you, right?”

Carmen lets a breathy laugh out of his nose, and looks into his eyes. “Then why didn’t you kiss me?”

Richie walks to the chair Carmy is still recovering in, and leans down to kiss him on his forehead. Before he can lift his head back up, Carmen reaches for the back of Richie’s neck and inhales sharply as he pulls him in to kiss his lips.

“That’s all I really wanted.” He says softly.

“But it’s not all you needed.” Richie reminds him as he zips his pants and buckles his belt. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” Carmy nods. “Toss me my jacket.”

“Yes chef.” Richie chuckles, picking his clothes up from the ground.

He leaves Carmy in the office to get dressed, and leans against the wall before heading back out to the front of the house.

“You’re the best god damn general manager Chicago has ever fucking seen.” He smirks to himself.

Author's Note: THANK U FOR READING IF YOU'VE MADE IT TO THIS POINT!! This is literally the first fanfic/smut I've written since I wrote 1D imagines a decade ago, so it's not my best work but I just fucking love CarmRichie so much. There will def be more of these to come hehehe also I would love to take requests (I'll write what I'm comfortable writing but there rly isn't much that phases me lol)

Anyways, thanks so much again for reading!

#carmrichie #carmy x richie #richie x carmy #carmyrichie #the bear smut #carmen berzatto smut #richie jerimovich smut #the bear fanfiction #the bear fanfic #why aren't there more carmrichies omfg this is so tragic

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befuddled-calico-whump · 1 year ago

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Total$hit$how: Barricade

in which Jericho does what he can

cw: electrocution, fear of death, adult language

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×~×~×

“Go! Go! Go!”

Everything devolved into chaos as soon as the realization hit, that maybe it wasn't just training and maybe Vic was willing to blow them to bits if they failed.

Jericho didn't want to believe it. Why go to the trouble of recruiting and training them if only to let them die now? But even if it wasn't super plausible, he wasn't taking chances. He sprinted to the obstacle course with the rest; concrete cubes towering over them like giant building blocks.

Okay, so the alleged ‘bomb’ was somewhere in there. He couldn't see an obvious opening, which meant they'd probably have to start by climbing up the cubes, the bottom tier of which looked to be eight... maybe nine feet high. Easy enough for Jericho to reach, but the others might have trouble.

“Joy!” He dropped to a knee beside the closest cube. “Need a boost?”

“Thanks, Jer!”

He suppressed a wince as she vaulted off his thigh, catching the concrete edge and hauling herself up.

“Benji?”

The other man was a little more gentle than Joy had been, but it seemed more due to nerves than care. Joy helped yank him up once he found stable footing on Jericho’s leg.

“Harbor?” he said as he watched Benji disappear over the edge, but when he glanced back, he saw the lanky man was already gone. Not that surprising. Harbor seemed like he'd rather do his own thing, and that was usually fine. Some people just weren't social, and Jericho could respect that, but right now seemed like a good time for a united effort. To… probably not die and all that jazz.

Speaking of not dying, he hoped Sahota was okay, whatever mission he was on. Their trainer could be a little harsh at times, and Jericho didn't like some of his more brutal methods, but he didn't seem all bad. Once he'd learned there was no way to get in contact with Marla and Ari and his mom, he'd begged Sahota to at least let him send a letter.

“I have a kid. I don't want her or her mom thinking something bad happened to me. Just one letter. You can even read it first. I swear I'm not spilling any secrets.”

“The risk is too high.”

“Please, man. My mom’s gonna be worried sick.”

Jericho hadn't thought it was possible for stone to soften, but the hard edges in Sahota's expression had somehow lessened at that.

“I'll… see what I can do.”

That was the moment that Jericho decided maybe Sahota wasn't as scary and soulless as he looked. Maybe they could learn to get along after all.

Kaius darted towards where Jericho had knelt, taking the offered boost without a word or a smile. Which was okay. Nobody owed him friendship, and at least Kaius was mostly willing to be a team player. Once the smaller man had made it, Jericho climbed up himself, taking Joy's offered hand even though he wouldn't have had much of an issue on his own.

“Where would we be without you?” Benji said, offering a nervous smile.

“On the ground,” Kaius replied. “Now let's go. We have a bomb to find.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Benji muttered.

“Anyone see where Harbor got off to?”

“I'd say we have a bigger problem. One we can solve without Harbor.” Kaius moved to the next tier, this one a few feet shorter. “We should climb higher. Get the best vantage point and see if we can find the device visually.”

“On and up then,” Jericho said, trying to keep his tone optimistic. From what he could tell, the maze of cubes was huge and asymmetrical, but not so big that they couldn't find the thing in an hour.

…right?

They began the slow climb upwards, tier by tier, rounding corners and peeking past ledges and finding nothing.

“You know, I'm starting to think it's better if we don't find the bomb,” Benji panted as they climbed the final tier. “This is all concrete, right? If there are real explosives, we'll be safer the further away we are.”

“And fail the test?” Joy said. “That's how we'll end up back in training limbo. Or jail.”

Jericho pulled himself up and ran to the edge. How long had it already been? Not more than ten, fifteen minutes, right? This was the highest point. They should be able to scan the maze and find the target, like Kaius said.

Only when he reached the ledge, he saw nothing, just empty concrete on all sides. Like a giant, uneven layer cake.

“Shit,” Benji muttered. “Shit, where'd it go? Was this a prank? Is Vic pranking us?”

And where was Harbor? From up here, Jericho should've been able to see him. Unless he'd just left, but he wouldn't do that, would he?

“Maybe it's not here at all? Maybe it went somewhere else in the room and the blocks were a red herring,” Joy offered, but Kaius shook his head.

“I don't see it, and its trajectory suggested this area.” He narrowed his eyes. “I think… the structure may be hollow. We may need to find a way inside.”

Jericho hadn't seen anything on the climb up, but maybe it was on the other side? Or maybe it was concealed? Shoot, would they have enough time to find it?

“Everyone split up. Shout for the others if you find an entryway.”

Ah. Yeah, that was definitely a better angle. They didn't have to stick together through the entire trial.

Jericho slipped off the edge, checking the next tier down. He didn't know what he was looking for, but it had to be somewhat obvious, right? He knocked on the side of the concrete, tapped his foot on the ground, and scanned for seams, but nothing really stood out.

“Yo guys! Over here!” Joy's voice came from the second tier, the exact opposite side from the one they'd climbed up initially.

When he made it to her, he saw what must've been the most obvious door in the world. Plain wooden brown, only missing a doorknob. From the ground, they would've seen it immediately.

“I guess the learning point here is ‘look around the exterior before going in’ ?” Joy said, giving it a test push. It swung inwards. Benji let out a heavy sigh at that.

“Why am I even here.”

Jericho gave him a consoling pat on the back on his way inside. The interior looked like a branching corridor, poorly lit, but at least he could sorta see.

“Looks clear,” he said. “Should we just… run inside?”

“We should at least start moving. We've burned through half our time limit,” Kaius muttered, moving in to join him. Jericho shot him a questioning look, and the smaller man held up his wrist.

“I suppose no one else wears watches anymore.” He moved to the first fork, peering down each path. “I don't know how much of a labyrinth this will be. If we split up, we'll cover the most ground.”

“No way,” Benji said. “I'm not going in there alone, not when there's murderbots on the loose.”

“Taserbots,” Joy corrected him. “But I agree. If it's a maze, it'll be hard to regroup.”

“It will also be hard to find our target if we’re moving as a large team,” Kaius insisted. “If you're so afraid, you take Ruebin. Davis and I will take the other corridors—”

“Ah, I think I'm on Joy's side here,” Jericho said. What if only one of them found the bomb and all of their skills were needed? What if someone ran into the drones and got hurt because they had no backup?

Something twisted in his stomach when he realized that may well have happened to Harbor. Shoot… they needed to get moving. Not just for the bomb, but for their reluctant teammate.

“And if the bomb is real, I'm sure you'll all be happy to die together when we don't find it.”

“Oh don't be so fucking stubborn—”

“Maybe we should just leave?”

“And then Vic will excuse us from the mission and all of you will go to prison. Is that what you want, Ruebin?”

“I'm sorry not all of us have rich parents to bail us out—”

“You don't know a thing about my parents—”

“Guys,” Jericho cut in, and in the split second of silence when the two turned their glares to him, he heard it. A faint hum, coming from—

“Shit!”

“Taserbot!”

Jericho dropped to a crouch just in time for one of the drones to go whirring past his head. He realized too late that it was making a beeline for Kaius, and the smaller man didn't react quick enough to avoid its deploying weapon; a thin metal line that extended from the body like the tongue of an anteater. As soon as it reached Kaius, latching onto his neck, he went rigid, his eyes wide.

Jericho’s first instinct was to punch it away, and it mostly worked, his knuckles smarting something terrible as the drone rocked to the side and Kaius collapsed. He lunged forward, scooping up the smaller man.

“Okay, run time.”

He took off down the left corridor, Joy and Benji close behind.

“What the fuck—?”

“Cattle prod, my ass.”

The hall twisted and turned every few feet, now and then branching off into more paths that Jericho chose at random.

“Is it… did it follow us?” he asked when they'd at last come to a stop.

“I don't think so,” Joy muttered, leaning on the wall. “Shit, those things pack a punch.”

“What now?”

Jericho didn't know. He wasn't even entirely sure he'd be able to retrace his steps back to the start of the maze.

“You can put me down now,” mumbled the man in his arms, and Jericho lowered him.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes,” Kaius said, though he seemed unsteady, keeping one hand firmly on the wall.

“Did it hurt?” Benji asked.

“Yes,” Kaius said again, the word much sharper this time.

“We'll worry about the bots later,” Joy said. “Maybe we should split up. Not all the way, just… teams of two.”

“Fine by me,” Kaius said, glancing up at Jericho. “Davis? With me.”

Jericho smiled. It was probably the closest he'd get to a thank you.

“Guess we'll play Marco Polo if we find it first,” Benji said, giving a half-hearted wave before following Joy into the corridor.

Well. He and Kaius could retrace their steps, maybe check out some of the halls he'd ran past? This place couldn't be that huge, and they should have plenty of—

“Twenty five minutes,” Kaius said. “We need to move.”

Shoot.

The two of them jogged back through the corridor. Jericho was careful to match Kaius's speed; the smaller man still seemed a little shaky, even if he didn't seem willing to admit it.

“Do you have a plan to find it?”

“No,” Kaius answered after a moment. “I'm not wholly convinced it isn't an impossible task.”

They turned into another corridor, this one seeming to go deeper into the structure, its floor angled downwards.

“Why would Vic give us an impossible task?”

“Either to see how we handle failure…” Kaius began, looking between another two paths, one that evened out and one that continued the decline. He chose the descending hall. “...Or the bomb is real, and this is the quickest way to eliminate all of us at once.”

Sheesh. “Seems a little extreme.”

“People will go to extremes to protect their secrets.”

Well. That didn't exactly give him a warm fuzzy.

Kaius let out an irritated sigh as they came to yet another fork in the path. “We should keep going deeper. If I were Vic, I'd put the target as far from the entrance as possible, in order to—”

“Wait.” Jericho squinted down the level corridor. There was something on the ground, its shape irregular, like a spilled laundry basket, or…

“Shoot. Harbor.”

“What?”

Jericho didn't take time to answer, taking off towards the figure on the ground. He must've run into the drones, and without anyone to fend them off or drag him away… shoot. He dropped to a knee beside the lanky man, pressing two fingers into the skin of his wrist and letting out a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse.

“Hey,” he said, giving his shoulders a shake. Harbor groaned in response, but didn't open his eyes. He looked younger like this, and Jericho found himself wondering, not for the first time, how old he really was.

“Is he dead?” Kaius said from over his shoulder, not sounding like he cared what the answer was. Then again, he usually sounded pretty monotone, so Jericho didn't hold it against him.

“He should be okay.” Jericho shook Harbor by the shoulders again, and this time, his eyes fluttered open, though they were half-lidded and unfocused.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuckin… robots.”

“Can you sit up?” Jericho said, wincing when Harbor practically threw himself onto his feet, falling against the wall with enough force he might've dented it if it wasn't concrete.

“Not my fault,” he said, starting to trudge away from the other two. “I couldn't see them. Trying to find the fucking bomb, so I couldn't see 'em coming. They don't… they don't have the color like humans do.”

Jericho wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about. “Uh… color?”

Harbor glanced backwards at him, still looking like he was about to pass out again. “Neutrals. People have them.” He jutted his chin out at Jericho like he was gesturing. “You're purple.”

“Implant effects?” Kaius said.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Jericho jogged after him. “Hey. You said you're trying to find the bomb. Are you… using the implant?”

“No, I'm fucking using elocation.”

Jericho knit his eyebrows together. “Echolocation?”

“Whatever.”

Kaius hadn't moved, and was standing in the center of the path, his arms crossed. “This is a waste of time.”

“Then get lost,” Harbor said. “I can find it on my own.”

“Well… we're supposed to be working as a team,” Jericho said. Harbor didn't turn around, and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Harbor,” he tried again. “We need your help.”

The lanky man didn't say anything, but he did stop walking.

“This place is a maze,” Jericho continued. “I have no idea where to find this thing. But you might. You might be the only one who can find it in the next…”

“Fifteen minutes,” said Kaius.

“Fifteen minutes,” Jericho repeated. “We can't do this without you.”

Harbor was quiet for a moment, but then he shrugged. “Fine, I guess.” He pushed himself up from the wall, his stride quicker than it had been as he took off down the hall. After a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure Kaius was coming too, Jericho followed.

Harbor took turns seemingly at random, sometimes pausing at a fork and squinting down each corridor before choosing one. Trusting in whatever artificial clairvoyance Harbor had felt a little weird, but what else did they have to go off of?

“There.” Harbor at last came to a stop, leaning on the wall. His hand was clutched to his temple, a wince in his expression.

“You okay?”

“Head hurts.”

“From the implant?”

“We don't have time,” Kaius said. “Seven minutes.”

Jericho nodded, pressing his lips together. As much as he hated to ask, this could still be a do or die moment.

“Harbor… can you—?”

“Yeah. Fucking sure. Let me see what I can see.”

They rounded the corner, and there it was, sitting at just over six minutes, true to Kaius's count.

“Okay. Shoot.” Jericho glanced over his shoulder, then back at all the screens and knobs, most of which didn't even look like they were connected to anything. “Either of you ever do something like this?”

“You're the hacker, aren't you?”

“I'm not a bomber. Pretty sure there's a difference.” Still, he moved closer to the device, cautiously tapping on each screen to see if they'd at least light up. And… nothing happened.

“Harbor?” Kaius said, but the other man shook his head.

“S’too many things. I don't know.”

Jericho let out a small puff of air, braced himself, and carefully picked it up. The timer didn't stop, but it also didn't just blow up in his hands, so he'd consider it a win. Now what? Should he pry it apart and get a look at the inside? What would that do to it?

“I'm really not sure—”

“Drone!” Kaius said, and Jericho looked up just in time to see the metal sphere hurtling towards him. He tucked the bomb under one arm and dealt an uppercut to the bot, sucking in air through his teeth at the sting in his knuckles. The drone wobbled in the air, but didn't fall. Jericho moved to put himself between it and his teammates. They'd both been shocked already, they didn't need—

“Davis, watch out!”

He dodged, but not quick enough, and its thin metal tongue caught him in the upper arm, spewing electricity into him like poison. Every muscle tensed so tightly it hurt, pain arcing across his vision like bright spiderwebs until he at last collapsed, falling out of the weapon’s reach.

Jericho groaned, trying to bring himself back to awareness past the buzzing in his ears. The drone was still here, the bomb was still here, everyone was still in danger. He needed to get up, but his body was slow to obey.

“Five minutes,” Kaius was saying, but he sounded muffled, and from the corner of his eye he saw Harbor swing at the drone, only to be met with another electrical shock.

Get. Up.

He forced himself to his feet, aiming a clumsy blow at the bot. It didn't land, but its weapon receded. He was too far to catch Harbor, and could only watch as he hit the ground. Damnit, what could he do? He was still dazed from the shock, too slow to put up a fight, had no clue what to do with the bomb, and they were running out of time.

Jericho dodged the drone's tongue by an inch, stumbling as he did, rolling when he hit the ground to give himself more distance. He came to his knees beside Harbor, once again forming a Jericho-barricade between him and the enemy, though he doubted he could do much besides take the shock himself.

Behind him, there was another low hum.

Damnit!

“Harbor,” he shook the unconscious man's arm, keeping his eyes on the drone in front of him. “Harbor, wake up.”

Across the room, Kaius set the bomb down, and aimed a kick at the encroaching drone. The toe of his shoe just barely grazed the metal, but it was enough to make the thing turn around. Jericho turned himself, ready to attempt to face drone number two.

The round metal chassis poked around the corner, but something was wrong. It was low, and misangled, and attached to—

“Joy!”

She was wearing the drone half over her fist, like an oversized set of brass knuckles. Jericho wasn't too surprised. If anyone was gonna manage that, it was gonna be her. Her triumphant smile turned to a snarl as she spotted the first drone.

“Drop, Manak!”

Kaius didn't need to be told twice. Joy lunged forward, filling the room with a crunching clang as chassis hit chassis. The hovering drone smacked into the wall, still flying, but definitely flying a little less straight. Undeterred, Joy's bot-fist slammed into it again, and the thing spun out, landing on the ground with an uneven whir.

Benji came up beside Jericho, offering a hand up, which he took gratefully.

“I can't believe you two,” he said with a grin. “How'd you get the drone?”

“Well it started coming at us, and—”

“Bomb,” Kaius said.

“And I'll tell you later,” Joy finished.

“We're down to three minutes.” Kaius held it towards her, eerily calm despite the fact that this thing still might be real.

“Three minutes?” Benji said. “Shit, do you know how to—?”

“No.”

“Let me see.” Joy took it, fidgeting with the screens and dials.

“Any ideas?”

“I don't know. It's definitely not like any of the bombs I've seen.”

“Maybe it's just a hoax?”

“At least we'll all die together,” Benji mumbled, sliding onto the ground next to Joy.

What if they did? What if Vic really did just want to get rid of them?

“Don't say that,” Jericho said. “We'll figure it out.”

“In three minutes?”

“Two and a half now,” Kaius put in.

Two and a half. Not nearly enough time, even if he did know where to start. Joy didn't seem to be making progress, Harbor was still passed out on the floor…

“Give it to me,” Jericho said.

“Just a sec,” Joy said, prying at one of the screens.

“There's no time.” He sighed. “I'll take it and run. If it is real, maybe I'll get far enough for you all to stay safe.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Maybe. Just…” he held out his hands.

“Absolutely not. Like Benji said, we'll die together.”

“Well I'm not married to the idea…”

“Okay, fine.” Jericho moved to Harbor, getting an arm around the unconscious man and hauling him up. “Benji, Kaius, take him and go. Get as far as you can. We'll try to solve this.”

Kaius frowned. “Davis—”

“No point in everyone getting blown up. Go.”

Two minutes left.

The two of them got on either side of Harbor and started dragging him back the way they'd come. If it was real… Jericho just hoped they'd have enough time to clear the blast. He dropped to his knees beside Joy.

“What are you thinking?”

“I don't know. At this point, we just gotta tear it apart, right?”

“Might be our best shot.”

“Wish I had a fucking screwdriver.” She managed to get her fingers under a screen and jerk it away from the device, but underneath was only smooth metal.

“Fuck!”

“Try another one.”

“Or…” Joy clenched her fingers around the broken drone and began to slam it into the device, again and again until it started to come apart, but the clock kept ticking.

“Jer, just run. Like you said, no point in both of us—”

“We can figure it out,” he insisted, pulling at the cracks she'd created. Inside was an excessive amount of wires, tangled like rainbow spaghetti. Ari loved spaghetti. God, please let the letter get to them, if I don't make it, just let them be okay.

Thirty seconds.

No time for finesse. Jericho started ripping out wires, not getting so much as a beep from the device. The more he pulled, the more he found, almost like the whole thing was just wire.

Twenty seconds.

No matter how much he ripped apart, it was still steadily counting down, and how much explosives did it take to kill you anyway? Was the charge small enough that he could throw it across the room and they'd both survive? He didn't know.

Ten seconds.

Maybe they all should've ran. If they abandoned Vic's mission, he'd hand them over to the law, but he could still write his daughter letters from jail, still get visits, and Joy had a family too. Why hadn't he forced her to leave, why hadn't he just snatched it from her hands and ran in the first place?

She'd run after you. She'd never let you get that far.

Hell. There were worse people to die with.

Three.

Two.

One.

Both of them jerked back on instinct, arms flying up to shield their faces as if that would be enough to save them.

But…

Nothing happened. The device was emitting a high pitched whine, almost too faint to hear past the blood rushing in his ears.

Joy laughed, falling back onto her elbows. “Holy shit. It was a hoax after all.”

“Knew it,” Jericho said with an uneasy laugh. He had, hadn't he? Why was his heart beating so fast, then? Why did he feel like he was about to cry, that he needed to hug Arabella right now or his chest would burst?

Joy threw an arm around his shoulder, and he settled for hugging her instead.

“Here's to stupid bravery,” she said. “Fuck, I need a drink after that. My hands are fucking shaking.”

She helped him to his feet, and he found he was shaky too. No matter how implausible a real bomb was, that small chance…

Shoot. Yeah, he wouldn't mind a drink right about now either.

Above them, the concrete began to shift, cubes unstacking and reforming until they were standing on open ground, in the training room as it had been before the challenge.

Vic was standing beside the other three, hands clasped behind his back. Harbor looked dazed, but at least he was up and blinking. Jericho gave a little wave.

“Sloppy, but not entirely incoherent,” Vic said, strolling over to him and Joy. “Your cohesion was above what I'd anticipated, and I must say I admire your refusal to quit.” He turned back to the other three. “Mr. Manak, I appreciate your willingness to take charge. And Hunter, excellent work locating the device.”

Joy's hand went up. “Was there a better way to defeat it? Something obvious that we missed?”

Vic chuckled. “There wasn't a way to defeat it at all. In fact, I'm surprised you even found it.”

So the ‘mission’ was a success?

“I was worried about what would happen when I had all of you working together, but I'd say this team has some real potential,” Vic continued. “Good work. Go on and take the rest of the day for yourselves. I think you've earned it.”

Sure felt like they had. Jericho wouldn't have considered the bomb hunting much of a workout, but he was exhausted. As Vic left the room, he and Joy moved to rejoin the rest of the team. Even after Vic said they could, none of them had moved to leave. Not even Harbor.

“So,” Jericho began. “Not a real bomb.”

“No shit,” Harbor said, but it didn't sound half as bitey as his usual comments. Neither him nor Kaius seemed like they wanted to make eye contact. Benji, on the other hand, hugged Joy, then detached himself from her and hugged him.

“You're an actual badass and I love you,” he said, to which Jericho responded with a chuckle and a pat on the back.

“Good job getting Harbor out.”

“We both know I didn't do shit,” Benji said with a laugh.

Joy gave an exaggerated stretch beside them. “Normally, I'd invite everyone out to a bar after an event like that, but seeing as we're all stuck inside… I dunno. Wanna head to the kitchen and whip up some pancakes? I'm sure I can figure them out this time.”

Joy turned to go, and Benji joined her. Harbor shrugged and trailed behind them. It was just Jericho and Kaius left, trapped in an awkward silence.

“So,” he said lamely.

“You're an idiot,” Kaius replied. “If it had been real—”

“It wasn't. Everyone's fine.” His own fear seemed ridiculous now. He felt like an idiot for believing it for even a second. Kaius let out a huff.

“You're not a human shield, Davis. You're some of the only brains this team has.”

That nearly sounded like a compliment. “I can’t help it,” Jericho shrugged. “If I can help, I'm going to help.”

“I've gotten fairly good at watching my own back,” Kaius said, and it almost sounded like that was the end of it, that the smaller man would turn on his heel and saunter away, but then…

“You could've left me in the maze. After the drone attack. You could've left Harbor.”

Jericho shook his head. “No. No, I couldn't have.” He rubbed the back of his hand, knuckles still throbbing from the hits he'd dealt the robot. “We're a team now. Gotta stick together and all that jazz.”

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“Would you have left me?” Jericho asked.

“Yes. If it was pragmatic, and the mission could still go on without you. Now that you know that, would you still say that you—”

“Yes,” Jericho said. “Yes, I still wouldn't leave you behind. It's not a transaction, Kaius. It's just what's right.” He sighed. Is this what he’d stayed back for? To start an argument that might ease his bruised pride?

“I'm gonna go get some pancakes,” he said, turning around.

“Davis—”

“Hm?”

“I…” Kaius bent his head. “Thank you. It was stupid, everything you did was stupid, but I can't say I'm not a little grateful.”

Jericho felt a smile forming. Well what do you know?

“You're welcome,” he said. “And call me Jericho.”

×~×~×

@theonewithallthefixations

#he tends to let his own heart get ahead of him #total$hit$how #electrocution #writing

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hoodedscarlet · 9 months ago

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Title: breathe into me (fall into you) Fandom: Overwatch Rating: Explicit Ship: Cole Cassidy/Gabriel Reyes Tags: Canon Compliant, Reunion Sex, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Masks, Monster!Gabriel Reyes, Light Pet Play Themes WC: 3,238 Read on AO3 here

-x-

Cassidy had never given up on Gabriel being alive. Never meant he was prepared for coming face to face with the ghost of him, let alone in a backwater town in the middle of nowhere.

Luckily, the two of them are more than happy to fall into old, hedonistic vices to soothe the pains of their reunion - with a little help, of course.

Considering how many years it'd been since he’d walked through the door, it was surprising how little this backwater safe house had been touched by the passage of time. Cassidy ran a hand over the countertop; the drag marks left on the counter made the layer of dust over every surface in the room even more striking. From the tops of the cabinets bolted higglety-pigglety to the wall, to the linens left wrinkled on the beds. Just moving through the room alone had kicked up a not-insubstantial amount into the air; not for the first time tonight he was thankful for the serape around his face.

The other was right in front of him - for a man dressed in leathers slinking about like a harbinger of death, it was some sort of whiplash to see Reaper- No, Reyes leaning over one of the beds to push open the window. Realising that was the connection he’d been missing all these years was still taking it’s sweet time to sink in.

He'd thought the man dead, for fuck's sake- (-no. No he didn't. Some sorry part of him had always stuck on the missing body after the Zurich explosion. Worried at the way things didn't add up like a hangnail as he sought out the answer in the bottom of his glass. Gabriel fucking Reyes didn't just disappear, there had to be something he was missing, there had to be, there had to be-) "Can you think any louder, Cassidy?" Cassidy was pretty sure he could hear the snap in the air as he came back to himself - if the tilt of Reyes head in return was anything to go by, he wasn't the only one aware of it. He shrugged it off, offering a winning grin in return.

"What can I say, boss? Thought you were dead - and gotta say, you got some real pep for a corpse." A beat of silence passed between them, ringing with all the volume of a gunshot. For anybody else it'd be understandable - for Gabe Reyes? A man who could volley banter whether it was on base on Christmas, under fire in Venice, on stakeout in the deep South? The silence now spoke volumes by comparison.

"I'm not your boss anymore, Cassidy." He said, eventually.

“Sure you are. What’s a few years, a faked death, a lost arm-“ he flopped onto one of the cots, hold up his prosthetic and wiggling his fingers to make a point “-and you tryin’ to kill me, all between pals?”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“Could’ve fooled me, partner. Or did you forget the whole point of spread shots are that they spread?-”

“Cass.” The bite of his name on Reyes’ tongue is sharp, cutting through the rest of his train of thought. Cassidy fell silent in an instant – how could he not? Years of falling into line at his commander’s word didn’t just evaporate. Unlike then, though, Cassidy’s eyes caught more. Like how it seemed to pain the other man to raise his voice like that; how pain in general seemed to rest in his joints. Cassidy knew the feeling – whiskey was a medicine as much as an indulgence, these days – but it was more acute in Reyes body.

….Christ, he needed to change this line of thought before he got called out for thinking too damn loud again. And fast. Not like Reyes was helping with that – with that overdramatic skull-owl mask on, he could read the man even less than before. …Though.

"Well, do I at least get to see your face?" Cassidy said, changing the angle of attack instead as Reyes settled on the other cot. “Y’know, that’s the whole thing about masks. Could be talkin’ to just about anybody right now. And I mean, it’d take a whole lotta dedication to get down the voice, and the talk about you do, and Christ, don’t get me started on the whole everything you’re wearing. But got no proof to the contrary right now. “

The way that Reyes looked him up, down, and then sighed said everything he needed to know. If he was a wise man, Cassidy would of left it there… But god, he had so many questions. And if there was any time to poke the sleeping bear, it’d be now right?

“What’re you huffing for? I’m right, ain’t I? Hell, if I remember right, that’s something you had stamped into the ol’ brain matter before I even came outta basic. Don’t trust nobody at face value – and well, if I can’t see your face? Well, that speaks for itself.”

He could see the way Reyes hissed in a breath, like he was resisting the urge to snap back. (Good.) What he wasn’t expecting though was the almost too-calm way that the man gathered himself together. “….Fine.”

And before Cassidy could consider what the fuck this meant, Reyes was reaching up to his face. Broad fingers felt back under the hood with the dexterity of a motion done a thousand times. The hiss is more startling - was that thing mechanical? He’d hear the sound a hundred times working alongside Genji, but in the same breath as Reyes was altogether more strange. Stranger too was the there-and-gone scent of something saccharine sweet.

But everything about where they are, what’s going on? All momentarily forgotten as finally the mask is lifted up and away - and oh. Oh. Cassidy’s heart stuttered in his chest, forgetting it's job for a moment as he looked upon the unfamiliar, achingly knowable face of a man who’d haunted him for years. There were differences now – god, were there differences - skin gone pallid, the muscle around his mouth scarred in a Glasgow upturn. His eyes were particularly striking; gone were the warm browns like freshly made coffee, instead struck through with a red like blood. There was familiarity to be found too, though – the same cut of his jaw, the cut of his goatee. And of course because it was Gabriel Reyes, who never did anything clearcut, there was something that felt both old and new as well. Long curls fell past his face as Gabriel pulled his hood back, fingers ran carefully through them as they settled on his shoulders. They suited him, Cassidy thought, a quiet little remark to himself alone.

"Surprise." Gabriel said, through slightly too-sharp teeth.

Now Cassidy could see his face, it was easier to see how much this affected Gabriel – the little crease in his brow, the way his gaze into Cassidy’s own was just a little too even. Gabriel didn’t do nervous – nerves got a man killed. There were few other words, though, for the emotion that twitched at the corners of the older man’s mouth. Time to break the ice, then.

"Shit, Moira really did a number on you, huh?" Cassidy cracked, eyes glinting. As he’d hoped, Gabriel snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This isn't all her fault." A pointed raise of the eyebrow from Cassidy made Gabriel's lip quirk. "Alright, smart ass. More than you'd like it to be. But I'm alive."

"That you are," Cassidy replied. “It’s a good look on you.” That gets a smile that crinkles the corner of Gabriel’s eyes – and makes Cassidy’s own heart go double step.

“First time I’ve heard that one in a while.”

“Good to know the folk around you don’t have eyes. Or taste.” It’s something dangerously close to flirtation, spilling from his lips unbidden. For this, Gabriel kept a frustratingly good poker face. (Of course.)

Tearing his eyes away from Gabriel's face for the moment, his eyes settled on the damn mask instead – first as a curiosity, but then closer. From the outside it was easy to dismiss the piece as a fashion statement - this was Gabriel Reyes he was considering after all, the man who saw Halloween as a competitive sport. But being able to see the inside of the mask? It revealed the complex snaking of metal and tubes that coated the inside.

"All that ain't just for show, then?" He asked, gesturing at it. Gabriel's eyes follow Cassidy's hand, flicking over the internal components in the same way he'd once poured over mission plans. Dangerously quick, even now – he wouldn’t expect anything less from the commander.

"Well, like you said cowboy - Moira did 'a number' on me.” Gabriel made lazy bunny ears with one hand, before letting it flop to the bed again. “There's better and worse ways to deal with the pain of all this - don't get the fun side effects of these drugs, but it keeps me on my feet."

"Side effects, you say?"

He's been got hook, line and sinker, Cassidy can already tell - when Gabe's eyes flick to his they seem almost luminous in the low light, the red gleaming with a flash of teeth. Suddenly he feels ten years younger – back at a time where all it’d take was a look to have him raring to go. Even now he can feel the heat flaring in his gut like a match against a strike board.

Gabriel always was his weakness. What’s new?

"Sure. If you haven't got my metabolism, it'd only take a puff or two to get you high, guapo. Better than any weed you could get your hands on." There’re insinuations there - Cassidy knows they remember as well as each other the way work would give way to the ease of each other’s company in the wee hours of the night. A joint passed between them, the thrill of playing chicken with touches and looks. And oh, when it turned to petting? Turned to rutting slow and easy? It was electric to chase the taste of smoke on Gabriel's tongue, not being sure if it was the drugs or the other man's touch that was making his skin prickle more.

He knows he shouldn't follow this thought - he had too many questions, too much unjust anger for the disappearance of this man who was never his - and yet skin hunger has haunted him almost as long as Gabriel has. (Cassidy is many things – but above all, he is only human.)

"That a theory, or an offer?" Cassidy drawled, eyes flicking up and down Gabriel's body in a way he never would of chanced back in Blackwatch. Instead of a reply, Gabriel picked up the mask, holding it out in front of him like a golden ticket. The way his eyes darked while doing it though? It perhaps betrayed how benevolent Gabriel was really being with all of this.

"Hold it to your face. I think you can figure it out from there, pup." Gabriel's voice was already dipping lower, scratching rough around the edges in a way that sent heat down Cassidy’s spine. He knew he should think this through more – for fuck’s sake, he didn’t know what the drug inside those pipes would do to him. It didn’t stop him though from lifting the mask to his face, peripherals going dark as it enclosed his sightlines. Quickly he felt the mask's edges conforming to his face - nanites? Bio responsive rubber? He couldn't find it in himself to care - especially as he realised how intensely Gabriel was watching him at this moment. Red eyes, bright and so vividly hungry. It was more than enough inspiration to lock eyes with Gabriel through the mask - and take one long, deep breath.

He could hear it happen; some unseen catch clicking open, gas hissing through the pipes he’d seen only moments before, and the smoke flooding into his mouth, sweet and damning. It was quickly drawn over his tongue, down into his throat like the most wicked of nicotine – the taste of it is something he ants to chase on its’ own. There's a sweetness to it, saccharine and inviting, but something else to it too. A crispness bordering on the medicinal without going too far, almost mint-like in flavor.

It’s distracting enough he doesn’t notice the first effects straight away - his shoulders catching from around his ears, him sinking just a bit into the cot underneath him. The tension of the reunion seemed to seep out with each passing moment of this drug seeping into his veins. And oh, wasn’t this all dangerous?

Without realising it, Cassidy found himself breathing deeper, deeper, like he could get the smoke to curl around the depths of his lungs and live there. It’d be worth it to see that look perpetually live on Gabriel’s face – mouth slightly open, eyes laser focused. Gabe had always had a look that felt like it stripped him back and lay him bare. Once it'd made Cassidy nervous in a way few things could. Now it just made his legs fall open as he finally exhaled, drawing the mask off to breathe out the plume towards the ceiling.

When he tried to hand back the mask though, Gabriel's eyes seemed to pin him where he sat..

"Actually, I think you can do that again. Can't you, Cass?"

Suddenly he's oh so aware of the weight of the mask in his hand, the weight of the gaze that sat on him like it'd never left, the weight of his hardening cock against his thigh. With a mouth gone dry he couldn't help but nod.

"...Yes, sir."

"Good boy."

And oh, the praise hit him like a shot of liquor – and he could see Gabriel knew it. Cassidy couldn’t bring himself to care though - not when his world has narrowed to him, Gabe and the mask in his hand weighed like a promise. With anticipation as potent of a drug as whatever the hell Gabe was having him breathe, Cassidy lifted the mask to his face again. Once again, the rubber latched to his face, once again he breathed deep of the sweet smoke. This time, he could almost feel the way that the smoke seeped in between his muscle fibers, how it curled in his temples to make his vision swim. His exhale came alongside a soft groan, teeth dragging over his lower lip as he tried to center himself within this heady, sudden high.

"Good?" Cassidy goaded after a few moments, smile wide and cheeky. The high was intense, but pleasant. If this was any other time, any other situation, this is when he would have put down the blunt and sunk into the couch for a while to contemplate his thoughts and how they flickered individually by. Gabriel didn’t look even close to finished with him, though.

"Not yet," the older man replied - Cassidy realised with a start that Gabriel's fingers were flexing in and out of the blanket on the cot he say on, the claws of his gloves have cut neat little holes into the wool. It was as if he’d needed to cut into the blanket to stop doing the same to Cassidy – and oh, wasn’t that an intoxicating thought all on its own? He couldn't help but imagine feel the cool metal along his skin, thumbing at his lips to part them, curling around his neck to squeeze. "Go on. Another one."

Cassidy couldn't help it - he whimpered as he brought the mask up to his face once more. It felt like it wasn't even his hand moving it, anymore - like he couldn't stop himself if he tried, like it wasn’t really him who had decided to flood his lungs once more with smoke. And oh, this time he could feel how it all went straight to his cock, making it flex and ache against his zipper as the drug dragged him down, down, down. His mouth felt so unfairly empty, his pants too tight-

-Which was a problem only made worse as he felt another hand on top of his, holding the mask to his face with force. Cassidy’s sharp inhale from shock was done straight into the mask too, making his head spin all the more as time seemed to stretch and twist out before him. When had he been pushed back onto the cot? When had his shoulders hit the blankets? All that he knew for sure was that the look on Gabe's face was positively predatory.

He knew there was no way for the other man to see that shock scrawled onto his face, how it melted into helpless arousal as Gabe straddled his hips. The triumphant grin on the other man’s face though as their hard cocks pressed together through leather and denim though? Oh, that made Cassidy more than convinced that Gabriel knew exactly the effect he was having.

"Again."

With his limbs like rubber Cassidy couldn't help but obey, pulling the smoke into his lungs like it was a lifeline. The way he rutted up against Gabriel was purely instinctual at this point - though trying to stop himself from rolling his hips up over and over was as futile as trying to stop the ocean's tides. Each moan came easier than the one before as his finger buried themselves into Gabriel’s thighs. With each breath the world became a bit more liquid, time seeming to stretch and twist like taffy as his arousal swallowed any higher brain function he had left.

Cassidy wasn't sure when his pants came off. He'd felt the scratch of Gabriel's claws against his thighs - he'd taken his gloves off, right? Maybe it was the drugs, but the face in front of him seem to warp - when the mask was lifted off Cassidy's face he swore Gabriel’s had shifted, the scarring at the other man’s mouth splitting open to reveal teeth stretching impossibly back. And was that one pair of eyes or two? Maybe even three, splitting the skin of his face and nestling in his hairline?

He should have cared more, should have forced himself to care more - but all he could bring himself to care about was if Gabriel wanted this. Wanted him with all the force that Cassidy wanted him in return. And oh, did the intensity of that gaze, the hands across his body speak to that desperately. When finally those fingers wrapped around his cock he couldn’t help but keen at the sensation of it all – god, was he already that close to the edge? The strokes were slow and steady, eased by his pre-come alone. Any attempt to look at the sight for himself though failed – his eyes were too hazy to focus on anything else but the glowing red of the gaze above him.

"There you go, Cassidy," and oh, Gabriel’s voice was wrecked – low and husky, scraped through in a way that made him throb. Lisped slightly as well – in his fucked-out state Cassidy couldn’t figure out if that was because of the jagged mess of teeth, or the long tongue he could see flicking out of the other man’s mouth. Whichever it was, it wasn’t stopping the filth that tumbled out of Gabriel’s mouth unbidden, thoughts that were only drilled further into his mind by the slow rock of Gabriel’s hips against his own.

“Been waiting such a long time to see you like this again. You look so good wrecked – I wish you could see yourself. Would keep you like this for days if I could – fuck your mouth until you craved it, made sure you never forgot the shape of me inside you. Fuck. Such a good fucking boy."

Cassidy couldn't stop his orgasm from crashing over him if he tried. -x- My Ko-Fi!

#ow fanfic #overwatch fanfic #mcreaper #mcreyes #reysidy #tfw you only just find out about the new ship name for your favorite blorbos #tbf its been like 5 years since i was active in the fandom #crawls out of my dark internet hole to present smut to the masses #its been like 5 years since ive posted fic so honestly as long as somebody enjoys it ill be happy lmao

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zorritoenllamas · 2 years ago

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Birthday Gift [ Quincy x Olivine ]

Warnings: Top Quincy, Bottom Olivine, NSFW, Explicit content. Just Olivine getting his birthday gift from Quincy ;)

You've been warned ;)

"Olivine, your bottom looks as flashy as ever, but would you please go sit the hell down?"

The young auburn man spoke to the priest from behind, who was bent over moving some logs in the fireplace to keep the fire burning, offering his rear end to public view. At the unsubtle comment, his cheeks reddened, embarrassed. By now he should be used to the Grand Sorcerer's ways, but somehow, Eiden still managed to make him blush. He was so blunt...

"Eiden!" he reproached him fondly, as if to a child, followed by a chuckle. He didn't mind that kind of comment coming from someone as close to him. "I'm sorry, I... I'm not used to..."

"I know, everyone knows that, but the main idea of all this was precisely to be able to make a celebration for you", Eiden frowned a little and folded his arms. It was the eve of Olivine's birthday, and all the clan members had made an effort to gather that night to celebrate together. "You haven't stopped helping with everything, even though I explicitly asked you not to.... Come on, even Kuya and Quincy came! You don't even want to imagine what I had to do to get those two to attend", the chestnut felt a shiver run down his back.

Quincy hadn't complained too much, promising him a comfortable place to sleep and dried meat for Topper had been enough to persuade him. Kuya, on the other hand...

"Oh? I could have sworn I just heard my name landing on your lips, young Master...", as if materializing out of nowhere, a thin man accompanied by a strong smell of incense appeared leaning against the wall where the fireplace was recessed. "Kuya! God, someday you're going to kill me with a heart attack", Eiden put a hand to his chest, he had indeed been startled. His reaction made the yokai smile with delight.

"Young Master, anyone listening to you might think my presence is becoming a threat to you...", he paused for a moment to chuckle with satisfaction. "It is not to my liking to interrupt other people's conversations, even if they are about myself, but.... Certain characters are becoming incredibly irritating...", still slurring his words and with his usual bored tone, Kuya directed his gaze towards the center of the room.

The huge table was overflowing with food, a veritable feast. Aster had spared no expense. The cooks had put special care into Olivine's favorite dishes, following the list that Eiden had personally given them after asking all the priests of the church what food the Father usually preferred. It had been a nice surprise for the olive-haired young man.

At the end that was closest to the fireplace....

"Not yet, Father Olivine must be the first to taste everything", Yakumo was interposing himself between the table in front of Karu and Blade, arms outstretched. The wolf boy was visibly salivating, ready to jump on top of the desserts at any moment, while the e-droid had his arms full of jars with various types of spices and sweeteners, "but little Yakumo, the last book I read clearly said that to make your meals tastier, you have to give them explosive contrasts of flavors! Look! Little Rei was kind enough to give it to me so you could read it too!" he said, smiling charmingly as always, as he waved the blissful book in front of the young chef's face. Nearby, the alluded one watched the scene with interest, as he offered pieces of candy to the owl on his shoulder, who was also watching expectantly.

Meanwhile, at the other end...

"Idiot incubus! That's not how birthday cakes work!", Aster was reprimanding Morvay, accompanied by Edmond and Dante, who had apparently commandeered a small vial containing a bright, pink liquid of unknown provenance. "I just want to help! Everybody knows that a little bit of incubus essence is more than enough to light things up a bit, so the party will be more fun!", the young incubus was arguing as he tried to take the vial from the hands of Dante, who was holding it firmly over his head. Edmond only sighed, clutching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb.

Eiden and Olivine understood at once the urgency of the situation.

"Alright, let's not keep them waiting any longer", the priest immediately joined them, heading towards the head of the table. The place of honor. He was a little embarrassed to sit there in front of everyone, but Eiden had urged him to agree to have a little more of the limelight for once, for a change. The celebration was for him, after all.

Once he was seated, everyone took their places one by one. Looks of anticipation, others hungry and others bored, but all with a certain warmth that was impossible to hide in its entirety. He could even recognize a distinct gleam in the eyes of a certain bird who was also seated at the table next to his usual companion. They were all present...

Everyone?

"Does anyone know where the hell Quincy is?", the Grand Sorcerer looked all around the room unable to find the huge hermit or his furry companion. "I saw him leave in the direction of the kitchen? Perhaps he went to steal my food taking advantage of the fact that I was distracted?", Karu mumbled fully audibly, grunting in the process. "Of course not, Quincy wouldn't do that, he was probably just looking for a quieter place to sleep", Eiden shook his head. After all, he understood that the hubbub of the other members could be a nuisance to the blond who was used to the peaceful and undisturbed silence of his cabin in the woods. "Okay, get started, I'll go after him and be back in a few minutes", the chestnut added. "I'll go", Olivine interrupted him with his usual warm smile, grabbing his arm just in time to prevent him from getting up. "Oh? No need, you're the guest of honor. I'll just go and hurry back---", "Eiden", the priest spoke again, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze before releasing him. His tone was as gentle as ever, but at the same time, he spoke with enough authority that no one dared to contradict him. "I'll go. I'll be right back, please eat", he stood up leaving the boy somewhat confused. "Okay, we'll wait here", he finally replied. The other members started eating, all except Kuya, who just watched the scene while arching one of his eyebrows thoughtfully.

"It's only a few minutes to midnight! We'll wait for you, Olivine!", Eiden shouted at his back, and it was the last thing the priest heard before closing the door behind him.

The father made his way to the kitchen, quickly descending to the second floor. In the last stretch, where there was only a long, earthenware-floored tunnel, the echo of his footsteps thundered loudly against the bare walls. There were several doors on the sides, as the castle had many cellars for food, wine, and other things Olivine did not know about. Everything was lit by large hanging candle chandeliers, and a couple of lanterns in the corners of the passageways that led to the other storerooms.

He looked to the sides, searching. Not a soul was to be seen.

He headed for the last door at the end of the hallway, the kitchen door, when he suddenly felt a strong grip wrap around his waist and a hand on his lips. In less than a second, his feet were off the floor, and a tall, warm body crushed him against the cold stone wall, depositing him on the floor again. Air escaped his lungs as his back hit the wall.

Strong, calloused hands slipped through his clothes, taking advantage of the slit in his suit at the level of his abdomen, touching every inch of his exposed skin as much as they could, eliciting several gasps from him. When the volume of these began to rise, his lips were silenced with a hungry kiss, and much rougher than he expected. Olivine could immediately feel his member hardening, instantly dampening his underwear at the brutality with which he was being treated. He had been waiting for this moment for days.

"You were taking too long", a deep, rapping voice said between kisses to the young priest. The man in front of him brought his lips to his right ear, biting his lobe, wrenching a moan of pleasure from him. "Eiden said... You didn't want to come", Olivine rested his chin on the blond's shoulder, smiling. "And he's right. How much time do we have?", Quincy asked him in a whisper, causing Olivine's legs to tremble with excitement. "Long enough", the father answered him, entwining his fingers in his blond hair, tugging his head up to kiss him once more.

They kissed deeply, biting their lips from time to time. Strands of saliva soon slid down the corners of the priest's mouth, who wrapped his arms around the man, rubbing against him in desperation. He could feel his whole body boiling, clouding his good judgment and making him completely forget where they were, that someone could discover them at any moment, or that his moans could easily be heard.

Honestly, he didn't care too much.

"So impatient...", Quincy bent down a little, just enough to reach for Olivine's ass with his hands and squeeze his buttocks, gripping it firmly. "Ah... Quincy, please...", the priest looked up at him pleadingly, depositing kisses on his chin, following the line of his jaw, "please," he repeated again, as he licked along the skin of his neck. This time, it was the blond's turn to let out a hoarse moan. Who was he to refuse in the face of such a plea? "Come here", the man lifted him up easily, letting his legs wrap around his waist, and opened one of the hallway doors, stepping into the nearest cellar.

Inside the room were many barrels of different liquors, a wooden table in the center, and a few shelves with cookbooks. The smell of wine sweetened the atmosphere just enough, without being a nuisance.

Quincy closed the door, leaving the warehouse in almost total darkness except for the moonlight that was filtering through the only window in the place, located at the top of the wall.

Carefully, he set his companion down on the table, which creaked under the young man's weight. The halo coming through the window reached directly over the father's green eyes, making them resemble a pair of sparkling emeralds. The priest was so beautiful that it left Quincy speechless at his beauty, even though the man himself was not particularly talkative. Noticing the older man's scrutiny, Olivine smiled tenderly and contentedly. The blond's intense gaze could say and hide many things, but the immense respect and admiration with which he always watched him stole his breath every time.

The older man moved closer to the young one, kissing his jaw, tracing a path of kisses down to the base of his neck, causing Olivine to sigh in pleasure. "Topper?", he asked, as he wrapped his arms around the blond's shoulders. "With the others", it was more of a grunt than a murmur. Quincy didn't like to talk more than necessary. The young one grinned again. He found the hermit's moodiness adorable.

The priest opened his jacket and shirt, exposing his chest and his trademark piercings. Quncy didn't need any extra prompting. As soon as he had access, he used his hands to willingly caress the young man's bulging pecs, fiddling with the chains that linked his nipples to the gem of his abdomen. "Ah... Yes, like that...", Olivine bit his lip as he watched his companion. His body was sensitive, but his reactions to this man in particular made him feel like he could melt at any moment. They continued like this for a few more minutes, amid moans and pleas escaping the lips of the younger man, who grew more desperate with each passing second.

"Ah... Quincy...?", the blond was sucking on one of Olivine's nipples, delighting in its soft touch, however he stopped when he heard the young man's tone. Something was bothering him, his tone gave it away.... Or it could be that Quincy already knew him too well to notice such subtleties. He paused his caresses, to concentrate on watching his expression, and waited.

"You... What Eiden said...", the Father averted his eyes, staring at the floor. What Eiden had said? What had the little devil said? Quincy could no longer remember.... "About you not wanting to come...", the priest felt like a teenager, but he couldn't help but ask; He'd rather ask than be left in doubt. If he really didn't want to be there... "Did you really mean---? Mmmh!", he didn't manage to finish the sentence, as the man had pinched his two nipples hard at the same time.

The man grabbed him roughly, lifting him off the table to turn him over and leave his abdomen resting against the cold surface. He didn't give him time to react, as a sharp smack on the priest's ass made him shudder, trying to stifle the cry of pleasure that threatened to escape his throat. "That's enough", Quincy bent over him so he could unbutton his pants, yanking them down along with his underwear. Olivine's erection bounced embarrassingly, bumping against the table. The blond took his time to admire the firm buttocks in front of him, so majestic that they made him believe that there must definitely be some deity capable of creating such a marvel.

The only thing that could be heard in the midst of the silence was the gasping breath of the priest, who waited obediently, helpless and exposed. That feeling of being the prey captured by a predator, totally at the expense of whatever Quincy wanted to do with him, turned him on to levels he had never known before, completely forgetting the talk they were having. The man was a perfect sexual match, without ever needing to have asked him for anything, absolutely nothing. They had complemented each other like two puzzle pieces from the start.

The sound of another spank and another muffled cry cut through the silence like a sword. "Quin...cy...", Olivine looked back, his eyes watering and his tongue hanging out of his mouth, lasciviously, expectantly. "Please, please...", he rubbed his legs together, wiggling his ass, inviting the man to take him at once. How was it possible for a priest to be so devilishly sensual? Quincy certainly had had a long time in his life to bring his stoicism to bear in the face of all sorts of events, but there was something about the young man that managed to awaken his purest and deepest animal instincts. "Spread them apart with your hands", he commanded. The father groaned and immediately grasped his buttocks firmly, doing as he had been instructed, embarrassed and even more aroused, if that was possible.

His entrance was already glistening with essence, fully moistened and dilated.

"A man of God shouldn't behave like a whore in heat", Quincy slipped one of his fingers in without warning, causing Olivine to arch his back and lift his ass even higher. "Ahh... the God... of Klein.... will forgive my sins...", needing no further action, the priest began to move back and forth slowly, impaling himself around the blond's index finger as deep as he could, moaning sonorously with each movement.

Quincy's erection, which was already throbbing painfully inside his pants, seemed to reach a new level of thickness as he watched the father's lustful actions. His moans were increasing, and the blond hadn't even moved. With his free hand, the man delivered one more spank, grabbing his ass to keep him from moving, ignoring his whimpers. "Hold still", he knew they didn't have time, but he couldn't help but provoke him as much as he could. It took a moment, but Olivine again obeyed the command.

As soon as he calmed down, Quincy inserted another of his fingers, beginning a torturously slow back-and-forth motion. "Ahhh, Quin... cy...", Olivine was dying to increase the pace, but he knew that if he moved the man would stop on the spot. "Quincy, Quincy...", he repeated like a mantra, like the prayers he repeated every morning upon waking to thank the God of Klein for the gift of a new day. The hermit continued, unchanging, leisurely.

By the time he inserted his third finger, the priest's anus was already beginning to leak obscenely. Quincy was purposefully avoiding his most sensitive spot, and Olivine felt that at any moment he was going to explode. "Please... Please, I'm going to... I'm going to...", his companion briefly caressed his ass, trying to calm him down a bit. "Just a little more", he murmured, keeping the same leisurely pace. He too was reaching his limit, but it wasn't time yet.

The priest had already released his buttocks and was clinging to the table as best he could, his voice breaking into long, vibrating moans. A small pool of saliva had formed where his chin touched the wood. Quincy had played with him for hours before, so he knew perfectly well that the man could take all the time in the world until he was satisfied with his actions. On a normal day, Olivine thought those qualities in his partner were like a blessing straight from heaven. But now they were somewhere else, and worse, the other members of the clan were waiting for his return. How long had it been since he had left the dining hall? Would they send someone to look for them?, anyone who came a little closer could spot them right away thanks to the moans of his Holiness.

Suddenly, the quiet of the night was interrupted by a loud ringing bell.

The church tower, far away, announced that it was midnight.

Quincy withdrew his fingers immediately and, without further ado, unbuttoned his pants, pulling out his member and positioning his glans against the young man's entrance.

When the bell rang again, Quincy penetrated Olivine's rear with a single movement, working his way between his tight buttocks. The father screamed at the top of his lungs in surprise, feeling like he was going to split in half. The blond was huge, and although they had been through this many times in the past, the young man thought he could never quite get used to it.

Quincy didn't give him a second to catch his breath. The man began to lunge furiously at the priest's anus, abusing it as much as he wanted, while the chimes continued to echo off the walls.

"Coming here... it's troublesome", he gasped, feeling that he would soon be hit by his orgasm as well as the young father, who seemed on the verge of cumming. "It's troublesome", he repeated, "but you.... You're not... Don't forget that...", he rammed him hard, punctuating each sentence with a new thrust. Olivine had leaned completely against the table, no longer able to hold back his cries at all, which echoed in tandem with the bells. His mind was totally seized by the sensations of pleasure, unable to respond to Quincy's words.

They continued like this until the clock announced twelve bells, making Olivine's birthday official. Quincy quickened the pace as much as he could, and the priest moaned out his name with relish as he was, at last, pounded hard by his orgasm. Before long, the blond also climaxed, filling Olivine with waves of hot semen. Soon, both men found themselves panting to catch their breath, one on top of the other, the older being careful not to deposit his full weight on the father so as not to crush him.

Silence once again reigned in the basement, only being interrupted by their breaths.

Seconds, minutes passed, until finally Olivine managed to regain enough composure to speak with a trickle of voice. "That was... the best birthday present...", he laughed with effort, still struggling to resume calmer breathing. Quincy didn't respond, but deposited a kiss on the back of the young man's neck.

They allowed themselves a few more moments to enjoy each other's company, the warmth post termination, until reality was inevitably crashing down on the priest's shoulders. They needed to return as soon as possible... Not without first making a brief and much needed stop in the restroom...

Promising himself that he would return to clean everything properly before the night was over, the priest turned his face to meet the hermit's, catching his lips in a kiss, before starting to move.

_______________________________________

"Olivine, where the hell had you been, we were just about to go out and look for you guys! Kuya's been commenting on strange things since you left...", Eiden had been going around in circles for the last 20 minutes, debating whether they should go find the priest before eating the cake, seriously doubting several of the diners' capacity for self-control at that point in the evening. The alcohol had taken its toll on most of the guests, and the Grand Sorcerer was no exception. "Eiden, I'm so sorry, I couldn't find Mr. Quincy and he ended up finding me, I have yet to fully memorize the mansion...", Olivine apologized, feeling somewhat guilty. He could see out of the corner of his eye a speck of white hair approaching at full speed, dodging everyone present, giving little squeals of excitement.

Topper circled him and quickly climbed onto his shoulders, rubbing his head against the priest excitedly. Olivine stroked him gently behind the ears, feeling tender at the animal's obvious show of affection. "No, don't apologize, it's just that it's past midnight and.... Quincy, you just got here!" the chestnut exclaimed in exasperation. The blond had ignored the entire crowd to go lean back in one of the plush lounge chairs, automatically closing his eyes. "He's so inconsiderate", the young man added, embracing the father by his shoulders effusively, to lead him towards the table. "Come, come, you have many presents to open!", he told him with his usual infectious smile. "Presents?", the priest asked curiously.

In the middle of the table was a small pile of gifts. In the distance, Olivine could recognize a stylized handwriting that undoubtedly belonged to Edmond. The brightly wrapped package with a bunch of different ribbons had to be from Blade. Another with a visible homely touch bore Yakumo's aura all over it. And so, he identified one by one, without needing to open them, including one with a notoriously violet color scheme, and another that came adorned with an owl feather. His heart was softened. "Eiden, it wasn't necessary...", "we knew you'd say that, but we did it anyway. Here!", he offered him a package accompanied with an envelope, a letter. "This one is from me. It's not much, but I can assure you I put my all into it", he told him before hugging him warmly.

Olivine was about to take the gift, when Topper jumped on him again. He was carrying something in his muzzle. The priest reached out to take the package.

It was a box wrapped in a simple dark green cloth, which gave off a pleasant smell of herbs. He didn't think about it for a second and opened it.

Inside he found a small talisman, very rustic, with intricate leather and vine designs, adorned with a tiny hand-carved wooden figure. It was a bear.

"Oh? Is that...?", Eiden glared at it, approaching the talisman for a closer look. Olivine could only smile, as he turned his gaze to the other end of the room, from where Quincy watched the scene silently.

Their gazes met, and the man smiled at him before closing his eyes again to drift off to sleep. Feeling like he was floating again, Olivine struggled to return to the real world. He could thank him properly later.

This had definitely been the most beautiful birthday he had ever had in his life.

#fanfiction #fanfic #quinoli #quincy #olivine #nu carnival #nucani #zorritoenllamas

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marzmeltdown · 2 years ago

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Familiar Taste of Poison - PT 2

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: fluff,, angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW:Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, mentions of depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, a lot of this will be in multiple pov's(I will clarify when it changes pov's), some mention of being sick, swearing, ⌦ Word count: 1.39k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ I have attached a link to a website with help hotlines around the world, this series has heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse. This link will be added to every chapter.⌦ International Mental Health hotlines ⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ (Wonwoo's POV) Wonwoo hadn't heard from you for a few days after you had called him for help, and to be honest, he wasn't too upset about it. Not that he didn't enjoy your company, or your friendship for that matter, but because he'd finally accepted his worth when it came to your relationship. So to say he was surprised to hear from you on a Wednesday afternoon before 5:00 p.m. was nothing short of an understatement.

Wonwoo glanced down at his phone when it began to ring, seeing the caller ID of the two of you in some goofy pose with your name at the top being displayed on the screen. He paused the video game he was playing and answered the phone, leaning back in his gaming chair, preparing himself to have to roleplay as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

"Hey, y/n, what's up?" He asked, pushing his keyboard farther up the desk so he could play with the corners of the mouse pad he used to decorate his desk.

"Hey, Wonwoo, are you busy?" You asked. It was odd that Wonwoo's packed schedule had suddenly become a cause for concern, but for once he was free. Wonwoo had to move the phone from his ear to double check who had called him, and just as he suspected, the caller ID was his childhood nickname for you.

"Uh, I'm just playing a video game at the moment; why?" He asked once he had placed the phone back to his ear. His heart began pounding like a drum as his mind began to wander to the multiple scenarios that you could have found yourself in. Most, if not all of them, were related to being cross-faded and stranded at some party in the early hours of the morning. At one point, he almost asked you to move in with him because he had picked you up so much.

"My parents have pissed me off, and I just need to get my mind off things." You sighed, and he chewed on his bottom lip as he thought, should he get involved this time? Or should he let you fall on your face? Who was he kidding? He was always going to be your knight in shining armor.

"Okay, I can be there in like 30 minutes," he said, knowing he would be getting an earful from you about how your parents don't know what you're talking about and that it's 'not alcoholism until you graduate college.' Which is probably the most confusing thing Wonwoo has ever had the displeasure of hearing; obviously, you as well as everyone else knew that wasn't how that worked. But he wasn't there to be your therapist; his job was to be the shoulder you cry on regardless of the time of day, or night, rather.

"Awesome, I'll be in the backyard when you get here. If I have to hear my dad compare my lifestyle to one of his patients one more time, I think I might combust," you said, the sound of a sliding glass door opening and shutting following shortly behind your voice.

"I don't think you'll combust," Wonwoo laughed, turning off his PC as he got around to leave.

"I just might," you joked, making an explosion noise with your mouth to emphasize your point, to which Wonwoo replied with another laugh.

"Whatever, I'll be there soon," Wonwoo said before hanging up the phone.

⌦ (Reader's POV) Waiting for your best friend to show up had to be the longest 30 minutes of your life. You had decided to occupy yourself by pulling pieces off gras out of the ground only to toss them right next to where they had once lived unprovoked. It was barely 5:00 pm and you were already buzzed, if you had to be honest, there almost never was a time where you were sober.

That was a thought you pushed out of your head as soon as you heard your mother's screaming voice announcing Wonwoo's presence. You snapped your head up from the patch of grass you were ruthlessly attacking and to your childhood best friend, he smiled softly and sat next to you.

"Are you okay?" Wonwoo whispered, knowing your mother was only an ear shot away. She had always been within earshot of the two of you from the day you two met in the fifth grade and he had come over for your eleventh birthday party.

"I'll be better when we get out of here," you whispered back, wiping any stray pieces of grass and dirt from your hands as you stood and doing the same to the back of your pants. Judging by your glossed-over eyes, uneven balance, and slurred words, Wonwoo could tell that your parents concerns were valid.

"Alright, do you have any places in mind?" Wonwoo asked, following your actions. You didn't have any plans in mind; you almost never did. Everything you did was spontaneous, which is part of the reason why you had only one reliable friend. If you could call him a friend, for that matter.

You weren't sure why Wonwoo had insisted on holding your elbow as he walked you to your car, you were perfectly fine to your knowledge at least.

"We should get ice cream and then go back to your house," you suggested after Wonwoo had started driving.

Wonwoo didn't say anything as he drove to a small ice cream parlor in town. The parlor had been open since you two were knee-high to a grasshopper. Your order had been the same since you were five: a small twist with a cone in a cup and sprinkles. Wonwoo always gave you a funny look when you ordered such a childish form of the desert, but you'd rather order what you enjoy than a plain chocolate shake.

You were on ice cream-holding duty, following Wonwoo to a picnic table that sat under an old oak tree.

"So, are you going to tell me why your parents made you upset, or am I supposed to guess?" Wonwoo asked as soon as the both of you sat down. You looked at him for a moment, almost taken aback by his bluntness. He sipped on his milkshake for a moment, awaiting your answer.

"Uh, my parents' are concerned about how much I party." You said it softly, looking down at your rainbow-sprinkled ice cream and moving the spoon around to mix the sprinkles in with the ice cream.

"And?" He asked again.

"I told them I didn't need to go; I don't have a problem," you said, looking up from your ice cream and back to your best friend. "Do you think I have a problem?"

"When has my opinion ever mattered?" He asked, and his words felt sharp against your chest. You'd grown used to having friends that encouraged your destructive behavior, so the honesty was a shock of reality.

"What's that mean?" You asked, and your body started to tremble with irritation.

"I'm just saying, ever since we decided to go to separate colleges, my opinion holds no value to you anymore," he shrugged, poking his straw around the inside of his cup in order to loosen up some of the ice cream that was still too thick to flow through the straw easily.

"I care about your opinion!" You said you were offended that he thought that. Why would he think that? His opinion has always meant so much to you.

"When it's what you want to hear," he said, his voice still so calm, which only irritated you more. How could he be so calm in this situation?

You decided you had enough of Wonwoo's third degree, furiously standing up to storm off. You'd gotten halfway to the parking lot before stalking your angry self back to the picnic table. You snatched the ice cream cup from the table and turned around without a word, continuing your journey to, well, wherever you ended up.

You grabbed your phone from your back pocket, opening the messaging app and then the group chat you had with some college friends. You already had a message from them.

⌦ Yejun: Wanna go out tonight? (read 4:29 pm)

⌦ You: Yea, we can get ready at my place (read 4:30 pm)

⌦ Yujin: Great, we'll meet you there. (read 4:32 pm)

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hoperevive · 1 year ago

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@animafcrged said, " i know this thing's got you all twisted up , but try to forgive yourself . "

halston had been in the city long enough to know what to and not to do in order to keep herself safe. walking down the street in the middle of the night because she had a sweet tooth was certainly in the column of things not to do. confidence pushed her forward, though. she had magic, she thought to herself. anything or anyone that got in her way could be pushed away with a simple thought. easy peasy, right?

not right.

" i'm just kicking myself because i know better. " both hands were shaking as she tried to reach out. skin to skin contact would help her breathe, if only she had the strength to calm down long enough to get it. even though she'd gotten back home about an hour prior, her heart hadn't stopped hammering. it was also still stuck at the bottom of her stomach.

" and, it's not like i don't have ice cream bars in the freezer. i figured, " halston shakes her head. " i figured i could protect myself or walk fast enough to and from the store. stupid. " she stopped trying to reach out for victor's hand and, instead, started thumping her own forehead.

" but, that gun got shoved in my face and i just panicked. everything i've ever learned about magical and mundane self defense just poof, " both hands mimic the cloud of an explosion. several tears surprised her by rolling down her cheeks.

saying the words had all the memories come rushing back. not only the mask but the yelling and that first shot into the ceiling just to scare everyone. a sob choked out, bringing both hands up to her face. " i'm sorry, " halston forced out when she calmed enough to string the words together. " it's so late. i shouldn't have called you but the first thing i wanted when i got home was to hear your voice. "

#˗ˏˋ ♥ ———— answer .#˗ˏˋ ♥ ———— main verse .#animafcrged

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xavier-elrose · 2 years ago

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Look, things used to be different.

Life was brutal. Life was unpleasant. Life was short. Death caught people by surprise, but...it also kinda didn't, y'know? People were rarely far from death. It was said that you weren't *truly* a mother until you'd lost a child.

Death came as a relief to people, at least a little bit, and the news that the afterlife was hard and brutal wasn't *news*. They'd often *hoped* for a blessed hereafter, but very few actually *expected* one. Having to earn your way into eternal bliss by building a society from the bottom of the tech tree, with nothing but copies of yourself who weren't *aware* that they were all copies was a lot of work, but it wasn't all that different, for most people.

Also, it must be said that, with there being far fewer people, far fewer people were dying. No one ever seems to consider the impact a population explosion has on the gods.

That's how it *was*.

The change was slow, at first. Productive as it was, the industrial revolution was actually a step backwards for a lot of people, when it came to quality of life. There were more rich idiots who'd been passively expecting the afterlife to be as easy as their life on Earth had been, but there'd always been idiots like that. A few more made little difference, no matter how comically entitled they were, now.

All the same, my job got harder.

I didn't notice at first. When you're a force of nature, a deity, or whatever else you elect to call yourself, you think of yourself as limitless, as infinite. That's kinda what deity *means*.

Except I'm not.

It took a while to notice, but I'm *really* not.

A few more rich assholes meant that my job was a bit harder, but not by *that* much. My job is to ferry them to the afterlife, to accompany them on their emotional transition from whatever their life was like to a blank slate of an environment, waiting for them to begin the very, *very* long process of making civilization.

You don't get to be a rich asshole without at least a *little* bit of stubbornness. They were heavy individually, but still a small portion of my overall job. I lived outside of time and space, and assumed that I would always have all I needed, to continue my work.

But then ordinary people started living easier lives.

Still not even within spitting distance of *all*, but...enough. Population growth meant that what had once been a trickle of water had become a creek, a river, and finally a great and unending tide.

And so many of them were so hard to carry.

Once upon a time the difficult ones had been rare. Now they were common, and growing commoner. No one was truly *easy* any more, and there were unending hordes of those who had never in their life had to go without things that were about to become unimaginable luxuries.

I have to live the transition with them, over and over and over again. And though I'm mostly outside of time, I'm growing *stretched*. There used to be entire *hours* where I needn't escort anyone, and now it's getting rarer and rarer that I have a whole *minute* to myself.

Gods, it turns out, need rest just as much as humans do.

I march on, scythe in hand. There's work to be done, and no one else to do it. I am still a god, and I will not shirk my duty, nor crack under the pressure.

It turns out gods can also lie to themselves.

I guided human after human to their afterlives, enduring devastating emotional blow after devastating emotional blow. But I was strong. I was powerful. I was above fatigue, and failure, and weakness.

Until one day I saw a human before me, and I simply wasn't any more.

With no rest, no respite, no end in sight, I broke down and I cried.

You turn from the limp, still-warm body that used to be yours. The black-hooded figure beside you breaks into tears. “I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing this.”, they say.

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thatguypen-blog · 19 days ago

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So I'm a beginner writer and I just want to get better so I need the maximum opinions and advice possible.

During the last month an event ‘shook’ the world for a slight moment. Concern, paranoia and mild inconvenience for the ten minutes or so that it happened. It could have been worse really and I halfheartedly wish that it has been. It was very anticlimactic actually for how rare of an event it was.

It must have been in January or the end of it when social media and the sky lit up in the south of India. A meteor split the sky and landed 6 kilometers from Kovalam. And videos appeared all other the web but strangely enough it did not catch up as I thought it was. Most news outlets only mentioned how it appeared, showed a few videos and how the object was then retrieved by the coast guards. And it was then totally forgotten until recently. What shook me however was the sound it made. It was the most common topic that people were talking about. This and its shape. It looked like a flame. No real shape, a metal like appearance of oxide bronze at the tips and a silvery color at its round bottom.

It was given a number and further research was being made. I guess to understand it’s constitution. But for me, when I saw the video. This sound that it made was so strange. And before it was officially named, social media had dubbed it the ‘Bhajan’ which I guess was a religious Indian song. And that was the best way of describing it. A song. A constant whistling with what I could only describe as drums going off. I swear I could even hear what sounded like flutes when it was coming down and of course the finally. It did not sound like an explosion or an impact in the traditional way. It sounded like a tuning fork being struck if I had to describe it. And it lasted for a few seconds. It was so intriguing but only a few people were curious of it surprised me. Why were so little people caring about something like that. A niche community grouping up on online forums to discuss it.

And theories flared. A government project to hypnotize the people which went wrong. A message from the gods to announce a great catastrophe that was about to occur. Part of a way bigger object that was barreling towards us. But apparently the real explanation to it was way simpler than that. They were all just coincidences. When it entered the atmosphere, the sturdier metal resisted the heat with the softer material melting away. Which caused those small perforations to open up and allow air to go through it with its shape causing it to move in such a way that it created this whistling sound. The drums were explosion from the heat getting in contact with I guess oxygen and some other gases probably hydrogen that’s how deep my understanding of it went. And the impact sound was due to it striking the reef at the bottom of the see which was just deep enough to create that sound as the extremities of the ‘flames’ vibrated from the shock. And the water was the perfect medium for the sound to diffuse.

It had this strange beauty and slight horror to it in my head. This song that came from above. This instrument which needed earth to properly sing its song. It would never sing again and it made the choice to do it where it could happen. And where life could hear, and record it. And even though it was just effect of some circumstances it was so beautiful. It was strange to me how when we understood something we would strip it of what made its beauty in the first place. For me the explanation made it the more beautiful.

But it was ever so slightly terrifying as well. More unconceivable. Understanding how these variables could stack up that way. How this could occur. The location, the weather on that day, its position of entry. Has it been any other time of day it would have plummeted soundless to the bottom of the sea. Seen but unheard. How this would take several years for us to recreate. How small the chance of this happening being so minimal we could not even imagine it. A song from beyond that came to us.

#begginer writer #writer #writing

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wisteria-blooms · 3 years ago

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long hair & tattoos (bill weasley & reader) (9/15)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. Also, I'm going to ask for forgiveness for any errors, though I did proofread it twice... As always, your kind comments make my day. :) CHAPTER 9: A family tradition brings Bill back into your life. (5k words) TAG LIST MOVED TO THE BOTTOM. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged & if I missed you!

CHAPTER 9: ALL GROWN UP

As tolerable as the first month was, the second month of living with Fred and George was nearing unbearable. Under the layer of them being your best friends, it was easy to see that they were just boys. Boys that weren’t ready for any other roommates than themselves.

For example, on the rare occasion the two wanted a meal at home, you’d find their plates and scraps in the sink, sorely forgotten until an unforgivable scent began creeping up in the air. The living room was always littered with shirts and socks missing their other half. You did the honours of collecting them and taking them to the laundry room which was in the corridor. Every time you did try to do laundry, the machine was full of wet clothes from days ago. You couldn’t blame Fred and George for forgetting their laundered clothes, but you were getting irritated having to remove everything from their damp trousers to undergarments if you wanted your own clothes cleaned. Eventually, you gave up and sent everything to Malkin’s and would collect them the next day.

Through an unwanted discovery, you learned that the room adjacent to the laundry room was an experiment room. Though innocuous-sounding at first, it took three ruined reports for you to discover that you hated its existence. Every random and sudden explosion at all hours of the day took you by surprise, jerked your hand, and caused a jilted line that maimed whatever report you were writing. You lost countless hours re-writing them.

You discovered that Fred liked late night showers while George preferred early morning ones. You thought a silencing charm would do the trick but they were only perfectly silencing until the only things you could hear were your own thoughts. And you hated that because you couldn’t shake off Bill even in your deepest sleep at night. Yes, you had come to terms that you were infatuated with him. He’d be there, hand extended towards you, standing outside of Shell Cottage in the summer breeze. Unfortunately, this was on the tamer side of things. Sometimes, he’d be waiting on a bed when you returned home from work. There would be a smouldering expression on his face and his shirt would be halfway undone. Your dreams never got further than that, and you would wake when your head hit the one of the walls that sandwiched your bed. Regardless, one little dream was enough for Bill to linger in your head the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, there was no cold shower cure to rid yourself of Bill Weasley.

In terms of other issues, the only money you had in your bank account were your savings and the difference between your father’s stipend and Bill’s rent. Figuring out your finances combined with the downgrade in your living conditions left you sleep-deprived and demotivated. Your pride, though, kept you from going home. Residing at the manor would be admitting defeat, and Malfoys simply didn’t lose. The slightest thought of your father’s contemptuous smirk incited rage and gave you motivation to stay at the flat.

You were going to stay, no matter how thin the thread you were hanging onto was.

“Ow!”

You kicked your feet up from behind you and plucked out what looked like a sharp plastic fragment from your sock. “What is this?”

“Something we’re working on,” Fred said, running towards you and retrieving the lost piece of his invention from your hand. “Sorry, (Y/N).”

“Could you keep it off the floor?” you hissed. You limped awkwardly to your room and grabbed your purse that was hanging on the door.

“No promises,” Fred responded with a shrug.

“I’d like to see this shoved up your—,” you began, but Fred had already disappeared, likely to get back to the experiment room.

You exited the complex and out of the empty shop before it opened. Today, you decided to redirect your interests to something else. Work and reports kept your weekends at bay, but you vowed to get out of the flat today. Seriously, nothing good could come out of being around Fred and George on a Saturday.

After a walk around town, you decided on perusing the aisles of Flourish and Blotts. As you entered the store, you caught the attention of a young woman standing near the magazine rack. You swerved around who you distinctly knew as Pansy Parkinson. She was flanked by two friends, but she was quick to pick up on you.

“Well, well, well,” she said with a raise of her thin eyebrow. She lowered her magazine to get a better look at you. “If it isn’t (Y/N).”

“Stellar observation, Parkinson,” you responded.

Her eyes trailed upward to your eyes. “You’re looking tired,” she quipped.

“And you’re still looking single.”

Pansy’s face dropped. Her friends quickly turned around, concealing their laughter. She scowled at them.

Pansy had always harboured a grudge against you because your younger brother rejected her advances back in school. Pansy, being a total coward, used you as a scapegoat. You didn’t mind it because you didn’t care for her, and it took a load off Draco’s back. You reckoned she was still madly in love with him and clung onto every hope that Astoria wasn’t the one for him. But it was futile because as much as you thought your brother was a git, he was rather kind to Astoria. And you’d rather have Astoria, nice but a bit boring, over Pansy any day.

“And Draco’s doing well, if you were going to ask. Think he’ll make it official with Astoria soon enough.” You walked away quickly, looping through shelves until she was out of sight.

You naturally gravitated towards the lifestyle section of the bookstore. You were certain you’d read every Madame Millicent publication in the annals. Well, all except one. Over the weeks, you became intensely curious about what your mother’s friends were reading, that book about pleasing a husband. Though you found the concept wretched and backwards, the idea of having a lover was the ultimate temptation. You scoped your surroundings to ensure that no one was around. Then slowly, you pulled the book out from the shelf: Madame Millicent’s Guide for the Docile Witch: Pleasing the Patriarch.

You skimmed the table of contents. It was divided into different sections. Some were benign: childrearing, housekeeping, cooking, gardening, and so forth. Others were more controversial: self-preservation, subservience, and… what? You did an one-over. Sex, it read.

The three letters ignited a moral dilemma inside of you. Should you? Should you not? You shut your eyes, fighting with the devil and angel on your shoulders.

Just a peek into the ‘forbidden’ section shouldn’t hurt – you were more than of age. And you really should know more. Your mother never went over any of this with you as she assumed asking you to wait until marriage was enough. It was unjust and terrible; the men of the family were never expected to follow this backward rule. Anything you did know was through anecdotes and wildly inappropriate muggle shows and movies through a television that Fred had pilfered from his father. Your family friends and their upper-crust circle were too uptight to even broach the subject.

Really, to spare yourself the trouble, you should’ve just bought the book and read it in the comfort of your own room. But that would be putting money into Millicent’s pocket and encouraging her to write more about worshipping the patriarchy.

Quickly, your fingers flicked the pages until you were on page 289. Then, you began to read.

Your husband’s pleasure is paramount and is the key to a happy marriage. In this chapter, I will explore tried and true methods to increase his satisfaction in the bedroom. I say this can be divvied up into two categories: physical and emotional…

Heat rose to your cheeks as you skimmed through Madame Millicent’s advice, especially her advice on enhancing physical pleasure. When you realized the images she decided to incorporate were lifelike, you felt the warmth on your face intensify but you just couldn’t pull away. You wondered how Bill’s calloused hands would feel as they firmly gripped your bare waist. Or how his body would feel as you writhed underneath him—

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up so quickly that gave yourself whiplash.

It was the ever-so discernible voice of Molly Weasley. Oh, crap. You felt a part of you die as you met her kind brown eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley.” You quickly snapped the book shut and held it behind you. You weren’t sure if she’d gotten a peek of the images you were looking at. Slowly, you slid it on the shelf behind you like you’d never taken it out in the first place.

“Fancy seeing you here. Are you looking for some new books too?” she asked, gazing up at the section you were in. She had a basket looped around her arms, loaded with groceries that probably meant this was her last stop.

“You could say that, yes,” you responded.

Molly eyed the gap where you’d taken the book from.

“If you’re looking for housekeeping tips, I have better recommendations. I find that Millicent’s tips are good for immediate satisfaction, but there are better authors for quality spells. Oh, but the board you made for dinner was really lovely indeed. I could tell it was Millicent you read based off the swirl pattern of the meats.”

“I quite agree,” you responded. “It was easy to follow.”

She pursed her lips in thought and trailed her fingers over the spines of a row of books until she landed on one. “Ah, I do enjoy Viola Vickery’s Vital Tips for the Kitchen.” She gracefully pulled the book out and put it in your hands. “Roxanne Reinhart’s Rights for a Righteous Home is a fantastic one, too. But,” she paused, “only if this is what you’re looking for.”

“Exactly what I came here for,” you affirmed. “Thank you.”

A chime sounded from her watch.

“Goodness, is it three already?” she exclaimed. “I must be getting home. Bill is stopping by today.”

“Oh?” She’d certainly piqued your interest with the mention of his name.

“He says he has important news and I should be the first to know.”

Who knew Molly Weasley was so good at throwing sucker punches too?

“Then you must get going, Mrs. Weasley,” you said with a polite smile. “I’ll be sure to read your recommendations.”

“Well, feel free to stop by anytime, dear. I have most of these books at home that are yours to borrow.”

You nodded, watching as Molly paid for her book and then hastily walk out the door. It seemed that there was no escaping Bill wherever you went. Feeling mortified that Bill’s mother of all people had caught you reading about unholy acts, you sped home in record time. The overhead sun, mingled with hot embarrassment, beat down on you. You also wondered what news could be so urgent that Bill had to tell his mother first.

“Letter for you, (Y/N)!” George called from across the room when he heard the bell chime. He gestured towards the cash register.

You eyed the unfurled parchment beside you. “Did you open it already?” you asked.

“Your family’s owl sure is persistent,” Fred said, coming up from behind you. He raised his hand which had a red peck mark in front of your face as proof. “Wouldn’t go until we read it. So, I’ll do the honours of reading it again.”

Before you could protest, Fred had grabbed the letter and held it above his head. You pouted, persisting with your hands, but Fred simply laughed. It was a futile effort given his height. You gave up and prepared yourself for the inevitable.

“Dearest (Y/N).” Fred imitated your mother, a posh, uptight accent coating his voice. His smile then morphed into a scowl. “I would appreciate it if you responded to my dinner invitations. Nonetheless, I hope you and Bill will join us in our annual trip to the French Riviera. You know how important this trip is to our family. Regards, Narcissa.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Fred quirked an eyebrow. “That’s all?”

“I forgot,” you exhaled sharply, “about the trip.” You’d been so focussed on keeping your life and sanity together that this summer trip was the last thing on your mind.

“The one where you mysteriously disappear for weeks?” he questioned.

“I don’t mysteriously disappear!” you retorted, snatching your mother’s letter from Fred now that he had it at your level. You skimmed it over and was disheartened to find Fred had read it word-for-word. “I’ve been going to France every summer since I was born.”

Fred sniggered. “Looks like you won’t be alone this time.”

“Why’s that?”

“Aren’t you going to invite Bill?” George asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

In your eyes, you and Bill were a done deal. But Fred and George were none-the-wiser, and now Fred was eyeing you strangely.

“What’s going on with you?” Fred inquired, leaning in to inspect your person to make sure someone hadn’t taken Polyjuice Potion and had been impersonating you. “You look dreary, haven’t been yourself lately either. You’re more eager than usual to bark at me like you did this morning.”

Your tolerance for Fred was dwindling every second he stuck his face way too close to yours. What angered you the most was how little awareness he had that it was him causing you to be so dreary, as he’d put it. You wanted to scream that it was him ruining any hope of a good sleep with his late showers, singing, and random experiments.

But you bit back everything you wanted to spew. “I have to start packing.” You quickly retreated upstairs to avoid causing a scene.

When you were back in your room, you opened your closet. It dawned on you that you’d sent all your nice clothes in a suitcase for Bill to keep when you were packing with your mother. Sighing, you closed the doors and took a step back. As you turned, your reflection in the mirror caught your eye.

You felt like you were staring at a stranger. Your eyes were sullen and a deep frown pulled at your lips. You hated what you saw, too, this gloomy apparition of an usually happy girl. Despite your mother’s constant criticisms, you were always made to feel beautiful and important. You were good enough for the world, just never good enough for your family’s standards. Now you were in front of the mirror, picking apart your every feature. You even tried to straighten your back like how you saw the French woman, who you kindly dubbed as Bill’s paramour, was standing in the bank. You wondered if you looked as intelligent and graceful as she did. You mussed and ran your fingers through your hair, wondering how to get it to flow so delicately.

Normally, you spoke your mind without a care for propriety. Now, you’d lost your edge and was reduced to a stuttering fool in front of Bill and his family, all because you were worried about what they’d think of you.

You really hated feeling like this.

You waited until Tuesday to ask Bill if he was free to have a chat. Tuesday, as you deemed it, was the perfect day. Even if he said no (which you were certain he would), you could just do mindless work at the Ministry instead of simmering in embarrassment over the weekend. If Bill Weasley were a warranty then you were long past the guaranteed date.

To your surprise, Bill had written back by the evening, suggesting you stop by the penthouse tomorrow after work. Your palms turned clammy when you realized he was inviting you over. Not to the café, or the shop, but to his place where you would be alone.

On Wednesday afternoon, you found yourself cowering with apprehension at the entrance of a building erected by Lennox Gardens. Standing in the centre of a circular pavilion, you willed yourself to regain composure. You had to strut in confidently to fool the stout concierge behind the desk who was looking at you with shifty eyes.

“Excuse me!” he called out, pushing himself off a chair that was too high for him. He walked over with a slight wobble. “Where are you going?”

It took you grit to get this out. “I’m (Y/N) Malfoy, Bill Weasley’s girlfriend,” you responded.

“Haven’t seen you come in with him,” he mumbled as he pushed his round glasses up, still unimpressed with your response.

“Then you must not be doing your job well,” you remarked, looking down at him. “We live together. Most of the time I come back in the late evenings when you’re dozing off.”

Your turned to your left and pushed a button. “Bill, I forgot my keys,” you spoke into the intercom. “Would you let me in?”

Without another word, you could hear the lift coming down.

“You are aware that my father, Lucius Malfoy, owns the unit, aren’t you?” you asked before the doors closed. “Don’t make me advise him of your failing to do your job.”

You fell back on the wall of the lift when the doors finally shut. The last thing you saw was the concierge’s frightened face. Leveraging your father was only fun the first few times around, now it just felt risky, and you felt bad for the poor chap just trying to do his job. The nausea in your stomach hastened with each floor that you whizzed by. Eleven, twelve, thirteen… When you landed on the 25th floor with a smooth stop, the gated doors began to open.

Your mouth fell agape; the penthouse was spacious and breath-taking. So, this was what you could’ve had. Your eyes first landed on the kitchen island, made of tonnes of glossy white marble. The eight white leather barstools were worlds above the battered ones that Fred and George had. There was a full kitchen complete with a stocked wine closet enclosing the area. Bill had tastefully hung up some paintings to brighten up the neutral tones. There were multiple sectionals sofas on a carpet right of the island, the longest of the three facing the ceiling-high windows.

You walked closer, watching your reflection in the glass move with you. The views outside the window were shrouded by clouds. From so high above, you could see the entire city, and blurred bits of muggle London in the skyline.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Bill said as he jogged down the stairs from the second floor. He sported slacks and a loose white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “How are you? Haven’t seen you since the concert.”

“Right,” you responded, nerves still abundant. You withdrew your hands from your back and clapped them together. “I’m well. How was it?”

“You haven’t heard?” Bill quirked an eyebrow. “I thought Fred would’ve ratted me out already.”

“No, he hasn’t.” To be honest, you hadn’t prodded at all. You were scared that Fred would tell you that Bill hadn’t come home that night, setting your wicked imagination off.

“Charlie and I came home in quite the state,” he said with a chuckle. “Had a couple drinks too many. We were acting more like boys rather than men, and mum threw a fit, asked us if we were thirty or thirteen. Charlie said thirteen, but he was a little drunk.”

You laughed. At least there was some relief that Bill hadn’t spent the night in another woman’s bed.

“But anyway,” Bill said as he walked over to grab a glass from the rack in the kitchen. “What brings you here? Sounded urgent.”

“Well.”

You looked at him nervously.

“Do you remember when I said my family goes to France every summer?” you asked.

“Yes, I do,” Bill responded. “Drink?” he asked, holding a glass towards you.

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

You stuck out an arm and offered him your mother’s letter instead. He took it and began to read. You tried to meet Bill’s focussed eyes, but there was a shock of heat that prickled your skin every time you tried. You couldn’t deny that he looked ever so handsome, the lights above casting shadows on his well-structured face.

“It’s almost August now, so,” you added gently. “Yearly tradition and all that.”

“I see.” Bill drummed his fingers on the marble counter while reading.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve explored every other avenue,” you continued. “I tossed all my mother’s dinner and tea invitations. And I can tell them you’re busy, even if they’re persistent, which I know they will be.”

“That’s quite alright,” Bill consoled. He set the letter down and took a swig of ice water, as if that’d help him come to a decision. “When are you going, again?”

“The second week of August.”

“I’ll check my calendar,” he said. “It’s in my office.” He pushed himself off the chair and eyed you when you didn’t move. “Would you like a tour of the place?”

You perked up immediately. “Yes.”

“I mean, it’s half yours too, don’t forget that,” he reminded. As Bill led you out of the living room and up the stairs, he turned back to face you. “It just dawned on me that the owner of 1 Lennox doesn’t even visit her own property,” he teased with a sigh. “You’re exactly the kind of homeowner Kingsley’s new property bill would tax heavily.”

“Then he should tax my father, not me,” you said with a grin, catching up to his long strides. “I didn’t choose to live here.”

The second floor of the penthouse housed the bedrooms and the den which served as Bill’s office. You entered the room with Bill. It was a neat space kept simple with a desk, filing cabinet, bookshelf and a swivel chair. You noted that Bill kept pyramid-shaped paperweights on his desk. You could take the boy out of Egypt, but you couldn’t take the Egypt out of the boy, you supposed.

Bill picked up his calendar and traced the next few weeks with the back of a quill. He came to a stop after a few moments. He scrunched his nose and exhaled. “Got a meeting with the department head that week.”

Ah, shit.

“But I can always arrange for that to be moved to the week after,” Bill mused to himself as he scribbled on the paper. “Given our workload, it’s absurd to think we could’ve met that deadline, anyway.”

“Right.”

“So, that’ll free up the second week of August,” Bill said. He threw the calendar down on his desk and looked at you. “How’s that for an answer, (Y/N)?”

You stilled.

“What?”

“What?” Bill repeated. He leaned over the desk and took an inquisitive glance, in a similar manner Fred had last weekend, at you. It seemed he was expecting more of an enthusiastic response out of you. You quickly looked down, unable to bear the intensity of his blue eyes boring into yours.

“No, that’s wonderful,” you whispered, focussed on the sticky notes on Bill’s desk. “Thank you.”

“You were chattier when we first met,” he remarked, pulling away. “Anything on your mind?”

“Not much,” you responded. “I’m just tired.” You rubbed at your eyes and stifled a yawn.

Bill hummed in an understanding manner. “Yeah, Fred and George will cause quite the ruckus, won’t they? I don't get why they take showers at the opposite ends of the day, given they’re twins and all.”

“That’s exactly it,” you said with more vigour. “The moment I fall asleep after Fred’s shower, I’m wakened by George’s.”

“If you need somewhere to get some shut-eye, then I’ll show you to the guest room,” he suggested.

“Won’t I be bothering you?” you asked hesitantly.

“Not at all,” he affirmed. “As I’ve said, this place is too big for just myself. The only thing I can hear most days are my own thoughts.”

Well, you at least had that in common. But you were sure Bill didn’t have dirty dreams about you.

You walked down the wide hall with Bill before stopping at one of the doors. He pushed it open to reveal a modestly-sized (relative to the penthouse) room with a bed and a nightstand. Your mind went somewhere different this time. You wondered if Bill was bringing anyone, particularly women, back to this place. The idea of him being with anyone else under these pure white covers was too much to bear, and not knowing made you miserable. So, you decided to gauge, with very, very gentle pressure, where Bill stood in his romantic life.

“I know we’ve said we’d end this,” you gestured back and forth between you and him, “after two dinners, so I really do appreciate you agreeing to come along to France, but do you think anything could’ve given us away?”

Bill crossed his arms as a pensive look shadowed his face. “I don’t reckon I could’ve,” he said. “What makes you think that?”

“Percy talked to me about the penthouse last time, when I was over for dinner.” You hoped Bill wouldn’t call your bluff; it really wasn’t Percy you were concerned about.

Bill looked taken aback. “Did he?”

You weren’t looking to badmouth Percy in front of Bill, so you quelled your feelings and plainly stated, “he was surprised you’d live here.”

“Well, he wanted to help me move in,” Bill recalled. “Even assembled the bookshelf here and helped me hang some paintings. He must’ve made the connection to you somehow.”

“He didn’t sound too chuffed.”

Bill stifled a laugh into his fist. “Percy has been on the edge since years ago.”

“Hasn’t he always been like that?”

Bill shook his head. “He’ll kill me if I told you this, so don’t tell him I did.”

“What?” You unconsciously leaned in, terribly curious. Your wide eyes beckoned Bill to tell you what he knew.

“Okay.” Bill was easily persuadable, it seemed. He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice, as if Percy was floating around to witness your conversation. “There was a security breach at the Ministry around the time he started there, and he was relaying confidential information in letters to who he thought was Barty Crouch,” Bill said with a grin. “Got in loads of trouble for it. So, he’s compensating a little,” he brought his thumb and index finger closer together, “trying to tie together things if there’s the slightest hint.”

An amused expression overtook your face. “Percy couldn’t possibly have done that.”

“But he did.” Bill��s face lightened up handsomely. “So, don’t worry about him. He means well even if it doesn’t come off that way.”

“I understand.”

Bill walked over to the closet and opened it. “I still have the suitcase you gave me here.”

“Oh, that’s perfect,” you said. There was a tingle of pleasure that jolted up from your hand to your heart as Bill’s hands met yours for the briefest of moments when he passed the suitcase to you. “I’m going to need some things in here.”

“Well, I’ve got a little more work to do, but make yourself at home.”

A sudden thought came to your mind. “Bill?” you called. “I can try to make dinner tonight, if you’re busy working.”

“Would you really?” he asked with a tone of surprise. The conversation was reminiscent of the one you had months ago when you were trying to learn every nook and cranny of each other in less than an hour.

“I’ve been reading and practicing.”

“The kitchen is all yours, then,” he said with a smile before exiting the room. “But take it easy, don’t wear yourself out.”

When Bill left, you kneeled and unzipped your suitcase. Your eyes instantly met the beautiful, neatly-folded dresses you packed months ago. Your fingers fished out a photograph tucked in between the layers and layers of pastel silk and satin. Sometime in your teenage years, you took out the family portrait in the photo frame on your nightstand and replaced it with a picture of you, Fred, and George making silly faces in front of the Big Ben. It aggravated your parents to no end; one, for the unsavoury friends you’d made; two, for perusing muggle London; and three, for losing the family portrait.

The family portrait that you thought was long gone was taken when you were three. You were standing on the front step of the manor, holding onto Draco. If you remembered clearly, he was just beginning to learn how to walk, so you were doing most of the heavy work, bracing him from behind to keep him standing. Narcissa and Lucius stood proudly with their two young children in front of their well-maintained estate.

You missed the simpler times before politics took a stronghold in your family. That wrecked everything. Not you or the friends you chose.

You supposed you’d get some shuteye before you attempted anything in Bill’s kitchen. Slowly, you lifted the white covers off the bed. As you crawled in, you sighed in relief. The mattress literally moulded to the shape of your body. It was also so lovely and quiet in this suite – no explosions, running water, singing, slamming doors, or rambunctious laughter. The only audible sounds were Bill’s quill scratching on the parchment and his inviting low hums that floated in from the other room. It was so pleasant that you felt like you could stay here forever. You were still in Bill’s good graces, and though you couldn’t ascertain if he loved anyone else, he was coming with you to France.

Things were really looking up for the better.

As you felt your body relax for the first time in weeks, you figured a short fifteen-minute nap would be enough for recuperate. Just fifteen, you promised, before drifting off to slumber.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

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