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r0semultiverse · 18 days

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Was Celia drunk as fuck or is this something supernatural?? 👀

Who the fuck is Jack?? 👀

Alice is such a delight, I love her!

Oof so one or both of them have trauma involving grandparents then.

I love Samama & Alice so much. 💜 They have a great dynamic!

Oh shit, right, Gwen is probably still getting over Mr. Bonzo too. 👀

"I just… I dunno. When I left the coffee shop, it felt like someone was following me."

Please don't take away Alice, she's one of my faves! I hope this post doesn't age poorly. Watch me have to quote this post very soon.

OH NO, is it that [ERROR] following her??? 😰

"Don’t joke about that, mate. I was dreaming about it all day." Okay, yeah, that's a creature.

Sam & Alice are both about to run into a creature... 👀

"Classifying unspeakable horrors all night for no discernible reason?" @/entities-of-posts & @/which-entity-this-post-serves is that you? :]

Hmm, now why is this episode called "marked?" I assumed Mr. Bonzo was gonna find his mark, but maybe Alice is marked by an entity/creature that was locked in the Magnus Institute?

"giving up the ghost" okay so someone saw an apparition? Honestly not sure what entity this episode is about so far.

It's giving The Corruption ✨🧟‍♀️⚰️ (maybe The Buried)

"It’s just that one of the graves had a body in that was too well-preserved for the age it should have been." 👀👀👀

This thing is about to jump out of the grave & run off, isn't it? 🏃‍♂️

"The back was completely covered in this complicated tattoo of a ship sailing across an open sea towards an open horizon." Peter Lukas?!?!?

Oh 100% The Buried, without a shadow of a doubt.

Lots of tattoo & carvings in walls imagery in this sequel prequel sidequel, isn't there? 👀

Hey wait, that's Ink5oul from episode 2, isn't it? 👀 Ink5oul definitely feels like a conduit or vessel for The Flesh or some other kind of entity.

Okay, there's something weird going on with this place, the salt water & waves near this cemetery are kind of seemingly enticing them to come drown in it's waters. In the very least it's messing with these guys' mental states! Pretty freakkyyyy! 👀🌊

Also the repeated emphasis on dreams is interesting this episode, wonder if that'll play a part in something later on. 👀👀

"If it’s any consolation, he’s with the sea now. The deep will care for his bones." I literally called it!!

I think Gordon Alan Johnson also wants to be with David. 👀🌊🌊

I don't know, Gordie, I think you did it! Unless Ink5oul is collecting tattoos like an alternate universe version of the Leitner books. Wait yeah, what if the tattoos are like conduits for the entities of this world or even the original one? 🖌

Another way to look at this is asking... Is The Deep a new entity/fear or is it a servant of a fear like The Vast? I stg there was a colossal water monster at some point in The Magnus Archives!

Okay so yeah, there's already a precedent for this. Also feels like The Lonely, The Buried, The Corruption, The Vast, & maybe even The Flesh are all involved in this one though I don't know if Flesh (Ink5oul) is working with or against the other fears at this time.

Gwen, you can tell your coworkers what's wrong, oh my fucking god. Please. Celia, you have me so invested in whatever is going on with you.

Weird unexplained noise at 17:44 too as Celia enters the office. Wonder what that's all about, maybe it'll come up later on.

"He is one of our Externals." Okay; so, there's more of them & they have their own secret hitman title too!

Mr. Bonzo when he was on TV

"And they usually like it." I bet fear creatures do like it when you scream. That makes a lot of sense actually.

Also what's that weird "boowomp" noise as they're talking or is it just the OST? 👀

Is Gwen going to be turned into something not quite human at some point? Just throwing darts at a board with that speculation, but wouldn't that be wild?

Okay; so, these little digitized noises are absolutely important!

I wonder how many times & when people have lied so far throughout this season. 👁️👁️

#someone should draw those two ( sam & alice ) in the style of that show at this rate. I have more questions every week i stg #is mr. bonzo gonna find his mark or is Alice dyer marked by [ERROR] place your bets!#okay so themes of coffins; decay; & rotting things; feels like the corruption or maybe even the buried #I stg if that weirdly aged guy is Peter Lukas somehow I'm gonna scream; it's an AU; anything can happen #Love seeing Ink5oul again; it's cool that they aren't just a one off character & are getting involved in the greater story #leitner tattoos canon??? maybe?? is this the equivalent of jurgen leitner books?? perhaps #the big water monster is giving The Vast energy; a lot of these feel like fear entities collaborating in this world #now I'm curious who the other externals are... is ink5oul one of them? They seemed to delight in reactions.#is this government organization called the magnus institute or what do they call themselves now? also who is mr bonzo after?#I wonder if the black ops guys that showed up to that charity place on hilltop were a counter organization or the government?#mine #op #tmagp liveblog #tmagp 11 #tmagp spoilers #tma spoilers #tma #tmagp #the magnus archives #the magnus protocol

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magnoliacharmed · 1 year

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I’ll Show You A Winner

(not my gif!)

18+, Shawn Michaels x Fem!Reader one shot

[Also available on Archive of Our Own!]

Word count: 1,282

Tags: Referenced drug use (cocaine), Referenced alcohol use, rough sex, hair pulling, choking, face slapping, voice kink, scratching, biting, bruises, condomless sex, reader is a total bitch, Shawn is mean

Summary:

Shawn gets mean with you after you make fun of him for losing a match.

Author's note: haha... yeah

“Aww, are you mad Shawn? Gonna cry about another lost match? God, you’re such a pussy sometimes.”

“What’d you say?”

“I said that you’re a crybaby. Mad that the world doesn’t always revolve around you. Guess all that politicking with Vince didn’t work, huh?”

“Hmm.”

“Didn’t wear your prettiest earrings to his office?”

Suddenly Shawn’s weight engulfed you into the plush mattress. Man he could move fast. His face was splotchy red after the last few hours you two spent drinking and snorting cocaine. It was a poor choice for the night since he was already in such a sour mood. As the hours passed by, he got angrier and angrier. The way you were picking at him wasn’t helping either.

“Some man you are.”

Your noses touched and his light smattering of facial hair scratched against you as he stared into your eyes. His breathing was heavy, so heavy you would’ve thought he just got done in the ring. The way his head cocked to the side made a warning sign flash in your head. The bull was being prodded too much. You didn’t have time to get another insult ready when Shawn’s hand clenched hard into your hair. It felt like he was going to tear it out with how strong his grip was. The pain radiated through your head and neck in a strangely delicious way.

“You wanna see what kinda man I am, honey? I’ll show you.”

Shawn’s breathing quickened as he moved his free hand down to unhook his belt. Just as soon as his pants were down enough, he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Your lips moved in a whispered frenzy by his ear, blond locks of his wavy hair shielding the rest of the room from you. “Can you even get it up, cokehead?” Your laugh was mean… and just the slightest bit panicked.

“Keep talkin’. I’ll shut you up soon enough.”

Shawn’s voice lacked the passion it usually had when he was pissed. You knew that when he was yelling and screaming it would pass pretty shortly. He just needed an outlet. When he was truly upset though? His already deep and raspy tone got even lower. It made your panties flood and your eyes widen. You were really in for it now.

With an aggressive push into you, Shawn began to thrust against your walls. You weren’t quite as prepared as usual, so your voice exclaimed out with a squeak. He continued to stare in your eyes with a look that was miles past angry. There was determination flowing through his veins to win. He couldn’t succeed in the ring tonight, that much was true. But he could make you shut up and could definitely make you come.

Your own hand flew up to grasp at his hair with force. Two could play that game. The feeling of you being so close to pulling it out made him go harder inside you. made him feel alive even more so than the coke. His neck strained as he reached down to kiss you roughly with no warning. Your muscles tightened around his length when his teeth bit your bottom lip.

“You like it when I’m rough, don’t you? Such a slut for me.”

Shawn shook his head in disappointment, but you both knew that he was loving this. His accent, that Texan drawl that made you melt, was especially heavy when he spoke. He could be as harsh as he wanted— as long as he kept talking you through it.

Before you could respond back, Shawn released his grip from your hair and instead wrapped his hand around your neck. You gushed below him, wet sounds filling the room when you adjusted your legs to surround his waist. You got a little dazed and lightheaded at the lack of air you were getting. Mirroring him, you decided to choke him back. It was too bad you weren’t strong enough to put as much pressure on his neck as he had on yours, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. The slight squeeze you could give was enough for him to groan loudly above you.

Your vision darkened around the edges. Shawn was pounding you into the mattress while he continued to restrict your airflow. You did your best to grind into every one of his forceful thrusts, your clit shooting bolts of pleasure through you whenever it brushed against him. He smiled at you in that cocky sort of way he liked to whenever he was winning. You got some air back when he moved your head up to angle more at him. He was fucking the bitchy resolve right out of you, tears building at the corners of your eyes at how he stretched you out.

“And look who’s crying now! It’s so pathetic it’s cute.” His cruel voice rumbled and reverberated through your body in hedonistic bliss.

Shawn used his other hand to grab your jaw and hold you in place. He was much stronger than you and your body was beginning to get weak at the impending orgasm threatening to wrack through you. Those soft blue eyes of his were crazed when he stuck his tongue out. You immediately stuck yours out too to swirl around his lewdly, hoping he’d push you into another kiss. Despite everything he’d been doing to you, this felt the most inappropriate.

That was until he slapped you.

It wasn’t very hard at all. It was more of a surprise than anything. Shawn immediately caressed the stinging skin of your cheek, then rubbed the pad of his thumb against your bruised bottom lip. With little force he pushed his thumb into your mouth for you to suck on. You did so gratefully with a dumb sort of expression on your face.

A mocking sigh breathed from his lips. “You disgust me.”

Stars began to overtake your vision before your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hands pawed at his back in desperation. The deep scratches you were leaving weren’t your problem. He could just keep his shirt on the next time he had to be on TV. With every claw mark up the expanse of his well toned back Shawn’s movements stuttered even more. The way you looked at him right before you came, so innocent and doe eyed, sent him right past the edge and over the moon. Shawn filled you with his come until his entire body fell limp above you. It took the last little bit of energy he had to unwrap your legs from around him and roll over to the other side of the bed.

Both of you laid on your backs and breathed heavily into the open air. You felt Shawn shift beside you to stare at your heaving chest. Your cheek didn’t look too bad, but your bottom lip was puffy and your neck was bruised. Your hair was a bird’s nest above you from the pulling. Shawn wasn’t in great shape either. The scratches on his back actually hurt down now that the adrenaline was fading. The alcohol and coke made his face bloated and a headache form at his temples. He was pretty sure that strands of his already thinning hair were pulled out from the way you grabbed at him. Your nails dug marks into the side of his neck that were hard to look at.

In the end, none of that mattered. He won.

“Fuck, Shawn. That was amazing.” Your voice was laced with awe.

“Of course it was, honey.”

“That’s cause you’re the best.” You dragged yourself over to lay against his chest, drowsiness pulling you down into a deep sleep.

“Damn straight.”

#shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels #wrestling #wwe imagines #wwe smut #wrestling fanfic #wwe fanfic #90s wwf #wwe shawn michaels #magnoliafanfic

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pinky-ghostface · 3 months

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Two Valentines Day Surprises

summary: It's Valentine's Day, a very important holiday to Alphonse and his Boo, but Seth is across the country and can't get back to them in time. Alphonse wants to cheer the reader up with a sweet surprise, but neither of them are prepared for the true surprise meant for them.

content/warnings: nsfw, femdom, pegging, strap on blowjob, deepthroating, nipple play, mmf threesome, hair pulling, p in v sex, afab gn!reader (no mention of boobs but they are referred to once as "a cruel mistress")

word count: 4.2k

wanna read it on ao3?:

A/N: I actually began this a couple years ago but finally decided to finish it😁 and things have def changed in the canon since I started. I think I thought after the Jessie/Derek situation Seth wouldn't want to settle down just yet in the little town he wasn't wanted in so long ago and would want to explore his freedom after prison and like, go on cryptid hunts or smth😚 so.. ig this is a semi AU where he does odd jobs across the country and experiences everything the road has to offer a lonely cowboy like him lol. and definitely listening to Orville Peck. also frequently communicating w Alphonse and SugarBoo bc they luv each otherrr🥰 and sometimes taking a break from his nomadic life to visit them. enjoy!

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

As I pushed my key into the lock of my front door, I heard a muttered curse from inside my home. Confused, I opened the door and peered into the kitchen to see my boyfriend’s very shapely, and completely bare, ass with just two thin strips of fabric tied behind his waist and neck to feign at covering him. “Al? I didn’t think you were coming over so soon?”

He whirled around, revealing that he was wearing nothing but my favorite apron. “Oh! Hey, boo! Uhh, what time is it… I guess I thought I’d have more time for your surprise, heh.” He grinned at me sheepishly.

“Surprise? Thought we were just gonna do dinner and a movie at home.” My eyes slid over his body as I took off my coat.

He smiled and moved closer so that he could loosely circle his arms around my hips. “I know, but I could tell you were kind of bummed about Seth not being here for Valentine’s Day, and I wanted to do somethin’ nice and romantic for you to cheer you up.”

I smiled a little sadly and leaned my head into his shoulder. It was hard not seeing our other partner every day, but we both understood how important traveling and going on adventures was to him. We texted and called often, and Alphonse and I had been together long enough before Seth crashed back into Al’s life and cannonballed into mine that we were more than okay on our own. We talked about him daily, and on days when one of us missed him a little too much the other would be there to reminisce, joke, cuddle, and comfort until the ache went away.

“But I guess that didn’t really work out, huh?” Al said, interrupting my thoughts.

I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?...oh.” I looked over his shoulder at the rest of my kitchen for the first time since walking in. I guessed I hadn’t smelled the burnt cupcakes that were sitting dejectedly on the stovetop. They were black on top and red goo was periodically dripping over the sides of the muffin tin.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “You’re lucky I already cleaned up the spilled cake mix from the walls, the eggs I dropped, the… exploded buttercream frosting.” He shuddered. “Sorry, baby. I kind of messed up your kitchen for nothing. I don’t think those abominations can be saved.”

I smiled up at him and brought my hand to his cheek. “Al, it’s fine. Really. It won’t take too long to scrub out the muffin tray, so we can have even more time together tonight. I’m glad you came over early!”

He pulled me closer and buried his head in the crook of my neck, whining. “I know, but I had, like, a whole thing planned out! I was gonna make a bunch of red velvet cupcakes for you so you could take a break from baking for once, and turn the lights down and do the ‘rose petals on the floor going to the bath’ thing and meet you in the bathroom with the cupcakes like this,” he gestured to himself with one arm, his face still in my neck. “And I was gonna feed you your cupcakes in the bath and give you a back rub and maybe even try to call Brown Eyes if he hadn’t left his rest stop yet…”

“Babe,” I said, halting his rambling. “We can still do all that, even without the baked surprise. I mean, I was pretty surprised just coming home to this, anyway.” I ran a finger underneath the apron ribbon on his waist. ‘I have so many treats already in the fridge for us, you have no idea. We’re gonna have a great Valentine’s Day.”

He held me tighter and nodded but said nothing for a moment. After a few seconds, I heard him sigh through his nose. “I just miss him, y’know? This was supposed to be the first Valentine’s we all spent together. It just sucks we didn’t tell him we wanted to do something sooner so he could have time to get up here. I wanted to make it up to you a little bit.”

Oh. I turned my head to look at him so that he was forced to take his head off my shoulder, and I wound my arms more fully around his waist, he and I chest-to-chest and my face looking up at his pouting one. “Alphonse, you don’t have anything to make up to me. I know this isn’t what we were picturing, but it isn’t either of our faults, and I’m still prepared to have an awesome, romantic, sexy Valentine’s Day with you. Seth should be stopping for the night near New Mexico in a couple hours; we can talk to him then. Until then we can have plenty of fun on our own, right?”

Al smiled and leaned in even closer so our lips were just barely touching. “Yeah,” he breathed. “That sounds good. Now we’ve got more time to spoil each other, anyway. We don’t need that crybaby to have fun.”

I laughed against his mouth. “Careful. You looked about ready to cry, yourself when I walked in.” His lips curved up playfully for a moment before quickly leaning in to kiss me. My hands gripped his waist more firmly in surprise, and he tightened his arms even further around me, pressing us fully together so his hands could move up my back. My left hand drifted downward to shamelessly squeeze his bare ass cheek. As my fingertips drew closer inward, they brushed something… plastic?

I broke the kiss to look up at him in shock. I was met with cocked eyebrows and a toothy grin in silent response. “That would be the other part of your surprise. You’ve been puttin’ out vibes that you wanted to take control lately, and I thought tonight would be the perfect time to make a night of it.”

I gasped in elation, smiling wildly, and kissed him hard for a moment. As I pulled away, I gave him a light swat on the butt and told him, “Get the strap.”

“Yes, Boss!” he said, still grinning, but instead of moving past me to reach the bedroom, he turned around and retrieved my bubblegum pink strap on dildo and harness from behind the coffee pot on a nearby counter.

Naughty boy, he’d planned out more than I’d thought.

He handed it to me, smug as ever. I undressed quickly and performed the awkward, yet familiar dance of shimmying into the harness. Al and I exchanged one more lingering, messy kiss before he took a step back and sank to his knees.

My eyebrows quirked in surprise as I gazed down at him, amused and loving. “Aw, you wanna choke on my strap, baby?” I teased. He smoothed his hands up my thighs, half-lidded eyes never leaving their gaze. “You know I’d love nothing more,” he mumbled against the tip. He took it into his mouth, sucking softly, and worked his way to the base quickly. As the tip hit the back of his throat, he pushed on, gagging slightly. I raked my nails through the hair on the back of his head, grabbing a handful to help him down. He choked loudly, and his hands tightened on the backs of my thighs, nearly making my knees buckle. A strand of drool hung down, reaching his chest, and he moaned deeply through his nose as he continued to deepthroat me. By now his cheeks were rosy flushed and tears were begging to fall from their perch on his long, dark lashes. “So pretty,” I murmured, pushing my fingers through his bright, slightly bleach-damaged hair more gently now, softly scratching his scalp. He looked up at me with an expression that could only be described as adoring, and I loved him for it. “My good boy.”

“Mmm…” he groaned at the praise.

I tugged him off my strap and squeezed his shoulder, telling him to get up. When he got on his feet, he kissed me hard, wet mouth exploring mine, our teeth clashing a bit. He held on to me tightly and I embraced him, enjoying his being so desperate already. It was really no surprise he had such an oral fixation with all the lollipops he sucked on all day.

With my arms around his waist and hands rubbing his lower back, I turned my face upwards so my lips could brush his ear and whisper: “Since you’ve done such a good job of getting my cock wet, I’d guess you were ready to let me bend you over that table and make you see tweety birds.”

He lifted his head up from my shoulder and smiled dopily. “If I had to guess, I’d say you were onto somethin’, boo.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to mine to whisper to me huskily. “I want you to mess me up.”

With that confirmation, I pulled him with me toward my kitchen table, kissing him all the while. I turned us so his back was to the table and ran my hands up his chest, to his shoulders, to his neck, and gently began to tug at the bow holding the apron up. “I have been dying to tear this off you since the second I walked in,” I huffed hurriedly.

Alphonse leaned down so our faces were even and looked at me with dark, dilated eyes. “Well, I promise not to keep you waiting if you promise not to tease.” I laughed and gripped his chin harshly. “Al, sweetheart, you’re really not in a position to be making deals like that.” I slowly pulled at the ribbon string in my hand until the bow loosened, and the light fabric that sparsely covered him fell off his defined chest, spilling around the attractive “v” of his hips and exposing his dark happy trail. “If you want me to give you what you need, you’ll need to accept that I can do anything I want to you.” I leaned in to nibble and suck at his neck, and he sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth. My other hand teased down the top of his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, and paused to tweak a nipple. He yelped a bit, and when I let go of his chin, his head rolled back. My hand continued down to his hard cock, his raspy breaths keeping time with slow, languid strokes while his hips tried to buck up into my fist. I circled his tip with my thumb lightly, teasingly.

“You’re a cruel mistress, you know that?” he said to the ceiling. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love it, but it’s true. And as for what position I’m s’posed to be in, I’ll let you worry about that.” He opened one eye and looked at me. “You know I’ve never objected to you doing anything you wanted to me before.”

“Hmm,” I mused, finishing a necklace of hickies across his clavicle. “Well, if that’s the case…” I grabbed his hips and turned him around quickly. He grunted in surprise and planted his hands on the table quickly to catch himself. He looked back at me with wide yet delighted eyes. “You wouldn’t mind if I finish what you started, would you?” I held the base of his plug in my fingertips, twisting it just a little, for emphasis.

“Hah!... “Course not, Boss. You know I’m yours to play with however you please.” he said, a bit strained, and leaned even farther over the table. “Good,” I whispered, and eased the buttplug out of him. He exhaled slowly and forcefully, and eased his back into an arch. I placed it on the counter next to me. I smoothed one hand up his spine, admiring the pale expanse of his back and the cute pink bow still tied around his waist. With the other, I lined my pink dildo up to his hole and slowly, slowly, began to push in. “Mm!” Alphonse cried, stifled. I eased in carefully, rubbing his back and cooing at him the whole time.

Once completely inside, Al moaned loudly and pushed his hips back more to try and grind on my cock. To his disappointment, I almost completely pulled out of him. But before he could protest, I swiftly pushed in all the way, rubbing against his prostate.

“Fuck, ohh, christ,” he choked out. I laughed a little at his reaction and kept fucking him the same way: slow and hard.

I took the time to admire him- his fluffy hair mussed up, his cheek smooshed into the table, his eyebrows drawn together wantonly, and deep, rhythmic moans falling from them. My eyes drifted lower, loving the way the sheer of sweat on his lean back made his skin shine. Even lower, that bubble butt was still making me lose focus, rippling from the force of my hips meeting it with every thrust.

And with every thrust, the base of the dildo ground into my clit, making me drive forward more quickly, more harshly, chasing the sweet sensation. I unknowingly gave Alphonse exactly what he wanted, it seemed, because he melted beneath me. His knees nearly gave out and he looked back at me, panting slightly. “Does that feel good, baby?” I grinned at him. “Nnghh,” he replied, letting his head fall back down.

The building pleasure below and seeing his sweet expression gave me an idea for something else I wanted from him.

I slowed down and pumped into him a few more times, then pulled out gingerly; he whined in confusion and tried to turn around. I leaned over him fully and put my lips next to his ear. “I want to ride your dick so I can see your pretty face when you come in me.” He picked his head up again, leaving behind a small pool of saliva, and grinned tiredly and replied, “If I can walk to the couch, you can make this already good Valentine’s Day a great one, boo.”

When I pulled him up, the apron fell off him completely and he hugged me around my neck, leaning most of his weight on me. It must have looked funny, this lanky guy hanging off me, half-carrying him to the living room, and shoving him backwards onto my couch. He fell with little effort and a small oof. He looked up at me as I wriggled out of the harness, kicked it aside, and moved to straddle his thighs, and he said breathlessly, “Come take what’s yours.”

His dick was flushed pink and leaking against his stomach. So pretty. I took it in my hand and stroked it slowly, and at the same time leant forward and kissed him firmly. “I intend to,” I whispered against his lips, to which he smiled and squeezed my hips in his hands. I lifted my hips and guided his cock to my hole, and slowly sank down, moaning. I was already so wet from fucking him, and he slid in so easily. As the backs of my thighs met his hips, he threw his head back and let out a long, low sound through parted lips. With one hand on his chest and the other beside his head, I began to rock slowly, murmuring praise to him all the while. His hands slid up my body and he was begging me to go faster between whimpers, so I gently took his wrists in both my hands and pinned them on either side of his head on the armrest. He flexed his arms, but didn’t try to break free. His eyes were squeezed shut as I sucked on his neck, leaving a new rainbow of hickies.

As I worked my way up to his jawline, I heard him suck in a harsh breath and he tried to sit up quickly. I blurted his name, confused, and sat back to look at him. His wide-eyed gaze was fixed behind me, towards the door, and I heard a low chuckle. Before I could turn around in surprise, or get myself off my man’s dick so I could fight off an intruder, a warm, rough hand curled around my waist and a familiar face leaned its chin on my shoulder.

“Well, ain’t this a pretty sight to come home to,” a deep voice drawled. He may have also said something teasing us for having so much fun without him, but Alphonse or I’d have no way of knowing because once I- ahem- removed him, we were all over Seth, hugging him and asking how on earth he made it all the way here. Once we’d settled in a pile, all of us kind of sitting on everyone else, he began to explain.

“You knuckleheads really thought I’d miss Valentine’s Day?” he laughed between kisses. “I’m no dummy, I know how y’all feel about it. I just thought I’d surprise you and tell you I was farther away than I was, but I’ve been making my way back to you for the last five days.” He had one arm around my shoulders and cupped Alphonse’s face with the other. “I thought when I got back y’all would be moping around, missin’ me. Instead, I come home to you both screwing like jackalopes without a care in the world.” he teased, pouting.

Alphonse huffed. “What, we’re just supposed to spend our favorite holiday cryin’ our eyes out over you? That ain’t fair!”

“Mmm, I think he just means he missed being included in our cuddle puddle,” I purred and leaned my head on Al’s shoulder.

“That, or the idea of you two being horny-sad thinkin’ of me keeps me warm on lonely nights.”

I glared at Seth. “You aren’t helping.”

He laughed. “No, but I love the look on my bubblegum prince’s face when he’s trying to be mad at me.” He leaned in close so he was an inch from Al’s flustered face. “But really he’s dyin’ to be put right back on his back so I can really show him how much I missed him.”

The poor man’s blush deepened, and he grumbled a little.

I smiled and wrapped my arms around Seth’s shoulders, pulling him back so we were both staring at Al. “I think he needs us, don’t you agree? Maybe you could help me put him back in his place.”

“Oh, no, sugar, this here’s your battle. As much as I’d love to beat the brat out of him, I’m too tired to really give it my all. I’d prefer to hang back and take a more… supporting role.” He smooched the side of my neck and leaned back.

Grinning at Al, I put my hand on his chest and started to push him back down like he was. “Well, baby? You gonna put up a fight now that you know big bad Seth’s not gonna force you to sit pretty for me?”

He shook his head and grabbed my hand to kiss it. “I’m his brat, but I’ll always behave for you, boo.”

Seth chuckled and moved to straddle Al’s thighs behind me. “Well, he knows what’s good for him, that’s for sure.”

Alphonse began to reply. “Shut up, man- agh!”

I yanked his hair sharply. “Maybe not. But we can correct that together some other time. Right now, I only care about enjoying the rest of my evening the way I’d dreamed of spending it, with both my boys.”

He whimpered softly. “Yes, Boss.”

Seth was so close to me I could feel his chest pressed against my back. He rested his chin on my shoulder again. “I always love to watch you work, sugar,” he breathed flirtily against my ear. He reached around me for Alphonse’s cock, and the second he touched it Al let out a huge sigh. He pumped it up and down in his fist a few times, surely enjoying the way his pearly precum dripped over the pink tip. I lifted my hips up so Seth could help me guide it in, and sank down, more easily this time and no less pleasurable. I could feel Seth smirking against my neck as he held onto my hip with one hand and held Al’s hand with the other.

Al was already settled back into our former rhythm with his free hand gripping the side of my thigh, head thrown back against the armrest and eyes closed in bliss, moaning with each bounce of my hips. “So glad you’re here, Seth,” he panted. “Mm! Ahh, I missed you so, fuck, so much. I really did.”

Seth let go of Al’s hand to trail it up his stomach teasingly. “Aww, Al. Well, I had to come take care of you, didn’t I?” Al’s back arched to meet his touch. I’d do the same; we were both so starved for his affection. Seth smoothed his hand back down Alphonse’s torso, all the way to where our bodies met, and ran both hands all the way up my body to my shoulders, forcing me to lean back against his warm, broad chest. “Take care of both of you,” he purred. And without warning, he brushed his fingers over my nipples, sending electricity running through my body, especially my clit. I moaned his name loudly and threw my head back to rest on his shoulder. He continued to circle my nipples lightly, and my hips began to move faster even though my legs were starting to burn. Alphonse flexed his hands on my thighs and began babbling brokenly and bucking up into me at the increased sensation. Seth grabbed my hips to help me bounce and at the same time left a wet trail of tender kisses across the back of my neck and shoulders- not skimping on the teeth, either.

“Fuck, please!” Alphonse cried, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

“What do you need, baby?” I panted. I was getting close.

“Aah, m’gonna cum, please Boss, can I cum? Pleeease…”

I was about to reply when Seth spoke. “Not ‘til our sugar does.” And he began to rub my clit quickly with wet fingers. My back arched hard in shock and ecstasy so that I could hardly move at all, but they both helped me move on Al’s cock, moving faster, rubbing harder, pushing me through pulsing, all-consuming pleasure… until I fell from the threshold, rocking against Al’s cock frantically while he called my name, and falling against Seth’s chest once more into strong, safe arms. Al moaned sharply once more, and a warmth filled me and sent another wave through me. Once I opened my eyes again, Seth laid me down next to (on top of) Al and knelt down beside the couch, smiling down at us.

“Seth, honey... I missed you so much too. I’m so glad you could be here, tonight wouldn’t have been the same without you,” I said as I tucked Al’s head under my chin.

“Me too, babe. Although it seemed to me y’all were gettin’ on just fine on your own…” he glanced at the strap on discarded next to the coffee table.

Al laughed wearily. “Sure, but I ain’t this fucked out unless the both of you were involved in messin’ me up.”

“How’re you feeling, by the way? That looked like it took a lot out of you.” I said, squeezing him tight.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It was a lot, but like… so good. Y’know. I’m really good.”

“Mhm, don’t I know it.” Seth remarked. “Once sugar here works that magic, you’re a goner.” He leaned over Alphonse to kiss me, his tongue sliding over mine.

Alphonse let out a long sigh. “Guess I’m the one who needs the bath now.”

Seth huffed a chuckle into my mouth and broke away to look at him questioningly.

“I was gonna run a bath for us so we could spoil each other and eat cupcakes in it.”

“Not like that last part was gonna happen,”I snickered.

“Hey!”

Seth gasped. “You tried to make cupcakes? I was wondering who got stabbed over that stovetop when I came in.”

“Boo said it wasn’t that bad!”

I giggled, knowing their bickering was loving. “If you two are done, I think we should get on with the rest of our night. All of us are hungry and probably sore, and I know I want to spend more time cuddling in our actual bed now Seth’s here.”

Al grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked up at Seth. “I’ve been waitin’ to get my hands on you for a long time now, Brown Eyes. We gotta take advantage of a night like tonight.”

“I agree,” Seth murmured. “We’re not gonna do a thing but enjoy each other’s company.” Then he kissed him, long and deep. After they parted, he stood up, grunting. “I’m gonna go draw that bath y’all were talking about so you can rest. I’ll be back for you in a minute, so don’t go anywhere.”

“Say draw one more time,” I pleaded, smirking.

“Draw-er,” he obliged. “And don’t go teasing me about it, neither.”

“Us? Never.” Al smiled deviously. Seth stared sternly at us, then winked and turned to the bathroom. Alphonse nuzzled deeper into my arms and sighed contently. I planted a kiss into his hair and thought about how lucky I must be to have two amazing boyfriends to cherish and surprise me everyday.

꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦

A/N: I loved writing this sm and I hope you enjoyed reading it! I hope to do more stuff like this, and soon. this is actually my first fanfic (first inspired by Valentine's Day with your Submissive Boyfriend audio rp by SweetKinkAudio on p*rnhub) and I'd love any criticism or advice if you're willing to give me any💖💖💖 happy valentine's day!!

taglist: @dizzy-n-busy

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice seth #fanfic #yuurivoice bittersweet #alphonse yuurivoice #seth yuurivoice #ao3

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q-is-attempting-to-write-stuff · 1 month

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It's my turn with the time travel trope! Except, I have no clue how to explain how the time travel happened, and this will likely remain a one-shot, but still, I wanted to write one!

It takes place after episode 200, Jon and Martin somehow appear back in season one while Martin is living in the Archives.

Tim was an early bird, so, like most mornings, he was the first into the archives. He greeted Rosie as he passed her desk and traveled down the stairs to the basement, walking through the narrow hallway and into the door at the very end.

He was humming as he walked in but stopped silent, dead in his tracks, when he saw the heap of what seemed to be two people huddled together on the carpet.

One layed, completely limp, in the lap of the other, who was leaning over the first with his arms wrapped around him.

The first figure blinked open his eyes, slowly waking up, seeming dazed and groaning in pain. Tim recognized him instantly.

"M- Martin?" He sputtered in complete shock. His hair was duller, with a few white streaks running through it, and he seemed smaller, somehow, than the Martin Tim knew, but it was still unmistakably him.

Martin's head whipped around to look at Tim. Yep, it was definitely Martin. Like his hair, his eyes were a slightly duller blue, and his glasses were slightly cracked, and he had tear stains running down his cheeks.

"Tim?" Martin all but shouted, sounding just as surprised. "What are - I mean - how are you even -?" He turned his gazed down at the man in his arms and gasped.

The man was still unconscious, with a large blood stain on the chest of his shirt and, seemingly, more blood on his hands.

Tim almost recognized him as well - his hair, though longer and more gray; his face, though covered in small circular scars, along with what seemed to be a burn scar on one cheek; and he was covered head to toe in eyes - but, he looked shockingly similar to Jon.

Martin was now crying and whispering something that sounded desperate and pleading, something along the lines of "Please wake up" - though, Tim couldn't quite make out what he was saying - over and over as he cupped the man's face in his hand, that was also stained with blood. Martin seemed to notice the stain on the man's shirt and quickly un-buttoned it to see the wound.

To both his and Tim's surprise, there was no wound. Then, the man's eyes fluttered open.

"Jon," Martin breathed, voice filled with relief, as he brought his hand back up to the man's face. "You're alive!"

"Y-yes," the man - Jon - 's voice was hoarse, "and you're here, too." He, too, began to cry, reaching his own hand up to hold Martin's face.

Martin leaned down and pulled Jon into a hug, and they sobbed in one another's arms.

Martin pulled back, "I - I thought -"

"Yeah," Jon cut him off, then a sad smile spread across his face, and his voice broke a little, "but we're okay."

"Yeah," Martin said, smiling down at him as well. He pulled Jon into a kiss, and they sat, smiling fondly at one another for quite a while.

Then, Jon's smile faded, and he asked, "Where - where are we?"

Martin looked up and gazed at the room. "The Archives?" He said, a bit surprised. Then he locked eyes with Tim, once again.

"Oh!" Martin stammered as if he'd forgotten he was there, "Tim, right! You're - You're here? You're alive!"

Tim stared down at the two of them, at Martin's smiling face and Jon look of complete confusion, and eventually managed to push the words, "Who are you?" from his mouth.

"Tim, it's us, Martin a- and Jon," Martin said, still smiling.

"No," Tim was shaking now, "No. Nope. You are not. You are not Jon, and you are not Martin. Who are you?"

Martin's smile dropped.

"Tim, it's alright, i-it's us," Jon said, beginning to sit up more, but remaining in Martin's lap.

"Jon doesn't look like that," Tim said hesitantly.

"I know it's been a while, but it is us."

"No, I saw the real Jon yesterday. So, who are you?" Tim demanded again.

"What? No. We haven't seen you in at least a year. I mean - not since the unknowing, and we thought you were dead!"

Tim began to laugh nervously and took a few steps back.

"Alright," he said, his voice beginning to shake, "I don't know what this is - or who you are - but you need to get out, or I'm going to call the police."

"Wha- I mean, are they even going to come?" Martin asked nervously.

"Is everything back to normal?" Jon's voice was filled with hope and anxiety.

"'Back to normal'? " Tim repeated, clearly confused.

"Yes. Did the world turn back?"

"'Back'?" Tim repeated again.

"Yes," Jon seemed to be growing impatient. "Is it fixed? The fears - are they gone?"

"I don't know what you're on about, but you need to leave," Tim, by this point, had almost made it to the door.

Just then, Jon - another Jon, one who seemed much more put together and didn't have any scars across his face - walked in the room, staring intently at something on his phone. He stopped when he nearly ran into Tim, then looked to the Jon and Martin sitting on the floor.

"Martin? What's going on? And who is that?" He asked, refering to the Jon in Martin's arms. Then, his eyes grew wide as he looked at the blood on each of them and the eyes covering the other Jon.

Martin looked to his Jon, "Jon, what's going on?"

Jon just stared in confusion at all the people in front of him, then seemed to gather his thoughts.

"Just, hold on a second," grumbled, then closed his eyes (well, the two on his face - the rest that covered him remained open) and static began to buzz throughout the room.

"Right," Jon said, opening the two eyes on his face and turning to Martin, "It's April twenty-second... 2016."

"What?" Martin sputtered, then laughed nervously, "No, this all started - or, the world ended, or whatever - eighteenth of October in 2018, Jon!"

"I know, Martin," Jon's voice now seemed to be getting a bit frustrated, "we must've traveled with the fears and gotten pulled into some weird time travel nonsense." Jon brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes, wincing a bit.

Martin wrapped an arm around him. "Are you alright?" He asked softly.

"Fine," Jon grumbled. He brought his hand down, but his eyes remained shut. "Goodness, I've got a splitting headache."

Martin hummed in concern.

"Sorry -" Tim interrupted ,"- The world ended?"

Jon sighed.

"Yes," he said flatly, "And we'll explain everything. Just give me a moment."

Jon once again shut his eyes, presumably to Know something again, but the static was interrupted by another person entering the room.

Dressed in his PJs, gripping a small bag and a bundle of clothes in his hands, and rubbing sleep from his eyes, another Martin was walking from the direction of document storage.

This Martin was brighter. His hair had no white, and his eyes were a deep blue. He, even though he'd just woken up, seemed significantly less tired than the Martin on the floor.

He froze about two feet away from the others in the room. His mouth hung slightly open as he looked from a standing Jon to a much more disheveled Jon, who was also sitting in the lap of a man who looked a lot like himself.

He looked a moment longer between the four people in front of him before snapping his mouth shut and muttering a disbelieving "Right, yeah... sure" and walking out of the room.

#i apologize for such an abrupt ending but i didnt know how else to end it #tma jmart #martin k blackwood #jon sims #tma s1 #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #jonathan sims #tma time travel au #timothy stoker #Martin and Jon ×2 #fanfic

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boredcoldandhungry · 2 months

Text

So, I'm Daydreaming (With My Chin in the Palm of My Hands) Chapter 18 out now!

Chapter Snippet:

"That's Drew's favorite movie? I've seen DC movies better than that," Nico said, full volume this time.

Will rolled his eyes, very aware of the hand still locked with his, still wondering where he got the guts to grab Nico's hand like that.

"Apparently she went to see if a few weeks ago and it just changed. her. life."

Nico giggled and sipped on the fountain drink he was still holding from the theatre. Will wondered if it was his imagination or if Nico was shifting closer to him as they walked down the street.

"Next time I get to pick the movie," Nico said, stopping them briefly to toss his cup into a garbage can.

"Next time? Not sick of me yet?" Will joked.Nico pursed his lips and made a mock thinking face. "No not yet."

Will smiled, "Thank God"

Nico giggled. And, yeah, he was definitely getting closer as they walked down the street, they were now shoulder to shoulder.

#nico di angelo #will solace #ao3 fanfic #solangelo #fanfic #solangelo fanfiction #percy jackon and the olympians #the sun and the star #pjo #I'm back from the dead #procrastinations a bitch #so are finals

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thatfanfictionchick · 6 days

Text

This is intended to be...archival, for myself, mostly. But if you find it interesting you should definitely check out Ikemen Villains!

Ikevil Event - Wrapped in Wicked Romance pt.2

Harrison's Route Premium End

·✦...·✧

Owner: “What?!”

(Please, please let it land on six!)

The ball continued to roll and then…landed on six.

(Y-yes! Harrison was right!)

I glanced over at him and he smiled briefly at me.

Harrison: “Looks like we won all of it. And it’s a big win.”

Owner: “You bet it all on six?! But why? That’s impossible!”

Harrison: “That’s odd. You’re speaking as if there was no way the ball would hit six naturally.”

Owner: “This match is invalid! I was competing with you, not your girlfriend! Any bets she made are invalid!”

Harrison: “No. I told you before that ‘we’ were going to predict the number the ball would land on.”

(Harrison’s acting like his usual self again.)

Owner: “Who ARE you?”

Harrison: “As if I’m just going to tell you.”

Harrison grabbed the owner by his necktie and pulled him close.

Harrison: “You’re swindling innocent people out of their money.”

Harrison: “Then you’re using that money to fund your criminal organization.”

Harrison: “And you’re the boss of that organization. Being the casino owner is just a front.”

Owner: “...You must want something from me, then.”

Harrison: “Haha. I like it, straight to the point. You must have someone cooperating with you to keep everything running smoothly.”

Harrison: “Give me the evidence and I’ll keep quiet about what you’ve been up to.”

Harrison: “Well? What will you do?”

Owner: “Fine. I’ll give you the evidence. Come with me.”

Harrison: “Hey, Kate.”

Harrison: “Stay right behind me unless you wanna die.”

As we passed through the glitzy casino, we were led deeper and deeper into the building, to a back room.

The owner took out a stack of papers from a locked desk.

Owner: “Here’s proof of the connection to our collaborator.”

Harrison: “All right. Hand it over.”

Owner: “Sure. But first…”

The casino owner took out a gun from his suit pocket and aimed it at us.

(...Well, that’s not good.)

Owner: “I’d like you and that young lady to disappear.”

(What should I do…?)

My heart pounded out of control as he pointed the gun at me.

Harrison: “It’s all right, Kate. I wouldn’t let him kill my girlfriend so easily.”

He whispered in my ear and gave me his usual, easygoing smile.

(What’s he got up his sleeve?)

Harrison: “Go ahead and try it, then.”

Harrison: “But I don’t think you’re capable of killing us at the moment.”

Owner: “Wh-what…? My vision is…”

Owner: “Argh…”

The owner’s body lurched to the side and he fell to the floor.

At first I thought he was dead, but…

Kate: “...Is he unconscious?”

Harrison: “Yeah, I slipped a drug that Roger concocted into his wine.”

Harrison: “It’s a very strong sleeping medicine. He’ll be out for two days.”

Harrison picked up all the papers scattered on the floor and stared at the man’s sleeping face.

Harrison: “My lies beat yours. My condolences.”

Harrison: “Let’s go home.”

Kate: “O-okay. …Huh?”

I tried to start walking, but for some reason my legs wouldn’t move.

My body was stiff and tense as the fear from having a gun pointed at me finally hit me.

Harrison: “Honestly…”

Harrison came over to me, slipped a hand beneath my knees, and lifted me up.

Kate: “Harrison…!”

Kate: “I can walk on my own. I’m fine.”

Harrison: “Nine times out of ten, people who say they’re fine aren’t fine.”

Harrison: “I’m not doing it for your sake. I just wanna get the hell out of here.”

Harrison: “So just be quiet and hold on.”

-outside-

He walked down the street carrying me in his arms.

I couldn’t read the expression on his face because he was staring straight ahead.

Kate: “Can I ask you just one thing, Harrison?”

Harrison: “Do whatever you want. Whether I answer it or not is another thing.”

Kate: “Alfons said that you were acting outside of your duties.”

Kate: “And you said today wasn’t a mission. So why did you do it?”

He didn’t answer.

I took that to mean he had no intention of telling me.

Harrison: “The only thing I can say is that I’m not some hero of justice, and I’m not the kind of person who punishes evil deeds.”

Harrison: “All I needed tonight was this information. That’s all.”

He paused, but his gaze remained trained ahead of us.

Harrison: “I threatened you and you were in a very frightening situation. You were so scared you couldn’t even walk.

Harrison: “You said you wanted to get to know me.”

Harrison: “But are you sure you still feel that way even after what you went through?”

(Wait a minute…)

Kate: “...Are you trying to warn me not to get involved?”

Harrison: “Maybe.”

Harrison stopped in front of the carriage and gently put me inside.

Harrison: “Take her back to the castle.”

Kate: “You’re not coming with me?”

Harrison: “Nope, our little charade ends here. See ya.”

He waved the carriage off, and it began moving. Harrison’s figure faded into the darkness.

A few days later…

Kate: “Sorry for having you come with me on my errands!”

Liam: “No problem! I’m the one who said I’d come, plus I’m lucky to spend some time alone with you.”

Liam and I walked through town together when someone called out to me.

Man with Mustache: “Excuse me… But aren’t you the girl I saw at the casino the other day?”

I clearly remembered him, but I wasn’t sure whether or not I should acknowledge him.

Kate: “U-um…”

Man with Mustache: “After I left, someone reported the casino to the police and they uncovered the fraud.”

Man with Mustache: “I was able to get back the money I spent there.”

Man with Mustache: “I thought the person who reported it might be your boyfriend. So…”

Kate: “...I’m sorry, I don’t know anything about that.”

Man with Mustache: “Right… Of course. Well, it’s fine if it’s a misunderstanding, but please let me say one thing.”

Man with Mustache: “I was able to buy my daughter the medication and save her. Thank you so much.”

He bowed his head and left with a bright smile on his face.

(I’m certain it was Harrison who reported it.)

He lied to me and then went back to the casino alone. I’m sure of it.

Liam: “I feel like Harrison is telling some big lie to us Crown members…”

Liam: “I want to believe that it’s a good lie. I don’t have any proof, though.”

Kate: “...I know.”

After Liam and I parted ways, I went looking for Harrison.

(Found him.)

He was sitting alone in the garden as the sun set, reading a book.

His hair swayed slightly in the cold breeze.

Harrison: “I thought I told you that having people stare at me is distracting?”

Kate: “I wanted to talk to you.”

He stared into my eyes, snapping his book shut.

Harrison: “What a coincidence. I have something to talk to you about too.”

Harrison: “Now, was that a lie or the truth?”

Fin.

[main page]

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil events #ikevil harrison

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ceo-of-sloppy-men · 2 years

Text

Spilt Sodas and Motels

Ship: Eddie Munson x GN!Reader Rating: Teen Tags: sharing a bed, sharing clothes, showering, touch-starved Eddie, pre-canon Word Count: 2535

You drum your fingers on the dash of the van, waiting for one of the guys to return with room keys. It’s been a long night, and you’re all too far from home to make it back if you want any sleep. Late-night concerts sometimes did that. It wasn’t the first time, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time.

As you waited, you stared down at your sticky shirt. Someone had spilt their water bottle with gods know what in it all over you. They were a little too drunk, and you were too close to the stage. You couldn’t wait to get your room and shower it off, even if you didn’t have a change of clothes afterwards.

“So I’ve got bad news.” You jump at Bako’s return, having been too distracted by your shirt.

“Yeah, dude? What?” Eddie grunts, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“We got the last three rooms.”

“Alright… how many beds?” Eddie presses, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Enough. This is for you two,” Bako says, shoving a key in his hands and nodding his head to you. He doesn’t wait for an argument, simply rounding the van to get the rest of the band their keys.

“Well, whattaya say? Think ya can stand sleeping in the same room as me tonight?” Eddie grins, jingling the key.

“I think I’ll live,” you laugh, shaking your head to hide the pink of your cheeks.

You rarely shared rooms, and if you did, all of you were in the same room. Splayed out across couches and the ends of beds, sometimes on the floor - desperate times for desperate measures. Apparently, today wasn’t as desperate, but there was no secondary option of the van if you got uncomfortable as it was chock full of gear and instruments. At least it was only Eddie.

Eddie’s still bouncing from the performance that ended roughly thirty minutes ago (after an hour-long encore). He bounds around the van, making sure it’s locked, before finally heading up to the second-story room. You trail behind him, letting him unlock the door and hold it open for you with a dramatic hand flourish.

“After you,” he giggles, grinning widely.

“Thanks,” you laugh, giving him a smile back before shuffling inside.

You have to physically stop yourself from grimacing when you notice that Bako had given you a room with only one bed. You swear you were going to curse him to the high Hells if he admits he did it intentionally. That’s what you get for letting it slip that you were pining something fierce for the eccentric metalhead. At least he didn’t tell him (that you know of), but still, this feels worse.

“Oh, shit. Uh, this is awkward,” he chuckles, stepping in after you, the door still open.

“Yup,” you say, lacking a better response.

“I can stay in the van if you want,” he instantly offers, surprising you as he holds out the key.

Fuck it. This is probably the last and only chance you’re ever going to get to do this.

“You and I both know the van is too full to do that. You’ll never get any sleep, and I don’t know if you realize this, but you don’t let others drive your van. I’m not letting our only driver nod off behind the wheel.”

“Are you sure? I can sleep anywhere; it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Eddie.” “Alright, alright, floor it is then,” he concedes, holding his hands up in defeat. He kicks the door shut with his foot.

You decide if you want to argue about sleeping on the floor, you could wait until you are clean.

“I’m going to go shower. Hopefully, this place has hot water,” you decide, already reaching for the hem of your shirt.

“Enjoy,” he says in a sing-song tone as you walk off.

You just smile and shake your head, tugging your shirt off as you walk away from him.

The bathroom was exactly what you’d expect from a motel on the side of a road. Tiled floor, a shower-tub combo, a toilet that definitely needs to be cleaned, and very fucking cramped. Muttering to yourself about how gross your clothes are, you strip down and turn on the water, finding instant relief as you wash the sticky substance from your skin.

Singing to yourself, you recall the concert. The way Eddie had looked on stage, complete and total concertation on his guitar. His fingers had flown across the strings as he joined in for vocals and stretched his solo on for far longer than usual. He had that wild smile on his face that you always wished he’d have when he looked at you. As if there was nothing else he loved more in the world. Scrubbing your hands over your face, the water rinsing the soap out of your hair, you mentally scold yourself. Now was not the time nor place for any of this. It never was.

A sudden knock on the door makes you jump.

“Just leaving you something,” Eddie says, stepping into the bathroom.

“Alright,” you chirp, cursing yourself for how squeaky it came out.

It feels like centuries as he does whatever he’d come in to do. You find yourself torn between wanting the curtain to be translucent or completely opaque but not daring to look. When the door finally shuts again, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in. Gods. You are hopeless.

When you finally feel clean again, you toss the curtain open only to find an almost comically folded shirt. The same shirt Eddie had been wearing. Down to the little hole on the sleeve from where he’d nicked it on a tree branch while walking in the woods.

You know it’ll probably smell like beer and sweat, but you could care less. It wasn’t your sticky shirt, and it was… okay; maybe you just really wanted to wear his shirt. It wasn’t the first time he’d lent you some of his clothes; his vest or jacket was handed over when you were particularly cold. He gave you a shirt once when you’d stayed over at the trailer to plan a joint DnD game and forgot a change of clothes, getting pizza all over your shirt because you’d been too focused on planning to notice the wall before you walked into it.

It wasn’t the first time. Or at least that’s what you told yourself when you pulled it on and looked in the mirror. It smelt like weed and old spice. Okay, maybe not as bad as you’d thought before. Definitely not as bad as a slight musk clung to it that reminded you of Eddie. The same scent that clung to the van walls and followed him around; only noticeable if you were close enough to him.

Not bothering with your pants because the shirt hung low enough, you gather your clothes and nudge open the door. He’s lounging across the bed, flipping through the TV channels, shirtless. As you step out, he looks up, eyes flickering over his shirt before he meets your gaze with his usual unreadable grin.

“Shower’s free if you want one,” you state, lacking anything better to say.

“Awesome,” he says, jumping up from the bed and lazily meandering to the shower.

You watch him go. You know you shouldn’t, but the way his skinny jeans clung to his hips and his exposed back was too much to drag your eyes away. You know he probably felt your eyes on him as he shuts the bathroom door. Intent on distracting yourself, you sit down on the bed and mimic his previous activity. Flipping through the TV channels.

There’s a two-minute delay between when the water shuts off and when he finally emerges. If his jeans hadn’t been bone dry, you would’ve thought he’d showered in them. Honestly, you wouldn’t put it past him.

“Anything good on?” he asks, flopping down onto the bed next to you.

“It’s either the news or jeopardy,” you answer, still flipping in hopes you’d find something good.

He nods his head, going quiet for far longer than he usually does, which is entirely worrying as Eddie was never quiet. Ever. He was the opposite of quiet. If quiet had an arch-nemesis, it would be Eddie.

Chancing a glance in his direction you freeze when you catch him staring at you. He lights up like a Christmas tree as your gaze meets his, and you’re pretty sure you’ve invented a new shade of red on your very face.

Neither of you says anything as you both abruptly turn away from each other. You skip the channel again, and the opening intro of Blade Runner comes on.

“Oh fuck yeah, look at you, found the damn jackpot,” Eddie laughs, grinning from ear to ear as he leans back against the headboard of the bed.

“You good if I stay up here until it finishes?”

“Fine by me. You were the one who said you were sleeping on the floor,” you shrug, returning to a sense of normality as you set the remote aside.

He makes an overly dramatic point of getting comfortable on the bed, and you shake your head to disguise an amused smile. You settle down next to him. Not close enough to be weird, but enough to be comfortable.

You’re both practically half asleep as you watch the movie, and it’s longer than you’d remembered. Of course, you could fall asleep at any time, you’ve seen it at least five times with Eddie, but you persisted. Not wanting to fall asleep and make anything weird.

Eddie slowly shuffles lower and lower on the bed until he’s lying down more than sitting up. You don’t mind, barely paying attention to him. It’s not until he slumps to the side enough that his head lands in your lap that you genuinely notice he’d been moving.

“Eddie?” you whisper, not wanting to talk over the movie in case he was still watching it.

“Mm?” he hums, barely awake.

“I can turn the movie off if you need to sleep,” you offer, already preparing to grab the remote.

“‘M still watching,” he mumbles, his body twisted so that his legs were spread across the bed.

You know you should probably turn the TV off and let him sleep… yet something compels you to lean back and leave him. So you do. Going back to watching Blader Runner as Eddie “Freak” Munson rests his head in your lap. You, of all people.

You don’t even realize you’re carding your fingers through his hair until you force yourself to focus on the movie. Missing how his shoulders sag the moment you pull your hand away.

His hand wraps around your wrist, slowly placing your hand on top of his head.

“I know this is gonna sound pretty pathetic, but… could you keep doing that?”

“Play with your hair?” you question, startled at the request.

“... yeah. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it felt kinda nice and helped with the whole brain noise. Kinda too overwhelmed to sleep - from the concert and all, plus the session I get to run for Hellfire tomorrow is going to be so good that my brain just…” his voice trails off as you slowly run your fingers through his hair.

This time, you see his shoulders relax as he all but melts from your touch. You don’t dare stop until the movie’s over. He’s too peaceful like this, his eyes closed for everything but the climax, which he’s always insisted on watching in silence. A silence he’d always break by rambling about how good some parts were but how shit others were. This time, he’s quiet. Absolutely silent as he leans his head back against your hand.

“Do you mind if we stay like this a little longer? I’ll get up and sleep on the floor eventually, but I… I may have forgotten what this feels like,” he admits, staring at the TV screen rather than looking you in the eyes.

“Just stay up here for the night,” you suggest before you can stop yourself.

“You mean that?” he asks. This time he’s looking at you, disbelief written across his face.

“You were the one who said you were going to sleep on the floor. Not me,” you point out, carding your fingers through his hair.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment, following the sensation of your fingers against his scalp. When he catches himself, there’s a flush of red on his cheeks.

“You’re probably going to think I’m a freak for what I’m gonna ask next.”

“I don’t think you’re a freak, Eddie. Nothing can change my mind on that,” you insist.

“I really hope so,” he whispers, pushing himself to sit up. You tentatively keep your hand in his hair, watching in case he moves to push it away. He doesn’t. Instead, he slowly reaches forwards and cups your cheek, thumb brushing against your lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

Words truly escape you. You’d been prepared for a million things, yet not this. Everything but this.

So, you rely on actions rather than words. Guiding him forwards by the hand on the back of his head until he catches on and meets you halfway, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is anything but demanding. It’s slow and soft. As if he was trying to commit every little detail to memory. As if it was the only chance he’d ever possibly get to kiss you.

When you pull apart for air, the kiss doesn’t feel long enough. Something he remedies by pulling you closer again, kissing you until he can’t possibly ignore his lungs any longer. He tastes like the shitty gas station mints he’d gotten to mask the smell of beer on his breath, and the chilli dog you’d all told him was a bad idea to get that he’d gotten anyway.

“Why didn’t you tell me I could do that sooner,” he says when he finally catches his breath.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” you admit, kicking the covers back so you can get underneath them.

“Worth the wait. So worth it,” he declares as he tosses his jeans into a heap on the floor and climbs under the covers with you. “You look so good in my shirt. Like defeating the villain after a really hard fight good.”

“You’re a nerd,” you laugh, letting him tuck you into his arms.

“Yeah, but so are you. Who else watches Blade Runner till three in the morning?” he points out.

You decide to win this argument by running your hands through his hair. He melts into you, going completely boneless with a content sigh.

“We’ve had a long day; get some rest before I kiss you until you forget how to speak.”

“Maybe I want that,” he challenges with a smile.

“Tomorrow. When it’s not three in the morning.”

“‘M holding you to that,” he mumbles, cuddling you closer to get comfortable.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whisper.

“Night,” he barely manages to slur together as he drifts in and out of sleep.

Part 2 here.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #ao3 link

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chaifootsteps · 5 months

Note

Obligatory "I know it's petty, but"... seeing your tweet replies in response to the Viv stans simply not caring about the people she's hurt COMPLETELY ratio their tweets in terms of likes makes me really happy. It's like there's finally more sanity showing its face in this whole Vivziepop topic, after YEARS of people being to afraid to even touch the topic, people are finally getting fed up and supporting these posts with the information of her abuse. "I don't know how to explain to you that you should care about other people." and ""I didn't read the screenshots because I don't care as long as I get my shitty demon show" is what I'm hearing." are great, VERY true, and much deserving of having 10x the amount of likes that the stan replies have, lol.

I don't want to make you feel weird or put you on a pedestal or anything, because it definitely took a LOT of brave people speaking up about their experiences to finally get to this point, but thank you for being so persistent and reliable in archiving this information and making sure it gets seen. You're probably the most consistent source (with the help of the others that find and send you screenshots of course) of reliable information regarding Viv's history of abuse, and as somebody who's gotten horrible vibes from her since 2016, it's so nice to finally have this many sources to reassure that I was right in feeling that way. Friends of mine that've dismissed any claims of abuse as "lying and drama-starting for clout" in the past are FINALLY realizing with all this information that's coming out, as well as the horribly childish behavior from Viv on Twitter recently, that she actually IS a bad person, and has been for a while. It's so refreshing to finally see the tides really starting to turn, and more people not letting this shitty behavior be brushed under the rug anymore.

It comes at the cost of invoking the feral rage of the crazy mob side of the fandom, but it's really, truly making a good difference in spite of their bitching, and I love that. So, thank you! Please keep staying safe, and DEFINITELY never turn off your VPN, those fandom extremists sound disturbing as fuck.

It's extremely reassuring to see how much sanity has been going around...like it's been locked up in a chest all these years and suddenly burst free! I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and it will have all been a dream.

And thanks, Anon. <3 It's deeply appreciated, although it's true, the credit goes to Vivzie's victims who put those screenshots out there first and took the full force of the Viv mob for it. And they had industry careers to worry about -- all I did was collect them from said victims, collect them from people who are better sleuthers than I'll ever be, make snarky remarks, and have my dragon fetish made fun of.

I couldn't be more proud of this motley group than I am. But yeah, the VPN is definitely staying on!

#Anonymous #nice things people say #vivziepop critical #actual blog post

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envihellbender · 9 days

Note

Buried avatar Gerry

Rating: General Audience

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Characters: Gerard Keay, Michael Shelley

Content: buried alive, rodents, abuse reference

Summary: Buried!Gerard goes the Magnus Institute to give his statement, but he’ll only talk to Michael.

—

[WE ARE GREETED BY THE CLICK OF A TAPE RECORDER]

MICHAEL

Statement of Gerard Keay regarding his experience with Hezekiah Wakeley. Recording by researcher Michael Shelley. Statement Begins. [A PAUSE.] So, in your own time, Gerard. Whenever your ready.

GERARD

Oh erm. Okay. So. Yeah. This one isn’t really about mum like the others but I guess that’s the easiest way to explain it, you know? I’ve already told you about the tattoos and mum’s experiments, so next step is how I escaped it. It was her own fault really, she introduced me to my home. I just curled up in the Mother Earth’s arms and never let go. So she messed up, really. Anyway. I was supposed to be getting my buried tattoo, and just like the others it was supposed to be torture… but it didn’t work? Like, okay, so back then I didn’t have mud everywhere and didn’t have the rodent thing.

[THERE IS AN INDIGNANT SQUEAK FOLLOWED BY THE NOISE OF SHUFFLING.]

[GERARD WHISPERS INTO HIS COAT] Hey, y’alright, mate? [HIS VOICE IS LOUDER AS HE TURNS BACK TO MICHAEL.] Sorry, is it alright if Corpsegrinder has a wander around? He’s getting fussy.

MICHAEL

[A SMALL GASP OF SURPRISE, HIS VOICE IS NERVOUS.] Oh! I- yes, of course. By all means. Oh, he’s cute. My boss might not be quite so amenable if he gets out though.

GERARD

It’s alright, he won’t go far. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. So, mum originally did the usual sort of thing. This time she drugged me whilst I slept and had me moved into a coffin. So I woke up, and… it was nice. It was comforting. I was surrounded by all sides and held tight. It was like I was a kid again, swaddled against mum’s chest in a way I can’t imagine mum ever actually doing. It was pure black, my eyes could rest for the first time. The only thing that would’ve improved it was music, otherwise it just seemed like… Comfortable. Pure. Not remotely terrifying. And maybe that was a sign that the thing already had started to grow inside me. Which is definitely possible because I used to climb into the empty graves at the cemetery down the road when I was a kid, I’d be like, 13, and sneak out after lights out and go to just lay in the soft warm earth. I had my cheap MP3 player playing some music and I was completely safe. I fell asleep there sometimes. I was at peace. It was like that but I wasn’t rudely awakened at six by the gravedigger.

But no, right, so I always liked coffins, being wrapped up in small spaces but I figured I was just a goth or something. I used to get my duvet, my teddies, and curl up under my bed with a book, like one of them Artemis Fowl or Animorphs or something like that. So when mum had me locked into a coffin I just curled up happily and fell back to sleep. Didn’t even realise I was locked in. Mum got mad. She had to go further. So next she started dropping dirt on the coffin to make me feel like I was being buried alive, nothing. The only thing that sort of started to work was when she pinned me to the floor, sat on my chest so I could barely breath. She brought Hezekiah round, that was her big mistake I guess? Because he didn’t really scare me. Didn’t want to either. The opposite really. He was- so he told mum he needed privacy to terrify me properly, instead he edged forward, brushed my hair out of my eyes and talked to me for a little while. He put one hand on my shoulder, he told me that he’d be waiting for me by Saint Columba’s Church if I wanted. When he left he told my mum he could help her. I think she thought that meant he’d do what all the others did. But she couldn’t have been more wrong.

So I snuck out that night to the Church, it was a Catholic one I’d not seen before. I saw Wakeley stood by the doors, he had two rodents on one shoulder curled up together looking at me with tiny beady little eyes. And honestly? That night showed me how fucking liberating fear was. Mum only ever turned me into a shaking crying mess but Hezekiah showed me true actual terror and it was … I don’t know. Pure. Without ill intent. He saw how happy I was curled up in the coffin, he whispered to me about how he’d never let Mum hurt me again. He even let me listen to my MP3 player and hold a teddy close to my chest. I was surrounded by darkness and music. I felt every pound of earth that was piled on top of me. I stayed there in absolute bliss for I don’t know how long, all I know is when Hezekiah dug me back up again the cold early signs of Spring had turned to warm sunlight and flowers blooming over the old cemetery. Hezekiah was so happy. Mate, you have no idea. That weird guy had a smile from ear to ear and he fucking hugged me. I knew then what the Earth wanted. I knew my Mum wasn’t really my Mum, you know? She was… Something else. Someone who was trying to drag me from my real purpose. You know?

I did end up going back home, Mum was furious but she saw something different in me then. Saw I was protected. So the experiments on me stopped. That was when she started forcing me to hurt others. Like. Her. But. A lot of the time I refused. Only took those to the earth that I knew deserved it. It’s a privilege not a punishment. Mum’s ideas weren’t pure, not at all. [THERE IS A SMALL CLATTERING] Hey, Corpsegrinder, what’ve you got- Oh. Erm, mate, he says you dropped this?

MICHAEL

[HE IS NERVOUS, DELIGHTED, AND SURPRISED.] Oh! Yes! Thank you! Thank you erm… Corpsegrinder? Erm. And you, Gerard. Erm, so I guess we’ll leave that one there? Statement ends.

[CLICK]

#envi writes #the Magnus archives #Gerard Keay #Michael Shelley #roleswap au #the buried #buried!Gerry #tma fanfic

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ex0rin · 7 months

Text

SO ANYWAY:

Dirty Downtime (E) - 3k Jack Quaid/Random Man, Jack Quaid/Karl Urban blowjobs, alley blowjobs, wet & messy, facials, come shot, finger sucking, plot what plot/porn without plot, RPF

There’s something to be said for the climb, for the struggle of the industry - or for the perceived climb at least and hell, he missed out on the getting dirty of it all, missed out on the having to beg and scratch and claw for a first role – Which is why he keeps ending up here.

OR: Jack Quaid likes to get on his knees behind seedy bars for the promise of a good word with a producer, not that he needs it.

READ ON AO3 HERE (archive locked)

#the way I am not tagging this though #cara writes #rpf #doe eyed fucking top me please energy #yeah I wrote it #yeah I published it #yeah I DEFINITELY archive locked it #I also didn't edit it so uh you get what you get

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kaylor · 6 months

Note

i kinda wonder if some of the songs got cut because of being overwritten (like some of the SN vault in particular, atw10min aside red didnt have as big a problem with this surprisingly? and fearless too Maybe bc those were mostly done songs actually? IDK) and that was not the vibe?

i def think there were changes and writing recently dont get me wrong i’m just curious if it’s a mix of both idk

i definitely think for fearless, speak now and red (barring atw10 and nothing new, which i believe existed at least in theoretical capacity but were reworked and rewritten the most. would add castles crumbling to this list too maybe) it's easier to accept those songs were written, or at least conceived of in some form, at the time. because we have archives of unreleased songs from pre-2010 before she started locking that shit down, and the songwriting is simply more.... juvenile. it matches her vibe and her style from back in the day. the atw10 additions do not match the vibe or style or even story that was presented at the time, so it's difficult to believe that she would have had that perspective at that time. and that's fine! but it's annoying to me for her to pretend that is exactly how it was written in 2010.

the rest of the vault i have no problem with because she's not declaring anything outrageous like that. it's literally fine. the 1989 vault tracks were very likely also edited and rewritten and reworked into something she would feel comfortable releasing. like yeah, they're definitely clunky and wordy in places where she made sure on the original release every line was sharp and succinct, but thematically they cohere. so then it's a question of is this just the way she writes when there's no hands-on editor in the room? it's also telling that the most 1989 song in terms of vibe and style is also the one that we have confirmation by the co-writer of being written ten years ago - it's the tidiest and most 80s of the bunch. once again making the case for having a strict editor help her get the absolute most out of the deluge of tunes her insanely creative brain can churn out. look at what happens!!

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izhunny · 3 months

Text

😏... Failed at flash fiction challenge by overshooting the mark; succeeded at a fun Frostiron heist ficlet!

Final word count: 1415.

fffprompt: TAKE MY HAND

(full fic below the cut or use the link to AO3 in the title)

Title: A Little Light Burgling

Relationship: Loki/Tony Stark

Rating: Teen and up

No Archive Warnings Apply

(See work at AO3 link above for adtl tags/notes or take your chances below)

SUMMARY: To help a friend, Tony needs to break into the impenetrable vault of The Protectors (of insanely magical objects, some of which definitely shouldn't be on Earth). Only she's in another galaxy and can't help with the mission she tasked him with. And the Avengers… won't.

Who does Tony know with experience of and no moral qualms about stealing magical shit from the good guys?

💙

A/N: Dialogue only. Tony speaks the first line.

💙

“This is your fault. Fix it.”

“Take my hand.”

“Pfft. No.”

“How do you propose I fix the situation?”

“Same way you got me into it!”

“Shh! As I explained, I cannot use magic inside the catacombs, except for this exact spot. Or it will trigger an alarm. I resent the implication I had anything to do with you falling into that open grave. You stepped into that all on your own.”

“Empty grave.”

“Empty?”

“Yep. Mostly.”

“Most-”

“Me. I’m in the otherwise empty grave. So, mostly empty. Now get me out.”

“Move over.”

“What!”

“This is what we’re here for. Move. I’ll not be held responsible for crushing you.”

“Fine. Ugh. What are you doing?”

“Searching.”

“How can you see anything? We should have grabbed a torch from the corridor.”

“My eyes are not my only tool.”

“Hey, hey, that’s my-”

��So it is. Apologies. Step aside so I–aha!”

“Is that a secret door?”

“Yes. Bit small. Would you like to go first?”

“You should probably know, I‘m not a fan of caves. Why did I agree to this again?”

“Because you don’t trust me with the artifact at the end of this secret passage, but you need assistance getting it and none of your merry band of do-gooders would help?”

“Right. Think there’s anything alive in there?”

“Everything down here is quite dead except for us and the guards. And possibly rodents.”

“Rats!”

“Shush. In my experience, most catacombs have them. Nothing to worry about unless we encounter water or if you have an open wound.”

“Uh.”

“Uh?”

“I fell on my elbow.”

“Turn.”

“How can you see?”

“With much better eyesight than you.”

“Hey! Cold hands.”

“Abraded but not bleeding. You’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

“Wait. Thanks for. Don’t leave me down here.”

“Breathe. Hold. Release. Again. Good. I vowed earlier to aid this nefarious endeavor. Again, my sworn word, I will not leave you behind here. A literally unbreakable oath. You used this to your advantage with my brother, did you not?”

“I did. Okay. Lead on, McDuff.”

“There’s light at the end. Hold onto my coat tail.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Honestly, neither can I. What made you ask me?”

“Sneaking around. Breaking and entering. Stealing shit from a secret vault in a secret lair. Seemed like your idea of a good time.”

“It does sound like me. How are you doing?”

“I think my eyes are adjusting. The scenery has… improved. How much further?”

“Scenery? All you could possibly see is my, oh. Very amusing. Get your head out from under my jacket and see for yourself.”

“Think it’s boobytrapped?”

“No. But those lockpicks you concealed about your person will be useful. We need to change places.”

“We don’t really have the room to–”

“Back up a little. I’ll lay down; you crawl over and impress me with your genius engineering prowess.”

“Just break the lock off.”

“Wasn’t your plan for this to appear as if no one had ever been here?”

“Shit! We have to crawl back through to get out. I. Oh god!”

“Breathe. I can teleport us out at any moment if you do not care about triggering an alarm.”

“Okay. I just. Yeah. Okay. Breathing. Not trapped?”

“Not trapped.”

“Cool. You want to move down a little more?”

“No. I’ll be right under you to brace you so you can work.”

“Right. Oh, sorry about the. Whoops, my jeans caught on one of your belts. Why do you have so many damn belts?”

“Stop struggling. Allow me. There. I suggest you rest your weight on me.”

“I’m good.”

“You’re not. Your arms will need to remain in a precarious position for several minutes, your sweat already drips on me, and I predict your thighs and back will give before that lock yields to you. Rest. Your. Weight. On me. I’ll brace you up.”

“It’s like that one yoga pose. This is actually better. Thanks.”

“Are you…?”

“Yeah. I am. Ignore that.”

“But you were panicking a moment ago.”

“Not everything on me immediately responds to requests from my brain. Almost. Almost. Damn it! I need the other rake in my back pocket. Can you?”

“Yes. Here.”

“Thanks. Why are you doing this?”

“Sounded like fun.”

“Called it.”

“My brother’s disapproval over a collaboration of unlawful mischief was—Shh! Voices. Magic.”

“Mmm…”

“...Oh.”

“Good or bad oh?”

“Just. Oh. They’ve gone. The magic is receding, too. Keep working, you shameless creature.”

“Locks already open. Your lips are soft.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Later. Let’s retrieve this object you seek and get out of here.”

“Good idea.”

“I’ll get the latch. Shield your eyes.”

“Fuck, it’s fucking bright.”

“Oh my. Look, look.”

“Yeah, that’s… wow. That’s a lot of stuff.”

“Are you entirely certain you wish to take only whatever we’re here for from this vault?”

“You promised. My artifact only.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try to negotiate for more. Crawl inside already.”

“Sorry. Ouch!”

“Get off the floor.”

“How did you manage that from your back so gracefully?”

“Superior proprioception and strength. Well, what are we here for?”

“It’s a cube, like the cube that–”

“No wonder you didn’t tell me. Start on that side. I’ll start over there.”

“See it?”

“No. You?”

“Not yet.”

“You’re certain, only the cube?”

“Yes.”

“But this could be fun. Or this!”

“Put that back.”

“But, but shiny, dangerous magical objects. Displayed like wares in a shop!”

“I found it. But it’s in a locked case.”

“That lock should be no issue.”

“Yep. After I get this to my friend, I’m telling them about the security loophole you exploited.”

“If I could leave you here, I would.”

“I won’t tell them how I know about it.”

“Finding another avenue in might be challenging.”

“What the hell are. Are you, are you licking those things?”

“Just the really interesting ones. So I can find them later.”

“Does this mean you’ll be able to locate me whenever you want?”

“You’re the one who kissed me. And yes.”

“Okay, that’s—.”

“Don’t touch it! Let me wrap it with a bit of—”

“That’s my favorite t-shirt you just ripped a chunk out of. And that’s a handy use of a belt.”

“Undignified as it may seem, this can act as a light for our crawl back if you hold the belt between your teeth.”

“Can you get the lock back onto–”

“Yes! Get in, hurry! The magic sweep is starting on the other side of the vault.”

“Damn, it’s worse with light.”

“Move!”

“I’m moving!”

“How do you possibly manage inside your suit if you’re so claustrophobic?”

“Suit’s not a cave.”

“Well, in that case. You know that makes no reasonable sense whatsoever, don’t you?”

“Never said it was reasonable. That’s, uh, my ankle you got there.”

“Did you pull the entry closed when we came in?”

“I don’t remember. And I can’t tell with all the light.”

“Of all the. Put the cube between your knees. Lie down. I’ll crawl past and leave my jacket over you. Wrap the cube in it and follow.”

“Ow, hey, watch the. Um. That a dagger in your pants or are you just happy to be crawling over the back of me in a dark tunnel with ill-gotten loot?”

“The first. Maybe a little of the second. Quiet. The guards should be making their round again soon. After they pass, we’ll exit. Your hand is taking liberties I haven’t granted.”

“It’s keeping me distracted. And calm. It is pretty nice ass. Why do you guys wear so much leather anyway?”

“Why are you so interested in fashion?”

“I’m stylish. Sue me.”

“You’re also inappropriate.”

“I’m inappropriately interested in what’s underneath that fashion.”

“Ehehehe. They’re leaving. Let’s go.”

“I never thought I’d be happy standing in an empty grave.”

“My jacket?”

“After you get us to my lab. How’s it look?”

“Like it’s too big for you and has a cosmic cube in it. Fetching nonetheless. Would you like one of your own?”

“You offering?”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. You’d probably want something in red.”

“I’m partial to black when it comes to leather. You know you have about twenty knives in this thing?”

“Thirty-two. Come on. Take my hand.”

“Thanks.”

“This was fun.”

“Would you like to get to know each other a little better over takeout, not watch a movie, and fool around?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Stand here.”

“Can I kiss you while we’re teleporting?”

“Shut up and–”

“Mmmmm.”

#frostiron #prompt fic #my writing #a little light burgling #dialogue only #link goes to AO3 #overshot the mark for flash fiction 😊

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