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moody-alcoholic · 10 days

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These Violent Delights

Chapter 4 - The Distance

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe. 8.7k words. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes, nightmares, mentions of torture, mentions of past abuse, mentions of past SA, choking, receiving injections, sex, anal sex, spanking, handjob.

AN: The writers block has been ROUGH but hey ya get your first smut for the series. It is a poly fic after all. XD

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Enjoy <3

You’re sitting in John’s office with Dr. Piper while he’s looking through some folders. You’re trying hard to not be nervous. It reminds you of the times you would be called into the Professor's office. It was rarely for anything good. John puts the papers away, locking the drawer on his desk. It’s way too familiar for your liking, but John doesn’t look mad.

“We’re going to be leaving for a few days, 3 at the most,” John says.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“Wisconsin.

“You shouldn’t need us. I’ll leave you a way to contact us but if you do I’m going to assume it’s an emergency.” He looks between you both. Now you’re worried about him, all of them. They’re probably going away to do something dangerous. You could never see them again, they’re soldiers after all.

“What are you going to do?” you ask.

“Dr. Montgomery let us know where we can find some of the formula. We’re going to get some so it can speed up her research,” John explains. So they can find a cure sooner. You’re still not sure what to think of this, but you know they want a cure.

You look over at Dr. Piper. She’s listening to him. You shouldn’t care, it’s your job to be a good omega and do whatever your alpha wants. John and Simon both want a cure. You’re not really listening to the conversation but Dr. Piper nods at him now and then. They’re going to be gone for a few days. You can live with that, just a few days.

“We’ll be back before you know it.” John smiles. You smile back at him.

“When are you leaving?” you ask.

“Tonight.”

Tonight comes quicker than you think. Everyone had been so busy that Johnny and Kyle didn’t even have time to eat dinner with you. It’s the first time you’d been to the mess alone. You missed the days when Dr. Piper would bring you your meals and you didn’t have to leave the barracks. She said getting out of the barracks is good though, a nice change of scenery and fresh air.

You can’t sleep. You're not sure why. You’re turning around in bed and whatever position you’re in feels uncomfortable. You can see the light coming in under your door, you can hear their voices in the common room. You want to see them again, one last time before they leave. You slip out of bed pulling your arms around your chest. With the window open your room is always cold.

You crack open the door and you can see them all moving around the common room. You see John’s back as he gives orders in a low voice. You’re sneaking down the corridor. You don’t know why you’re trying to be sneaky. It’s not like you’d get into trouble for wanting to say goodbye to them. You see Johnny leave the building as you make it to John, and it’s almost like he senses you before you have time to reach out to tap him on the back. He turns around, looking at you, resting the tablet he has in his hands down by his side.

“You should be sleeping,” he says.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admit. A little smile forms on his lips as he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll be back soon,” he says. You look up in his eyes, his deep blue eyes. He looks sad, his expression soft. Maybe if you beg, he’ll stay.

“What if you get hurt?” you say. He lets out a chuckle, his hand moving up to your face.

“No one’s getting hurt. Not on my watch,” he says, and you believe him. What if he gets hurt though? You don’t think you could live with yourself if any of them got hurt.

“Cap, the truck’s here.” You look past John to see Kyle sticking his head around the door. He pauses when he notices you. John waves him away before turning his attention back to you.

“You’re not going to worry while we’re gone are you?” Price says. You shake your head, and he leans down kissing the top of your head. You wish he didn’t have to go. His scent strong in the air, you project your scent onto him. It’s all you can really do. You see him react to it, his thumb stroking your cheek. He sighs, dropping his hand and turning to leave. You smile for him. That's what he needs, for you to be a good omega for him and not worry, or at least make him think you’re not worried.

“Stay safe,” you call as he leaves out the door.

“Always,” he says, smiling. You watch as he leaves, the door closing behind him. The place already feels empty. You hit the switch on the wall and the building goes dark. You walk back down to your room, there’s already a pit forming in your stomach. You almost want to wake up Dr. Piper just so you’ll have someone near you so you won’t be alone. You walk into your room seeing your nest. It’s all you want. You rush over to it, flopping down on the pillows, pulling the blankets over you. They’ll be safe, they know what they’re doing.

Your dreams are filled with visions of everyone dying. Johnny dies quickly, always shot in the head bleeding out on the floor. Kyle’s not so lucky, some kind of chemical that burns his skin and his lungs as he screams in pain. Simon’s next he takes the longest to go down, fighting to the bitter end, his body punctured with knives and bullets.

Then there’s John, it’s always the Professor who gets him and tortures him just like every other alpha he’s slaughtered. You hate the Professor being in your dreams, you hate that you’re riddled with nightmares. Dr. Piper said it’s normal—something called PTSD. You hate that they’ve all left, you hate Dr. Piper, they're doing this for her, for the cure. You don’t even want a cure. But you have to do this for them. Be a good omega.

It’s been 24 hours since they left. You’ve been lonely. You didn’t think you were going to miss them as much as you do. You miss Johnny and Kyle keeping you company, lunches have been too quiet. Dr. Piper has been so busy you haven’t seen her much, and she’s been skipping lunch. You hate being alone. The mess is loud and busy. It’s the only other time you see any other soldiers. Sometimes you see them training around the base but then they’re caught up in whatever they're doing.

You miss John the most. Dr. Piper said it’s normal to miss your pack, to feel like this. It doesn’t make it any easier, especially when you’re not sure when they’re going to be back. You hope John’s safe. You hope they all are.

In the mess people stare. You hear them talking under their breath. It makes you uncomfortable, so you eat faster, their eyes drilling into the back of you. It’s not their fault, they just don’t understand. You’re sick of being called a freak. You heard a new one yesterday, ‘barracks bunny.’ At least that doesn’t sound bad, and bunnies are cute. You miss having an alpha around, and you miss having someone you can go to for safety. Dr. Piper was right, John is a good alpha. When he comes back you want to go for another walk in the forest.

You’re not allowed to leave the base alone. Maybe you could sneak out though, figure out another way through the fence. There has to be a break in the walls somewhere. Then you could see the lake whenever you want. You sigh as you finish your pudding, it's custard flavor this time. You should take a sandwich to Dr. Piper, she probably needs it. She’s been working so hard. You throw your tray away and pick up a chicken sandwich. You walk out the mess passing soldiers coming in for a late lunch.

‘She’s fucking some SAS soldier,’ a voice says, followed with laughter. ‘Really an SAS soldier?’

Why should you even care? You shouldn’t care, all they think is that you’re some sex toy. Maybe that’s what John wants? You haven't had time to talk to him about it. He’s always been so soft, so kind. When he’s in heat, he’ll be different though. At the end of the day, it’s all you really are. An omega made for an alpha, to breed with an alpha make more omegas.

You walk over to the lab still squeezing the sandwich in your hands. You’re going to start going for food later, maybe then you can avoid the rush of soldiers. At least here you’re accepted, people won’t stare or judge you. You walk in the scent of beta is strong in the air. It’s relaxing, and you stop squishing the sandwich.

“Hey.” You turn to see the alpha looking at you, his hands behind his back as he leans forward. He’s not like other alphas. If he didn’t smell so strong, you’d presume he was a beta. Even the way he holds himself is like he’s shy.

“Dr. Miller right?” you say, keeping your distance. He nods.

“I’ve been working on a hormone blocker for Lieutenant Riley, would you like to see?” He says moving to the side of the table he’s working on. You can see a microscope set up. You nod, feeling intimidated by his presence, but you're too curious. You walk over to the table. He smiles at you and you press your eye up to the microscope. You don’t know what you’re looking at but it looks pretty.

“Awesome right?” he says, sounding enthusiastic. You back up, smiling at him.

“Do you think it will help him?” you ask. He shrugs.

“I hope so, that’s why I’m working on it.” He looks at you sympathetically.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you offer. It feels right. He smiles at you.

“I’ll let you know,” he says. You nod at him. He seems nice, he makes you think of John, kind and smiley. You walk across the lab to Dr. Pipers office. You knock and she calls you in. Her office is small, not like John's; there's no personality in it, just lab equipment and a massive window looking out into the lab. She’s sitting behind a desk typing on the computer as you sit down.

“I got you a sandwich,” you say, putting it down on her desk. “Have you ever had your own office before?” you ask her as she moves to look over at you.

“No. Are you missing them yet?” she asks.

“It’s only been a day,” you say. You do miss them though.

“They’re your pack. I would expect you to be missing them after a few hours.” She leans back in her chair. You nod.

“They’ll be back before you know it. I did ask John if one of them could stay but he said they were all needed,” she explains. You would have liked it if one of them had stayed, if not to just eat with you.

“How are the nightmares?” she asks. You hang your head, you don’t want to talk about it.

“I hear you screaming at night. We could try some sleeping pills?” she asks. You look up at her. You don’t know if you want that. Would it even help? You shake your head.

“It’s not that bad, I don’t remember them anyway,” you lie. You’ve always found lying so easy to Dr. Piper or betas in general. Even so, you can tell she doesn’t believe you, but she doesn’t push it any further.

“Think they’ll be back tomorrow?” you ask.

“I don’t know. They’ll be back when they’re back. John said it could be 3 days at least.” You nod, you don’t know what you were expecting her to say. You wonder what constitutes an emergency, what would have them racing back across the country for you.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you ask, looking out the window and seeing scientists working.

“No. You should get some rest, things are going to get busy over the next few weeks. You should appreciate the down time,” Dr. Piper smiles. You sigh, you’re sick of being stuck in the barracks, the TV can only keep you occupied for so long.

“Think it would be possible to get some books?” you ask. You used to read in the bunker. There was a bookshelf in one of the rooms, and you must have read each book about a million times but it was something to do.

“I can talk to John about it when he gets back.” She rolls away on her chair and picks up a bag pulling a book out. She hands it over to you. You take it out of her hands, it’s a pretty book with a picture of a cat and a girl on the front.

“Alice in Wonderland. It’s a bit on the nose, I was going to wait to give it to you,” she says.

“What do you mean?” you ask, flicking through it. It’s old, the pages are turning yellow on the edges, and it's got the old book smell you like.

“It’s about a girl who follows a rabbit down a hole into a mysterious land where she has adventures. It’s a classic book, if you like it I can definitely get you more.” She smiles, her computer beeping capturing her attention. You smile back getting up to leave, excited to have something to do other than watch TV.

Dr. Miller waves as you pass him, clutching the book. You rush back to the barracks. It’s starting to rain and when you make it back to your room you can hear the pitter patter of drops on the window, there’s a cool breeze brushing through and you can smell the pine from the forest. It’s perfect as you crawl into your nest, throwing a blanket round your shoulders.

You open the book surprised to see your name written on the first page. It’s signed by Dr. Piper. Happy 13th birthday. It makes a lump form in your throat. She’s had this all these years. You wonder why she never gave it to you, or maybe it was the Professor stopping her. It makes you smile. You shuffle deeper into your nest and make a mental note to thank her later as you start reading.

Doctor Montgomery and Price both agreed if there was going to be a sample of the formula it would be in Professor Hale’s mansion. He hardly spent time at his other properties, just used them when he needed to travel. Besides this was where his home lab was. It wasn’t hard to get blueprints for the mansion. The place was huge, the lab suspected to be in the basement.

“Place looks quiet, no lights, no movement.” It’s Ghost’s voice in Price’s ear.

“Copy,” he replies. The place was quiet, no cars, no one in or out for hours. The sun is starting to set and no lights are being turned on. If the Professor was here, he wasn’t letting them know. They should move in now in case someone comes back in the evening.

“Let’s move.” Price looks over at Soap and Gaz kneeling next to him on the forest's edge. He hears Ghost say copy as Soap leaves the cover of the foliage to meet him. Gaz moves too, standing up out of the bushes. Something’s different now, he feels more on edge then normal, like his senses have been turned up to the max.

“Think he’s out?” Gaz asks, breaking Price’s train of thought.

“Think so,” Price responds, getting up and walking with Gaz over to a side door. The Professor’s not a threat, but it would be nice to be able to deal with him now. He’s lucky they still don’t know where he is. The sun is low in the sky. The view from the back of the mansion is nice. Sprawling fields broken up by woodlines, he takes a moment to soak it in.

When they get to the side door Price signals for Gaz to get the crowbar in position. Everyone is stacked up on the door. He nods at Gaz who presses down on the crowbar as the door pops open. Price gives the order for Ghost and Soap to enter. They walk in. There are no alarms—that's not good. It’s almost too quiet. Everyone funnels in. Price let’s Ghost take the lead as they walk through the kitchen into what looks like a living room.

“Where’s the entrance to this basement?” Soap asks.

“Main lobby,” Gaz replies. Ghost keeps walking, scanning each corner as he moves. They make it to the lobby. Price can see the front doors. The place is quiet, there's no one here.

“Ghost, Gaz, clear the next floor, Soap let’s go,” Price says gesturing to the next room. He can see Soap smile in the dark as he moves into the next room. It doesn’t take long for Soap and Price to finish clearing the ground floor. Dr. Montgomery said it was normal to hear and see things better. One of the perks of the formula, it makes clearing rooms easier when you can sense what’s in there before you enter.

Soap was already good at sweeping rooms before this but now he’s like a fine tuned machine, Price watches his nostrils flare as he enters each room, every source of noise being snapped to in an instant. It’s mainly creaking floors, rats behind the walls. Maybe he’ll have to look into some training to help them all get better at using their senses to their advantage. At least until they have a cure.

Price can hear Ghost and Gaz upstairs, their methodical steps, the opening and closing of doors. Definitely the best thing is being able to see better even in this low light, that’s a massive advantage. The building loops round and before they know it they’re back in the lobby. Price looks for the stairs to the basement as they wait for Ghost and Gaz to come back from upstairs.

“Place is clear,” Ghost says as he comes down the stairs with Gaz following behind. Price nods and they all follow him to the open door. They make it down into the lab. The place looks ransacked. Maybe Dr. Montgomery was right and he’s fled with the only known sample of the formula. A light comes on and now Price can see the extent of the damage, it doesn’t look like there is much left. Gaz and Soap are already pulling drawers and cupboards open.

“What are we looking for exactly?”

“Medical vials, anything labeled, omega project or omega initiative,” Price says going over to a computer.

“Do you ever read the briefs?” Gaz asks.

“‘Course,” Soap replies. Gaz hums. To Price’s surprise the computer turns on as he moves the mouse. Unsurprisingly the whole thing has been wiped.

“Price!” Ghost calls from round one of the corners in the room. Price goes round seeing Ghost leaned over a computer. He presses play on the video. It's you, although you look younger, thinner. Your hair tied back, you look pale, sitting in a chair, your head slumped forward.

“How do you feel?” asks Dr. Montgomery. She’s the person sitting on the other end of the table, just out of frame. You don’t respond, just sniffle.

“It’s been 5 days, and you’re coming down from your–” there’s a pause “—19th heat.” Your head looks up, your eyes swollen with tears. There’s bruising too, on your cheeks and on your neck. A knot forms in Price’s stomach.

“Have you got any pain anywhere?” she asks. You shake your head.

“The water is for you,” Dr. Montgomery says sliding the glass closer to you. You reach out to grip it with a shaking hand. There are marks around your wrists. The video glitches and skips along.

“Heat experiment 15 was a failure.” It’s another voice out of frame. It’s a low male voice, it must be the Professor. There’s the sound of a door opening interrupting his speech.

“You said they would leave her neck and face alone.” It’s Dr. Montgomery, she sounds mad.

“Doctor, you know I cannot control people’s actions,” the Professor sighs. “Is she going to recover?”

“Physically, yes the bruising is already improving.”

“Then what is the problem?” he asks, sounding annoyed.

“She is becoming more and more aware during her heats. Mentally this is taking a toll,” Dr. Montgomery says. Simon skips to the next video. This time your hair is wet sticking to your face, blood running down the side of your head. The table is gone.

“You keep pushing and pushing. How are you ever going to be a good omega if you keep pushing your alpha!” It’s just the Professor and he sounds mad, the anger is almost radiating through the monitor. The Professor steps into frame pressing his face up against yours, you flinch trying to lean back as far as you can.

“No alpha will ever want a disobedient omega.” His hand grips your throat, choking you, pulling your neck up. Your hands grip his wrists, feet flailing.

“You will stay here until you’ve learned your lesson!” he snaps, letting you go. You fall forward out of the chair and onto the floor pulling your knees to your chest. The Professor walks out of frame for a second then comes back, pulling your hair up. You yelp in pain as he places something on the back of your neck. You scream as the Professor holds your hands away from your neck, then your body goes limp. Ghost steps forward pulling a USB stick out the computer the video stops playing.

“Soap!” Price shouts. He walks round the corner. “Did you listen to the part of the brief about which explosives to bring?”

“‘Course, sir,” he smiles. Price looks at Ghost. There’s anger in his eyes. They both just witnessed the same thing, and that was only a snippet. There’s a pit in his stomach that he hasn’t felt in years.

“Set the charges,” Price says, pushing past Soap.

“Let’s find the formula, then blow this place further into the dirt.”

“Hey, stranger,” Dr. Miller says as you walk into the lab. It’s been over 48 hours now and you’ve still not heard if they’re coming back yet or not. You smile at him as you watch him pipetting something into a test tube. He’s alone, it is getting darker out and you’re surprised anyone is still working other than Dr. Piper. You can’t remember what you came in here for. You just wanted some company from someone who understands. It didn’t take you long to finish the book, and you read it twice before falling asleep yesterday.

“Still working on the hormone blocker?” you ask him, and he nods. You pull over a stool to watch him.

“I think I’m a bad omega,” you say as he squirts more solution into another tube. The chemical changes colour.

“Missing your alpha?” he asks sympathetically. You nod, but it’s not just John. Your whole pack is gone, you miss them all.

“When did you leave the bunker?” you ask. He looks over at you for a second.

“I managed to get out a few months before Professor Hale started to kill off the alphas.”

“You were lucky,” you say. You remember the mass slaughter. The stench of blood was thick in the air for days. You remember how the Professor told you it was your fault. You were not being a good omega. You thought you remembered every alpha, the Professor made you scent all of them. Maybe there were more than you remembered.

“Do you think there can be 2 alphas in a pack?” you ask him. He sits back in the stool humming.

“I think your pack situation is very unique. I think Lieutenant Riley is very controlled,” he says. It’s not exactly what you want to hear.

“Why do you think you’re a bad omega?” he asks, changing the subject.

“I don’t know if I want the cure,” you say.

“That doesn’t make you a bad omega, that makes you human,” he says, smiling as he picks up a vial of something shaking it in his hand.

“What about you, do you want a cure?” you ask him. He pauses for a second.

“A lot of us had very normal lives before working for Professor Hale. Being in a relationship with kids, it’s hard when you have all these new instincts. Not to mention you’re the only omega we know that exists. That’s not easy for alphas knowing the only shot we have of getting an omega is one who’s already claimed,” he explains.

You didn’t think about it like that. You know what it’s like, the burning drive to find an alpha. You’ve lived through not having one for years. Maybe the Professor was being kind when he killed all the alphas, it was that or condemning them to a life of pain, searching for something they’ll never get.

“Did you have a family?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I had a mother who lived in Oregon, she died a couple of years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. That’s what you’re supposed to say when someone dies. He looks at you and smiles.

“I have some samples I need to test on you. They’re just simple compounds. I can give you them now. It would be a really big help.” You can smell his sincerity in the air. You nod before you even realise what you’re doing. He smiles going into a drawer and taking out two syringes.

“Actually, I should ask Dr. Piper,” you say.

“Don’t worry it will only take a few seconds, there’s no need to bother her, she's so busy.” His alpha is strong in the air. You don’t really have much of a choice. Before you’ve even realised it you're nodding, rolling your sleeve up. You turn to the side for him, as he cleans your arm.

“Sharp scratch,” he says pressing the first injection in, you don’t feel anything.

“What is it?” you ask.

“Captain Price is going to claim you right?” You nod. His alpha is almost suffocating, it makes nervous goosebumps rise on the back of your neck. You forgot what question you asked.

“Will it help them?” you ask. He smiles, injecting the second syringe.

“Of course, everything you do here helps them.”

“They really want a cure,” you say as he finishes and you pull your sleeve back down.

“What do you want?” he asks, turning to write something down on a clipboard.

“I want to make them happy, and be a good omega.” It doesn't matter what you think. It’s whatever they want, especially John. You want to keep him happy. He looks over from the papers to you.

“You know I have been working on an idea with Dr. Montgomery. I think maybe if you could give us a hand we could figure it out quicker.” He looks at you, you don’t know what to say. You should talk to her first.

“It would really help them. We might even be able to get a cure sooner,” he says. You swallow the lump in your throat. You should do this for them, be a good omega. You remember how angry Simon was a few days ago, even asking to be discharged. You nod reluctantly.

“I’ll talk to Dr. Montgomery, will you come back tomorrow, early morning around 6?” You nod hopping off the stool.

“You’re a good omega for this. Captain Price will be very proud.” You smile at the praise. John will be happy. The sooner they can find a cure, the happier they will be. You smile at him as you leave the lab. You wonder why Dr. Piper hasn’t approached you about helping before. Maybe she’s not ready yet, or maybe she’s just trying to give you a break.

You don’t care, she’s lied to you before, for years. Maybe Dr. Miller is closer than he thinks to a cure. The least you can do is help. You walk back to the barracks. It’s already evening and the days feel like they’ve been going faster. That’s good, at least. Hopefully they’ll be back soon.

You wake to the smell of alpha in the air. You sit up straight looking around. You’re laid out on the sofa. You don’t remember making it to the barracks or turning the TV on, or falling asleep. Your head is swimming, the scent of alpha is strong, you see the door open as Price and Johnny walk into the room. You smile when you see them, you want to throw yourself in John’s arms instead you pull yourself off the sofa.

“Hey lass did ya miss us?” Johnny says, you nod going over to them. John’s alpha scent washes over you, and you project your scent into the air for him. He looks tired.

“Yeah, it’s been boring.” Maybe you should tell them about your conversation with Dr. Miller. No, you want to wait until you have something more concrete to show them. No point in getting their hopes up for nothing.

“Did you get the formula?” you ask as Gaz walks in the building.

“You bet we did!” Johnny calls swinging a bag over his shoulder. You smile at him. That’s good, you’re happy for them. Now Dr. Piper has one less obstacle, and with the help you’ve been giving they could have a cure in a few months. John comes over to you, his scent strong. There’s something else there too. Sadness.

“Let’s have a quick chat,” he says, leading you to his office. You’ve missed him, missed being around him, missed his scent. He sits down on the sofa patting the spot next to him. You smile sitting down.

“We went to Professor Hale’s house. That was where Dr. Montgomery said we could find a copy of the formula.” Your breath catches in your throat. You dig your nails into your palms. Why didn’t they tell you?

“D-did you kill him?” you ask, swallowing hard.

“No, he wasn’t there. We got a copy of the formula, it should help Dr. Montgomery find a cure quicker.” You nod ignoring the pain in your palms. You feel relief. You shouldn’t be relieved—he was a bad man—but for some reason you’re relieved he’s not dead.

“I saw a video, a video of you—”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you say getting up. You’re embarrassed, you want to cry, you want to run away. You turn away from him, you can’t look at him right now. You were happy in the fact that you thought everything from the bunker had been destroyed. Of course the Professor kept videos of you. You can only imagine what John saw, and none of it is good.

“It’s okay,” you hear him say as he gets up off the sofa.

“I know he would take videos. I know.” You can’t stop the tears now. Cameras were just part of your life, he would record everything for research. He especially liked to record your heats. You’re lucky you remember so little of them, you wish you didn’t remember any of it. You feel John rest one of his hands on your shoulder. You freeze up. His hand is warm, strong. He’s not going to hurt you, but he could. It would be so easy for him to slip his hand on the back of your neck and it would be over. Everything in your body is telling you to protect your neck, to run. His scent is suffocating, the smell of sadness is gone. You smell something else.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says. You smell the betas worry through the doors. You know they’re standing there listening, they’re projecting, they're trying to mask your scent without even realising it.

“I’m okay.” It’s a lie. You’re being a bad omega, you’re lying to your alpha. You hear him sigh. He can tell. You tense up even more than you thought you ever could. You wait for the anger, the shouting, anything. His hand leaves your shoulder. It's not what you’re expecting, your hand goes up to the back of your neck. You swallow hard letting the betas scent relax you and turn to face John. His expression is soft. His hand slowly comes up to cup your cheek. You let him, keeping your eyes on him as he brushes your cheek with his thumb.

“They hurt you,” he says as a matter of fact. You look down, you can’t look him in the eyes right now. You can’t tell what’s embarrassment or what’s sadness.

“I only got what I deserved,” you say, looking back up at him. You can’t look in his eyes. He might not want to punish you now but he will eventually. You’re a bad omega. His hands come back to your shoulders, and you almost flinch away. His hands grip you strong and firm keeping you in place.

“If anyone tells you that you deserved what you went through, you send them my way, all right?” he asks. You nod. You trust him, you trust him.

You press yourself into his chest, your arms wrapping around him as you sob, trying your best to keep quiet. His scent fills your nose and you relax into him. He’s your alpha, you’re part of his pack.

“What are you going to do, kick their ass?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood.

“Worse,” he says, kissing the top of your head. You believe him. For a few seconds you let yourself imagine him kicking the Professor's ass. He would be able to, the Professor is bigger but John’s a trained soldier. You hum into his chest, letting your scent fill the air as his hand rubs your back.

“I trust you John, I'm just not used to trusting people,” you say, opening your eyes, the tears run down your face. He pushes you off his chest, you almost want to whine from the break of contact. His hand comes up to brush your cheeks.

“I know.” He’s gentle, his hands move slowly as you look in his eyes. You didn’t want it to just be a biology thing. You like him. You wish one day you could maybe love him. His head tips down as he leans into you, you look at his lips. He wants to kiss you, you want to kiss him. Panic rises in your chest—what if you’re a bad kisser, you’ve never kissed anyone before! You don’t have time to worry about it as his lips meet yours. You close your eyes. His lips are soft but his beard tickles your face and it makes you smile. You don’t know if you’re doing it right but you must be on the right track as he pulls you closer to him, his arms running down your body, his fingers mapping out each curve.

You don’t even realise you’re not breathing until his tongue presses against your lips and you gasp opening your mouth for him. Just like his touch his tongue is gentle too, he moves slow like he’s taking his time to explore your mouth. His hands grip your waist pulling you tighter as he continues his slow movements. You can smell it in the air now, arousal. You try to ignore it, it’s strong though almost as strong as his alpha. He senses your change in body movements and pulls away. You open your eyes looking at him, his eyes glossed over as he comes back up to stroke your cheek.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, you feel yourself blushing.

“Nothing.” You say smiling up at him. “That was nice.” He kisses your forehead, you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you into the hug. You can still smell the beta’s through the door, you feel embarrassed now, they’ve been listening to this whole thing.

“Johnny and Kyle are standing outside the door.” You smile breaking away from the hug as his hands drop down to your waist. He walks around you to the door. When he opens it you can hear them scuttling away. He turns to you and you walk back into his embrace.

“How about a cup of tea and some horrible reality TV?” he asks. You smile at him.

“All I’ve done is watch TV for the last few days.”

“Great so you’ll know all the best channels,” he says. You let him wrap his arm around him as you both walk out into the main common room. Johnny winks at you from the kitchen.

“MacTavish, Garrick, get some rest,” he says to the room which is followed by ‘yes sirs.’

“Where’s Simon?” you ask.

“I’m sure he’ll be around soon,” John says as he moves you over to the sofa. You sit down as he heads into the kitchen.

“How do you take the tea?”

“I like it milky and sweet.” You see him smile as he turns into the fridge. You turn the TV on flicking through the channels till you find something.

You watch him work in the kitchen, spooning sugar into mugs, then water, then milk. He brings the mugs over and you move over making space for him as he sits down next to you. His arm rests round the back of the sofa and he motions for you to lay in his arms. He wants you to lay in his arms, your alpha wants you to lay in his arms. You pull your legs on the sofa and scoot over resting your head against his chest and your arm around his stomach. The show on the TV is familiar, you recognize the people, actors? You can’t tell.

“So what’s this about?” he asks, wrapping his free hand around you while he sips his tea.

“These women all live near each other in these big houses. The blonde haired woman is always upset about something,” you explain, cuddling into him. His arm is warm, you can hear his heartbeat, you can feel each muscle and scar under his shirt.

“John, I like spending time with you,” you say as you find your fingers run across his stomach. He kisses your head again.

“I know, we have all the time in the world.” That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one. It’s what you need now though, his familiar scent filling your lungs. It’s what you need. It’s making you dizzy. His arm runs down your back then back up to your arm making goosebumps stand up on the back of your neck. You’ve missed him, you’re glad he’s back and safe.

“I’ll be a good omega for you,” you breathe as your body gets tired again. You feel safe, you are safe. You close your eyes.

Simon walks into the lab letting the door slam behind him. He doesn’t care if she knows he’s here or not.

“Welcome back,” she says, watching him walk across the room. He doesn’t say anything as he stops at the table she’s working on. He puts a small crate down on the table. She stands up and clicks it open, running her fingers over the vials then looking up at Simon smiling. He used to like her smile, now he just sees the evil behind it. She takes the vials, turning to put them in a fridge behind her.

“How did it go? Smoothly?” she asks, turning back to look at him.

“Classified,” he grunts.

“Well omega’s been missing you,” she sighs, he can hear the annoyance in it. He huffs, shaking his head. She missed Price, not him.

“We got what you needed, and this,” he says, throwing the USB on the table.

“What’s this?” she asks picking it up.

“Maybe you’ll find something helpful. If not, well.”

“Well what?”

“Thought you might enjoy some memories.” He turns to walk away.

“Memories? What are you talking about?” she says confused.

“You stayed to keep her alive. I saw what it was like for her.” His voice is harsh in the air.

“Simon—”

“No. You kept her alive. You kept her alive to be tortured.” He doesn’t want to talk to her right now. He wants to be with you, and he can’t even do that.

“So what? I should have let her die? Hale would have picked another omega, another subject,” Dr. Piper says.

“So what?” he snaps. “She’s a human being, she’s a person. You let her suffer. You let her suffer and that's on you.” His hand rests on the door handle.

“Simon. I tried so hard for her. I put my life on the line for her.” She steps round the desk towards him. He huffs letting his hand fall from the door handle.

“No more excuses. You made the choice to let her go through it,” he says, turning to face her. Her eyes dilate for a second and she takes a step back. He wants to trust her, but everytime he lets his guard down with her something reminds him of who she is.

“I’m not making excuses,” she says.

“You are, you just don’t realise it.” He opens the door and leaves.

Simon walks through the door into the barracks. He looks at Price on the sofa with you laying up against his chest. You’re asleep breathing steady against him. You’re safe, calm in his arms. He can smell you in the air, always something sweet, strawberries or cherries. He remembers how you looked in the videos, how you looked so helpless. Price told him to destroy the USB, but he already decided he was going to give it to Dr. Montgomery.

“You gave her the formula?” Price asks as Simon closes the door behind him.

“Yeah, she’s working on it,” Simon says, coming over to the sofa. He moves round to the other side, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over you. Price nods at him. Simon knows all about Price’s glances, knows what they mean. He wants to be left alone.

“How is she?” Simon asks, stepping back round the TV.

“She’s fine, missed us,” Price says. Simon can hear the hesitation in his voice. Simon sighs, soaks you in: eyes closed, mouth open slightly, your arm wrapped round Price’s stomach. He wants nothing more than to climb onto the sofa with you both, pry you out of Price’s arms and into his. He knows you haven’t missed him. He just hopes you’re not scared of him.

“You good?” Price asks. Simon doesn’t want to lie to him.

“All good, sir,” Simon replies.

“If you want to talk about it, you know I'm around,” Price says.

“It’s okay Price, I’m good.” Simon’s voice is harsh in the air, his heart pounding in his ears as your scent fills his nose. You’re relaxed, you’re safe. It’s nothing like the videos, it’s nothing like the reports he has seen.

He’s jealous. He wishes you were in his arms. He doesn’t want to be jealous of Price but he can’t help it. There’s an ache there, something he can’t put his finger on. It hurts like a deep pain in his chest, something he hasn’t felt in years. He remembers what Dr. Montgomery said; it’ll get easier once you’re claimed. He wishes it was him doing it instead of John.

He picks his bag up then heads to his room walking past Johnny’s open door, his kit spread all over the floor. Typical, he must be the one in the showers since Gaz’s door is closed. He goes into his room throwing his bag down. He grabs a towel and a change of clothes. He needs to blow off some steam.

Simon walks into the bathroom, his nose filled with the smell of Johnny. It’s a good smell, soapy and fresh. It reminds Simon of a warm summer's day, clean sheets in the breeze. Johnny’s head pokes out from one of the showers.

“Hey LT, come to cop a look?” Johnny winks at him from across the room. Simon rolls his eyes, stripping his clothes off, pulling his mask over his head. He can feel Johnny’s eyes on him. Simon likes when Johnny’s eyes are on him, and he’s not sure why. There’s a new scent in the air, he could faintly smell it when he walked into the building earlier. Vanilla, only this time it's heavy in the room, he makes his way round to the showers. Simon can see Johnny trying and failing to avoid his gaze. Maybe it was just Johnny’s shower gel this whole time.

“See something you like, Sergeant?” Simon asks, turning on the shower. He holds his hand under the water as it starts off cold.

“It’s nice and warm in here, sir,” Johnny says, leaning on the wall between them. There’s the smell of vanilla again, this time it hits Simon fast, right at the back of his nose. He looks over at Johnny with that cheeky grin on his face and before he knows it, he’s turned off his shower.

Johnny’s eyes follow him around as he steps into the cubicle with him. Johnny’s hands immediately run up Simon’s chest, his hands are soft, and his touch is nice. Simon presses closer to Johnny backing him up against the wall. Johnny leans up, planting his lips on Simon as he grips his waist. Simon’s hands run down Johnny’s arms as he forces his tongue into his mouth. Johnny’s touch is familiar, he knows where to touch him, how to kiss him. Simon relaxes into it letting Johnny’s hands run over him. Simon moves one of his hands up to run through Johnny’s hair letting his fingers massage his scalp.

“It’s been a while,” Johnny says between kisses. He was right, it had been a while. Simon had missed Johnny’s touch. Maybe this is what he needed, a true way to relax and destress. Ever since you showed up in their lives everything had just been a mixture of emotions, everything had been moving at a million miles an hour. Simon could use a break, and Johnny always knows how to make Simon feel good.

Johnny’s mouth moves to his neck, he grips Simon’s cock, thrusting his hands down his shaft pressing his thumb on the underside the way Simon likes it. Johnny looks back up at him smiling before he plants another kiss on his lips. Johnny shuffles his body like he’s about to get on his knees, but Simon grips his arms instead. Johnny looks at him confused, tipping his head to the side.

“We’re skipping the foreplay,” Simon says in a low voice that sends shivers up Johnny’s spine. There’s the cheeky grin again. Simon doesn’t change his expression, leaning down to kiss him before spinning him around. Johnny doesn’t need to be asked twice bracing himself on the short shower wall. This was definitely what Simon needed, he grips Johnny’s ass parting his cheeks digging his fingers into his skin.

It doesn’t take long for Johnny to relax too, the air being filled with the smell of something musky Simon can’t quite put his finger on. Even though the act is familiar, the sensations and the smells are new. That heavy scent of vanilla that’s making Simon’s head spin, the smell of beta filling the air and the other scent Simon can’t place.

Johnny lets out the most beautiful moan Simon has ever heard as he eases himself into him. One of Simon’s hands reaches around to find Johnny’s cock. He pushes Johnny’s hand out the way, replacing it with his.

“Christ Si, desperate?” Johnny moans as Simon starts to thrust into him. Simon brings his free hand up to cover Johnny’s mouth.

“Quiet MacTavish, unless you want Price and the omega to know whats going on.” He gestures towards the wall. Johnny nods and Simon releases his hand from around Johnny’s mouth. Johnny keeps quiet but doesn’t relent with the snarky comments. Simon’s almost not paying attention, letting Johnny run his mouth, enjoying hearing his voice and letting himself get lost in the pleasure. His senses feel heightened, he can tell Johnny feels it too, Johnny’s panting becoming faster as Simon wraps his arm round his stomach hitching him up so he’s bouncing down onto him.

The smell of alpha is strong in the air and it only gets stronger the closer Simon gets to cumming, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of Johnny’s neck, his moans becoming more like whimpers as he gives into the scent. It’s intoxicating. Simon isn’t thinking when he cums, his hand pumping his fist on Johnny’s cock, letting Johnny get as loud as he wants as he thrusts into Simon’s hand. The smell of beta and vanilla fills the air. Johnny goes limp in Simon’s arms and he holds him against the wall.

Simon’s head is spinning, his body tingling, he’s never felt pleasure like this before, Johnny's arms are slumped over the short wall as he pants, Simon’s hand still holding his spent cock. Simon rubs his thumb over the tip causing Johnny’s whole body to twitch and shudder up against him. Simon slowly moves Johnny back under the warm water holding him up against his chest.

“Fecking incredible sir.” Simon can’t help smiling as he lets go of Johnny letting him stand by himself.

“Not too bad yourself Johnny,” Simon says, slapping Johnny's ass as he leaves the cubicle, going into the one next to him. This time he lets the cold water hit his skin, and his mind turns to you, the smell of strawberries fills his nose. He tries to shake it away, but it’s not long before the pit forms again in his chest like there’s something missing. Simon looks over at Johnny.

He’s finishing up, turning the shower off to leave. It’s not the same anymore, the burning pain of needing an omega is too strong. He wanted Johnny but he needs you. He closes his eyes, turning up the heat on the water. He lets it burn his shoulders as he hears the door to the room open and close.

He’s alone now but he doesn’t want to be. He wishes it was you in the shower with him today, not Johnny. He can’t keep doing this, he has to get over you, for the team's sake. You’re Price’s omega not his, and until there is a cure it has to be that way. Frustration builds in him as he goes to leave the shower, drying his body and pulling on the fresh change of clothes.

He has to break this up. There's no other way to do it. He picks his mask up, rubbing his thumb over the fabric before pulling it on. Simon can feel whatever he wants for the omega, but Ghost can’t care. It’s just a job, you're just a job, the job is to find a cure and leave this world behind. He picks up his towel leaving the steaming bathroom.

He looks over at the sofa. Price is asleep now, his head tipped back snoring softly. You’re still asleep against his chest, the blanket pulled all the way up to your face. Ghost sighs reluctantly. He can’t let Price sleep on the sofa all night, he’ll fuck his back up. He walks over and shakes Price’s shoulder, it doesn’t take much for him to jump awake.

“You should go to bed,” he says once Price meets his eyeline. Price looks down at you still sleeping. He moves like he doesn’t want to wake you. Ghost sighs, he turns to walk away. He did his job and woke Price up. He hears Price waking you up as he goes back into his room. He moves fast, closing the door behind him and leaning up against it. He smells the unmistakable scent of strawberries as you pass his room. He closes his eyes, breathing it in. He smiles as your scent fills his nose. That’s it, that's the last time he’ll do that. From now on, for everyone's sake, you’re a stranger to him.

Next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui Thank you as aways to rememberwren who told me my work was good when my brain was telling me it was shit <3

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h0ney-mochi · 1 year

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Scaramouche x gn!reader ;; readers pronouns not mentioned

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT (modern ?, not fatui, scara spits in your mouth, reader is down bad)

Summary: You've had enough of thinking suspicious stuff about your classmate, so you descend to the bottom floor to eat your lunch, stay a bit longer. But Scaramouche finds you.

A/n: Wanted to post this old thing from 25-27november. Sort of a filler while I work on requests.

Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!

You were tired. You had told yourself that you will not touch yourself at all, because it had became ridiculous on how a single man turned you on almost every day. But now it was getting so frustrating. You wanted some kind of touch, whatever, but you knew you should resist. Just because. It's not like you had self control, you did, it's just that it had been almost a month.

Every day you would see him and your mind would go MAD. You ignored it. That's how you lived with it now, despite the feeling between your thighs. Despite how hot you felt. Despite how every touch would make you tense up. Despite the random glances or eye contact you'd make with him.

And then one day you decided to ignore him and get away every time you'd see him, anything to get him out of your mind. And Scaramouche noticed. It didn't matter that he saw you in classes, it mattered when you completely dissapeared from his eyesight after classes or during break. So he decided to find you.

You were hiding at the bottom floor, in a dark alley with multiple rooms. You were in one of them, except you had the light on. You were on call with your best friend. Because you didn't dare step out and catch eyes with Scara.

"Oh come on, [name]. It can't be that bad-" they would chuckle at you, smiling at the camera and eating a bit of their food. You rolled your eyes, "I know! But I want this stupid brainrot to end soon, so I'm taking every chance I get." "Yeah, right. Well lunch break ends in.. I don't know the time from head. Do you have food with you?" They ask, biting down on their food again. "Yeah I do, I finished it before you called, hah. Good that there's a trash can here, I got to throw out the papers," you smiled. Then you suddenly went silent. "So, when can I-" They started speaking but you stopped them. "Shh- hold on, I think I hear something-" you quickly said, turning your head towards the door.

"Fuck, what if it's a teacher..?" You mumbled into your phone, your best friend intensely staring at the camera. "No way, most of the teachers are here," she taps her chin, "and I doubt anyone knows where you are." "Well, yeah you're right, but someone for sure is down here-" you whispered back. They were looking around the cafeteria, trying to spot if someone's gone — well yeah, mostly everyone, since they finished eating. "Alright, you wait for them to dissapear and then you come back, okay?" She mumbles. You respond, looking back at your phone, "Yep, that's what I'll do. I'll stop the call now, so whoever is there.. you know." "Ya! I'll see you soon then. Bon Appétit and good luck!" They smiled at you. You smiled back, ending the call. You put your phone down and turned your attention back to the door. You heard a few more footsteps, then quiet. You turned the lamp off and sat in the dark, silent, waiting. Then the door opened. You froze. Someone knew you were here. It was silent.

"I know you're in here, idiot," a familiar voice said. Your eyes widened. It was Scaramouche. You heard him step into the room, closing the door. Fuck, you thought, how will you sneak away?

"You either turn the light on or I'll turn it on for you," he spoke in his usual voice. That same voice that has you on your knees. You went silent. You hoped that if you're quiet, he'll think you're not here and check elsewhere. You heard an 'ugh' noise and then footsteps. You immediately turned the lamp back and his footsteps stopped. Yep, Scaramouche. He stared at you and you stared back. He crossed his arms, "so you are indeed here." You put your hands in your lap, "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Scara shakes his head, then motions to the room, "First of all, why the fuck are you hiding in here?" You stare. "..I don't like being around people..?" You tried to lie, shrugging. He glared at you, "How come you've been fine with people for weeks and then suddenly not?"

"Psh, why are you asking anyways? Why are you here, actually?" You tilted your head. Scara thought of what to say, eyes scanning the room you're in. Then he looked back at you, "Maybe because you always pester me, but suddenly there's not a single trace of you? Like you just died, but no, I see you in your seat. But then you dissapear." You stared. Damn bruh why would he care- you thought, eyeing him. He rolled his eyes, sighing. "Are you avoiding me on purpose?" He asks. His gaze was intense, you looked away. "No, I have no reason to," you mumbled, looking at the wall. "Really now?" He asked again. You felt your cheeks starting to heat up. Of course you avoided him.

"Answer me when I talk to you." He groans at you. You shrug, "I already answered if you weren't listening." Then you heard quick footsteps. Scara walked in front of you, his hand went to your chin, turning your head to look at him. You gasped, your eyes widening. Scara glared down at you, "that wasn't a fucking answer." You felt your heart starting to race. He was way too close to you and it was starting to fuck with senses. "I'm sorry-" you quickly mumbled, blinking, gazing away, then back. He just watched. Of course he knew. Didn't he?

"You're so bad at lying, you know," he said, clicking his tongue. You glanced away, staring at the wall, you couldn't do it. "Look at me, bitch," he demanded and you did exactly that. Fuck. "..Tell me. Why are you avoiding me?" He asked a simple question. Yet it was so hard to answer. "I- listen, I'm not avoiding you, okay-" "Stop lying right in my face." He cut you off. You weren't feeling well. This was too much, too close. You were silent. "Fine, I avoided you, but why would you care-" you spoke, but he cut you off again. "I didn't ask that, I asked why are you avoiding me." He leaned closer to you. Your eyes widened again, you tried to lean back, but he held you in place. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"You're fucking with my mind okay?? I wanted a break, stop being so close to me-" you quickly said, your eyes glancing away and then back. "I know it's my problem, I'm aware, but please get away-" you added, since he didn't answer. "I'm fucking with your mind?" He repeats your words, not breaking eye contact. "Scara, please get away from me-" you felt your cheeks heating up even more. "Just what exactly do I make you feel, huh?" He whispered. You froze, staring back at him. Fuck. Your mind went blank. You were fucked. "..Scara, class starts soon, I- we need to go-" you quickly spoke, but he pressed a finger to your lips and you shut up. "That can wait. You're going to answer me," he said. You were silent. "I'm not telling you that," you whispered, cursing yourself mentally. "Why not? Embarrassed to admit I make you nervous?" He licks his lips, and you swear you were about to pass out. "Shut up-" you gazed away from him. "Tell me," he demands again. You couldn't just tell him that. But man, what choice do you have now?

"You make me feel things that I shouldn't," you mumbled, still not meeting his eyes. Silence. You regret everything. Then you hear him chuckle and you wanted to dissapear. "Look at me," is the only thing he says. And you slowly did. Scara blinked at you and then pressed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened as a gasp came from you. He moved his lips against yours, and you soon kissed him back. Your hands went to his shirt, pulling him closer. His hand only went to hold you by your cheeks. He pulled away for a small second, "part your lips, idiot." Then he went back to kissing you. You did as he said, parting your lips and he pushed his tongue against yours. A surprised moan came from you, as you shuddered. You two kissed for a few moments. Then Scara pulled away, licking his lips. You opened your eyes to stare at him.

He stared back, "open your mouth." You did exactly that, opening your mouth slightly. "Wider," he demanded. And you did. You watched him. He leaned closer to you again and let his spit fall in your mouth. Your eyes widened at him. "Swallow it," he whispered, and you did that in a moment. He smirked. "You're pathetic," he said and went to kiss you again.

#☆°• ☆ writings #genshin x you #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche smut #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer smut

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 8 months

Text

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (Part 27)

Tw: religious mentions, short chapter

its mostly filler and like transition material, but only 2 of the options will introduce a new character which may or may not be relevant to the story

man what the hell am i talking about i barely follow my own rules, just chose what yall think best

VOTE BELOW FIRST 20 VOTES ONLY COUNT

Part 28

"Alright! Let's go!" Evangeline hooked her arms around yours and dragged you away. Montgomery had to catch up after you and her.

"Will you shut the hell up?" Montgomery hissed through his teeth.

"I'm just saying, (name) wouldn't have agreed with you saying 'Anita Bath' if you weren't stinky." She took another bite of her pepperoni pizza slice.

"Why are you friends with her?" Montgomery turned to you, exasperated and desperately wishing that you would send her away.

You shrugged and ate your slice. You were secretly grateful that Montgomery came by because you forgot to bring Yves's lunch again. If it wasn't for him, you would have starved until evening. Or you're forced to use your allowance from Yves and Montgomery to buy something- you'd rather save that money for something else.

Then something came to his mind. "Hey, goldie. Ya' said something happened between y'all and that freak this mornin'. What was that about?"

You tensed up, but Evangeline is as cheerful and calm as ever.

"Oh, he just wanted me to stay away from (name). That's all." You stared at her in disbelief. Why would she disclose that?

Montgomery furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

She tapped her chin and hummed. "I think he's jealous."

Montgomery scoffed in response. "Typical of those rich bastards. They'll try to isolate their victims so they ain't got no escape until they're done with them."

You felt like your eyes were about to pop out of your sockets when Evangeline nodded in agreement. Who's side is she on?

"And it's as if (name) would want a lil' stuck-up brat like you." Evangeline shot him a nasty look and placed her hands on her hips.

"Hey, that wasn't nice."

"Whatever, twerp." He dismissed her, taking another slice and handing it to you, seeing that you just finished your first one. You're too hungry to care what this gesture might mean, so you just take it off his hands.

"Stinky." She stuck her tongue out at him. Montgomery flipped her off.

This is... a very sibling-like dynamic you're witnessing. Although Montgomery outwardly dislikes her, you think that they're working together towards something. And it's making your gut instinct go haywire.

You wish Yves is here so badly. He knows what to do.

You turn your head to look at the lockers where your phone is charging.

While they were bickering, you stood up and went to check on your phone. You pressed the correct combination of numbers on the keypad and waited for the locker door to swing open. You unplugged your phone and prayed hard it was enough to turn it on.

A minute has passed and it still isn't turning on. You sighed, replacing the cord and allowing it to charge longer.

You returned to your seat, only to see Evangeline and Montgomery listening to a third person standing up next to them. They're holding a stack of papers, and your unwanted companions are holding a piece in their hands.

"Hi there." They greeted you. "I was talking to your friends about our club, here is a flyer with all our details. Feel free to contact us if you're interested."

You flip the glossy paper over, it says:

"Like to talk? Like to convince? Want to make friends? Join our debate club!"

The stranger showed you, Evangeline, and Montgomery where their phone numbers are located on the paper, the names of their social media pages, and meeting times. Which was apparently from 12pm to 5pm daily.

"Don't y'all have classes at these times?" Montgomery asked.

"Well, not all of us do. Anyone can feel free to come in or leave as they like. The session concludes at five in the evening, though."

All three of you gave them a response of acknowledgment.

"We hope to see new faces! I'll get going now, bye!" They walked away and began conversing with other people, promoting their club.

You stared at it. People were promoting their clubs last semester, but you never joined any of them. Maybe you should heed Yves's advice and put yourself out there so that you're not stuck with Evangeline, Montgomery, and Yves as your only friends.

"What do you think, (name)?" Evangeline asked you. "Are you going to join? I'll come with if you do."

You didn't respond verbally, but your body language should be expressing discomfort.

"Sweetheart, I think you're better off joinin' this." Montgomery took out a folded brochure from his pocket.

You tried your best to smoothen it, but it was crumpled beyond repair.

It seems to be a promotional medium for the university's youth group. Sponsored by the Catholic Church.

He wants you to join... a Christian club?

"Y'all should be findin' Jesus. You'll learn a thing or two about work-life balance from those bible studies."

You saw a mischievous glint in Evangeline's baby blues and you know that it's not going to end well.

"Wow, Monty! That's so Christian of you to harass (name), and give them gifts and food in exchange for something you want from them! Look! (Name) is already following in the steps of Christ. Like in 1 Peter, chapter 2, verse 20: When you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. Great job taking his bullshit!" She clapped her hands and giggled madly.

Montgomery shook his head and looked at her with great incredulity. "What the hell are you even talkin' about?! Y'know what, I don't care. Run ya' mouth all you want."

He turned to you. "Trust me, if you wanna join a club, yer' better off joinin' this one." He rubbed your forearms in his hands.

"Didn't you say we're grown? (Name) can totally make their own decision on which club they want to join."

Montgomery narrowed his eyes at her but didn't say anything in retaliation for once.

"Which club will you be joining, (name)?"

#yandere male #yandere concept #yandere oc #yandere x you #oc yves #male yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere oc x reader #oc montgomery #oc evangeline

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kalixora · 2 years

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“I’m death. Straight up.”

Gaz x reader (Kinda🦭)

. Uhhh surprise?

INSPIRATION: Puss in Boots: The Last Wish

I watched the movie again...

Codename: Death

“Task 141. The dangerous ones without guns, a secret force that hides in the shadows and takes down enemies far and wide… and yet here we are, like a cat on its last life.”

Price narrowed his gaze, taking in your presence was one thing. But speaking with you directly was a different matter entirely; it was like being in the presence of death itself.

And what you were / are Death. When it was to your advantage, you were cold, cruel, brutal, and at times empathetic. You were frequently kept under close observation since you had a reputation for making a statement, but that didn't deter you.

"Do you find this amusing?" Price inquired sternly.

“Very,” you mused.

“Why’s that?”

“Because, your standing in here with me alone with no backup.”

Price hummed, crossing his arms, a powerful bodily movement he knew wouldn't bother you, but he needed to get control of the situation. You were both aware that you had the overwhelming advantage, as you always did. This was body language to catch your attention, and you enjoyed a good test.

"Captain, why are you here?" You chuckled. "I can't imagine the strings you pulled to stand in a room with me; are you sure you don't want to smoke one of those cigars?"

“No,” Price leaned to the side and took out a little piece of paper and a pen. He set it on the table and slid it halfway to you. You took the paper and read it as you looked at him, mystified. Your sneer, on the other hand, never wavered. As you tap the pen against the table, a small chuckle escapes your lips.

“What’s this a permission slip?”

“You could say that, yes.”

You hummed as you leaned back in your chair, your gaze scanning the Captain's face, which was solemn. Without a doubt, serious.

"I'm flattered, believe me, but why me? You have Ghost don't you? Say how is Simon doing? Is he behaving himself? And how is Kyle? Still attractive?"

Price nods, “They’re fine.”

“Mmmm, so what’s the problem captain? Tired of your life flashing before your eyes?”

“Then I wouldn’t be good at my job, so here’s the deal- I want you to join my task force, your a powerhouse and from I’ve gathered a lone wolf, even lone wolves stray from packs yeah?”

“Correct.”

“I think it’s time we put that line wolf back with a pack, what do ya say?”

You began to snicker, “That was a cheesy analogy Price but, not to shabby, let me explain something to you, a wolf who distances themselves from the world is called a traitor but one who stays is called a deceiver.”

“That so? There’s a fine line between right and wrong, if the wolf becomes a deceiver and a traitor what do you make of the pack…”

“They meet death.”

“I see… so then do we all know death?”

“Only when it comes to you,” you say with the tilt of your head. “Even the strongest of us Captain will always live a life of fear.”

Price stood up and walked out of the room, where Kate stood on the other side. Price let out a rough sigh and shook his head, one more minute with you in there and it was a wrap. He lost.

“Well,” Kate hummed, “what they say?”

“Bloody bastard didn’t give an answer…”

“I told you.”

“I know…”

“They’ll come.”

Price turned to Laswell his expression was unreadable but she could tell he was irritated. “What makes you so sure?”

“Known Death for a long time, shows up when your in distress… don’t worry to much captain, they’ll show.”

…

The mission has gone to complete shit, Price didn’t know if this was a set up from the get go. Gaz had gone missing and Soap managed to tackle someone out the window and got shot at the same time. Ghost tried to contact Gaz for at least thirty minutes now but the only thing he got back was static. Price searched high and low but each trail of blood he followed they all lead to different bodies, but never Gaz.

Soap: Price how copy?

Price: Copy, report?

Soap: No sign of Gaz, just different bodies

Ghost: He may be unconscious somewhere

Price: That means we have a chance, cover more ground under.

Soap leaned against the wall getting ready to shoot the target unaware of everything about to unfold. He found Gaz the second Price said those words, Gaz was unconscious like Ghost said but, he wasn’t alone.

There was someone else nearby, and they were whistling?

Soap cringed slightly at the tone of the whistle it sounded creepy and off putting yet fascinating. The whistle came closer as Soap peered around the corner seeing the person standing directly over Gaz, Soap placed his finger in the trigger of his gun aiming at them.

“Relax comrade.”

Soap stepped out of his corner fully seeing that you had a blade directly in front of Gaz’s face inches away from inserting it.

“Excuse you?”

“I’m one of you,” you chuckle before standing up fully, you held eye contact with Soap as you got closer to him, “Go on, pick him up.”

Soap stared at you unsure, he wanted to call Price or Ghost, you stood on the side of him now glaring at him. “Pick. Him. Up.”

Soap kept an eye on you while moving quickly towards Gaz, he checked his pulse then began to lift him up placing his arm over his shoulder before turning back to you. You were gone. Without a sound.

Soap managed his way with Gaz and finally reaching it to the others and setting course for base. Soap didn’t say anything the whole ride over, his mind was racing of the thoughts of you, who were you? What were you? What did you mean one of them?

Once landed they all made way to see Laswell, where she stood outside her door waiting for them with a file in her hand. “How’s he doing?”

“Alright, doctor says he should be awake within the next hour or so,” Price answered he tone sounding relieved.

“Something the matter Johnny?” Ghost asked as the two began to head over to see Gaz in the infirmary.

“I don’t know how to explain it, it was so- bloody weird,” Soap says through his confusion. “Did Price mention having a new recruit?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Ghost hummed.

Ghost opened the door to the infirmary stopping as he stared inside, Soap peered in the room seeing you again. Right by Gaz’s side. You had your hand on his forehead and you were whispering something to him. In which Gaz began to react to it, his chest moved up and down as if he was chuckling, and he was. His eye fluttering open being met with your piercing gaze.

“Y/N…” Gaz muttered giving you a small smile.

“Rise and shine sleeping beauty, how are feeling?” You say as you look up at Ghost and Soap entering the room. You waved at the two of them, “Ah there you two are, was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

“Y/N…” Ghost said almost in disbelief.

“Simon,” you greeted with a smile. “You’ve seen better days.”

“Are you the new recruit?” Ghost asked.

“That I am,” you replied. “Soap right?” You said fixing your gaze on him.

Soap nods, “Bloody hell are ya?”

“ Death.”

“Death?” Soap chuckles, “As in what?”

“Not any other fancy way, I’m Death straight up.”

239 notes · View notes

zaebeecee · 2 months

Text

Blitzø’s 13 ••

Written by @fletchingbrilliant and ZaeBeeCee

Chapter 6: The Technician, the Informant & the Wild Card

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Read on AO3

•••

CW: assault kind of?

This chapter is very long, but hey, the gang’s all here!

•••

It only took a few days after their first meeting for Blitzø to realize exactly how little Alastor cared for technology in general. Their list was officially quite short: a tech person, an informant, and a wild card were all they had left, and the Radio Demon had strongly implied he was on the last two.

The tech person, though? That was, apparently, going to be Blitzø’s problem and Blitzø’s problem alone.

It was nearly midnight when he picked up his phone and went to Millie’s contact, tapping her picture and really, really hoping he wasn’t waking her up. Three rings in, she picked up, yawning as she said, “Somebody’d better be on fire.”

“Not exactly,” Blitzø said, holding his phone between his head and shoulder and shuffling through papers on the coffee table. “I was hoping you’d be able to throw me a name or a direction. We need a tech person to deal with all the computer shit. You know the system. Sorry for waking you.”

“Ah, geez,” Millie muttered. She yawned again, and he heard her getting up. “Nah, wasn’t asleep quite yet, s’all good. Uh… yeah, actually, there’s a… there’s this sinner in Pentagram City. A wannabe-overlord that inspired Vox t’ really beef up th’ Palace’s security, not that he’d admit it. Findin’ him’ll be your job, though, I don’t got a clue where he is ‘cept that he’s somewhere in th’ underground.”

“Gross,” Blitzø muttered. “Never been, but I haven’t heard good shit about it. How do I even get down there?”

“Couldn’t tell ya. You’ll prolly need t’ talk t’ someone in th’ Pentagram City mafia, or someone with ties t’ it.”

“…right,” Blitzø said. “Cool. So what can you tell me about this guy?”

Ten minutes later, he hung up with her, finishing up his notes. Okay. Cool. If this works—and I dunno why it wouldn’t—we’ll probably be up to eleven.

He raised his phone back to his ear. “Hey, Moxxie. What would I need to bribe you with to get you to come to Pride, like, right now?”

•

“It is late, Blitzø. It is so. So late. And I am so. So tired. You promised a good reason why I'm here right now.”

Moxxie adjusted his bow tie while he glared at the other imp, stifling a yawn.

“So why am I here?”

Blitzø placed his palms together, giving Moxxie that smile he wore that was so obnoxious and somehow still got him what he wanted so often. “I told you, I’ll make it up to you. But, okay, here’s the deal. I need to get into the underground of Pentagram City and I know you know how to so don’t even try to play dumb, you’re already here.”

“You want me to—” Moxxie stopped before he gave himself a headache, pressing his fingers into his temple. “Okay. Great. I can do that. But… why? What are you looking for that you can only get through the sinner underground?”

“A sinner,” Blitzø said like it was obvious, before he sighed, holding his hands up. “I need a tech genius, and apparently, there’s a guy who’s so good with it that he made Vox increase his security. But he’s basically impossible to find unless you go to him, and that’s where he’s set up shop.”

“He’d better be worth it!” Moxxie said, his voice pitching up. “Do you have any idea how bad a sinner has to be in order to operate outside of the dubious legal structure of Pentagram City??”

Blitzø reached out, wrapping his arm around Moxxie’s shoulders before he could back away. “And do you know how hard it is to find someone who not only can, but is willing to hack VoxTek while Vox is in the building? We need shady, Moxx, unless you’re willing to do some manual overrides.”

“There’s no way I’m trying that shit on my own.” Moxxie rubbed his temple with the hand he could actually move. “I’m with you, Blitzø, I just… wanted to let you know that this is about as stupid as everything else you’ve ever done.”

“I mean, I really just need to get in,” Blitzø said. “If you’re too scared and wanna go home and go to bed once I do, don’t let me stop you.”

Moxxie turned a withering stare onto Blitzø. “You need me in order to get in, yeah. You also really, really need me to actually get anywhere without running into trouble that’s just gonna waste your time. So come on.”

He seized onto Blitzø’s wrist and dragged him off, determined to get this taken care of as quickly as possible and ignoring the way Blitzø actually skipped a few steps as he followed along behind him.

They wound through the narrow streets of Pentagram City’s slums, Moxxie not knowing exactly where he was going, but there were signs that those ‘in the business’ could understand. He had released Blitzø’s hand several blocks ago, and was now focused on the walls of the buildings around them, the demons milling about and what they were wearing, and especially the placement and details of every sewer grate.

Blitzø seemed to be ignoring everything around them, but Moxxie knew him too well; he was looking at everything, and probably planning to extrapolate a lot of information from all of it once he got any details at all from the other imp. “We’ve got to start picking nicer places for our dates.”

Moxxie actually let himself laugh at that. “You know, this kind of thing is both easier and more difficult in Pentagram than it is in the rest of Hell, even just the Pride Ring.”

“Oh yeah?” Blitzø asked, unable to hide the fact that he clearly was actually interested. “Is it because of the sinners, or what?”

“Basically,” Moxxie said, catching sight of a particularly scuffed grate. He crouched down, and saw it had been bolted shut. Previously used, but abandoned. Great. He kept moving. “The sinners have a hierarchical system that runs completely separate from the rest of Hell. Since they can’t leave the Pride Ring, and most hellborn would rather live literally anywhere else—and of course Pride leadership hasn’t exactly been active lately—everything is run completely by the overlords. They gather power, acquire soul contracts, take over massive swaths of the city… and anyone who doesn’t manage to reach the title of overlord has to look to other means in order to operate with any semblance of power and control.”

“That makes sense,” Blitzø said contemplatively. “Never been able to figure out the details of that overlord shit, anyway. Humans make things so fucking complicated,” he grumbled. “…so I’m guessing the non-overlords in charge down there are pretty choosy about who gets in and who doesn't.”

Moxxie nodded, turning another corner and finding what he was looking for. “And not only that, but the Pentagram Underground is the only operation of its kind that actually has to operate, quite literally, underground. Because of the way territory is handled here, it’s the only place they can properly operate without being under the jurisdiction of someone who’s gonna take over their efforts with less than a thought. Here we are.”

He gestured for Blitzø to follow him into a space between two buildings that could only generously be called an alley. They had no choice but to walk single file, Moxxie taking point.

“Cozy.” Blitzø kept close to Moxxie but, surprisingly, was actually minding his hands for once. “So is this a… ‘only people who need to know about this place know about it’ kinda situation, or more of an ‘overlords would probably love to get their hands on it but don’t know how to get in’ kinda situation?”

“Definitely the second one by this point,” Moxxie said, climbing over a large crate that blocked the passage. Everything was so much bigger in sinner territory. “But I'll bet even the Vees underestimate just how much some of these guys can pull off.”

They reached the point where another wall cut off the alley, and Moxxie pulled Blitzø to stand beside him.

“Stay close. I'll get us inside.”

He pulled out his monogrammed utility knife, flipping the blade out and taking a steadying breath. Gritting his teeth, he drew the blade over the back of his wrist, just deep enough to bleed. He flexed the skin a few times to encourage the bleeding, then dipped his finger in the blood and began to draw a sigil onto the weathered stone wall.

Blitzø whistled softly. “Damn,” he murmured. “They’re really not fucking around down here. …didn’t know you were familiar with blood sigils and shit like that.”

Moxxie looked over his shoulder, smirking at Blitzø and feeling his cheeks warm. “It's just a little, you know, dabbling. The family uses them too, so…”

He finished the seal, then looked at Blitzø, cleaning the knife and offering the hilt to him.

“You're gonna have to put a bit of your own blood in the center if you don't wanna die when the door opens.”

“Hey, that sounds relevant to my interests.” Blitzø took it and easily sliced his finger open, touching the center of the seal where Moxxie instructed. Moxxie held back a gasp. There was something about Blitzø that was just so… so…

In an arc around where the sigil was drawn, cracks formed around the wall. As this happened, a dull glow emitting from the cracks, the blood that made the seal soaked into the stone and vanished. With a small nod to Blitzø, both imps stepped inside, the door closing with a dull thud and sealing behind them.

All that lay before them was a staircase that vanished into a dark pit, no clear indication of just how deep it went.

“Ready, sir?” Moxxie asked.

Blitzø smirked. “More than.”

They headed down the steps, descending further and further into darkness. The smell of Pentagram City was particularly pungent down here, but as they went, Moxxie began to smell something else: burning herbs, perhaps, or spices, that could have been someone doing magic as easily as simply someone trying to combat the stench. The base of the stairs led to a narrow and short stretch of stone floor, at the end of which was a door with a vertically slatted window providing the only light they could see.

Blitzø opened it, and they stepped through into a strange sort of sinner’s marketplace. A wide, tall hallway of empty space had been carved out of the ground, branching off in different directions much like the tunnels beneath an anthill, and those tunnels were completely loaded with stuff. Most of the stuff were wooden stalls full of questionable goods or offering suspicious services, sinners and Hellborn alike haggling over items or discussing the terms of agreements that Moxxie didn’t want to overhear. There were those without stalls who instead had blankets laid out on the ground, shouting at passersby to try and draw their attention. At least one sinner was busking as they passed, and a few imp children were weaving through the crowd in a disorganized pack, clearly attempting to pickpocket people. Blitzø smacked one in the head without looking, and they proceeded to avoid the both of them.

Blitzø kept his hand fisted in Moxxie’s jacket to keep them from being separated, looking around as they walked. “Architect… architect… maybe that’s it,” he said, pointing at what seemed to be a doorway carved into a wall and covered by a ratted curtain. Beside it was a wooden sign bearing the carved words: ‘ARCHITECT OF DESTRUCTION, D.C.L.’

Before they could open the curtain, it opened on its own, and Blitzø pulled Moxxie back as a little… thing… waddled up to them. It looked like a very large egg, wearing a black and gold pinstriped suit and a top hat with a red hatband. Two glowing golden eyes peered out from a cracked hole near the top of the egg, and another crack formed what looked like a smiling mouth. “What the fuck,” Blitzø whispered.

The egg cleared its throat before spreading out its spindly arms and speaking in a voice that sounded like a boy deep in the throes of puberty. “Halt! No one gets in to see the Boss without an appointment!”

“…uh-huh,” Blitzø said. “An appointment?”

“Yes!” the egg declared. “Anyone trying to see the Boss without an appointment will immediately meet a terrible and horrible fate of everlasting, eternal doom! Do you have an appointment?”

Blitzø looked at Moxxie, then shrugged and looked back down. “Uh, yeah, sure, why not.”

“…oh. …okay then!” The egg lowered its arms and turned, scampering back through the curtain. “Boss! Your appointment is here! They’re short!”

Moxxie frowned. “I… have no idea what’s going on. You sure this is the right place?”

“No, not even a little,” Blitzø said as he winked at Moxxie, then pushed his way through the curtain and followed the egg, leaving Moxxie no choice but to either enter as well or just stand completely alone in the sinner crime underground.

The room beyond that curtain was somewhat like the interior of a real workshop, if lacking in windows. A long wooden table separated the front of the room from the back; where they stood was almost like a lobby of sorts, with an intricate rug and gas lamps in the walls. Beyond was a scene of organized chaos, work benches and tables and shelves covered in tools and metal scraps and wires and all manner of engineering projects. There were more weird eggs running around, carrying various objects back and forth with no clear destination in mind.

Blitzø and Moxxie stepped up to the front table, and Blitzø drew breath, when a giant serpentine creature suddenly surged up from the other side of the table and towered over them, cowl spread and fangs bared. He was almost twice as tall as either of them, and looked like he could easily swallow them whole. “WHO ARE YOU??”

Moxxie felt a deep, intense fear seize him, and he shrieked, diving behind Blitzø and grabbing onto his coat. Blitzø just leaned backwards, putting some of his weight on Moxxie by necessity. “I’m Blitzø. The O is silent. This is Moxxie.”

“The O?” the sinner snarled over them in a high, hissing tenor. “There is no O in the word blitz!”

“Yes. You get me. Thank you. I’m sorry I lied to your egg about having an appointment.”

“You imps should have thought twice before entering the domain of Sir Pentious, Architect of Destruction! I could destroy you a thousand times over with the machines that sit at my fingertips!! Explain yourselves or face your doom!!”

Blitzø turned his head just enough to mutter to Moxxie. “Have you heard of this guy?”

Moxxie let himself shift his gaze to Blitzø while not moving a muscle. “Honestly sir, I have no idea.”

The sinner slowly lowered himself down towards the table’s surface, still keeping his sharp red eyes narrowed and flicking between the two imps in undisguised, paranoid suspicion. Blitzø nodded slowly. “Okay. Sir Pentious,” he began, placing his hands palm together and pointing forward with his fingers. “I was given your name by a contact of mine at VoxTek.”

Sir Pentious’s eyes, if possible, grew even more narrow. “VoxTek…? What could one of the minions of the Vees possibly have sent you to me for, if not death?”

“Well, actually… she tells me that your work in the field of cybersecurity, specifically fucking that security up, made Vox himself paranoid enough to beef up his digital defenses just so you wouldn’t be able to get in.”

Slowly, Sir Pentious’s eyes widened to large and shining red discs, his cowl drooping around his shoulders; it was somehow one of the cutest things he had ever seen. “Vox had to increase his security measures because of me…?” His face lit into a grin and he spun to look at the eggs, his arms outstretched. “Do you hear that, my minions?! My work is being acknowledged! The Vees can no longer claim they have never heard of me!”

The eggs, who all possessed identical voices, answered with a chorus of, “Good going, Boss!” “We knew you could do it!” “You’re the best!” “I found a bologna sandwich in the vent!”

Sir Pentious spun around, placing his hands on the table and leaning towards them. “I have no interest in working with the Vees any longer,” he hissed. “I will only be spurned so many times!”

“Twelve!” an egg supplied brightly.

“BE SILENT!!”

“No no no,” Blitzø said, visibly suppressing his laughter in the face of the clearly unstable sinner. “The reason we’re here is because Vox is wary of your abilities. He’s currently running security at Lucifer’s Palace, and we’re going to need someone who can get around VoxTek’s security systems. Interested?”

“The Vees and King Lucifer…?” Sir Pentious straightened up, cupping his chin in one hand and looking intensely thoughtful. “I may well be, depending on what sort of shenanigans you plan to conduct.”

Moxxie stepped out from behind Blitzø, feeling it was probably safe enough now that the sinner had become more amicable. “So, are you aware of Princess Morningstar’s upcoming debut?”

When Sir Pentious shook his head, Moxxie patiently explained. “Alright. You at least are aware of how strange things have been, the mystery surrounding the Morningstar’s homestead ever since the, ah… the Queen Lilith Incident?” Thankfully, he didn't need to go into depth about that messy scandal and its bizarre fallout. “King Lucifer has maintained permanent residence at Morningstar Palace since before… that, and has hardly been seen by anyone in decades. Princess Charlie was away for her studies, and training under her mother. Now she's been with the King for a while, and they've begun sending out invitations for her ‘royal debut.’”

“The Princess is making her debut with her father?” Sir Pentious asked, one eyebrow raising. It was then that Moxxie noticed the eye on his hat was moving, and at the moment, it kind of looked like it was frowning. “Strange, I had heard that Queen Lilith… never mind,” he said, holding his hands up and shaking his head.

Blitzø nodded slowly. “So that’s what it’s for. …yeah. The guest list makes sense now.” He looked at Moxxie. “Do you know if Lucifer’s actually coming out of hiding, or seclusion or whatever the fuck? Or is he… passing on his throne or something?”

“That's the crazy thing,” Moxxie said. “Nobody knows for sure. All anyone seems to know is that Princess Charlie is making her official entrance into Hell's political landscape, and that something is going to be revealed on the seventh night of the whole week-long affair. The invite list is long, and it's expected that all of the Deadly Sins will not only be in attendance, but will also be presenting special festivities one by one, each night with a different sinful theme. The night of Pride is the final night.”

Blitzø clapped his hands together. “Badass. So, Sir Pentious, the deal is this.” He turned back to the sinner. “We’re getting a group together to rob the palace during the week of the debut. It’ll screw over Vox’s reputation if we’re successful, and it’ll piss off the ruling class. Interested?”

Sir Pentious squinted in thought. “…let me get this straight,” he said with a hiss. “If I assist you in this, I will be able to publicly humiliate Vox in one of his own fields, best a Deadly Sin, and get paid? Is this your proposal?”

“In a nutshell,” Blitzø said. “Plus, if you don’t agree, I’m gonna have to rely on a recommendation from the Radio Demon and I don’t think he knows shit about this.”

The serpent’s cowl spread again. “Alastor?!”

Blitzø hesitated. “…you’ve met, I guess?”

“Alastor is my sworn enemy!!” Sir Pentious yelled, shaking his fists at the ceiling. “I will not permit him to ignore my abilities again!”

“…I… don’t think he—…”

“I WILL DO IT!!”

“…oh.” Blitzø blinked again. “…well. That’s… good, I’m glad.” He handed Sir Pentious something that was probably his phone number. “Here. Text or call this number so I have yours. I’ll be getting in touch with you soon.”

“Of course! You have nothing to fear, my little imp friends! I, Sir Pentious, shall tear down the walls of Lucifer’s Palace like the stones of Jericho, tumbling from the sky to crush our enemies! GRIND THEM INTO THE DIRT LIKE THE FILTH THEY ARE!!” Sir Pentious swiveled around to his eggs. “Egg Bois! We have much preparation to complete and very little time in which to do it! GET TO WORK!!”

“Okay, Boss!”

Blitzø took the opportunity to usher Moxxie out of the little room, exhaling as soon as they were back in the hallway-like tunnel. “Would you believe that he isn’t the weirdest guy I’ve recruited so far?”

Moxxie cast his wary eyes from the door back to Blitzø. “That both doesn't surprise me, and really, really frightens me, sir.”

•••

Informant. Wild card.

That was all that was left.

Blitzø sighed as he sank into the couch, spreading his arms behind his head and staring at the ceiling. “How the fuck do I find an informant?” he grumbled under his breath. Usually, he was the guy who knew things, or at least the one who went to get his own damn information. He’d never had to deal with someone else who collected information.

He was pretty sure he hated it.

Loona was out of the apartment—working, she said, but for all Blitzø knew she could have been on a date or something and he really didn’t need to be thinking too much about how little he knew about Loona’s personal life—and Blitzø felt a little bit lost. He was still keyed up from visiting the Pentagram underground, and Moxxie had been worked up enough that even Blitzø could tell propositioning him to blow off steam wouldn’t end positively.

“Fuck,” he muttered at the ceiling. “I need to get laid.”

But, since that wasn’t happening, Blitzø found the remote and turned the TV on. The screen immediately lit up with that weird VoxTek telenovela about that Gabriella chick and that Alejandro dickwad. “…haven’t watched this in ages,” he muttered, trying not to think too much about the last time he had actually sat through any of it.

He always fucking loved this show. Made me watch six seasons with him.

It was obvious that Gabriella was letting Alejandro get away with way too much bullshit again, and Blitzø found himself completely caught up in the unnecessary yet utterly captivating drama. Zoned out, very close to comfortably numb, he was able to tune out the rest of the world.

This meant that he didn't hear the window open in Loona’s bedroom, nor the door opening and closing with the subtlety of a practiced assassin. He was unprepared, then, when the intruder swept one long arm around Blitzø’s neck from behind the couch. He could hardly put up any resistance when his attacker forced him forward off the couch, splintering the coffee table and sending its contents to the floor.

Blitzø was pinned on his chest, a long and lithe body pressed against him. Knees dug into the backs of his legs. His breath was completely restricted, and the stranger used this opportunity to offer his greeting.

“Hey, Boss. Long time no see.” Something cold and sharp was touching his cheek, offsetting the feeling of hot breath.

Panic wasn’t something that Blitzø felt often, and this was as close as he ever got. His chest burned as he struggled to draw breath, but he wouldn’t show that he was thrown off. He couldn’t. Not to this guy.

His voice was strained, but level, as he managed a smirking reply. “Hey, Striker. Miss me… so bad you… couldn’t knock?”

“Don't be cute, Blitzø,” Striker said, but Blitzø could hear him smirking. “Wanted to make sure I had a chance to make my case. Heard you got out. Heard you're planning something big.”

“Word travels… fast,” Blitzø answered. He managed to turn his head in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his roguish assailant with his better eye. “Not really… making me want… to hear you out, though.”

He caught the glint of Striker’s glittering gold tooth and the sharp narrowing of his eye, one of the features that raised questions throughout Hell as to the demon’s origins. He also saw the dagger he was holding toward his face.

“That's why I figured this was the best way to make sure you listened. Hardly anybody’s got any clue you're going after Lucifer's Palace, don't worry. I just got my ear to the right doors.”

The tip of the blade touched Blitzø's cheek, not quite hard enough to cut just yet.

“I want in.”

Blitzø raised one eyebrow, tipping his head away the bare centimeter that he could. If only he wasn’t laying on his fucking gun… of course, for now, cooperating was his best bet. “I don’t… need an assassin,” he said, baring a few of his own teeth in a sharp grin. “But… you probably already know… that. So what services did… you come here to… offer?”

The way Striker smiled, Blitzø could sense that he'd felt a sense of victory. “I know you ain't got no ears with the blue bloods anymore. But I do. You wanna know what those rich fucks are thinking, what they're planning, their movements… I can get you that.”

Blitzø’s raised eyebrow furrowed slightly at that. “…huh,” he half murmured, half wheezed. “Okay, you wanna… talk, we’ll talk, get off,” he said, rolling his shoulder into Striker. “Unless you just… like this… position that much.”

Striker grunted angrily and shoved back against Blitzø before getting off of him, muttering under his breath, “fuckin’... perverted…” and other irritated complaints. But Blitzø had felt what a hypocrite the hybrid imp was being. “Alright. Weapons up. Let's talk.”

Blitzø snickered, pressing his hands against the broken coffee table and flipping himself onto his feet on the opposite side, facing Striker. He held up one hand, then pulled out his gun from his coat, holding it barrel up with his finger off the trigger. Striker got the idea, and they both leaned down simultaneously, not taking their eyes off each other as they laid their weapons on the broken table and then straightened and backed off.

“So,” Blitzø began, hooking his thumb in his pocket and scratching his cheek with his other hand. “You’ve still got all your… connections,” he said, drawing the word out just a little. “Obvious question first: why offer your services to my possibly doomed little excursion when you could sell me out and probably make a mint doing it, depending on how you handle it? We didn’t exactly part on friendly terms.”

“That's one way of puttin’ it.” Striker laughed, folding his arms, leaning back on one foot with a heavily performative sense of casualness. “But I've only been keeping up those connections in order to make sure it's worth all this ass-kissing to those wastes of flesh. Y'all's people ensured I haven't been able to cash in yet. But I guess it was somethin’ of a blessing in disguise, seein’ as now I'm in the perfect position to do what I really wanna do to those uppity sacks of shit. Money ain't worth nothin’ compared to finally getting even.”

Blitzø shrugged; that checked out. “I can respect that,” he said. “So, other obvious question second: the fuck should I trust you for?”

“Because, Blitzø, we're on the same side. You know that.” He gestured at himself, his expression softer than Blitzø knew it could be. He couldn't tell if Striker even knew how he looked. “I know I look out fer myself above anything else. But so do you. You don't need to really trust me, you just gotta trust that I hate those blue bastards way, way more’n I want their money.”

Blitzø considered Striker in silence for a long moment. He then raised one shoulder in a shrug, closing his eyes for a second. “Well, can’t really argue with you there, I definitely believe that,” he said, looking at Striker again. “Fine. But two things. One: I’m in charge, and as long as you stick to the fucking plan and don’t fuck with anyone else, you’ve got your autonomy here. And two: if my backer decides he doesn’t like you, I can’t really stop him from acting on that.”

Striker gave a large shrug of his own, wearing that cocky smile that was both infuriatingly douchey and infuriatingly sexy. “Sounds fair to me. I ain’t about to fuck with the hand dolin’ out the feed. Not this time anyways.”

“Good,” Blitzø said, folding his arms and looking Striker over slowly. It would be obvious to most anyone else, but with Striker… who the fuck knew? “Gonna be weird working with you while knowing what a sonuvabitch you are. But I guess having all the bullshit out of the way from the word go should make things go smoother, shouldn’t it?”

“My thoughts exactly, Boss.” The taller demon tipped his hat upward. “S’far as I'm concerned ain't nothin’s transpired between us can't be washed away with new bloodshed.”

Blitzø scoffed quietly, but he smirked, tilting his own head back slightly. “That works just fine for me.”

If Striker was telling the truth—and frankly, Blitzø hoped he was—he would be an invaluable asset. He had resources and connections that even Blitzø himself couldn’t understand, and as much as he hated to admit it, the other imp was very good at making the most of what he had.

And if Striker was lying… then he’d be close enough for Blitzø to put a bullet in his head, hopefully before Striker put one in Blitzø’s first.

•••

The large and surprisingly cozy club room was full, nearly a dozen people having gathered over the course of the last twenty minutes or so. Fizzarolli was early, the clown well trained to make sure he was at every engagement before anyone else, whether he made his formal entrance late or not. The address Blitzø had given him was… peculiar, to say the very least. In fact, calling it an address was being generous to what some strange hand had scrawled on a scrap of old paper. It was more like a set of arcane instructions. He was to go to the northern point of Pentagram City, then continue north outside of the city limits, until his cell no longer picked up a signal from any VoxTech towers. There, up a barren hill that dropped off in a sheer cliff on the other side, he had to knock on the empty air. The rhythm he had to knock belonged to some human melody he was unfamiliar with. But it worked, and after he successfully knocked, a massive house manifested before his eyes. It was angular and strange, defying the eyes to figure out how it was staying upright. An old manor house would be the best way to describe it, all dark grays and dull deep wine reds, the colors of dried blood. All the fireplaces and lamps glowed an eerie green, not like Greed hellfire. There were no visible flames, and they gave off no warmth.

The club room was full of antique-looking armchairs and lounges and side tables, the bar fully stocked but all the bottles looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades, totally covered in dust. Fizzarolli had waited by the front door for Blitzø to show up, unwilling to brave the creepy house alone, since no host came to greet him. Blitzø was far more blasé about the arrangement, but of course, Blitzø was a terrible gauge for whether something was creepy as fuck or not.

Fizzarolli stayed close by Blitzø as the others arrived, observing each member of the motley crew his best friend had assembled for this insane plan.

Blitzø hadn’t been alone, arriving with Loona, who immediately found a chair disconnected from the rest of the room and curled up in it with her phone. He stayed close to her, but stood beside Fizzarolli as he went through what looked like a file folder on his cell. “Not worried about being trapped in a room with a bunch of sinners, are you, Fizz? You’re known in Pride too, y’know.”

Across the room, the door opened again, and another imp with white hair stepped in and held said door for a female. She said something to him, and somehow, the male imp managed to smack himself in the head with the already open door. He then looked through the doorway again and practically scuttled out of the way as two sinners came in after them; one was incredibly tall, pretty, and all white and pink, dressed in the bleeding edge of casual high fashion, the other shorter and in ripped clothing, one large eye taking up the majority of her face. The two of them were talking animatedly, and they clearly already knew each other.

“I… I can handle it. Totally.” Fizzarolli watched the sinners enter, trying to force himself not to grab onto Blitzø’s coat. They were so tall, even the shorter woman. “Where the fuck did you find these guys, how do you know them?”

“Uh… well, I adopted Loona— ow,” Blitzø hissed, as Fizzarolli immediately elbowed him in the ribs. The taller imp chuckled quietly. “Sorry, sorry. Those two, I’ve done jobs with,” he said, gesturing subtly between the other two imps. “Most everybody else, through solid tips.”

Another Hellborn entered; he was very tall, and he looked like an imp… but he couldn’t be a full-blooded imp, not with those features. And then, three more sinners entered: a woman with long gray hair who was quite short for a sinner but still taller than them, a winged man with black and white fur who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, and a man who was mostly a very long snake with eyes on both the hood on his head and his actual hat.

Blitzø was muttering under his breath, counting off. “…good, everyone’s pretty punctual. Money’ll do that.” He patted Fizzarolli on the back and gave him an easy smile before he stepped forward and positioned himself so the whole room could see him. “Hey, what’s up, fuckers, glad to see none of you got lost,” he said, loud enough to be heard in the entire room as people settled either in chairs, on couches, or standing in various locations. “As soon as our most gracious host arrives, we’ll get started.”

“Hey, B~” one of the sinners, the really tall one with all the arms, trilled in a very male voice. Blitzø winked at him, but otherwise, actually seemed to be behaving himself.

Fizzarolli shifted, his arms folded, suddenly beginning to feel overwhelmed, and maybe a little crowded. It wasn’t really that many strangers, all things considered, but it took a lot less to freak him out when he wasn’t in character. When he didn’t have the pressure of Mammon’s heel at his back.

Thankfully, it didn’t take very long for something to distract him from his mounting anxiety. A particularly large fireplace sat opposite the bar, also disturbingly empty yet glowing that eerie green light. That light sank into nothingness for a few moments, and the entire group was left in total shadow for several moments before the light returned, and the only thing that had changed was that they had been joined by one more sinner. Fizzarolli shuddered when he saw him. He was smiling just a little too wide, standing in front of the fireplace with his hands perched on a staff fashioned into an old looking microphone. This was definitely the Radio Demon.

“Why is he making a big entrance? I thought this was your party.” Fizzarolli muttered to Blitzø.

“Because he’s a fuckin’ drama queen,” Blitzø muttered back. “Besides, it’s his house.”

The silence had an odd quality. Some people clearly recognized the Radio Demon and were not happy to see him. Some people seemed to have no idea who this weird red sinner was. And one person…

“ALASTOR!!” the serpent sinner exclaimed, surging upwards.

“Shit,” Blitzø muttered before moving forward. “No no no, stop that,” he said, actually climbing onto some furniture to get high enough to grab the sinner by the shoulders. “Sit the fuck down, I’m not going to wait for blood feuds to play out.”

“Blood feud?” Alastor blinked several times, utterly nonplussed. His head tilted dramatically to one side. “You need not worry about any blood feud, dear Blitzø, I have no idea who this fellow is!”

“What— you dare insinuate we have not done BATTLE?!”

“For fuck’s sake,” Blitzø muttered, shoving the serpent down before he crouched over him on the back of the chaise, his tail lashing the air behind him. “Pentious. Siddown. If nothing else, you have to know it isn’t appropriate to murder someone when they’re hosting you.”

The serpent made some kind of noise that was trying to be words, but Blitzø ignored him, placing his hands on the arm of the chaise and flipping off of it. He then turned to face all of them.

“Right. Thank you for the demonstration of the first rule: don’t fucking do that. We’re going to be working together until the end of the party. You can try to kill each other later. Now.” He cleared his throat, then gestured to himself. “You all know me, but in case of head trauma or some shit, I’m Blitzø, the O is silent, and I’ve called you together so that we can go over the plan, you can familiarize yourselves with each other and what skill sets you have at your disposal, and we have time to gather whatever you’ll need to do your jobs. First, you need to know each other, so introductions.”

He gestured to the other side of the room. “I trust you’re all familiar with the Radio Demon, by voice if not by face. Alastor is not only our host this evening, he’s also our backer, which means he’s paying for everything you fucks might need, so play nice.” The female imp made a high pitched tea kettle sound through the hands over her mouth, and Blitzø waved her down.

“I’m truly looking forward to seeing what each and every one of you is capable of!” Alastor said, tossing his microphone from one hand to the other before twirling it and stamping it back onto the ground. “And I’m looking forward to seeing just how spectacularly you all fail!”

“Thanks, buddy,” the tall pink and white sinner said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Blitzø shrugged, smiling easily. “I guess you have another incentive along with your pay: proving the Radio Demon wrong. This”—Blitzø gave Fizzarolli a look that clearly said ‘Fizz I am so sorry, I’m getting this part out of the way’—“is our Face, Fizzarolli. He’ll be your go-to if you need someone to schmooze their way into places you shouldn’t be and can’t discreetly break into, distractions, social cover when operating, that kind of thing.”

It’s okay, buddy. We all do what we gotta do. Fizzarolli stretched his false limbs in high arches over the few people in front of him and landed with a spin and a flourish. It wasn’t much, but he wasn’t being paid (forced) to do anything more.

“Hey, hey, how’s it going nice to meet you!” He waved with his best meet-and-greet smile.

Several people murmured something, a couple of people clapped and looked rather impressed, and the apparently very talkative tall sinner muttered to his one eyed companion, “He’s even cuter in person.”

“Hey, so are you,” Fizz said to the complete stranger, snapping and winking at him.

The sinner blinked large magenta eyes and looked at Blitzø. “Hey, you said no fightin’, but can we fraternize?”

“Knock yourself out,” Blitzø said, gesturing to the female imp as the sinner blew a kiss at Fizzarolli. “This is Millie. She’s the head of security at Lucifer’s Palace and is working alongside Vox for the event, and will be the contact for blueprints, guest lists, room assignments and layouts, and any last-minute changes that might possibly fuck us up. She’s also, functionally, our bruiser, so if you have someone who has shit that you need beaten out of them, she’s your woman.”

“Yer so sweet,” Millie said in a very thick Wrathian accent, waving Blitzø down.

“You’re a bruiser?” the one-eyed sinner asked. “Fuckin’ aces!”

Millie smiled, her bright and charming expression enhanced by the gap in her teeth. “I grew up on a farm out in Wrath, honey, I’ve tossed steers bigger’n some’a yer cars here in Pride.”

Fizzarolli grinned too. Oh man, if I wasn't gay as fuck… He did notice that he wasn't the only one thinking something similar. The small male imp was watching her from a little ways back with huge wide eyes, and he was muttering something over and over again.

Blitzø seemed to have noticed that, too, the way he was smirking as he gestured to the muttering imp. “This here is Moxxie, our pickpocket. Hi, Moxx~” he said with a grin as he managed to get the other’s attention. “Someone’s got something they keep on them and you need it, he’ll get it. Keys, ID cards, phones, rune breakers, anything like that; if you can’t get a key through Millie, you find out who has it and get it through Moxxie.”

“Just don’t ask me to do anything… unnecessary and we’ll be square,” Moxxie said, folding his arms and clearly trying to look and sound more impressive. He even threw in a raised eyebrow and a curt nod at the end.

“Loona is going to be our bodyguard,” Blitzø continued, gesturing to her. “She’s mostly going to be sticking with me, but in the event that any of the rest of you need her services, that can be arranged. Also, she’s my daughter, so if any of you pull any shit with her, I’ll shoot you through the eye if she doesn’t break your neck with her teeth first.”

Loona said nothing, just adjusted her position. She seemed irritated that there wasn’t any phone signal in the Radio Demon’s house.

Blitzø was clearly considering something; when he made whatever decision it was, he indicated the final Hellborn in the room. “Striker is our informant,” he said. “Mostly, it will be information from the Goetia, but since most of the contingents of the Deadly Sins will consist of Goetia, that’s fine. If you want to know who’s going to be where, who has what valuable or key in their possession, where they’ll be keeping them, who their family is, who they hate, who they’re fucking, whatever. Striker will get it for you.” He gave Striker a fairly intense look, but whatever that look was supposed to communicate, he didn’t say.

Striker, who was leaning against the far end of the bar, gave a deep tip of his hat to Blitzø. It made Fizzarolli shudder. “Don’t mistake this for any kind of friendship on my part, mind. I’m probably gonna hate y’all near as much as I hate the bluebloods. But I’ll get the job done, no mistake.”

Someone muttered something Fizzarolli couldn’t hear, but Blitzø responded, “Oh, that’s downright chipper for him, don’t expect better.” He clapped his hands together. “And speaking of who’s fucking whom, Angel Dust here is our acrobat. He’s your go-to if you need someone to get anywhere that requires… flexibility, extreme climbing, tight spaces, all that. I also have it on good authority that he’ll seduce anyone you need seduced.”

“I charge extra for women,” Angel Dust said, pointing at Blitzø. “I ain’t most of their type, anyway.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t make you play straight, I doubt you can,” Blitzø said. As Angel Dust cackled, Blitzø continued, “Cherri Bomb is our demolitionist. Blowing safes, doors, walls, causing distractions, anything that can be achieved with an explosion you get through her.”

“And if you piss me off, I’ll blow you up with the target,” Cherri Bomb said, grinning as she and Angel Dust exchanged a low five.

Blitzø snorted in amusement. “You don’t get paid double if you’re blown in half. Keep that in mind. Husk is our on-floor croupier,” he continued, gesturing to the winged sinner. “He’ll be providing observations from the gambling floors, running tables, and will be able to get in very close proximity both physically and conversationally with any high-value target. He’ll also have the easiest access to information on any winnings in the casino areas.”

“Don't mess with my table and we'll get along just fine,” Husk said. Of everyone gathered, Fizzarolli was certain that the croupier was the most miserable about the arrangement.

“I’d listen to him, I watched him temp-kill like sixteen sinners with a pack of cards,” Blitzø said. As several people glanced at Husk with a new sense of both awe and trepidation, Blitzø continued, “Sir Pentious is our technician. He’ll be handling overrides of the Palace’s systems, anything you need hacked, and the more mundane security around the loot. If you need specialized equipment built, talk to him, he’s a skilled inventor and fabricator.”

“I cannot wait to destroy the safeguards Vox foolishly believes will be good enough to prevent me from accessing his network,” Sir Pentious hissed, apparently to himself but loud enough for the whole room to hear, rubbing his hands together and looking… well, unstable.

“You do that, buddy,” Blitzø said. “Vaggie is our angelic expert.”

The moment he said that, several people murmured, and everyone turned to look at the gray-haired sinner. Angels were always a sensitive topic in Hell: there were very few ways to learn about them, save straight from an actual angel, and anyone who was able to gain that kind of knowledge wasn’t to be trusted.

Blitzø whistled sharply and snapped. “Eyes up here,” he instructed. “All of you have knowledge and skills that you got from places you don’t wanna go into. You want to grill Vaggie, you will start by divulging your sources for everything off-color you know.” No one said anything, so he continued, “Lucifer’s Palace may be just a resort with a fancy, overblown name, but it does belong to Lucifer, and in case any of you have forgotten, he is a fallen archangel with knowledge of all kinds of Enochian seals and protections that most of us have never even heard of. So, yes. We have an angelic expert who will identify, analyze, and dismantle those protections. And, if anyone has a problem with that, they’re welcome to personally deal with whatever seals are present in the vaults that, for all we know, came from the Metatron herself. Am I clear?”

There was murmured assent amongst the gathered lot. It didn't sound especially enthusiastic, and Fizz couldn't really blame them. He too was eyeing the sinner with some trepidation, as she scowled at everyone, head ducked and arms crossed. What did a demon have to do to acquire that kind of specialized, deeply protected information?

“Beautiful.” Blitzø looked around. Everyone had been introduced, but he gestured at Alastor again, like he was making a separate introduction. “You told me to let you worry about the wild card, Mister We Need Thirteen Or My Plan Is For Naught.”

Alastor clapped his hands together. “And I meant it, my enterprising friend!” He strode up to take the spotlight once again.

“For any scheme to have some chance at success, you need to take advantage of every possible opportunity to throw your opponent off balance. And may I say that there is nothing more unbalanced than my favorite little… nifty.”

Before anyone could think much about what that nonsense could possibly mean, Alastor made a few bizarre gestures, then reached one hand into a tiny portal that appeared in the air. From the swirling black and green void, he extracted a small demon. A very small demon. She was shorter than even the shortest imps gathered there, with spindly black arms and legs. She wore a red maid’s uniform, her white apron splattered with what looked like fresh red blood. And one huge eye overwhelmed her face even more than Cherri’s did. Alastor was holding her up by the scruff of her dress, where she hung blithely, limbs dangling and a big smile on her face.

“Ooooooh, Alastor, look at all the bad boys!” she trilled in a high voice that started manic, and ended deranged.

“That’s… very convenient,” Blitzø observed, tilting his head and squinting at the tiny demon.

“Aww, she’s cute~!” Angel Dust cooed.

“What is it?” Pentious asked, sounding skeptical and incredulous.

“This… is nifty,” Alastor explained. When everyone just stared, he rolled his eyes as though they had somehow missed the most obvious thing in the world. “N-I-F-F-T-Y. Niffty.”

He released the tiny sinner, and she immediately started scurrying around the room. Fizz lost sight of her immediately, but tracked her movement by how the others all jumped at her approach.

Finally he saw her when Sir Pentious yelped and hissed at once, because Niffty was crawling up his body in a spiral. She wound up face to face with him, clutching his lapels and grinning wide.

“I think you're the baddest boy here!” she said with delight. “Aren't you, oh dark master of the deepest shadows?”

“I— yes! What?! I have been accosted by the small one!!”

Blitzø, who had been giving Alastor a withering look ever since he released their newest member, crossed over to Sir Pentious and pried Niffty off of him. “Ooookay, you can bag yourself a bad boy after the meeting is over,” he said, turning the sinner to face him. “Niffty, I’m Blitzø, and you’re gonna help me rob Lucifer’s Palace. Sound like a good time?”

Niffty’s face, first bewildered, broke into an even more deranged grin. “That sounds like a really good time, Mister Blitzø. I’m very good at following instructions, you’ll see. A very good girl for the very bad boys. Everyone will see.” She kicked her feet in the air in an excited little dance.

“Right, uh, speaking of robbing Lucifer’s Palace,” said Moxxie, raising a finger in the air, looking very much like he wanted to divert this topic as quickly as possible. “Just what exactly are we supposed to be stealing, sir?”

Blitzø went from smiling at Niffty, eyes half-lidded and forked tongue sticking out from between closed lips, to blink at Moxxie. “Hm? Oh, right. Of course.” He set Niffty down, then motioned to Millie, who nodded and hurried over to Sir Pentious to start whispering with him over her tablet. Blitzø watched them for a second before he clapped his hands and looked around the room. “Who here knows what Lucifer’s Palace is, first and foremost?”

“It’s a resort,” Angel Dust said, kicking his feet over Cherri’s lap and crossing his legs. “Real bougie shit. Ain’t been fully open for a few decades at this point, but people talk about it like it was the Vegas of Hell. And it’s like a museum or some shit too.”

Blitzø pointed at him. “Right. So, Lucifer’s Palace has a shitton of valuable artifacts, some of which are older than Hell is itself. And while I don’t give a shit what you all take, as long as you find your own fence, we’re after one artifact in particular. Millie?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” she said, waving at him and setting a tiny projector on the table in front of Sir Pentious. He did something on her tablet and the projector flipped on, casting the screen up on Alastor’s wall. “Thanks,” she whispered, taking the tablet from Pentious and stepping up next to Blitzø.

With a few taps, she brought up an image: it was the same that Fizz had seen that night Blitzø had first come to him with this harebrained scheme, but in much better detail. It was very obvious now that it was made of two different woods, and the twisted groove between the two looked like it actually had blood resting deep inside it.

Blitzø gestured to it. “This is the Bastinade of Life and Knowledge. The story goes that Lucifer, during his fight with Mikael, was thrown through both the Tree of Life and the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, destroying both. When this happened, wood from both trees got caught in the chains made by the Metatron that lashed him to Hell. After arriving in Hell, breaking it into the Rings, blah blah blah, he created this staff out of that wood.”

“…what does it do?” Cherri asked.

“Fucked if I know, and honestly, I don’t really care. But this is the jewel of the Palace’s collection, and if we can get it, there’s a guy who’s willing to pay enough for it that I consider a thirteenth of his price more than worth the risk. Your cut will come from that, as well as whatever you can steal from the Palace and get away with cleanly.”

“Wait. We’re stealing the most valuable thing in Lucifer’s entire collection?” Moxxie stammered, his hand on his forehead. “Are you completely insane? How in all of Hell are we going to get away with that? Who hired you??”

“Honestly, I’m with the little guy on this one,” Vaggie said, suddenly not appearing to sulk anymore. Instead, she looked like a cat that just got spooked by a cucumber.

“Hey hey hey,” Blitzø said, waving them both down. “Chill. I’ve got it worked out for all of you to have deniability if shit goes sideways, and anyway, it’ll be a while before anybody notices it’s gone as long as we don’t trip any alarms.”

He looked at Millie, who pulled up a blueprint of one of the floors of the Palace. “This is th’ basement level of th’ place,” she said, gesturing as she spoke. “The basics of how everything’ll go is like this: Lucifer’s Palace keeps artifacts on display for the public, like the Bastinade, Queen Lilith’s glass harp, and a handwritten book of magic from the library of the first Goetia, Bael. Y’know, a lot of priceless and dangerous shit. They’re basically impossible to get anywhere near, normally; they’re extremely visible and guarded at all times. But during big events, like th’ one comin’ up for Princess Charlotte, everything gets taken off th’ floor and placed in storage, where they’ll remain for th’ duration of the party and for th’ following season while th’ Palace is restored to its usual state. As long as no one is alerted, it’ll be a minimum of three months before anybody even notices shit’s gone.”

“And who will be the first to take the heat for this, under those circumstances?” Blitzø prompted.

“VoxTek,” Millie said promptly. “Every aspect of security, ‘cept Lucifer’s own safeguards, have been turned over to them. Plan is that, when VoxTek looks into it, we won’t give ‘em anythin’ to go on. With what we’re targetin’, and with th’ angelic seals, they’ll be way more likely t’ suspect the culprits are a contingent of Adam’s that fucked with th’ systems and spirited stuff away to Heaven than they would a ragtag buncha sinners and Hellborn.”

Moxxie was looking between Blitzø and Millie, and Fizz couldn't help but notice how he was biting his lower lip, the way his cheeks started to flush. His gaze ultimately landed on Millie, and Fizz smiled to himself.

Good. You don't wanna fall for Blitzø.

Trust me, pal.

“That's… brilliant,” Moxxie said at length, with awe in his voice. “If we don't all die horribly, this will be the greatest heist in all of Hell’s history.”

“That's a pretty big if,” Husk said.

“How are we even going to get in?” Cherri asked. “I mean, this is an invite-only shindig, and most of us aren’t exactly high up on Hell’s food chain.”

Millie nodded. “We got that covered, s’long as Alastor agrees,” she said, looking to the Radio Demon for just a moment before quickly looking away. “Obviously, I’m employed there, and so’s Husk. Fizzarolli has a VIP entertainer’s pass as a headliner through Mammon, and Angel Dust also has a standard entertainer’s pass through Valentino. Moxxie’s got an invitation as part of his father’s—” She looked at Moxxie, apparently noticed him looking at her, and gave him a somewhat awkward smile, “…but… uhm. Oh, uh, and Striker’s was given on request from House Belial of th’ Wrathian Goetia. Alastor, obviously, has an overlord’s pass, which comes with the option for an Overlord Cohort, which grants invites tied t’ th’ overlord in question.” She turned to Alastor again. “If you’re cool with naming Blitzø, Loona, Vaggie, Cherri, Pentious, and Niffty as your cohort as a formality, I can get them passes, bury th’ paperwork, and lose just enough of th’ records if Pentious can help me orchestrate a brief crash.”

“Trivial,” Pentious said dismissively.

“It would be my absolute pleasure,” Alastor said smoothly. “I know you're all suitably honored to be members of my entourage.”

Loona moved closer to Blitzø, giving Alastor a very strong side eye.

Vaggie just scowled. “I'm exactly as honored as I should be.”

“Lovely!” Alastor trilled with just as much enthusiasm as he had for the course of the entire meeting.

“Alright, then,” Blitzø said. “We’re going to go over the plan. Pay attention, because you’re not going to have a lot of time to gather everything you need, and once the festivities start, you’re going to have to work with what you’ve got.”

Fizzarolli made sure to stay close to Blitzø, and resolved to do so as often as possible as long as they were having to work with these terrifying demons. Every one of them looked like they could tear him in half with little effort, each in their own terrifying way. He was no fighter, not by any stretch of the imagination, and knew how fucked he would be if he got on anyone's bad side.

How was he going to get through this without someone to look after him? To make sure he didn't make a misstep, to tell him it was okay to be scared? The only ones he'd ever imagined taking on that role were impossible to reach. And yet, both of them were going to be in attendance at Lucifer's Palace.

He wondered if it was too late to back out.

•

That had gone a lot better than she had expected it to.

The plan was… complicated. It was really, really complicated, to the point that Millie was almost sure she saw almost every single person taking notes at some point. Once he was done, Blitzø had instructed them to make arrangements with each other, and now people had split off into different groups to discuss individual plans.

Millie went to her bag, put her tablet away, and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Steeling herself with a slow, deep breath, she straightened her spine, put her shoulders back a little, and crossed the room. Don’t be nervous. It’s fine. You can do this. Easy. You deal with overlords all th’ time. “Um… s’cuse me, Alastor?”

Alastor, who was standing alone while the others mingled, turned his head around nearly one hundred and eighty degrees. Then he tilted it down when he registered someone small had approached him.

“Ahh! The tiny security imp. What can I do for you, hmm?”

“Wow,” Millie whispered, her eyes wide, before she quickly gathered herself and offered the paper up. “This is th’ thing for you t’ sign, for yer cohort assignment. I already filled most of it in for you, so it just needs your signature before I can process th’ passes.”

“Oh, I see.” His body rotated to line up with his head and he took the paper delicately from her. His brilliantly glowing eyes scanned the page. He spoke as he read. “So you're the one who detests that new-fangled clout chaser? I have a feeling we'll get along especially well.”

“Y’mean Vox?” Millie asked, putting as much derision into the statement as she could. “I don’t see how anybody could work for him and not hate him,” she said, crossing her arms and gesturing with one hand. “Blitzø basically won me over just by sayin’ it was a good way’a fuckin’ over the Vees. He, uh, kinda lost his shit when he found out th’ Princess was insistent on you gettin’ an invite, so I’m glad you’re gonna be there.”

Alastor's eyes flashed, and his smile widened in a manic sort of way. “Did he now? Poor thing, still bitter after all this time.” He held up one hand, summoning a wicked looking fountain pen from thin air, then scrawled a scratchy yet elegant signature in violently green ink. He offered the paper back to Millie. “...You say the Princess requested my presence specifically?”

“Mhm, she did,” Millie said as she took the paper back, leaving it unfolded while the ink dried. “Pretty sure you’re th’ only one she did specify, actually.”

His brows raised. “Well, I'll just have to make a point to thank her personally… though that does raise a somewhat peculiar request I'd like to make of you, my dear.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Peculiar requests’ve been my whole life th’ past couple’a months. Shoot.”

“In light of Princess Charlotte's request, I simply must present myself to her. However, I would also prefer it if my presence went more or less… unnoticed to the rest of the guests, in particular your employer. As a matter of fact, if you could report that I sent my contingent in my stead, I would be most grateful to you.”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Millie said, holding her hands up. “I don’t really wanna deal with Vox’s hissy fit anyway, I ain’t above misleadin’ him. S’long as I don’t get my head literally ripped off if he ends up findin’ out you’re there, of course.”

“No need to worry about that, my dear,” Alastor said smoothly. “If he uncovers my presence, he will be far too distracted to consider how I went undetected. Just stay out of the line of fire, and you'll be just fine.”

Millie couldn’t help giggling at that. “Stayin’ outta th’ line of fire’s gettin’ t’ be my specialty. Thanks, Alastor,” she said, checking the signature before folding the contract. She almost turned to go, but stopped herself. “…also I’m sorry I’m sure you get this all the time, but… it’s really great t’ meetcha, I am such a huge fan of yer program.”

Contrary to anything Millie could have expected, the Radio Demon froze at her words. His grin was stiff, frozen on his face save for the sporadic twitching in his left cheek. “You— Why— Well, I humbly offer my appreciation, dolly. You're a real gem.”

He swept down, scooped up Millie’s free hand, and gave a chaste and fleeting kiss over her knuckles. Millie might have been imagining it, but it almost seemed like his ashen cheeks were just a little flushed. Then again, maybe it was simply because her own face was feeling so warm and she was projecting.

Unsure of what else to say—and since, for some reason, Alastor also seemed a little uncertain—she gave him her best smile as she excused herself and went to put the contract up. She then went to her tablet again, pulling up her own lists and scanning through them real quick to remind herself of anything she needed to do while she had everyone here.

Tapping one of the items, she nodded to herself, then tucked it away again. She skirted around Cherri Bomb, who sounded like she was antagonizing a very flustered Sir Pentious about parts for explosives, and approached her target. “Moxxie?”

Moxxie jumped, blocking his face with his arm. “Hwaaa—! MILLIE! It's Millie, right? Hi.”

Millie blinked a few times. “Um… yes,” she said, working to keep herself from frowning at such an odd reaction. He didn’t seem to like her very much, but why, she couldn’t figure. Was it because she was Wrathian? “Sorry, I ain’t gonna take up mucha your time. I just wanted t’ ask… when your dad’s assistant contacted us t’ make arrangements, they said you’d ‘find your own accommodations’ when we asked about room assignments. That didn’t make no sense, so I figured I’d just ask you: d’you want your own room?”

The color drained out of Moxxie's face. “...oh. Uh, no… no, that's alright. It's— it's fine, really.”

Millie raised an eyebrow at him, placing her hand on her hip. “…if it’s a weird rich people problem with your family I’m too poor t’ understand or somethin’, I can putcha on th’ Pride floor with everybody else in here, ‘stead of th’ Greed floor. They won’t know about it.”

His eyes widened. “Are you sure? My dad, he's… really well connected.”

“I’m sure. And, since you’ll be on th’ Pride floor, if he does find out it’ll be easy for us t’ call it an overlooked detail or computin’ error,” Millie said with a shrug. “And he’ll have t’ take it up with Vox, anyway, so if he wants t’ try and strongarm an overlord, that’s his business.”

“That would be absolutely amazing,” Moxxie said emphatically, his eyes glittering. Then, quite suddenly, he grabbed Millie's free hand with both of his. “I don't know how to thank you!”

“…!” Millie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t pull her hand away; did this guy have any idea how adorable he was? “I— uh, y’don’t… gotta thank me for it,” she said with a small, awkward laugh. “Just make sure he doesn’t find out I did it, that’s enough.”

Moxxie froze, his cheeks glowing a soft pale blue. He pulled his hands back immediately and rubbed the back of his head. “Right. Yeah. Not a problem, I can handle… all of that. Still. Thanks, Millie.”

Millie cleared her throat and clapped her hands together, smiling at him a little. “Sure. Uh, anythin’ else you need, just lemme know. Oh, here.” She took him by the wrist and pulled a pen from her jacket pocket, writing her number on his hand. “Sorry, I only got my work number on cards and I don’t answer that outside’a work hours unless it’s my bosses. But y’can always reach me here.”

His hand was really warm. All of him was warm; it was practically radiating all over her. He held onto his wrist and looked at the number with a silly little smile crawling up his cheeks. “Uh, yeah. That's— good. I mean, I like it— I mean thank you ma'am.”

Millie felt her own face heat up, definitely at least turning purple. “Oh— uh— yeah, sure, I mean—!”

She wasn’t sure what else she was going to say, because Blitzø manifested out of absolutely nowhere, wrapping his arms around their shoulders and leaning on them as he glanced between them. “Do you two require a private room?”

“Blitzø what the hell!!” Moxxie sputtered, but Millie couldn't make out his expression past the taller imp’s head.

“Blitzø, y’got two seconds t’ remove your arm from my shoulders before I remove it from yours,” Millie said, raising one hand and covering her face with it.

Of course, Blitzø seemed put off by neither of these things. He did, however, release them, smiling smugly between the two as he put his hands on his hips. “I’m sorry to interrupt such an adorable moment—”

“Blitzø!”

“—buuuuut I need to talk to you,” he continued undaunted, pointing at Millie. “Just logistics shit, won’t take that long.”

“Okay, okay, fuck’s sake,” Millie said. She managed a smile, looking at Moxxie again and hoping he didn’t find this too unbearably awkward. “Just shoot me a text’r somethin’ so I’ll know it’s you, okay?”

Moxxie had backed away, and was still blushing furiously. But he nodded, and smiled again, so very awkwardly. “Yes ma'am! I mean, yeah. I'll do that.”

As Blitzø steered her off, Millie gave him a small wave and immediately wondered why the fuck she did that, but put it aside to worry about at a more convenient time, like when she was trying to fall asleep. Blitzø glanced back at Moxxie, then leaned down to Millie. “You two should bang, he’s better than your current beau.”

“Blitzø!” Millie punched his shoulder, and he actually winced, grabbing where she hit him. She didn’t feel even a little bit sorry. “I ain’t takin’ relationship advice from you of all people. Whaddya want?”

Millie almost thought she saw a different expression cross Blitzø’s face, but he smirked, and she knew she had imagined it. “Room assignments,” he said. “I want to make sure we’ve got people positioned properly, suite access between people who need that, whatever. Also, Loona will not want to room with me but I don’t want her rooming alone.”

Millie raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re goin’ all protective dad on me?” He shrugged, his eyebrows lifted like he was all innocent or something. “Okay, fine. C’mon over here and we’ll get people settled.”

She sat down and pulled out her tablet, and Blitzø plopped down beside her, one arm cast over her shoulders again as he leaned over to watch. While her lists loaded, she listened to the other people around the room, talking and discussing personal plans, even laughing with each other.

Maybe this was going to be okay.

•••

Next chapter

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a-writer-that-never-writes · 4 months

Text

The Starline Heist

“Hand me the halfdiamond,” said Ebby.

Nik pulled the pick from the small pouch and handed it to him, “One of these day’s you’re gonna have to show me how you do it.”

“Fat chance,” grunted Ebby, “Damn, didn’t anyone teach these idiots how to oil a lock, I’m surprised this thing hasn’t seized up on them yet.”

“They probably think it’s safer for it to stick a little.”

“Give me a hammer and I’d have this thing off in too whacks, it’s rusted right through I tell ya.”

“Too loud,” sighed Nik, “It’s a nice idea though, I wouldn’t mind taking a hammer or maybe even a torch to this building.”

“We’ll torch them in court once we get those papers. Ahha, got it,” Ebby crackled with glee as the lock popped loose, “Your turn Niki old pal!”

Nik gently pried the front plate off the badge reader and looked at the tangle of wires inside, “Hmmm, I see why they used a physical lock, the print scanner on this thing is fried, anyone with a badge and code could just waltz right in.”

Ebby grinned, “Don’t suppose you have the badge and code do you?”

“Not yet actually, my contact wanted an exorbitant amount for them.” Nik fiddled with the wires, “that ought to work,” they held up a pair of white cards to the reader, “here,” they handed one to Ebby, “should get you through most doors.”

Nik quickly punched in a fake code, “one, two, three, four. Think you can remember that old man?”

Ebby shoved the card in his shirt pocket, “I got your number all right Niki boy, got a cloak for me?”

Nik pulled two lengths of fabric from their backpack, “here ya go, make sure not to stand still for too long or the AI will pick up on it.”

They each ducked under their own cloaks, adjusting them to ensure everything was well hidden.

“Here we go,” Nik opened the door and the two quickly slipped inside.

The hall lights blinked on, “crap,” muttered Ebby.

“Hush, they’re old laser-style motion sensors, if the AI had seen us the alarms would already be blaring, so lets move quick.”

They headed down the hallway past several doors before Nik stopped, “here it is, Security Operations Center. Should be able to get everything we need from here.”

“That looks like a retina scanner,” Ebby said doubtfully.

Nik slowly pried the scanner away from the wall, “I can bypass it, it’s an older model…” they fell silent as they carefully rewired the machines' innards. “Try badging in now.”

The door obediently unlocked as Ebby tapped his badge on the small reader and typed in the simple code.

The security center was lined with several rows of desks and even more rows of clear glass monitors.

“Place is like a ghost town,” Ebby muttered as the automatic light’s switched on, “How’d you get em all out of here at the same time?”

“Corporate Christmas party, just worked a little magic on who was scheduled to go and who wasn’t, simple really.”

“It’s all easy for you ain’t it kid,” Ebby was rifling through paper and checking in unlocked drawers, “you think you got it made. Just don’t go getting too cocky, that’s how you end up with a prison sentence longer than the ride to Pluto.”

“I’m sure you’ll keep me in line ol’ man.” Nick smiled. They had slid into a chair and plugged in a small device to the computer there, “Any luck finding the keys?”

“Starting to wonder if I’ll even need them, don’t think anyone taught these boys basic security,” Ebby strode over and dropped a small sticky note in front of Nik, “I believe you owe me a drink though.”

Nik rolled his eyes at the small piece of paper but diligently typed in the username and password written on it, “I’m in,” they grumbled and unplugged the small machine. “People always take all the fun out of hacking.”

Ebby laughed, “somethings never change. They’ll come up with a way to pull the password straight from your mind and people will still be writing them down and hiding them under keyboards.”

“They could atleast invent an invisibility cloak small enough to hide em with.”

“Sounds like a great idea, just hope it doesn’t fritz out the first time you look at it wrong.”

“They’ve come a long way, heard they’ve deployed some back on Earth that are almost entirely silent.”

Ebby gave a disbelieving grunt and went back to digging through drawers, pulling out his lockpicks as needed.

“Got us registered with the AI, it shouldn’t sound any alarms now,“ Nik shrugged off the static cloak and looked around for any flashing lights.

“Don’t suppose you set the camera’s on a loop to did ya?” Ebby asked.

Nik gave him a withering look and Ebby reluctantly slid down the hood of his cloak.

“You can never be too careful, alright.”

“How about you let me do my job and you do your’s, unless you’ve already found those keys?”

“Bah, they’ll be in the last drawer I open, that’s how that always works.”

The two worked in silence for several minutes, interrupted only by Nik’s occasional curses as the computer failed to let them into one program or another.

“Got em,” Ebby said, dusting off his knees as he stood up, “I’m getting too old for this sort of thing.”

“Find us another job as good as this and you’ll have enough money to retire.”

Ebby chuckled, “it’ll be here sooner than you think, Nik. Ready to go get those papers?”

“I’m elevating the access for that badge, tap it here,” Nik motioned to a small card reader, “alright you should be good to go.”

“You’re not coming along?”

“Shouldn’t need me and I’d like to take a poke around their datacenter.”

“Be careful.”

“You too ol’ man, remember these papers aren’t worth getting killed over.”

Ebby nodded and slipped back under his static cloak before heading out into the hall. Once Nik had confirmed that no alarms were going to go off they headed over to the one other door in the room.

“Hello, Beautiful,” they said as they badged in and opened the heavy steel door. Heat and noise blasted forth from the cluttered room, “Oh…, Well that explains the slow connections.” The room was filled with two rows of ceiling height metal server racks connected by a jungle of cables and cords.

Nik pulled out their laptop and stepped gingerly through the mess of wires, pausing occasionally to plug a tiny device into an open port.

“Ahah, now you might have something useful,” Nik followed the cables from one server until they found an empty line and plugged it into their laptop, “username and password? Let’s just pretend I’m the admin why don’t we? And we’re in, really, it’s too easy.”

Nik tapped away at the keyboard for several minutes, mumbling to themselves about poor security practices. “It really isn’t my fault they just left the back door wide open is it? Ooo, what’s this file? Oh.”

Nik sat down hard on the ground.

The door to the security room clicked shut, “You almost done in there?” called Ebby, he poked his head into the server room, “you alright Nik? Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Fine,” Nik stuttered, “just found some real interesting data.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’ll, um, show you later, Eb.”

Ebby eyed him curiously, “How much longer you need?”

Nik nodded, “ I just gotta get this stuff downloaded, should only take a few minutes. You go ahead though, I’ll meet you at the usual spot.”

“We’ve done a lot of good work together, yeah Nik?”

Nik hummed their agreement.

“Well I’ll see ya in a bit yeah?” Ebby hesistated, “Don’t wait to long, Nik, I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“Me too.”

Nik slammed the laptop shut and shoved it into their bag as soon as they heard the security center door close.

“What’s your game ol’man?” they muttered to themselves as they weaved back out through the jungle of cables. They gave a cursory glance at the security monitors to make sure that the coast was clear and then strode out into the hall.

Nik, stopped. The exit at the end of the hall was open, and just on the other side, lit by the wavering light of a streetlamp was the slumped over body of Ebby. “Shit”

The light outside shifted.

A shiver ran up Nik’s spine as the gentle click of the door closing was drowned out by the loud thud of heavy machinery. Their eyes darted around the hall, trying to make out the slight shimmer in the air made by the invisibility suit.

“Stay calm,” they muttered to themselves, trying to fight down the urge to turn and run, “you need a plan.”

There was a loud click, as of a gun loading.

Nik dove back into the security room just in time to avoid the gunfire. They shoved one of the light weight desks against the door.

“Shit, think, Ebby told you all about these damn machines.”

Nik looked hopelessly around the room for anything of use. The machine thudded slowly down the hall.

“What was it he always said about the older machines? You could hear them coming a mile away? Great yeah, well I figured that out on my own.”

Nik backed away from the door till they reached the datacenter. They grabbed the handle and cursed as it sparked. “These guys are gonna fry their machines.” Nik stared at the handle, tentatively reaching out to touch it again, this time without the spark.

A loud thud outside the door was all the urging Nik needed to put their half formed plan into action. As their pursuer tried to bash open the locked door Nik yanked a pair of cables haphazardly out of servers and drug them out into the security center. They did their best to toss them onto either side of the entrance. As the door crashed open in a burst of splinters Nik shoved the ends of the cables into a power bank and dove behind a set of desks.

Nik held their breath, the suit whirred and clicked as it looked around the room.

“Think you can hide?” said a distorted voice, “think you can outrun me?”

There was a thud as the suit stepped inside the room. Nik glanced over at the gray wall panel by the door.

“If you come out now I’ll make your death quick, just like I did for your partner.”

There was a crash as a desk was lifted up and tossed across the room.

“I gotta say you got balls, trying to steal from Starline, I respect that, I really do.”

Nik scrambled out of the way as one of the desks came crashing down on their hiding spot. They could see the wavering light of the invisibility suit only a few yards away.

“Ah there you are”

They carefully stood, their legs shaking, “Why'd you kill the ol’man? It was a good setup. A fake heist. Starline gets the reward for catching another hacker. Somehow I don’t think getting murdered is part of the deal that ol’ Ebenezer struck.”

The disembodied voice laughed, “He said you were smart. But thats the problem with you smart types, always get too cocky for your own good. You’re so easy to fool.”

Nick tried to put desks between them and the machine, slowly inching back towards the door.

“You see I figure that catching both of you will be worth twice the reward. If he'd of had half the brains you do he’d of seen that and backed out on the whole heist.”

Nick bumped into the wall, their hand flung out to a small panel and popped it open. There was a click as the machine's gun reloaded.

“You see the problem with you smart types is sometimes you're too smart for your own good”

Nick flung open the breaker box and flipped the switches, power crackled through the cables and arced up along the invisibility suit lighting it up in a flash of blinding light.

There was a loud pop as the fuses blew and then silence fell on the now dark room. Nik blinked away the after image.

“You forget that older models of invisibility suits were terribly unreliable. Turns out they’re incredibly difficult to insulate against electricity.”

The back out power kicked on, lighting the room in a somber red. They looked over the large multifaceted machine, it looked more like a misshaped disco ball than the cutting edge of technology.

Nik carefully edged out of the room, looking keenly down the hall for any other potential ambushes. Outside Ebby was slumped in a puddle of his own blood.

“It’s really a shame ol’ man, I liked working with you. I really did.” Nik rolled the corpse over and fished in the pockets till he found the set of lock picks and a tattered wallet, “I guess you’ll be the one buying this round of drinks after all.”

#my writing #The Infamous Nikola Tesla

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onelastfic · 4 months

Note

What about some Solitaire Queens interactions?

Basteta lounged on the velvet chaise, her cat ears twitching as she flipped through a stack of documents. "Bugaboo, remind me why we have to attend this gala again? It’s just a bunch of old, self-important pricks trying to show off."

Dai Tai, meticulously polishing a diamond-encrusted dagger, glanced up. "Because, B-Cat, it’s an opportunity to forge alliances and gather intel. We need to stay ahead of the game, and these events are the perfect hunting grounds for information."

Envie smiled, her eyes glinting with a mischievous light. "Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to remind the older generations who truly hold the power now. A little presence goes a long way."

Basteta sighed. "Fine, but if one more god tries to brag to me about their monster conquests, I might just lose it."

Jia chuckled, leaning against the doorway. "Oh, come on, Basteta. Think of it as a sparring match, but with words. And if things get too out of hand, you can always use those knives of yours."

Basteta smirked, her cat-like eyes narrowing with playful intent. "Now that, Ji-Ji, is something I can get behind."

——

Envie sat cross-legged on a floating platform, her gaze distant as she communed with the spirits. "The veil between worlds is thinning. We need to strengthen our defenses before anything else slips through."

Jia nodded, her expression serious. "I’ll contact AJ and Nia about what’s happening. They can help Nico and I can gather the necessary resources. We can reinforce the wards and set up additional safeguards."

Dai Tai tapped her chin thoughtfully. "We should also reach out to our allies. They need to be aware of the situation and ready to assist if needed."

Basteta’s eyes blazed with determination and primal ferocity. "I’ll handle the frontline with Jun. Anyone or anything that tries to fuck it’s way into our realm will burned to fucking cinders!"

Envie’s voice softened, her eyes glinting with wisdom. "They’ll try to divide and conquer. But remember we’re stronger together. As long as we stand united, nothing can tear us apart."

Jia grinned, her spirit unyielding. "We’ve faced worse before. This is just another challenge, and we’ll conquer it, like always."

Dai Tai’s gaze hardened with resolve. "Let them come. We’re ready."

Basteta’s fiery magic aura blazed brightly, her cat-like pupils narrowing. "And they’ll learn, that the Solitaire Queens bow to fucking no one!"

——

Dai Tai was sitting at her desk, surrounded by piles of documents and maps. Basteta burst into the room, her usual exuberance on full display. "Bugaboo! Ya working too hard. Come on, let’s go out and have some fun."

Dai Tai looked up. "I have too much to do, B-Cat. There’s no time for fun."

Basteta rolled her eyes and marched over, yanking the papers out of Dai Tai’s hands. "Nonsense! Ya need a break, even if it’s just a tiny one. Ya coming with me, and that’s final."

Dai Tai opened her mouth to protest but then sighed, realizing it was useless. "Fine. But just for a little while. I have to get back to work."

Basteta grinned and looped her arm through Dai Tai’s. "That’s the spirit! Now, let’s go find some trouble to get into."

Dai Tai couldn’t help but laugh as she was dragged out of the room. "With you, Basteta, trouble is always guaranteed."

"Damn straight!"

——

The queens gathered at a local bar, taking a rare girls night out to unwind.

Basteta raised her glass, a grin on her face. "Here's to us, the baddest bitches and baddest queens around!"

Dai Tai laughed, clinking her glass with Basteta's. "Cheers to that. We deserve a break."

Envie sipped her drink, her expression thoughtful. "It's good to let loose once in a while. We carry a lot of weight on our shoulders."

Jia leaned back in her chair, smiling. "And it's nice to do it with people who understand. No judgment, no expectations."

Basteta nodded, her eyes twinkling. "Just us, being ourselves. That's what makes this special."

——————

Jia and Dai Tai belong to @laylaylamode

Envie belongs to @thepaladincosplays

#callyieverse #tales of mewni #oc #future au #next gen #nextgen #dai tai #basteta #envie #jia #character interactions

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strawberrytannie07 · 11 months

Text

~Coffee Date~

Jungkook x reader

A/n: Hi my sugar cookies! I hope you like this little idea I wrote! I’m not a great writer but I hope to get better and better as I write. This has a bit of fem!reader so just to let you know and it’s all fluff!! Enjoy

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The cold start of winter is tapping at your nose as you stroll down the street to your favorite little coffee shop. You had just moved to the beautiful city of Seoul, your dream science you were a small kid. Your mother and Father had traveled here on a business trip a few years ago, sending you pictures of the beautiful night sky, and all the sightings they had seen. You turn the corner to see the small shop when the door opens you are greeted by the amazing scent of coffee and the different kinds of baked goods. The warmth inside the shop was kind and pleasant. There were not many people in there along with you but there were a few. Some studying some chatting and some doing their own thing. “Hello how are you (y/n)!” the girl behind the counter cheered. “Hey Charlie im good a bit cold though!” you giggle back “Yeah it's getting a bit cold out there, you want your regular?” she asked writing your name on a cup. “Ah yes please,” you say pulling out your wallet pulling out some money, she shakes her head. “you're on the house as long as I work here!” she winks back at you “ charlie I don't want to get you in trouble,” you say to her. She just shakes her head and walks away to make your drink. You walk over to your favorite seat the one in the corner with the big window and the comfy seats. Small little flakes of snow started falling from the sky. You pulled your laptop and school papers out of your bag. Charlie comes over with y/f/d and sits down with you. “Soo how are your studies coming along?” she asks. You smile and open up your computer “It's going good I have a month left before I graduate, I'm kinda nervous about it to be honest.” You let out a dry giggle before taking a sip of coffee. “How has your job here been?” you as. “It's fun! We just got a new worker a few weeks ago, he's great at the job. Every time you come in he's off so you've never seen him.” you smile “Well that's good you're getting along with him nicely I guess” You smile she stands up “ ya know he's super cute and looks like he's your type” she winks at you, you roll your eyes and start to write your essay for your class. You were so excited to graduate, you had straight A’s in every class you had. But you were going to miss it once you were gone. You were going to be a fashion designer and a makeup artist for idols. “ hey y/n you need a refill?” Charlie asks “Yes please, will you let me pay for this one?” you asked her this time, still, she shook her head “you're my best friend that's all the payment, and you could talk to the new guy or just let me introduce him to you?” she asked you have been single for almost 6 years due to you just not finding the right one yet. You roll your eyes “Fine when?” you asked handing her your cup “How about tonight?” your eyes widened “I look like a wreck ” you laugh charlies mouth hangs open “Girl are you kidding me you always look good I mean it's 8 pm and you're wearing a gray turtle neck, black jeans that are tight in all the right places and heels your cute af girl. Me I would have just put on a shirt and sweatpants.” she shrugs you laugh “ok ok fine” She lets out a small victory dance and walks off to the back. You shake your head thinking she was just joking. A few seconds later, “y/n!”. Charlie says you look up and meet a pair of beautiful chocolate brown eyes. Your breath hitches and your heart picks up a few paces. As the man stops in his tracks after making eye contact with you. “y/n this is jungkook, jungkook this is y/n” he takes a step closer and leans down reaching his hand out. “It's very nice you finally meet you y/n,” he says his voice like sweet venom. “H-hi it's nice to meet you too” you reach out to grab his hand only for him to turn it around and give a soft kiss to the back of your hand. Your face flushes at this prince-like affection. ¨Well you two talk and ima go back to work im very busy you know.¨ she lies as she walks off ¨ Mind if I sit?¨ he gestures to the seat infront of you. At this you shake your head ¨go ahead¨ you took a sip of the warm drink in your hand, and you look up to see

jungkook already looking at you. ¨ you are very pretty you know¨ his words commanding a small smile from your lips. ¨Thank you Jungkook, you are very handsome your self ¨ to state. He lets out a short giggle, his voice alone would make the angels jealous. ¨so y/n, what are you doing after graduation?¨ he asked, assuming Charlie told him about you already. ¨Well to be honest I don't really know. I may just go right into my career.¨ you told him. ¨thats great!¨ he smiled and placed his chin on his hand that was resting on the table. ¨what about you jungkook?¨ you ask

desperately wanting to know what this beautiful man was into. ¨ oh well…¨ he rubs the nape of his neck. Your eyebrow raises in wonder ¨I want to be a singer and a songwriter.¨ he says scanning your face to see your reaction. ¨Really wow that's awsome!¨ He smiles ¨yea it's been my dream since I was a kid.¨ you close your computer to focus on jungkook to write your paper. ¨well do you sing out in public?¨ you ask leaning on the table. He shakes his head and you frown. ¨aw why not I bet you sound wonderful jungkook!¨ you praise. His cheek was covered in a tint of red. ¨I don't know I guess I don't really think I am too good you know, to be honest im scared of the public and what they will think about me¨ he tells truthfully. You scoff in disbelief, and you stand in your seat ¨Jungkook I bet you are better than anybody else and if they don't like it they´ll have to put up with me!¨ you say smiling ¨Yea and that's scary!!¨ charlie yells from behind the counter. You laugh and this brings a smile to jungkooks face. You are interrupted by the sound of your ringtone playing on your phone. You look at it and see it has a message from your father telling you it's time to come home for dinner. ¨ hey I have to go but it was really nice talking to you jungkook it was really fun!¨ jungkook stood up ¨yea it was nice talking to you to y/n, maybe we could do it again sometime?¨ he rubbed the back of his head. ¨sure here is my phone number, text me yeah?¨ you handed him a small slip of paper with your number, name, and a heart next to it. You wink at him as you leave the small coffee shop with your bags in hand. You didn't know but it felt like you had known jungkook forever, it was nice to be able to relax and have a good time that night. A ding on your phone snaps you out of your thoughts. You open it to see it's from an unknown number. ´can't wait to see you again princess, how about we meet tomorrow at the park??´ it read. Your lips pulled into a small smile and your fingers started typing a response. ´ I would love that my prince ´ you type and close your phone. You didn't know why jungkook had such an effect on you already but what you did know was you couldn't wait to see him again.

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #fluff #bts #bts jungkook

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sketchy-rosewitch · 1 year

Text

Lonely for too Long: Bo Sinclair x amab!reader

Part 2/2

Masterlist

Part 1: Somethin’ Stupid

18+

Warnings: Homophobic parents (mentioned), use of F slur casually, sex, blowjob, cum play?, anal.

A/N: I don’t know why I got gender envy from whoever I was imagining as the reader but I was so yeah 🤭🤭

The sun began to set as you made your way into Ambrose. The town had lots of cars still in it and you could hear some people chattering in a distance. All of that surprised you, could’ve sworn people left when the sugar mill shut down. At least that’s what your parents told you during college graduation. You knew Bo and his brothers would still be here, especially if Bo stopped contacting you all together, giving zero updates on his life.

Your car stops at the old gas station and your feet his the pavement.

It’s been 16 years. Bo and you stopped sending letters after 4 years and a year after that you two stopped calling. You had asked your parents, who at the time still lived in Ambrose, if Bo was alright. They’d update you but after the Sugar Mill shut down they left, leaving you not knowing what Bo or even his brothers were doing.

A bell dings against the glass door when you open it. “Hello?!” You shout, peaking your head in, you decide to just walk in. Boot’s tap from down below, getting louder and louder until you see a man in a mechanics uniform. You smile.

“Hey Bo.”

“Blue?”

Your heart swells like it did when you were teens. He walks up to you carefully, as if you’re a bird who’ll flee if he approaches too fast.

He touches your face, his hands dry and rubbery. Sad blue eyes meet yours. “The hell are ya doin’ here?”

“I promised I’d come back didn’t I?”

You cover Bo’s hands with yours, his face is thinking. The crinkle between his brows gives it away. Bo lets out a huge laugh, his head flying back.

“Yeah I guess you did..”

Bo let’s go of your face and smacks your back like he did when you two would walk together during school. “I’m gonna close up. You can head up to the house and I’ll meet you there.”

The house was messy when you came in, books and papers scattered everywhere, the dishes weren’t done in the sink, and ash seemed to have missed the tray as it was on the end table by the couch. You sigh disappointed Bo never dropped the habit.

He was at the house moments later.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess… I uh would’ve cleaned if I knew you’d be here. I’m gonna go change. We don’t have much to eat I’ll make us some pizza though. Some beers in the fridge.. Do you drink? Sorry just assumed-“

“Yeah.” You laugh. “I can get the pizza started and I’ll pull out some for us. Go change.” You snort and nod your head towards the stairs. He nods awkwardly then turns, starting to unbutton his mechanic’s shirt and walk up the stairs. You go into the kitchen and pull out the beers and a frozen pizza, turn on the oven and go find the bottle opener. Luckily the drawers are still decent, silverware where the silverware should be, kitchen utensils either in a drawer or in the large jar Mrs. Sinclair used to use to hold them. You find the bottle opener with a bunch of clutter, notepads, pencils, pens, scissors.

The oven beeps by the time you actually grab it and you make your way over to put the pizza in the oven. You set the timer then go to sit in a chair to open the beers.

Bo comes in minutes later, his hair looks tidy, he wears a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants you’re sure were given to him years ago for Christmas.

He sits in the kitchen chair across the table and takes his beer sipping it.

“How’s work-” Bo pauses for a second as if he’s unsure of himself. “Been?” His voice goes higher.

Your body freezes, you let out an awkward laugh. “It was good for awhile. Had a lot of benefits and met a lot of people… I uh- got laid off a couple of months ago. Everyone from the team I was on moved and looked for a different job. We never contacted each other or shit so. I kinda went through a midlife crisis, sold my house, went to do a couple of ‘adventurous’ things and then decided to come here for a job. I knew they wouldn’t have anything computer sciencey here but I didn’t know what else to do.”

Bo purses his lips and nods. “Your parents doin’ alright?” He asks, trying to change the subject.

“I assume so. They’re probably pissed their son ended up a faggot but it’s okay cause they have other kids that won’t disappoint them.” Your heart aches but you shrug nonchalantly, messing with the condensation on your bottle.

“How’d they find out?” Bo asks, his tone seems more aggressive, like he’s jealous but you shake it off, not wanting to read too much into it.

“Well you know how in high school I’d sleep with a girl every other week?” You joke. Bo snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah no, I told them I hadn’t found any girl at work or anywhere that peeked my interest. Then I told them they probably won’t get a daughter-in-law and they freaked out. I never actually said I liked men. They kinda just assumed it, I guess cause I never dated anyone. I mean I do like men and I know, I wouldn’t be happy being with a woman for the rest of my life but still. Then they told me not to contact them anymore. So I haven’t.”

“So no wife or kids?”

You scoff. “Yeah if that’s what you got out of the conversation then yes no wife or kids.“ You then roll your eyes and smile playfully. The timer goes off on the pizza and you both get up at the same time.

“I can get it.” Bo says. You nod and sit back down.

“So what about you, Mr. Sinclair. No Mrs, No Jr?” You ask looking at him, then lifting your bottle to sip your drink. He shakes his head.

“No.” He laughs. “No, No wife or kids either. Had a few girlfriends, if you could call them that. But that’s it.”

The oven door slams shut, he grabs the pizza cutter to slice the pizza.

“Mmm, I always saw you with a wife. Thought when we stopped talking that’s what happened.”

Bo walks back over and sets your plate, then his down. “Things just happened. Ma kicked the bucket around that time. Your parents used to ask me how I was. I’d say fine. Then everyone left after the sugar mill shut down.”

You I furrow your brows.

“What’re all those cars doing out there then?”

“Got them from the junkyard. Makes the place feel more alive.” Bo shrugs, he takes a bite of his pizza. You nod and eat yours too.

“How’re Vincent and Lester?”

“Lester moved a few miles from here. He visits every week or so and Vincent is here. He’s just busy with his art. I’m guessin’ you plan on stayin’ for a minute. You’ll probably see him tomorrow at some point.” Bo shrugs. “Gets caught up in his work, but we all do.”

You nod in agreement. Bo and you finish and he takes your plate, setting it in the already filled sink. You watch as he shrugs to himself, again putting off cleaning them.

“Can sit on the porch for a bit?” Bo points towards the back door, you grab your beer and follow after him. Bo flicks on the porch light and you two sit on a bench listening to the crickets. He pulls out a pack of smokes and lights one.

“Didn’t break the habit I see.”

You watch as he blows smoke into the air. He shakes his head. “Nah, I tried for a week a few years back. Was back to it the next Sunday at midnight.”

“Guess now you don’t gotta hide it from your parents.” You elbow him playfully. His nose crinkles along with his eyes, showing his crows feet. You can’t help but stare at him, watching as his lips go around the cigarette and how he drags it.

You remember when he made you take a drag of one of his cigarettes and you were stuck in a horrible coughing fit. He never let you try it again.

“Blue.”

You let out a small gasp and look away, instead looking at the tree line and stars above it. “Yeah?”

“Nothin’.. you were just starin’.” His arm goes around the back of the bench. You tense up but try and relax again. You take a swig of your beer, set it down on the concrete, then look at Bo. A stroke of confidence paints you. You reach up and turn his head towards you.

“Promise you don’t gotta wife.”

Bo licks him lips and looks into your eyes and at your lips. “I promise.”

“Good cause I don’t wanna be no homewrecker.”

Bo lets a small snort escape his nose. You smile and lean in, tasting the tobacco on his lips. He drops he cigarette on the concrete porch and stomps on it to let it out, then takes both of his hands and cups your face.

You pull away and smile. His thumb traces your bottom lip.

“Blue.”

God love live that stupid nickname. All that it took was you wearing a different blue shirt everyday for him to come up with it.

“Yes?”

“I missed you so much. Please stay.”

“Okay.” You smile, Bo leans in again and kisses your lips, this time sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You open your mouth and take his t-shirt in your hands, groaning as you two okay with your tongues.

Bo grabs the back of your head with one hand and holds your thigh with the other. He kisses lightly but sloppily down your cheek and your neck. You feel as his hand sneaks into your jeans, you push him back playfully. “Not out here jackass.” You say. Bo is panting, his cheeks a bright red, he wastes zero time and grabs your hand pulling you through the house, up the stairs and to his bedroom.

You pull your shirt off and undo your jeans, yanking them down. Bo’s hands are on you again, touching and feeling every part of your body. You take his white t-shirt off and the old pajama pants. Bo pushes you onto his bed and kisses your chest, moving down until he hits your happy trail. He groans at the sight of it.

Bo kisses it and pulls off your boxers. Bo licks up your shaft before taking it in his mouth. Your cock twitches as you feel his tongue licking around the head. “Shit Bo.” You mumble. He starts bobbing his head up and down, spit drooling out of his mouth You run your hands through his hair and grip onto it when he plays with your balls. Your back arches and you let out somewhere between a moan and a squeal, having never felt this before.

You’d never even had sex before.

“Shit, don’t stop. Mouth feels good. It’s so good..” You babble. Your hips thrust up into his mouth, he gags at his but you don’t apologize, you wanna do it over and over again.

Your cock twitches. You groan feeling your orgasm pooling in you. “I’m-“ you groan, spurting into Bo’s mouth. His mouth comes off of your cock with a ‘pop’. Some of your cum leaks onto his chin. You sit up and kiss Bo, licking your cum off his face.

“Thought you said you only had girlfriends?” You raise a brow playfully.

He sits next to you and goes through his bedside table shrugging. “Girlfriends, boyfriends, one night stands, all different bodies. Didn’t wanna make a big deal or whatever so I ‘summarized’.” Bo has a bottle of lube in his hand when he does the air quotes. He shuts the drawer a turns around.

“Not one of them could ever beat you though. I’ll tell you that.”

You laugh. “We haven’t even had actual sex yet.”

“I ain’t just talkin’ about sex dumbass. I couldn’t talk to them how I talk to you. I wasn’t afraid of bein�� with you no matter if we got caught or not. Wasn’t afraid to cry or be happy. You’re everything to me Blue.” Bo explains. He furrows his brows. “Now enough sappy shit. I wanna fuck you.”

Bo kisses you again, he manhandles you so your legs are spread facing the headboard. You lay back again and watch as he squirts lube on his middle finger, he plays with your hole, spreading the lube around it, then prodding and pushing his finger in. You moan. “Relax for me.”

You nod your head and do just that, he thrusts his finger in a few times then pulls out, adding more lube and going in with two fingers. Your back arches.

“Fuck Bo!”

Your eyes roll back. He huffs.

“Told you to relax.”

“Shut up! I’ve never had sex with a man before asshole.” You groan, absolutely flustered. You feel his fingers loosening you up and relax unto him. He fingers you until your cock twitches and you let out a high pitched moan.

“Shit! Do that again.” You start to drool, he chuckles and curls his fingers again, they hit your prostate and you groan. Bo then slowly slides his fingers out, and you watch as he puts lube on his cock. The cool gel hid your hole again and he lifts your legs, positioning his cock towards your hole.

“I really need you to relax for me baby.”

Your chest flutters at the pet name and you nod. He leans over you and kisses your cheek before sliding slowly in you. Your mouth opens, it hurts yet feels so good as he stretches you.

You grip onto his hair and attempt to relax into his touch.

“Fuck, fuck, ah. Fuck me.” You groan, eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to do.”

Your eyes open and you laugh softly. “Shut up.”

“Never.”

Bo slowly pulls back out before slamming into you. You cry out, he starts thrusting roughly into your ass. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him just as rough as his pace. Biting his lip, he lets out groans of his own. He opens his mouth wider and you shove your tongue in, playing with his.

Bo groans and grips your waist feeling up and down your body. His hands rough and dry. He lets go and angles you up more. “Bo, Jesus fuck. Fuck!” You pant as yours and his mixed spit comes down your face. He hits your prostate over and over again causing your cock to twitch.

“You like that? Huh?” He teases, you nod. “Say it, say how much you love my cock in your ass.”

Your tongue falls out of your mouth and you roll your eyes up into your head. You bite your lip. “I love your cock on my ass Bo. It feels so good.”

Bo quickens his pace making a knot form in your stomach. It tightens and tightens as he pounds into your prostate.

“Gonna cum Bo. Fuck..”

Bo smirks and uses one of his hands to touch your cock, making you cum instantly. Your body twitches, cum spurts all over you and him. You let out a loud groan, thrusting your hips in the air.

Bo keeps going, moving you back so your whole body is on the bed. You’re sensitive and whine as he finishes in you.

Bo pulls out slowly and cum leaks out of your ass. He sits up and grabs your arm hauling you onto him.

You kiss up his chest and move his chin down with your thumb to kiss his lips.

When you two part you end up looking into his eyes. You smile lazily at him and begin to close your eyes.

“So happy to see you again.”

“I am too. Now we can complete that dream of yours.”

You nod your head, not even realizing what Bo exactly meant. But Bo knew. You, Bo, Vincent, and (sometimes) Lester, living in the middle of nowhere. Where no one has to know about your relationship.

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x oc #bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #house of wax

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