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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 6 months

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New Meat

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Warnings: mentions of weed, reader is definitely unphased by the whole ghost kids controlling animatronics things, i'm sorry i just had to, i've watched that fucking movie over six times now, it's a disease, i don't understand why i'm being pulled back into my fnaf days, more to come most likely, piereced!reader

Words: 1187

Summary: You train Mike in being a Fazbear Security Guard.

Susie

Mike didn't really know what to expect for this security job. Mr. Raglan said the owner was sentimental and that was why the place hadn't been demolished yet.

At least he would be paid. The first night he wouldn't even be alone either. There would be someone to train him on the night shift. A veteran Fazbear security guard that has been working there for a little more than a year. A record, Raglan exclaimed in reverence.

What kind of person would work at such a shitty job for that long? Must be as desperate as he was for employment. Beggars really couldn't be choosers.

Making sure Abby was set with Max, Mike made sure to show up at least fifteen minutes before his shift started. When he tries for the front door, there are chains that prevent him from opening it.

"Around the corner."

He jumps at the tired voice. You slump your shoulder against the corner of the building and watch him. "You'll want to enter from the backdoor." You offer him a wan smile. Underneath your heavy 'security' jacket was a metal band t-shirt. Piercings line the curve of both of your ears, studs and rings alike. A weary shadow is cast under your eyes.

You hold your hand out to him in introduction. "Nice to meet you Mike."

When he grabs your hand to shake he finds it shockingly cold.

Mike follows you as you give him the grand tour of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria. The main stage held three, tall animatronics. A smaller cove, you explained, housed the animatronic known as 'Foxy'. A spare closet room housed crumpled, metal forms in various stages of disassemble. More than anything in the restaurant that was the one room that really had Mike's skin crawling. Something about it didn't feel right.

Every step you take, Mike notices something bobbing along your leg. Initially he thought it was your flashlight but you held it in your hand. When you entered the lit security room, Mike finally realizes it's a large taser hanging from your utility belt.

You catch his eying and show him the taser. "I'll leave this with you for tonight."

Incredulously holding it in his hand, he feels it's heavy weight. "Is this really necessary?"

"You never know who you'll encounter here at night. Could be an aggressive tweeker or something. . . worse." Your voice trails off. "Keep it on you at all times. Trust me."

Wearily you rub at your eyes and collapse into one of the computer chairs in the security room while Mike takes the other. He leans back against the chair's weak support. You were scheduled to stay and help Mike the rest of the night shift. Then tomorrow night you'd finally be able to get some relatively good sleep. You've been awake for far too long. Feeling rather shitty, you grab for you bag of Red Vines to fill the dullness. There was little possible the Fazbear gang would act up tonight. They stayed quiet when it was someone's first night. Like they were trying to feel out the new security guard. You gave them a talk before Mike had shown up.

Really, it was Bonnie and Carl that you were worried about the most. They were particularly aggressive and wouldn't hesitate to take a chunk out of the new guy.

Eyes leisurely moving to check the cameras just to be on the safe side.

Vanessa told you that Mike wasn't allowed to know the truth. Her father instructed the both of you that much via phone call. Plus after having worked there for some time now, you knew better. William Afton wasn't someone you wanted to disobey.

But it ate away at you. The longer you were around him, the more guilty you felt for not screaming 'Run! Get out of here and don't come back!'

Many other night shift security guards have come and gone; either quitting or being killed by the animatronics. Only you have been able to survive past your fifth night.

You had an advantage though that the others didn't. One that made them more docile around you.

"Hey, if you want to leave early then go ahead." Mike says out of nowhere after some time basking in the silence. "I think I got it."

You shake your head. "I need the hours." His offer was tempting. They were shitty hours with even shittier pay but any little bit helped. Just enough so you could afford to go to college. Receive a degree and maybe get out of your little town.

That answer didn't seem to be the one he was looking for as he anxiously runs his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation.

Eyebrow arching, you tilt your head in puzzlement. He made it obvious he wanted you gone. You felt like you should take offense to that. Maybe you came off as too uncaring. Positive it wasn't your body odor. While your dietary needs were lacking you made an effort to be as hygienic as you could. When you work double shifts (which is often) you tend to sleep in your car. It worked out fairly well when you put down your back seat and cushion the bottom.

Nowadays Freddy Fazbear's felt more like a home than your actual apartment.

Mike just slumps in his chair.

"You'll be in for a long night if you don't at least bring something as entertainment."

"What do you do?" He asks after a moment.

You open up your backpack and show him the overstuffed contents, including a strong stench of marijuana.

Word searches. Crossword puzzles. An embroidery hoop with plastic bag of different colored threads. Two books. Mike could see the stitching of your backpack beginning to tear. He pulls out what he thought was a notebook but it was actually a Mad Libs. At that he glances up at you.

You shrug. You couldn't just tell him that the animatronics loved them. He wouldn't understand.

Placing your backpack back onto the floor, you go back to your licorice.

"You're allowed to smoke this here?" He gestures with his head to where you kept your weed supply kit.

"'Course not but you really think the boss stops here to check? I've never met the guy. Just spoken with him over the phone." You zip up your bag and push it under the desk.

Now Mike is staring suspiciously at you. "And you don't fall asleep?"

It makes you roll your eyes. "Relax newbie. Besides checking the cameras frequently, this job is a breeze. And believe it or not, when I'm high, I'm incredibly productive. I wouldn't recommend you taking drugs during your shift though. You're still new. At least get a hang of things before you start fucking off."

You couldn't help but add "Also- if any of them give you trouble, just tell them that you know me."

His brows furrow. "Them?"

He wouldn't believe you even if you told him everything. What sane person would?

Sighing, you reach into your jacket pocket for the playing cards you had. "You know how to play 'War'?"

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #fnaf #fnaf x reader #fnaf fanfic #fnaf fanfiction #fnaf reader insert #fnaf fandom #mike schmidt x reader #five nights at freddys movie #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt fnaf

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lthrcwby63 · 2 months

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Coming out to the Noose

I thought I would tell you about when all this fetish started for me. I know, that many had this same fetish but were too scared to even talk about it. So, in a way this is my story on getting the idea of my entry into breath control and hangings and getting it into mainstream.

I came out late, I was around 28-29 when I decided that being gay was ok, so I dumped my girl-friend, sold off my 16 horses, moved out of the country and into the city. Being from the country I was usually wearing Levis or Wrangler’s and cowboy boots. We are talking the late 80’s and early 90’s. I started going to the dance palaces, and one guy in western gear suggested that we go over to the J&L Saloon. Local leather bar at the time.

Well, when I walked in and saw all those guys in leather and boots, I knew I had come home. I mean being from the country, chaps, boots and leather was just what it was. In a conversation I had to one guy, his name was Larry, a little bit of a tweeker (high on drugs) we went across the street to a bath house. He got us a room and wanted to fuck. I did let him know that I had never experienced that, being new I was just getting into the scene.

He told me not to worry, he would make sure my first would not only be memorable but he would make sure he took care of me the right way. We headed up to the room, stripped but he made sure I was still wearing my tall cowboy boots. He rolled me over, and started fingering my hole, one finger then 2 then 3 and 4. He greased himself and my hole really well, then slipped his cock into my hole. Even with getting fingered it hurt like hell, but he just talked to me, told me just let the pain pass and he was very still, his hard cock just resting up in my hole. After a few minutes he started pumping his cock in and out and my cock got really hard. Yea, I was suddenly hooked and needed his cock in me. He was easy and gentle; the experience was amazing for me. All the time talking to me and making sure I was ok. Then he asked me to tell him about my darkest fantasy. Well, ya know, his cock is buried in my ass, and I told him. I was into jacking off thinking about being hanged. He told me he wished we could be back in Nebraska where he was from because he knew of a great barn, we could play in… Then I felt his hand go around my throat and he started choking me. My cock exploded and then his cock, cum was everywhere.

We spent the night together in the bath house, he introduced me to the owners of the J&L saloon and they kind of took me under their wing. Made sure that I was also safe and with people they knew were kewl. Larry and I stayed friends for a while, though I didn’t get into the leather drug scene. Was just not my scene. I did talk to Larry about my fetish and he introduced me to a magazine called ‘Drummer’. They had ads in the back pages and Larry suggested that I put in an ad to see if there were others who loved the same things that I did. So, I did…

Not 2 weeks after that ad came out, I got 4 letters in the mail. Pretty much introductions and what they were also into, their fantasies, and other stuff they liked. There were some incredible stories and great writing and 1 or 2 guys and I actually started talking on the phone. One was from California and another was from Texas. Don, from California had been hanging himself since he was a teenager, the other guy from Texas was more into just writing fantasies and not into actual physical play. But damn, these guys were story tellers. From there we started writing back and forth and at one point I mentioned that I had all these great stories from other guys who had answered my Drummer ad and then wanted to read those stories as well.

That birthed a magazine called ‘The Hangman’s Nooseletter’. Now mind you this was before the advent of the internet, so it was decided that a Nooseletter would go out quarterly, and it did for 2 and a half years. Once the chat rooms on AOL and mIRC, Googlechat and YahooChat, and Gay.Com, Gear fetish the Nooseletter went to the wayside. I mean why pay for stories when you can download them from the internet for free, right? But at the end of it’s run, I had 10 countries and 155 members I was mailing the magazine too.

Over the years, I have met many of the members of the Nooseletter, I also have lost several friends to the siren’s call to the noose including my best friend from California. But it is what it is, sometimes the fetish becomes all consuming. Some people don’t have a friend to play with so they play alone. (Danger! Will Robinson! Danger!) The Hangman’s Nooseletter was partially designed for a meeting place for like minded guys. Almost like a support group for lack of a better word.

In the next few months, I will be posting the Nooseletter’s here so that you can see some of the incredible stories were written at the time. Lord only knows how many buckets of cum were squirted while all those men read those stories and looked at the artwork.

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junior-beans · 4 months

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What is the most horrifying thing you have seen in New York?

the first thing I'm going to say is more odd than horrifying, but there's this homeless guy called 'tweeker tony' (I don't know how he got his name, but he even calls himself that so I'm going with it)

he's done some notable things, like taking an old twig from Central Park and trying to use it as a snake charming flute to orchestrate a gang of rats to do his bidding.

The first time I encountered him, he was sitting in the alleyway I had come into from the sewer and I didn't know he was there and he flung himself at me and started calling me the "sewer Jesus" and started an urban legend about me saying that I'm the deity of rats and will one day rain Hellfire upon New York with my Army of mice and rats and I don't really understand it? but you do you I guess.

Whats truly terrifying is VR. Mikey and Leo had me play it, and at first it was super trippy when they had me play mine craft, but then the put in another game, and didnt tell me what it was,, and it was fucking scarier than shit man. i refuse to do VR after that. They had m. Play the exorsist and i was in tears. I may be a war vet, or smth, but I am a major wuss when it comes to scary shit.

This. They had me play this and I'd rather deal with you-know-what again before playing this shit again.

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delivish · 8 months

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i have such a soft spot for tweek/kenny. they're super adorable to me, okay

i see them just being kind've ambivalent toward each other at first. super neutral at best.

'yeah i know that guy's face but i can't say we've ever spoken. we kinda move in different circles, man'. 'oh him? yeah, dude, he's my classmate. we're not really friends, though. i think his parents named him twit, dude, can you imagine? always has some bomb fuckin' weed on him, but don't even ask, he doesn't like to share.'

love the thought of them being forced to work together. and just arguing and cracking on each other the entire time. not even an enemies to lovers situation?? so much as like. here's a person who meant absolutely nothing to me and now we have to work together and its make or break. and you still mean nothing to me even in this situation lmao but since you're here. i guess i'll talk to you. I GUESS. and it doesn't matter if i'm lecherous or super scrungly or riddled with anxiety 'cause after this we're going to go back to pretending the other person doesn't exist. great? great!

except whoops! somehow in the middle of all this we've gotten to know each other better than anyone. and despite everything, we've kinda. become friends? and its genuinely nice. people raise their eyebrows when they see us together because, those guys shouldn't have anything in common. and we don't, but we do. sort of? it's weird. and fuck, that thing that used to irritate the shit outta me is kinda cute now. huh.

but they wouldn't like. be interested. at all. it's too weird. dude, he's cool, he's a friend. (just a friend).

'ngh, hey kenny.' 'hey, tweeker, what's up?'

super casual. a thousand little moments adding up. tweek never does let kenny take a hit (he's a brat and an only child, okay, he doesn't like to share). but one day he gets tired of kenny's bugging and shotguns a lungful of smoke into kenny's mouth. whatever, man. doesn't count as a kiss. (kenny thinks about it for days after).

ANYWAY fucking twenny

#don't #don't look at me #i think about them a NORMAL amount!!!!!#SP Twenny

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bokutokiya · 1 year

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EXTRA: mysterion

(TW: blood, fighting, and swearing)

Takes place in Middle school (15- Kenny/y-n, Karen 12)

You shake your boots off as you move to adjust your beanie, South Park was in one of its colder days as the season shifted from spring snow to snow snow. Letting out a breath and watching it spiral as you cross over the railroad tracks you missed the small brunette blurr that body slams you back into a snow pile, letting out a loud ‘oof’ sound you allowed the giggling child to sit on your stomach for a moment as you smile. The small brunette one Karen McCormick let her little dimples show as you heft her into your arms and get up. “Hello Kare bear! How are you today?!” You ask as you gently squeeze your self proclaimed sister, your parents passed away a year ago and the McCormicks keep an eye on you as another one of their kids. You shift Karen to your back as you continue walking, she takes up playing with your hair. “I’m doing good, Kenny says you’ve been sad.” She says as she tries to peek into your face, her pigtails tickling your cheeks causing you to laugh softly. “I’m okay, better that I get to spend the day with you.” You smile at the little girl before knocking on the mcCormicks door. The door is opened by an unnaturally red headed lady with a kind smile, “Y/n! Thank you for coming tonight. Kenny is staying with the boys for a school project and unfortunately Stewart and I have a meeting to attend, so we’ll be home late. Feel free to help yourself in the kitchen and if we aren't back by 10 feel free to sleep in Kenny’s room, you know where everything is sweetheart” Carol says before letting you step in and set Karen on the floor. Stewart came past and ruffled your hair before walking out the front door with Carol, turning to Karen you smile and place a hand on her head, “what should we do squirt?” You ask playfully as she bats your hand away. “Let’s go to the park then maybe Stark's pond” she says before racing into her room and coming back with a small backpack you hadn’t seen before, “who got you the pretty backpack?” You ask with an eyebrow raised. Karen smiled brightly and held it up “bubba butters gave me it for my birthday! Oh! And thank you for the hoodie y/n! I’m saving it for a special occasion!” She cheers before putting the backpack on, you slide your wallet and an extra jacket into the bag for you before grabbing her hand and leaving the house. The park was empty when you arrived, you took the backpack for her as she raced off to the play set, for a young teen she loved playgrounds. You scrolled through your phone sending a small update text to Kenny to let him know you guys were ok.

After updating your social you look up only to not see Karen. You panic for a moment and look around wilding for her only to see her pop out of the bathroom and jog her way over. You quickly pull her into a hug, her face smashed into your chest, “please let me know when you wander off next time Kar, scared the shit out of me baby.” you say, calming your heart beat. Karen quickly grabbed your arm and hung on it “I’m sorry y/n! I’ll be more careful!” She claims before you two start walking towards tweak Bros coffee, you open the door, the bell jingling your arrival. “ACK, y/n! How are you tonight!” Tweek calls from behind the counter as you bounce over and pull yourself up to sit on it. “I'm a great tweekers, where’s Craig?” You notice a lack of middle fingers being thrown your way, tweek shakes his head “he’s home, had detention so he didn’t come by to help out” he replies easily calming in your presence, handing you a hot cocoa for Karen, which she happily takes. “Well we just came by to say hey, kens staying over at Cartmans so I’m dragging Karen around.” You say. He nods and waves you guys out as you leave into the darkening day. Rounding the corner from the theater a hand shoots out and yanks you and Karen back into the alleyway, Karen lets out a startled scream before her mouth is covered. “hello Y/n.” A familiar voice calls out from behind the scared girl, your face goes from anger to terror in 3 seconds as you discreetly slip the tracker/alarm from the strap of the backpack pressing it. “Hello Kalma. It’s been a while, come back to finish me off?” You ask, shaking lightly, Kalma lets out a hard biting laugh before throwing Karen off to the side and stalking closer to you “I wish I could finish you off! But you have a use for the plan. Doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you a little” she laughs bitterly before leaping towards Karen, the younger girl crying in terror. You make a split second decision and place your body in front of Karen’s, a sharp stinging pain hits your side as you start to feel a warm spot on your hoodie. “Damn, Kenny’s gonna be pissed I got blood on another of his hoodies” you try to joke out, looking down at Karen. The younger girl can’t tear her eyes away from the injury on your side so you cover her eyes and whisper “run back to tweak bros, tweek can call our angel.” She gives a nod and takes off, allowing you a moment to turn to Kalma. “You just don’t go down huh?” She asks bitterly “just like your parents, maybe you’ll be more challenging then them after all.” you see red at her statement before tackling her onto the ground and swinging your fist into her face landing a couple of blows before she twists the object in your side flipping you onto the wet and dirty pavement. She opens her mouth to say something else when a shout comes from above “I’d step away from the girl if I were you!” Mysterion’s voice is hard to miss and brings a small painful smile to your face as Kalma scoffs. “Whatever I’m done with her.. for now” she laughs before vanishing down the end of the alleyway. Rapid footsteps make their way down the alley as Karen crash’s into you as you grunt. “Let’s get home” you say to her softly, looking into the worried eyes of mysterion.

After getting Karen home and settling into bed, you heave yourself into Kenny’s room and start digging for his first aid kit when the window slides open. You look up and meet the eyes of mysterion, you let out a small painful laugh as you plop on the floor. “Hey Kenny. Guess I lied about nothing happening” you say roughly, Kenny takes his hood and mask off before rushing over and kneeling next to you, “shit y/n how did this happen?” He asks, sliding back into his smooth tone. You yank the hoodie over your head letting him see the injury better “took the knife to keep Karen safe, Kalma went for her first.” You hiss out as he gently pokes around the wound. Kenny shakes his head before pulling out the first aid kit from his closet along with another one of his hoodies, “of course you did, thank you for that but I’m still and you're hurt” he says in a gentle yet stern tone causing you to laugh. Kenny quickly cleans and wraps your side before helping you struggle on his hoodie and pulls you into a light hug, his face burrowed into your hair as he shakes trying to suppress sobs, “when Karen called I thought the worst, I’m so glad you're ok.” He says, before pulling back and looking over your face. You give him a smile and press a light kiss to his cheek, “remember ken, who is responsible for your missing tooth? I think I can handle myself.” You tease him lightly before he helps you to settle into his bed. He threads his fingers lightly through your hair as you start to feel tired from pain and all the energy you used, “y/n, I love you, your family and I will ALWAYS be there to protect you. Please be safe and sleep well bubba” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead and covering you with the blankets before sliding back out of the window to let you rest.

#south park #south park smau #x reader #x reader text #short drabble #mysterion #Kenny

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theehorsepusssy · 2 years

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True HP Story

One time I was invited to a meth orgy across the river and said I'd be on my way but I had a bit of business to attend first. I was selling a bag of gak to some guy from out of town and need the money. So this business man pops up at my hovel and I sell him a teener and he wants to rig up there and like an idiot I say it's fine but then he gets high and assumes he's gonna hang with me and it takes ages to kick his ass out. So now I'm late for the orgy. I get there and pop in the john to shoot up and I'm all high as fuck and come out and the host has set up goddamn omelet station in the kitchen where all the tweekers were coming down all limp dicks lined up to order their eggs, plate in hand. Womp womp.

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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loominggaia · 3 months

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Lamaish Subcultures

I've gotten a lot of requests for this one! Sorry it took so long.

Come to Lamai Nation! We've got tweekers, cecaeliaboos, snake-nazis, and incels! I think there are more subcultures than this, but this is all I have so far, so I'm posting it as-is.

(Special thanks to @razzek for the never-nesters idea! If you guys have more suggestions just send 'em over!)

Pinpricks - Pin is a popular drug throughout southern Wokina, mostly used for religious purposes. However, some people abuse this drug and end up worshiping it more than they worship their gods. These individuals are colloquially known as “pinpricks”. They are identified by their erratic behavior and loose grip on reality. They tend to congregate in groups and hold “alternative” religious services, which always involves getting high on pin and little else. They consider themselves more enlightened than mainstream society, though most of them suffer dementia symptoms due to the pin abuse. They wear clothing with bright, psychedelic patterns and overload their bodies with all kinds of eclectic jewelry.

Seasnakes - Refers to gorgons who spend a lot of time with cecaelia and emulate cecaelian ways of life. Many seasnakes believe that gorgons are actually another race of cecaelia, and they can somehow unlock their innate cecaelian abilities like body regeneration, water breathing, and longevity. They subscribe to a lot of woo beliefs and perform odd rituals to “unlock” these supposed powers. Many cecaelia just find them offputting, while others are flattered by them and enjoy their company. Some cecaelia even take advantage of seasnakes by charging money to “help” them unlock their powers.

Sons and Daughters of of Serpentia - A subset of Lamaish gorgons who believe Lamai Nation is only for gorgonkind and no one else. They campaign for the removal of all non-gorgons from Lamaish territory, and the outlawing of all religions except Serpentism. Their numbers grow and wane over the eras as local politics evolve, but their hateful beliefs remain the same. They are known for their hostile, thuggish behavior towards non-gorgons and non-Serpentists churches. There was once an old political movement in Lamai Nation, which called for a theocracy called "Serpentia". Serpentia was said to be a utopian land for all gorgon Serpentists. Sons and Daughters of Serpentia adopted their name from this concept.

Never-Nesters - These are male gorgons who have sworn off female companionship, refusing to romance females or start families. Some of them go as far as to refuse all interaction with females entirely. They may choose other males for companionship, but most often they end up alone. Most Lamaish never-nesters are ziqits, but some alpha males have joined the movement as well. These gorgon men feel disgruntled by Lamai Nation’s misandrist laws, and they wish to rebel against their culture by challenging women at every turn. Though they think themselves warriors of equality, most of them are simply recluses who struggle to relate to others. Lamaish culture heavily frowns upon never-nesters and their antisocial ways.

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

#ask #asklamai #askculture #askgorgon

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pekejscatbed · 11 months

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Take my Lungs (3/4) | Craig x Kenny

Info/Warnings:

high school AU, brief mention of drugs and death (not related), Stan being sneaky👀, Kenny uses he/she, Marjorine uses she/her, Kyle uses they/them, Tweek uses he/xe

1/4 | 2/4 | 3/4 | 4/4

south park masterlist

———

The first half of the school day goes by without incident and lunch time soon rolls around, the school halls immediately filling with famished teenagers and young adults. Kenny is one of these young adults, rushing to the cafeteria to get a school lunch with her friends (the food isn't very good- hasn't been since Chef died-, but even with a job, Kenny can't afford much else).

"Heya, Ken!" Marjorine greets the dirty blonde from the end of the lunch line, ushering her over. "Did'ya hear what happened to Clyde? Poor thing, I just feel so bad for him."

"No? Is he okay?" Kenny and Marjorine grab their food as the former responds, making their way to the table where Kyle, Stan, and Cartman are already sitting. Both blondes sit down, Kenny next to Cartman and Marjorine next to Stan.

"He tried getting back together with Bebe again, but she's already dating someone else! Y'know Red?" Kenny nods: the whole town knows each other. "Well apparently, her and Bebe are girlfriends now. They're actually really cute together!"

"Are you talking about Clyde?" Cartman asks after swallowing his food. "Oh, mah god, he was totally crying after Bebe rejected him! It was hilarious! You had to be there, bro!"

The rest of lunch continues pretty much the same way, everyone gossiping about what happened in their morning classes. That is, until the last ten minutes when Stan abruptly stands up while looking at his phone.

"Sorry guys, gotta go." The raven-haired teen mutters to his friends, pushing the rest of his lunch towards Kenny without looking then immediately leaving the cafeteria (Cartman snatches the tray from Kenny before he can even look at it).

"Well, that was weird." Cartman points out the obvious through a mouthful of food. "Should we follow him?"

"Nah, he's probably gonna suck face with the guy he won't tell us about."

"Kenny!" Kyle glares at the blond, though knows they can't disagree. "Stan will tell us when he's ready."

———

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick- briiing!

Finally! Kenny grins to herself as the last bell rings, shoving his stuff into his bag and rushing out of the classroom to go find Tweek.

The ex-caffeine and meth addict is at xer locker, where Kenny knew xe would be, shoving ridiculously thick textbooks into the small box of metal (with the help and encouragement of his friends, Tweek is now almost three years clean (minus the few relapses, but Tweek tries not to dwell on that- relapsing is an important part of recovery, after all) and looking much healthier than before, his elementary school chub back and filling out all the right places).

"Tweekers, hey! Ya almost done?"

"I thought I told you not to call me that?" It's a mix between a question and a statement as Tweek shuts his locker door, turning towards the other blond. "Yeah, I'm done. Come on."

"Y'know I'd stop if ya really hated it." With a grin, Kenny follows Tweek to the school parking lot and into the latter's car so they can carpool to Tweak Bros Coffee like they always do, where the two blonds find none other than Craig Tucker ringing up an order.

"I didn't know you were working today, Craig." Tweek joins Craig behind the counter, tying together the back of xer apron (Kenny just stares at Craig, attempting to determine whether the raven-haired male actually remembers yesterday or not). "Where's mom and dad?"

"Needed something to do today." Craig shrugs, making eye contact with Kenny and raising an eyebrow before turning around to put together the customer's drink. "Was either make money or get yelled at by Thomas. And your parents said they were goin' on a date, figured we'd be fine without 'em."

Kenny turns away from the counter, deciding if he tries talking to Craig now, she'll be late for her job, and makes her way to the back to change into her uniform: a white, collared dress shirt and a black tie, topped off with a red, sleeveless vest (all of which he got from South Park's only thrift store, Sloppy 2nds). She's supposed to wear black slacks as well, but the skirt she's wearing is much comfier and it's not like anyone will be able to see anyway- the ticket booth only shows from the waist up.

"I can leave my stuff in the back, yeah?" Kenny pokes his head out from behind the 'Staff Only' door, then his whole body; Tweek nods. "Swag! Thanks, Tweekers!"

Tweek groans at the nickname, and at the same time, Craig snorts.

"'Swag'? Really, dude?"

"Swag." Kenny grins as she walks to the front of the store and opens the door, only to turn around, looking directly at Craig. "I'll see ya after my shift, yeah, Tucker?"

Said Tucker gives a brief nod, and with that, Kenny is out the door.

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sashred · 2 years

Text

Tension, Pt. 2

Well, this happened. I sincerely want to thank everyone for their kind responses. It's reminded me of why I used to love writing fanfiction so much. I never planned to write a second part to this either...yet here we are…the final bit, some laughs and some sexiness ahead. It’s not terribly long, but I had a blast writing it.

You can find Part 1 HERE.

Thanks, and enjoy!

“So, I’m curious. Genuinely curious. How in the hell is Tim supposed to pull this off?” Lucy asked, the concept pictures Nyla had spread out on the conference room table ranging from tatted skinheads to strung out tweekers. Some of the tougher pics maybe…she had seen him take on bikers before and kick some serious ass, but it was all so opposite of everything he was, it seriously stretched her imagination.

“Thankfully, our undercover prep team is ridiculously talented,” Nyla answered. “You’d be surprised how easy it can be to fall into character once you really look the part. They’ll be here in a bit to do you up, too. Bradford should be finished by now. I really hope you like leather.”

“Some is fine but maybe not…” she turned one of the pictures sideways, trying to determine just how the heck the woman in it had buckled all of the straps wrapped around her legs and arms, “maybe not a whole bodysuit.”

“No promises. Lopez may have gotten a little…involved with the whole process. Fair warning. Now, you sure you have all of your background info memorized? Anything you still have questions about?”

“No, Tim and I pretty much nailed it down last night,” she said, now studying a drawing of some woman that looked suspiciously like her, leather vest partially unbuttoned and nearly bursting at the top seams.

“Oh,” Nyla nodded, leaning against the table. “How did that go?”

Lucy looked up at Nyla’s entirely too casual tone. Her hawklike eyes were studying Lucy with a little too much interest. She put the drawing down.

“Fine. Just fine,” she said, plastering a smile on her face. “We really got into the details. Couldn’t be more prepared.”

“Uh huh,” she drawled. “Details. Yeah, those are important. You, uh, cover all the basics too?”

“Of course,” Lucy answered quickly. “All the bases, er, basics.” Her right was thumb fiddling with the ring on her finger. Nyla’s gaze seemed to zero in on the movement, so she stopped.

“Well, sounds like you’ve got it covered, then. If you need to talk about anything, just let me know. This is a little bit different from the op you worked as Nova. You’ve got a partner with you this time, and while it might make some things easier, it can also make things a hell of a lot more complicated. Keep your head on your shoulders and try not to lose yourself too much. This could be a lengthy operation, but remember that there’s an end to everything, and you need to be prepared to go back to the way things were when it’s over.”

Her words were too perceptive, likely filled with her own experiences and mistakes, and Lucy was damn grateful to have someone like her in her corner.

“I get it,” Lucy nodded, “I appreciate it, too. Trust me, that whole complicated part…”

“Is about to get even worse,” Nyla sighed, “and there’s nothing you can do except stay grounded, and remember who the both of you really are, no matter what happens.”

“I will do my best to remember that,” she said, her insides back to the mess they were the night before. She was nervous too, more nervous than she’d realized, and things were seriously about to get real.

“You’ve got this, Lucy,” Nyla said, eyes darting to the door as voices approached. “You and Tim work better together than any other set of partners I’ve seen since being in this precinct. If you guys can’t do this, no one else has a chance in hell.”

“SOMEBODY BRING ME MY PHONE NOW.”

Lucy’s head whipped around as she heard Angela’s shout from outside the door. “This is too good, I swear I am keeping a picture of you like this in my line up book for the rest of forever.”

Lucy and Nyla traded glances, the conference room door bursting open towards them. Angela swept in, her eyes alight with laughter and mischief.

“Have you seen him yet?” she asked, stopping in front of Lucy. A male voice behind her grumbled something about going to wait in the locker room, and she whipped around. “Hey! Nope, you better get your ass back here, I am not missing their reactions! And who is bringing me my damn phone!?”

“What in the world is going on?” Lucy asked, standing on tip toes as she tried to look past Angela. She put her hands on Lucy’s shoulders.

“I would like to present to you, mine and the undercover op team’s greatest creation ever,” she swept her right arm back, turning as she did. “Jake, the angry biker dude.”

Tim, or at least someone who vaguely looked like him, stood behind her, his eyes firmly fixed on the ceiling, hands shoved in his pockets.

“What the actual…”

Lucy was speechless. Nothing about him looked like the Tim she knew, except of course for the scowl on his face. His jeans were dirty, and the random band tshirt he wore showed off not one but two whole sleeves of fake tattoos. His hair was slicked back with gel, and it was obvious he hadn’t shaved that morning, more so even than she thought it would be.

“I am a genius.” Angela marveled at her work, Tim shooting her a glare. “Oh! And look at this.” She went over and snatched his arm, dragging him towards Lucy. She held it up for her, and there, on his right bicep just above her hand, was the drawing Lucy thought had looked too much like her, brought to life in salacious detail.

“Please tell me that’s not…”

Angela nodded enthusiastically. “It is. Isn’t it great? I had a friend draw it up.”

Lucy inspected it closer, and while a few things looked off, she had to admit it really wasn’t bad.

“They certainly enhanced some of my…assets,” she grinned. “And I’m not mad about it.” Nyla snorted from behind her, and Tim jerked his arm away.

“Ok, enough. You got to gawk, but guess who’s turn it is now?” He crossed his arms, though the imperial effect it usually gave was dampened greatly. Lucy snickered again, but her smile faded as Angela wrapped her arms around her and began steering her towards the door.

“You are going to love the outfits I –”

Nyla cleared her throat, and Angela sighed.

“Okay fine, the outfits we picked out for you.”

“Wait, do I get tattoos too?” Lucy asked, an image of her very own Tim pinup tat giving her serious pause. She wondered how they even got hers on him.

“Naturally,” Angela answered. “You’re getting the works today.”

“Oh. Wonderful?” If the top she wore in that drawing was any indication of Angela’s vision for her, it was going to be a very long day indeed. Tim was clearly enjoying her unease as Angela tugged her along, his grin far too smug.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

“Hey, you think maybe I can get some fake nails, too? Like the really pointy ones?” Lucy asked, her tone hopeful.

“Oh my God, that is a great idea. I’ll call my cousin, he owes me a favor anyway.”

The smug grin was gone, Tim’s eyes now narrowed. Calculating.

She gave a shrug and smirked back at him. Two could play at that game.

What went unnoticed by the pair was the exasperated look Nyla exchanged with Angela over Lucy’s head, just before Angela glanced upward to offer a quick prayer for them all.

~~~

How exactly Lucy ended up sprawled across Tim’s lap, one of his hands cupping her neck and the other dangerously high on her thigh, would be the subject of many debates for years to come. Depending on who answered the question, it was either Lucy’s idea so that they could more seamlessly blend into the background and hear more conversations, or Tim’s because it gave them a distinct strategic advantage and made it easier to communicate.

Either way, Tim was now communicating quite effectively with his mouth hot on her skin, one of the other gang members giving him an “atta boy” nod as he dropped a packet of white power on the table beside him. “It’ll keep you going all night, trust me,” he leered, eyes not failing to give Lucy a slimy once over.

“Hell yeah, man. Appreciate it,” Tim said, reaching over for a fist bump. “Might need some more for my girl, though. She’s gonna have a hard time keeping up with me tonight.” He squeezed her thigh, rocking her backwards against him, and she smiled wider than any of the tweekers around her.

“So little faith,” she purred, sliding her hand down his chest, and lower.

“Phew doggies you got your hands full. Congrats on the patch, and I’ll leave you to it, man. Enjoy the party!” He walked off, and Lucy slid herself all the way around until she faced Tim in a straddle, her legs folded and tucked against his on the ratty sofa.

Loud rock music pulsed around them, other women and men in varying states of dress lounging about, sexing about. Tim had finally been initiated into the Death Dealer’s, (Lucy still couldn’t say their name without wanting to laugh), and the piles of meth and cocaine that surrounded them in that clubhouse were enough for about fifty intent-to-sell charges. With all the other evidence they’d gathered over the past two weeks, she’d be surprised if the feds didn’t go all in with a RICO charge.

“You think this will be enough?” she murmured lowly, barely a breath’s distance away from his lips. She picked the packet up and slipped it in her pocket, just in case the guy came back and wanted to know why Tim hadn’t indulged in his party favor.

“Should be,” he answered. “I doubt we’ll have to crash here for much longer.” She caught his drift, the double speak in which they’d been forced to communicate now like a second language to her. She almost felt bad for the skinheads, but also not at all. They had taken her and Tim in so easily, buying their story about being drug dealers on the run and in the market for a new buyer and club, and without too much scrutiny. As soon as they found out Lucy really could cook the goods, it was all downhill from there. They’d worked them over but good, and with only a few bruises to show for it.

Tim’s initiation had happened earlier that very day. The only requirement beyond the “loyalty” he showed and the drugs they provided was to fight one of the street level guys. Needless to say, he’d laid the man out cold on the concrete, and quite spectacularly. Tim had chalked it up to self-defense, so it wasn’t technically illegal, but anyone who saw how quickly he took the upper hand might have argued differently. Lucy was no stranger to that side of Tim, though it had been a while since she’d seen it. He was amped up for hours after, and it had taken her forever to finally get him to sit still long enough for her to patch up the few cuts he had. Later, when they’d been alone in their crappy motel room, he’d apologized for going too far…for the way he’d practically attacked her immediately afterwards.

Tim was breathing hard, the front of his shirt soaked in sweat, blood bright on his jaw and lip as he stalked towards her. The man he’d been given to fight laid unmoving on the ground, a nasty cut above his right eye. The rest of the bikers were cheering and whooping behind him, some calling Tim “brother,” other’s catcalling as he grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her roughly against him.

“Yeah, get your girl, Jake. That was a damn good fight!” the gang’s leader, Black Foot, jeered above all the rest. Lucy had no time to react before Tim was kissing her hard, both hands gripping her ass as he hauled her upwards, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist as she held on for dear life. His lips were forceful and the kiss sharp, the smooth glide of his tongue over hers the only softness to it. She tasted the salt of his blood and sweat, and felt him as her core grinded against his. Once her brain finally caught up with what was happening, she made sure to rake those fake nails through his gelled hair, mussing it to the point where it almost looked like normal. It went on for way longer than it needed to, until her face began to sting from his beard as it scraped harshly against her skin, but she honestly didn’t care. No one had ever kissed her like that before; nothing even came close. She was panting by the end of it, legs cramping as he finally lowered her back to the ground.

“Party at the clubhouse! We have a new initiate!” Black Foot hollered, the others shouting wildly behind him. Lucy swiped her thumb over the lipstick she’d left on Tim’s lips, his gaze and breath heavy as he kept her close, hands rough against her skin as they slid under both her leather jacket and t-shirt.

Yeah, she was so totally screwed.

“Think it’s about time we went somewhere more private?” Tim asked, those same hands running up and down her sides, his eyes fixed on the door. It was just a tad conspicuous, so Lucy leaned in and pressed her lips against his softly, bringing his attention immediately back to her.

“When I’m feeling it,” she answered, pecking his lips again just because she could. “Don’t get too excited.”

They were waiting for Nyla’s signal. Some errant delivery guy was supposed to knock on the door with Chinese food, and when he did, they’d know it was time to get out of the line of fire. She figured it wouldn’t be too long now, the camera Lucy had in her purse picking up more than enough to give them probable cause. It was just a waiting game at this point.

“You’re the boss,” he sighed, shifting under her. His leg accidentally brushed her center, and Lucy inhaled sharply. The look in his eyes was a tad too knowing for her liking.

Maybe not so accidentally.

“Seriously?” she hissed, and he had the nerve to look offended.

“My leg was falling asleep.”

“Yeah, sure it was, Jake,” she whispered, scootching herself further up his legs.

“Lu – Chrissy,” he growled. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” she asked, tilting her head. An evil thought began to take hold, and she couldn’t help the smirk that slowly spread across her face. Before Tim could answer, Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her chest against his, the push-up bra Angela had no doubt snuck into her undercover wardrobe being put to good use as her cleavage spilled from the top of her plunging, ripped tee.

“What are you doing?” he demanded lowly, eyes closed as she leaned even further against him.

Lucy put her lips against his ear, whispering softy. “My job, sir.”

His grip on her sides tightened almost painfully, the glee at having garnered a reaction sparking through her. There was absolutely no denying the way she was affecting him, and at that moment, despite not knowing where “Chrissy” ended and “Lucy” began, it gave her no less pleasure as he cursed filthily into her hair before grasping the back of her neck and hauling her lips against his.

Yeah, she was screwed, and no, things were not going to be the same after this. Lucy had ignored the most important advice Nyla could have given her. She was in far too deep, and utterly lost in the way Tim, not Jake, kissed her.

Even as that loud knock resounded throughout the room moments later, and they immediately broke apart, back to business and readying for the breach, Lucy knew she wouldn’t be able to sit beside Tim in that shop again. Not if it meant pretending this never happened. Not if he expected her to play along like normal, like her world hadn’t been completely flipped on its head. This was the turning point, the moment where something either began or ended, and she found herself wishing with everything she had that there was still so much more to come.

#chenford #chenford fanfic #tim x lucy

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