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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

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MOST WANTED (Toji x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

"I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me."

***IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: THIS WORK CONTAINS R*PE & NONCON SEXUAL ACTS. PLEASE READ THE TAGS.***

READ PART II HERE!

READ PART III HERE!

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Pairing: Mafia Boss!Toji x Spy!Self-Insert!Reader (Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You’re a highly skilled hitwoman. You’ve been doing this for years–getting paid to take hits on the wealthy and corrupt at your agency’s order. You figure taking a hit on the renowned Tokyo mafia boss Toji Fushigiro won’t be any different. However, things take a terrifying turn for you, and your skills are put to the test when you go undercover as a dancer at his favorite club and give him a private dance. But instead of killing you, Toji takes it upon himself to punish you and show you what happens when you fuck with him.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+; Porn with Plot; Physical Fighting; Gun Play; Knife Play; Noncon/R*pe; Forced Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Forced Orgasm; Lap Dancing/Pole Dancing; Doggystyle; Spit Play; Degradation + Praise; Rough Sex; Choking; Hair Pulling; Unprotected PIV Sex; Creampie; Some Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Here you go lovely!! @curiouscutie143 I hope you & everyone other toji lovers enjoy this. I had so much fun writing this & I tried to make it as nasty as I could lol. I may write another mafia!toji thing in the future just cuz this shit was soooo fun. Enjoy! -Jazz

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“Peaches, you’re needed in the backrooms.”

You resist the urge to smile as you turn around from your seat at the bar, sipping on some water after your dance and sweet-talking a middle-aged bank broker into his pockets. It’s important to keep up the facade.

“Comin’,” you tell your coworker and turn to the broker who looks ready to dive into your cleavage.

“Sorry, but I’ve gotta run,” you sigh, acting apologetic. He frowns at you, making the wrinkles and lines in his face more evident. “But this shouldn’t take too long. Find me afterward?”

The broker puts his hand on yours, accidentally using the hand his gold marriage band sits on. “You’ve got it, baby,” he purrs. “I’ve got some dollars just waitin’ on ya.”

He gives you a wink before polishing off his whiskey and walking away from the bar, leaving you to breathe and collect your thoughts. You turn to the bottle girl, waving her down. “One shot of Patron, please!” you yell above the music blaring from the overhead speakers. She nods, scurrying to fetch you a much-needed shot. It will be the first alcoholic drink you’ve had since your shift started.

You suddenly hear a buzz from your right ear and instantly put your hand up against it under your hair. “V,” a gruff voice says into your earpiece. “Come in, V. It’s been 20 minutes since we last talked. Did you get him yet?”

You scan the upscale strip club pulsing with purple and red strobe lights and booming with activity: businessmen and regular-degular customers tossing money at the dancers on stage who spin around poles and do splits in their thongs and heels.

“Target was sighted five minutes earlier, sir,” you whisper into the earpiece given to you by your agency. “He is currently in the backrooms waiting for me. He came alone. He made eye contact with me ten minutes ago, so he may be asking for me.”

More like you made eye contact with him and had been since he walked in. He is impossible to miss with how tall and buff he is. His black V-neck tee stuck to his pectorals and abs while his jeans hung low on his hips.

You had expected he’d be flashier with his wealth by wearing obvious designer clothing, but you figured that he had to keep a low profile as well. Beneath the V-neck that hung from his neck, you could see the tattoos that roped over his chest just like his arms. The healed scar at the corner of his smirk as his green eyes scanned the place over told you that this was, indeed, your target.

He stood between two bodyguards in suits half his size, giving off an intimidating aura, especially with the guns at their hips. But you’d expect nothing less from Toji Fushigiro, Tokyo’s most notorious mafia boss.

He is powerful. He is wealthy. He is known throughout Tokyo and Japan for being the head of Tokyo’s infamous mafia gang, the spot being passed down by his father. He is also a criminal. White-collar crime, organized crime, drug trafficking––you name it, Toji does it.

He is also known for his scare tactics on those who owe him a debt. He’s held man over bridges, threatening to drop them in the murky waters below. He’s pistol-whipped. He’s choked. He’s stomped. He’s jumped guys in alleyways and left them for dead. He is a man of his word. If he tells you he’ll fuck you up if you don’t give him his money in a certain amount of time, he’ll do it.

He is the number one man current on your hitlist…and your agency’s. They knew it was a good idea to employ you, their top hitwoman, to Toji’s favorite club to take him out for good. Though he didn’t show up when you started at the club a couple of weeks ago, you knew it was only a matter of time until he showed up.

And now, he is. As soon as he was in the club, everyone’s eyes were on him. Dancers scurried to the pole and backstage to change into their best outfits to milk him out of his pockets. Bartenders and bottle girls quickly wiped down counters and took care of customers as quickly as possible so they could tend to him. Your manager barreled toward him with complimentary champagne and a spot in the VIP section.

As Toji walked with your manager, your eyes met across the room. They met again while he sat in the VIP section when he should’ve been watching a dancer twirl around the pole in front of him. Both times were fleeting, but they affected you completely. His green eyes, like mirrors to a forest, sent chills down your spine and made your stomach flip. His gaze was intense. Intimate. His eyes made it hard to relax or act like a normal dancer working her shift at the club.

He seemed to know what he was doing to you or he was sizing you up because he would simply smirk and sip on his whiskey on the rocks and puff on his cigar, his soft lips forming Os and blowing the smoke into the strobe-lit air. You can understand why so many women fell for him, but you aren’t one of them. The tiny gun strapped to your hip proves it.

Your real boss sighs in relief. “Excellent work,” he praises. “Unfortunately, we can’t see what you’re doing from over at headquarters and we’re still working on connecting the audio to hear what’s happening around you, so just fill us in on what you do next until then. All you have to do now is walk back there and complete the mission as we discussed.”

You toss an arm over the bar, stretching your coffin-shaped nails along the polished bar. “Of course,” you reply with a smirk. “Don’t I always?”

The bartender returns with your shot and you down it at once, relishing the burn and the way it loosened you right up. “I’ll keep you informed,” you say. “Just stay near the phone.”

“Be careful,” your boss says before the line cuts. You check your makeup in the bar before you get up from the bar and strut over to your beautiful, blonde coworker in her red lingerie and heels. “Hey, Yuki,” you greet her.

She smiles at you and guides you to the backrooms where the wealthier customers usually take the girls to get a dance…or something more. Sexual exchanges aren’t allowed, but the manager never complains if they bring in more money. You and Yuki peer down the hallway to the double doors of a private room where Toji’s bodyguards stand.

“Why the guards?” you ask, pretending to be confused. “Is the President here or somethin’?” Yuki turns you to face her, her eyes wide. “Even bigger,” she replies. “He’s the hot guy with the scar who comes in here often. He’s a mafia boss, apparently. Super hot, but very powerful. The bossman gave him his pick of any girl he wanted and he picked you.”

You do your best to hide your smirk. You knew you had him. “Me?” you ask breathlessly. “Why me?” Yuki shrugs, just as clueless. “Don’t know, but I was sent out to fetch you. He’s willin’ to pay double the amount of a regular lapdance, but he didn’t say if he wanted it topless, naked or not.” She gives you a worried look, furrowing her blonde brows. “You sure you up for it, hon?” she asks. “I know you’ve taken high rollers before, but he ain’t even a high roller! He’s beyond that!”

To sell it even more, you bite your lip, acting nervous but intrigued. “I can do it,” you reply. “Just hold my hand when you walk me in there.” Yuki obliges and squeezes your hand as you begin to walk toward the guards, heels clicking across the floor.

“Target is in sight,” you whisper into your earpiece, turning away from Yuki and putting your mouth in your arm to muffle your voice. “I’m walkin’ to the backrooms now where he’s located.”

“Excellent, V!” your boss says. “Just do it as we discussed. Don’t falter, don’t yield, and don’t lose focus.” The three rules of being a spy. You never forgot them. Finally, you come to the guards and Yuki smiles up at them. “I’m here with Peaches,” Yuki announces. “The girl Mr. Fushigiro asked for.”

You plaster a bright, charming smile on your face. It must work because the guards budge and step out of the way for you. One of them opens the door for you and Yuki, holding it. “Step in,” he orders. You thank him and scurry inside the dimly lit room with an included mini-bar, a single stripper pole, and leather lounging couches. Toji currently sits in one of them, legs spread and eyes hooded as he puffs on a blunt and sips on his drink.

His green eyes pierce into your very soul when he eyes you in the doorway. “Here she is, sir,” Yuki says. “Just as you requested. And she’s just as pretty as I told you she is.” She moves your hair out of your face, exposing your pretty false flashes, Fenty Beauty gloss, and accentuated features to the boss.

Toji hums, liking what he sees. “Yes, she is,” he agrees. “Tell your boss thanks. He can expect some good business out of me once the night is through.” Yuki nods and gives your arm a squeeze. “Good luck,” she whispers before heading off. The doors close and you are left alone with your hit.

Neither one of you moves toward the other, staying posted to your spots. Toji takes a puff on his blunt and lights taps it above the ashtray next to him. “Y’know, you’re mighty pretty up close,” he purrs. “I’ve been wonderin’ what you’d look like up close instead of across the room.”

You finally look at him, noticing how big he is even sitting down. “So you’ve been watchin’ me tonight?” you ask. He nods, his eyes trailing down your form. “I knew I hadn’t seen ya before,” he continues. “I come here often and I would’ve remembered seein’ a face and a rack like that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Charmer, aren’t you?” you sarcastically question.

He smirks at your wittiness. He likes that bite in a woman. “When I wanna be, but you’ll have to forgive me; the liquor makes me bolder than I already am.” His tongue jets out to lick his lips. “But you’ve gotta give a guy credit for bein’ honest and that lil’ outfit don’t leave much to the imagination.”

You go to wrap your arms around yourself but then stop. You need to sell this and if you’re forced to stand here in a mini dress that barely covers your ass or titties with heels that could crush a bitch in front of your hit who also happens with me enticingly sexy, then so be it. Toji’s gaze softens somewhat, noticing your discomfort. “You are very beautiful, Peaches,” he genuinely says. “Is it okay if I use your name?”

“Thank you, Mr. Fushigiro,” you softly reply. “And no, it’s fine. It’s what I’m known as around here anyway. I started here five weeks ago.” He nods, sipping on his whiskey. “Call me Toji.”

“Toji,” you parrot, slowly striding towards the pole in the middle of the room, an overhead speaker playing soft R&B overhead. “You’re quite the man. The entire club seems to be in a frenzy over you.”

His smirk widens, proud and cocky. “They always are,” he chuckles. “Don’t know why. This place gets plenty of people bigger than me all the time, especially international celebs. I heard Drake was here not too long ago.” You give a dry “mm-hmm” as you grasp the pole. Toji takes that answer another way. “What, you don’t like Drake?” he snorts.

“He’s okay,” you reply, short and impatient. “So what are you here for? To talk or to watch me dance?” You wrap a hand around the pole and pop your hip out, waiting for him to give you an order.

“Depends.” He sits up, leaning forward to get a better look at you. “What are you willin’ to do tonight for me? ‘Cause we can just sit here and talk. I wouldn’t mind hearin’ that pretty voice all night.” His green eyes gleam with mirth and a small hint of lust.

“Definitely a charmer,” you chuckle. “That’s fine if you’re willin’ to pay, though we don’t have a rate for conversation.”

He laughs at this, the sound deep and raspy yet pleasant to the ear. He takes another puff on his blunt before he lowers it down onto the ashtray. “Then let’s cut to the chase,” he sniggers. “It’s $500 for a 10-minute dance, right? I want 20 minutes, so that would make…”

He begins to count on his fingers but then stops. “A lot,” he chuckles. “I’ll probably ask for you to strip though. Are you okay with that, Peaches?”

You feel something flip inside of you at the mention of all of that money and how passive he is about it. Any girl working here would do whatever he wanted for 20 minutes! “I’m a stripper,” you reply passively. “What else am I gonna do?”

Toji tsks, grimacing at you. “Damn, what kinda attitude is that?” he laughs. “A beauty like you should be more adamant about showin’ off her body. Can I offer you a drink to get you in the mood?” He nods at the mini bar overflowing with bottles of tequila, vodka, and liquor.

“I don’t drink on the job,” you reply. “Music helps.” You suddenly hear a buzz in your ear and then your boss’ gruff voice: “Give me the rundown, V,” he demands.

You want another drink?” you ask. You nod at Toji’s empty glass and he agrees, so you walk over to the bar. To him, you’re seemingly looking for a bottle of whiskey, bent down to look through the racks. “With the target now,” you whisper. “Just waiting for the right time to attack. Give me a second.”

Once the line goes dead, you walk back over to Toji and pour him a bottle. As you bend down, you give him an ample view of your titties much to his enjoyment. As you do, you slip the gun out of your dress and place it under the couch where only you can find it. Once done, you leave the bottle with him, and step back, hands on your hips. He sits back against the couch, preparing for the show. “Whenever you’re ready, darlin’,” he purrs, his eyes filled with obvious lust and attraction.

With a slow song playing above and the lights dipping into an almost ominous red shade, you begin to move to the beat. You roll your hips, swaying them side to side and front to back, almost as if you’re grinding on Toji despite him being several feet away from you. You let the music take control of you as you grasp the pole and begin to grind against it, dipping low to wind your ass in his face.

You do a few tricks on the pole for him–jumping and spinning around it, your thighs wrapped tight around the metal pole; squatting and lifting up your dress to bounce your ass, etc.–before you turn to look at him over your shoulder, flipping your hair. Toji’s eyes are hooded and lustful, all from the weed, the whiskey, and the effect you’re having on him. Despite the situation, it feels good to have an attractive man ogle at your plump frame.

“Take off the dress,” he demands, a slight growl in his voice. You don’t turn to face him, instead still facing the wall as you carefully unzip the back of your dress. The thin piece of clothing falls off of your body, revealing all of your rolls, curves, and the matching glittery bra and thong set.

“Shit!” Toji hisses, ogling at your asscheeks in your glittery thong. “Your back don’t hurt carryin’ that around?”

You finally turn around and find him leaning forward, his hands clenching his thighs. “You don’t look like you’re ready,” you giggle, winding your hips and toying with your titties in their cups. “Did you talk too much big game, Toji?”

The boss looks like he can’t even speak, his scarred lips parted as he stares you down. “Goddamn,” he hisses. “How some horny fuck didn’t propose to you and steal you out of here yet is beyond me.”

You give a light, tittering laugh, smiling down at him. “Well, if someone did that, I wouldn’t be here with you.” He looks happy with that response. You then twist around and bend over for him, giving him a full view of your full, round, perfect ass. “Can you handle it, baby?” you purr. “Can you handle me?”

You quickly pop up and turn around, finding him shifting in his seat and gritting his jaw. “I should be askin’ you that,” he growls. “Come the fuck here.” Deciding not to tease him any longer, you strut over to him, feeling sexy and irresistible. It’s strange that the same man you were sent to kill is doing this to you.

His eyes have grown several shades darker, reminding you of the deepest, darkest parts of a jungle. “Dance for me,” he demands. “Not on the pole; on me.” He opens his legs wider for you and pats his lap, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Though clients often get handsy when dancers give them lapdances here, you decide that it’s best to do as he says.

Plus, you’d be lying if you said that you aren’t curious to feel him for yourself. So you place your hands on his thick, muscular highs and begin to roll your body before squatting down, popping up between his legs. You reach up to drag your palms and long nails down his chest, feeling up his abs and toned stomach. He allows it, staring down at you with a look that would make a nun blush.

You then stand up between his legs before turning around and lowering yourself down into his lap. “Shit,” he whispers, watching the way you work your ass along his lap and the jean-clad bulge that has begun to make an appearance. You twerk and bounce on top of him before he takes a drag of his blunt, blowing the air away from you. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks, his lips close to your ear now.

Your body grows hot from him being so close, the attraction ironically magnetic. Slowly, you shake your head and Toji chuckles, adoring your mix of cute and sexy. “C’mere.” You lean back and tilt your head up while he takes another puff of his blunt. He holds the marijuana smoke before puckering his lips up and leaning down as if to kiss you. Slowly, the smoke travels from his lips to yours in an indirect kiss that leaves you breathless and your head dizzy.

You can’t deny it: you’re wet. Your pussy has never been this wet for any man before…and he’s the enemy! Toji seems to feel it too judging by the hard-on you can feel pressing into your thigh. You shift onto his knee and begin grinding your ass back, doing your best to not grind your pussy against his thigh.

“So you got a name other than that stripper shit?” he randomly asks you. You are immediately taken out of your lustful haze, remembering why you’re here. “I don’t remember us talkin’ about personal shit,” you dryly reply. “I don’t give my real name out to men I don’t know.”

Then, for the first time tonight, Toji touches you. His big hand lowers onto your thigh and squeezes. You don’t try to move it but you are alarmed. “Oh, but you do know me, darlin’,” he replies, digging his fingers into your flesh. “And I know you, V.”

At the mention of your real name, you freeze. The world freezes with you, everything seeming to cease their existence including the music that continues to play overhead. But you don’t hear it. All you can hear is your own blood pumping loudly in your eardrums. Toji releases you and you quickly jump off of him, turning toward him.

He just sits there staring at you, a humorous smirk playing on his lips. The smile is no longer attractive to you anymore. Suddenly, you feel disoriented. You feel like you may vomit or drop to the floor in your heels. Your earpiece buzzes to life again in your ear. “V!” your boss calls. “We just got the audio working again. What’s happening?” He sounds panicked, just as much as you are.

Toji bares his pearly whites at you as he calmly reaches for his whiskey. “Ah, now them wheels are turnin’ in that pretty little head,” he chuckles. “You know, you dance almost as good as you lie. I can see why you were put here to go undercover.” He takes a sip and licks the remnants away from his top lip, still staring you down.

“Ain’t that right?” he asks and it feels like a snake has just silvered up your back and sunk its teeth in you, paralyzing you.

“Y/N, he knows!” your boss hisses. “Stand down! Don’t do anything stupid!” He continues to yell and scream at you about aborting the mission and telling you that someone will be there soon, but you can’t quite hear him. It’s like you’re underwater and he’s standing above ground, his voice muffled and murky.

For a few seconds that seem like a lifetime, you and Toji stare each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Your body kicks into fight or flight, the freeze stage having already been awakened. Inisctively, you shift into fight mode. Quickly, you take the bottle of whiskey and bring it down towards Toji’s head, but he catches your wrist like it’s nothing.

You grunt, wincing at the pain of his grip. “Oh, you wanna play, huh?” he cackles. “Goin’ against your boss’ little rules just to take me out? How cute.”

With a wail of effort, you swing your other hand at his head but he catches that too. Counting on this, you bring your leg up and kick him hard in the groin. He immediately releases you and lurches forward, holding his junk, giving you a chance to grab your gun from under the couch.

“Don’t move,” you growl, cocking the gun at him. “You move and I’ll shoot.”

Toji, red in the face and panting, glares up at you. “Please,” he scoffs. “You act like you’re the first bitch that’s put a gun to my head.” Before you can blink, he is swinging the bottle at you. You duck which is a mistake because Toji uses that opening to tackle you to the ground. You struggle and growl, turning into an animal as he wrestles with you for your gun.

He ends up winning, flipping you over and pinning you down to the floor with his body. “Get off!” you scream, still wriggling around. “Get off me!” Click. The barrel of your gun presses to your temple. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll make you regret it,” he growls.

His fingers move your hair back away from your ear and pry the earpiece out of your ear. He snarls at it as if it’s nothing but a bug. “God, they made these things so much smaller now.” He stands up, keeping the gun on you, and stomps on the earpiece, breaking it. “Whoops!” he mockingly says. “They should still be able to find ya though. I don’t plan on movin’ ya to another location…if you don’t piss me off.”

The gun clicks again. “Turn around slowly,” he demands. Despite your reluctance to do so, you slowly turn around and face him, lying on your back with your own shit pointed at you as Toji stands above you. “How did you know?” you whisper.

He smirks, appearing like the Devil in your eyes. “It wasn’t hard, darlin’,” he chuckles. “Dancers don’t eye me up the way you were. You looked like you were out for blood, not dollars. Not to mention the gun I saw at your hip.” You flush, cursing yourself. You should’ve been smarter. Of course, he would know. He spends his days having people hunt him down.

His smirk fades, his expression darkening. “Who sent you?” he demands. “And don’t lie. You don’t wanna know what I do with liars.” The gun cocks, his finger trained on the trigger. You glare at him, hating his guts even more than you had before you met him. So you weakly confess. He guffaws, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn, those guys? They’ve been after me for years!”

“You’re a criminal,” you hiss despite the gun in your face. “You only got this far because of you dippin’ your hands in crime and gettin’ blood on your fists. I’m here to stop you.”

Toji’s brows raise in shock though he’s intrigued by your stubbornness. He squats down in front of you, still pointing the gun at your head. “And how are you gonna do that, huh, little girl?” he asks.

Not even thinking, you hollow your lips and wallop a glob of spit in Toji’s handsome face before quickly turning over and scrambling to the door. However, Toji is just as fast and has his big, tatted arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You can’t elbow him anywhere because your arms are stuck in his, leaving you to kick and wriggle.

“Oooh, I love a feisty bitch,” he chuckles. “Makes it a lot more fun to break ‘em.”

He begins to walk with you over to a nearby wall and slams you against it, knocking the air out of your lungs. You find yourself pressed against the wall and him who is equally as hard and unmoving as the solid wall against your front.

He shoves the side of your face into the wall while he pins your arms behind your back, causing your muscles to explode with pain at being stretched back too far. “Get off!” you cry. “O-Ow, that hurts!”

Toji tugs on your arms again, emitting a weak whine of pain from you. “That’s what you get for fuckin’ with me,” he growls. “Now what should I do with you? Kill you? Leave your agency to find you here?” The gun once again presses against your temple, cold and unrelenting.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears pushing back the ducks. You can’t beat this. You can’t fight this. “Do it,” you sob. “Just do it!” You go limp against him, waiting to feel that bullet penetrating your skull and for the void to come to collect you…but instead, Toji takes the gun away from you, leaving an indent on your temple. “No,” he says. “I’ve got a better idea.”

You open your eyes, confused but also scared. What else is he planning to do with you? Before you can answer, you hear the undeniable sounds of his zipper coming down and the clinking of his metal belt buckle. Your body instant seizes, fear flooding your insides.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember tonight and what happens when you fuck with a guy like me. Tonight, babydoll, you’re mine. You don’t have a choice. You’re mine and I’m gonna show you what that means.”

With his belt finally in his hands, he trains the gun on you. “Put your hands against the wall and stick that ass out,” he demands, his voice void of all emotion. “Do it now.” Outnumbered and out of tricks, you do as he says, trembling as you do so.

“Bad girls like you need to be punished,” he says before the belt comes down hard onto your right asscheek. WHACK! The sharp sound of the leather hitting the soft, jiggly flesh of your ass penetrates the air. It feels like fire has licked your skin and your knees buckle at the pain. “Ow!” you cry out.

Toji cackles at your agony, finding enjoyment and cuteness in it. “What, that hurt?” he laughs. “You don’t like the pain? I’m sure a girl like you has taken plenty of worse things before.” He raises his arm and whips the same cheek twice.

WHACK! WHACK! You flinch at each sharp hit, each one becoming more painful than the last. “Hurts, don’t it?” he snickers. “Don’t you regret pullin’ that shit with me now, babydoll, hm?”

He then proceeds to whip your left cheek, not allowing you any time to recover or breathe.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! You bite your lip so hard that you nearly draw blood, the burning of your backside too much to bear. “S-Stop!” you whine. “Please stop!”

Toji’s big hands wrap around your mouth, covering it. “Don’t speak,” he whispers into your ear, his breath the scent of whiskey and mint. “You don’t get to speak. Just take it.” You have no choice but to do so as he wails on your ass again and again, the leather cracking like fire against your jiggly ass. “God, that recoil,” he groans. “I’m gonna enjoy my time with you, baby doll.”

You don’t answer, too busy holding back tears that have begun to push at your eye sockets. Toji finally stops and tosses his head back to laugh. “Are you cryin’?” he laughs in disbelief. “Damn, and all from some spankings? And here I thought you were this tough bitch.”

You burn with resentment and humiliation, but all of that is pushed aside when he forces you to stand up straight and tugs your arms behind your back. You begin to panic but don’t say anything as he tightens his belt around your wrists and locks the belt buckle around them. “Turn around,” he finally says.

Despite your tiny sobs, you do so and face him. His eyes are hooded and dark with obvious lust for you. He uses one big hand to force you onto your knees, right in front of his open fly and hard cock that you can see pressing against his designer briefs. “I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about,” he growls. He points the gun at your face, specifically at your lips. “Open your mouth and suck on it.”

His expression, dark and chilling you to the bone, makes you feel as if you don’t have a choice..and not the loaded gun pressing to your lips. Swallowing hard, you shakily open your mouth and he slides the pistol in. The metal feels cold and hard in your mouth, making you cringe. “That’s it,” Toji chuckles. “Take that shit, baby. C’mon, don’t you wanna please me?”

Slowly, you begin to suck, hollowing your lips out against the gun. Though you tremble and shake, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to imagine the gun as a hard, warm, throbbing cock instead. Toji moans as if you’re sucking on him, watching your tongue swirl along the barrel and your head bob.

“Fuck, baby doll,” he groans. “You’ve got such a mouth on ya.” He slides it in further, the metal scraping against your teeth, until he reaches your throat. You gag and try to pull away, but Toji grips the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, mama,” he snickers. “You don’t get to get outta this. C’mon, just open your throat and breathe through your nose. You can do it.” He continues to push and pull, the gun sliding in and out of your mouth, while you struggle to breathe. You can feel sweat pool under your pits and between your cleavage all from your fear. Toji’s finger isn’t on the trigger anymore, but it doesn’t matter. He could change that in a second.

So you suck and you slurp and you bob your head up and down like a good little slut, staring him into his eyes while spit drips from your lips. Finally satisfied, Toji pulls the gun out of your lips now coated in your saliva. “You fuckin’ slut,” he pants. “Now I need to try ya out for myself.”

He pockets the gun and, with one hand, pulls down his briefs. His big, long, throbbing, veiny, perfect-looking dick springs to life. It damn near hits you in the face, making you gasp. “Sorry, mama,” he chuckles. “He just likes you.”

He wraps a hand around his 12-inch dick, pumping it lewdly in your face. “So you finna stare at it or suck it?” he deadpans, but he doesn’t wait for you to answer or recover.

“W-Wait,” you stammer.

That’s all you get to say before his cock is pushing between your lips and into your mouth. He releases a moan when he first slides into your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your wet mouth, soft lips, and tongue wrapping around him. Meanwhile, you’re struggling to take him. His girthy dick stretches out your jaw and your throat as he pushes himself in deep.

“C’mon, babydoll,” he chuckles. “That can’t be all you can take of me.” He continues to push, filling your tongue and nostrils with the scent and taste of him. The walls of your throat have no choice but to accommodate his size though it burns and you gag as he begins to slowly yet roughly thrust into your mouth. “Maybe this will help ya out,” he says. Suddenly, he retrieves a pocket knife from his pocket and flicks it open.

Fear flares into your stomach, making you want to jump away, but his large hand keeps you locked down on his cock. He presses the knife to your throat, chuckling as he does. “Careful now,” he warns. “You lean too close and that pretty neck might get sliced. I just wanna encourage you to do a good job.” He grips your hair and wrenches it up to look at him. “And you will do a good job for me, won’t you?” he asks.

His tone makes it so you can’t refuse, so you say yes and allow him to force your head back down onto his cock before pulling it back. He does that for a while––pushing and pulling your head down onto his dick like you’re his toy while he uses your sloppy, wet mouth like it’s a fleshlight. “Fuck!” he shouts to the ceiling. “This fuckin’ mouth is heaven, baby. I hope your pussy is just as tight as your tight ass throat.”

You gargle and mumble on his cock, causing pleasurable vibrations to travel throughout his body and his heavy balls that drip with your saliva. He continues to fuck your face and ruin your makeup, marveling at how beautiful you look choking on his cock. “Look at you, you little slut,” he dreamily sighs. “Makeup all fucked up. Hair ruined. You’re just a little mess for me, aren’t ya?”

He slides his cock out of your throat and you take a grateful gulp of air, strands of your hair stuck to your wet lips and chin. He takes the knife and slides it along your chin, smirking down at you. “Now it’s my turn to taste you,” he murmurs. Before you can protest, he is picking you up, tossing you over his shoulder, and placing you on your stomach with your arms still tied behind you.

“Please!” you sob, beginning to cry again. Toji straddles your ass, one hand massaging the globes of fat in your thong while the other holds his knife. “Please what, baby?” he mockingly coos. “I ain’t even touch you yet.” You then feel the cool metal of the knife dragging up your spine, sending shivers down your spine. “Time to get your sexy ass out of these fuckin’ clothes,” he growls.

You flinch when you feel the knife drag up to your left shoulder where it cuts the bra strap. He does the same to your left one before positioning you onto your knees with your wrists slung over the couch arm. Your tits are now exposed, hanging like ripe, juicy fruit beneath you. Then off comes your thong with two swipes of the knife cutting through the thin straps. You sob helplessly as the cool air touches your sodden, wet pussy.

“Damn, baby!” Toji cackles. “Are you wet from all this? You naughty little girl.” His middle and forefingers gently probe your entrance and slide up and down your slit, dragging unwanted moans out of you. “I’m gonna have some fun with you,” he chuckles. “Make sure you never forget about me.”

He then bends you over the couch and proceeds to put his hot, wet, experienced mouth on your pussy while the knife stays pressed against your thigh. You whine at the feeling of his soft lips and tongue swirling along your clit and every sensitive part of you, opening your pussy up to more of him. He drowns in your pussy, pushing his face into it as far as he can and letting his tongue do all of the talking.

You can’t stop the moans and gasps that escape you. The pleasure is just too much and too good! What a shame that a man who is so good at eating kitty is the same man you were sent here to kill. “Toji,” you moan, using his name for the first time ever. “Please…please!”

Toji’s one hand massages and smacks your ass, becoming aoslutely obessed with it. “What do you need, babydoll?” he coos against your clit. “You need somethin’?” You nod helplessly though you have no clue what you need at this point. “Tell me you’re mine then,” he growls. “Say it and fuckin’ mean it. Say you’re my good little slut.”

You keep your lips clamped tight, not wanting to swallow your pride or give up that tiny part of you that hates him still. SPANK! Your ass stings from his assault on your ass, his hand no doubt leaving a handprint. “Say it!” he bellows.

At the blinding pain, pleasure, and delirium, you break. “I’m yours!” you sob. “I’m your good girl! Your good little slut! I’m everything you want me to be!”

Toji, pleased, presses soothing kisses to your burning asscheek. “Good girl,” he praises. “See how easy that was? Now you get your reward.” Suddenly, you feel his thick cock smack against your pussy once, twice, three times and then he is sliding home inside of you.

Your mouth goes slack and your eyes grow wide as he begins to rocks his hips into, allowing you to get used to him. He is big. You can feel him stretching out every part of your cunt as he sinks deeper into your velvety, wet walls. “Fuck,” he sighs, one hand clutching your hip. “Not bad, babydoll. Your pussy is definitely the best one I’ve fucked…so far.”

He begins to fuck you harder, faster, railing you as if this will be his last time doing so. Your moans and huffs of breath become louder and more intense the harder and deeper his cock plunges inside of you. “W-Wait!” you gasp. “Slow down! I can’t…can’t!”

Toji chuckles, watching your ass bounce against his pelvis as he fucks you. “Sorry, honey,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help it. You just sound so cute.”

Your thighs clench and your body writhes as he rails you, unable to take this deep dicking into the couch. You try to move away but the knife suddenly sliding against your throat stops you. “Uh-uh, babydoll,” he growls. “Don’t run from me. I wouldn’t try it if I were you.” He then pops his knee up, his foot up on the couch, and reaches a part inside of you that makes you feel unimaginable pleasure.

“Just take me like a good girl, okay?” he whispers. “You can do that for me if you wanna live.” You don’t have a choice in the matter, mostly because of the hold he has on your arms, pulling you back as drives himself forward again and again. The sound of your moans, his grunts, and the lewd plap, plap, plap as his balls swing against your overly-sensitive clit and his hips slam into your ass fill the air, drowned out by the music playing outside.

“Who would’ve thought,” Toji pants into your ear. “C.O.D.E.’s good little spy gettin’ her brains fucked out on a mission, huh? I bet they’d love to see this.” His free hand releases your arms and yanks on a handful of your hair. “I bet they’d love to see you full of me,” he growls. “Full of this dick and my cum.”

He presses the knife deeper into your throat, just enough for you to feel the sharp, jagged edge of the blade. “You wanna cum for me, baby?” he asks. “You gonna be a good slut and take all my cum too?”

“Please!” you whimper, losing your mind and all of your pride. “Please just make me cum! I’ll do whatever you want, Toji!” He takes the knife from your throat and replaces it with his hand, choking you as he fucks you stupid. “Then do it,” he demands. “Fuckin’ cum on this cock while I fill you up. Cum with me now!”

“Ah, ah, fuck, I-I’m gonna cum!” you deliriously sob as he continues to pound into you. “I’m gonna…gonna–!”

You don’t get a chance to finish because your pussy has finally reached its limit and explodes all over him, your walls squeezing around him and your clit shuddering. You reaching your peak triggers Toji and he grips your throat and ass as he comes to a still, his entire body tensing. “Fuck!” he bellows, cumming deep, deep, deep inside of you.

You gasp as you feel a rush of warm liquid flood into your pussy while you gush all over his cock, dripping down his balls. He fills you to the brim, giving you so much that it has no choice but to trickle down your thighs. He doesn’t immediately pull out though––he continues to fuck you, albeit slowly and sloppily, before giving your tit one feeble squeeze and finally pulling out of you.

You weakly moan at the feeling of being empty yet used, your pussy twitching and aching. “Mmm, now look at that,” he sighs dreamily, staring at your cum-soaked cunt. “Now that’s a properly fucked pussy if I do say so myself.” He takes a handful of your chin, squeezing your cheeks together, and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Not bad, babydoll.”

You don’t respond, too weak and too tired to do so. You’re too tired to even feel any amount of disgust for him and shame in yourself for failing the mission and enjoying the sex. “Let’s get this off of you,” Toji says, his hands unbuckling the belt from your wrists. “I’m gon’ need it for myself, anyway.” He releases your wrists and lets you lay on the couch, panting and coated in sweat.

Your makeup and hair are ruined. Your underwear is in tatters. You feel used and fucked-out. You can only stare at Toji as he quickly gets dressed and straightens out his clothes, his cock still covered in you. “I’m sorry, baby, but I’ve gotta go before your people get here.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “But gimme a call since I’m sure you can find that out. Maybe we can do this again.”

He then moves to the extra bathroom behind the couch and retrieves a robe which he covers you with. “See?” he chuckles. “I ain’t that big of an asshole.” He presses a kiss to your lips before bending down to pick up your thong. “Thanks for this,” he says, dangling it in front of you. “And the dance. I’ll cherish both forever.”

You don’t say anything, even as you watch him leave, taking your thong and your dignity with you.

Then you are alone. At some point, you find the strength to stand up and wobble to the bathroom where you take a hot shower, washing the scent of sex and cum off of you. When you return, dressed in your robe, the door busts in, and your boss and fellow spies enter the room, guns drawn and masks on their faces.

“V!” your boss shouts, instantly dropping his weapon and running to you. His eyes widen at your state, looking for any bruises or scars. There are none…that are physical, anyway. “V, what happened?” he asks.

And as the events of tonight come flooding back to you at full speed, you muster up the most believable lie you can, clutching your robe closed:

“He overpowered me.”

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #black writers #my fic shit #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x black reader #toxic relationship #toji x self insert

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toothpaste-for-the-skin · 3 days ago

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Oh no it’s Agent 8

Art Fight ref for Astra!! She got redesigned a good bit since last year so she definitely needed it

Astra’s always been a strange character for me bc even I can’t really get a full picture of her. She’s meant to be kind of odd and a bit unknowable despite how “normal” she appears

Her design has weirdly a lot going on so I had to make another extra sheet to explain other things more. Also yeah my idea for Agent 8’s “hero headgear” is a customer service/dispatcher headset. I call it the “Hero Earpiece”, idk

#I still honestly struggle to draw her #splatoon #splatoon oc #splatoon 3 #agent 8 #art fight #character ref #character reference #my art

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hannie-bees · 1 month ago

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𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔄𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔣 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔰𝔢 3 || c.sc || y.jh

NOW PLAYING: » [Art of Chase] «PLAYLIST»

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III: The Final Play

Warnings: Violence, emotional manipulation, betrayal, heartbreak, identity deception, mentions of firearms(guns). WC: 3151

[11:49 pm, Rooftop of Daumier Museum of Fine Arts, Geneva]

[Running away after stealing the egg]

The night air was sharp as it rushed past your face, city lights smearing below like a sea of blinking stars. Rooftop to rooftop – that was the only way out. The heist had gone smoothly, the Royal Danish Fabergé egg now tucked safely in Jeonghan’s custom-designed vault pack. The problem? Choi Seungcheol had almost caught you. Again.

You hadn't seen him when you slipped through the hallway near the private gallery – hadn’t accounted for how fast he’d trace your footsteps. But he’d appeared in the reflection of a mirrored column just seconds before you turned the corner, and the sudden flash of recognition in his eyes had your stomach plummeting.

You ran. Not because you were afraid – but because you weren’t ready for the way he looked at you. That wasn’t a cop's gaze. That was personal.

He’d nearly caught you at the stairs, brushing close enough for you to hear your name fall from his lips, laced with disbelief and something dangerously close to… hope.

But now you were on the roof, the final stretch.

“We’re clear,” Jeonghan called through your earpiece, breathless. “I’ve got the gear on the adjacent building.”

You took a deep breath and backed up, heels discarded somewhere near the service exit. “One jump,” you told yourself. “Just one.”

You leapt – soared – the space between buildings vanishing under you, your heart catching in your throat. You landed in a roll, sharp pain blooming in your shoulder as you tucked and skidded across gravel. Then hands – Jeonghan’s hands – caught you, steadied you, pulled you behind the ventilation unit.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low, eyes darting past you toward the opposite roof.

“I’m fine,” you lied, panting. “Let's go.”

By the time Seungcheol reached the rooftop, you were already shadows in the night

---

[12:34 am, Geneva safehouse]

You didn’t speak until you were back in the safehouse – a modest high-rise studio disguised as an interior design office. The egg sat on the table, shimmering with pale enamel and diamond accents, a relic from another era.

You leaned against the window, watching the city breathe, while Jeonghan stood across from you, silent.

“What?” you asked when you noticed his stare.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he walked over, gaze fixed on you like he was searching for something.

“I just… didn’t like the way he looked at you,” Jeonghan finally muttered.

You blinked. “Who?”

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head as if the question itself was ridiculous. “You know who.”

“Seungcheol?”

Jeonghan turned away like the name burned.

“It’s not like that,” you said softly.

He laughed under his breath, something brittle in it. “Isn’t it?”

You walked up behind him. “Jeonghan, it’s a job. You know that. You’re the one who always says–”

“I know what I say,” he cut in. “But that doesn’t mean I like it.”

Silence stretched between you.

He turned to face you, something guarded and unspoken behind his eyes.

“You’re never going to see what’s right in front of you, are you?” he said, voice barely more than a whisper.

You froze.

“Jeonghan–”

But he was already stepping back, shaking his head.

“Forget it.”

He reached for his jacket, brushing past you without another word, and walked out the door.

You stood there, stunned, surrounded by the glittering remnants of your victory. The Fabergé egg. The empty glass from your adrenaline high. And the echo of something you weren’t sure you wanted to name

---

[1:53 am, Geneva Safehouse]

The city outside had long fallen quiet, but your mind hadn’t.

Jeonghan had been gone for over an hour now. You hadn’t moved from the window – not out of worry, but because the stillness felt safer than whatever was coming next.

The door creaked open.

He stepped inside with barely a sound, rain misting his hair, his jacket half-unzipped. He didn’t look at you – just dropped his bag on the floor and moved to the small kitchenette like everything was normal.

You didn’t speak.

But the air crackled, tension thick like the storm outside.

When he finally turned, his eyes met yours for a second too long. Not accusing. Not cold. Just... exhausted.

“I didn’t think you’d come back tonight,” you said, voice low.

“I almost didn’t,” he muttered, opening the fridge only to close it again without grabbing anything.

Silence stretched.

“Are you going to keep pretending nothing happened?” you asked.

He looked at you then. Really looked. “Do you even know what did happen?”

You stepped forward cautiously. “You walked out.”

He gave a small, humorless laugh. “No. I gave up.”

The words hit harder than you expected. “Gave up on what?”

“On pretending,” he said, turning away again. “On hoping you’d look at me the way you looked at him.”

Your breath caught. “Jeonghan…”

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said immediately, hands braced on the edge of the counter like he needed it to stay grounded. “Forget it.”

“No.” You crossed the room before he could leave again. “Don’t do that. Don’t run just because things get uncomfortable.”

He didn’t answer.

So you kept going, softer now. “I don’t look at Seungcheol the way you think I do.”

He finally turned toward you, eyes searching. “And how do you look at me?”

The question stopped you cold.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “You’re– You’ve always been–”

He smiled, but it was a sad kind of smile. “Exactly.”

“No,” you said, suddenly frustrated with yourself. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to walk out, then come back and twist my words.”

“I’m not twisting anything,” he said, voice tight. “I’m just… tired of being the one who always waits. Always watches. Always wonders if maybe this time, you’ll see me.”

Silence.

Then, slowly – carefully – you stepped closer.

Your hands hovered at his sleeves. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want to lose you,” he said, barely audible. “And because part of me knew... if I waited long enough, maybe you’d feel the same.”

You swallowed. “And if I don’t?”

He looked at you for a long moment. “Then I’ll still protect you. Still follow you. Because I don’t know how to stop.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his sleeves, grounding yourself.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, heart breaking a little at the weight behind his words.

He leaned in just slightly, forehead nearly brushing yours.

“I don’t need you to say it back,” he murmured. “I just need you to stop pretending you don’t know.”

---

[Next day, 10:46 pm, Geneva safehouse]

The studio was quiet. Too quiet.

You leaned against the cool glass of the window, watching the streets of Geneva blur beneath the soft drizzle. The Fabergé egg sat safely tucked in its lockbox now, ready for extraction. Jeonghan had disappeared to the back room after patching your shoulder up, his silence more deafening than anything.

[Two days earlier]

“She used the name Ellen. Tracked her through an old customs registry from Prague.”

Seungcheol’s contact had sent him a voice note, muffled and clipped.

“She said she was an artist. Ellen Voss. Low profile. I bought it at first. Until I saw her name on that damn surveillance footage.”

That’s how he found the thread. The fake identity you gave him during those long-gone months when the line between playacting and affection blurred. You hadn’t expected him to find you again. Not after all this time.

The front door creaked open.

Jeonghan stepped back inside, rain still clinging to the collar of his coat. His gaze was stormy, lips tight. He looked like someone who’d just gotten an answer he didn’t want.

“We’ve got maybe thirty minutes,” he said flatly, tossing his soaked gloves onto the counter. “He’s coming in quiet. Probably doesn’t want a scene.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Seungcheol knows,” he muttered. “He’s on his way. Pack fast. I've called the chopper.”

You turned to grab the emergency bag by the door, heart racing. “How?”

“I overheard a transmission. He’s got your alias. Ellen Voss, right?”

You stilled.

“It was just for cover,” you said, pulling your bag open. “Nothing serious.”

“Right. Just cover,” Jeonghan echoed, stuffing supplies into his own pack. “Funny how fast a name like that leads someone straight to our doorstep.”

“I didn’t think he’d still be looking.”

“That’s not what’s bothering me,” he snapped, zipping his jacket. “You froze when I mentioned him after the heist. And he didn’t look at you like you were just some thief. That wasn’t business. That was personal.”

Your breath caught. You kept moving, rolling up maps, tucking gear into the side pocket.

“I didn’t betray you,” you said.

“No?” he challenged, checking the pistol at his side. “Then tell me the truth. All of it.”

“I met him when you were gone. During those two and a half years. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. I never gave him my real name. We just talked, that’s all.”

“That's all?” he repeated.

You didn’t answer.

He stared at you, then threw his bag onto the table, waiting for you to speak. “I didn’t think it would matter.”

“Well, it does.”

You crossed to the kitchen to grab the burner phones. “I didn’t want to lie to you. I just… didn’t know how to explain it.”

He paused mid-step, eyes locking with yours. “Did you love him?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Seungcheol,” he clarified. “Did you?”

You opened your mouth. No sound came out.

And in that silence, he exhaled – defeated. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just jealous. Maybe I just want it to be more than it ever was.”

Your voice cracked. “You’re not wrong.”

He looked up.

“I didn’t tell you because I was scared,” you said, stepping closer. “Scared it would change things. That it would make you look at me differently.”

“I already do,” he whispered.

You were barely inches away now.

“I never looked at anyone else the way I looked at you,” he added, voice low. “Even when I was gone. Especially then.”

You reached for him, fingers tugging at the damp fabric of his sleeve, grounding yourself. “I thought I’d lose you.”

His breath hitched.

“You never lost me,” he murmured. “Not really.”

The moment held – sharp, fragile – like glass about to shatter.

But it wouldn’t last.

Because Seungcheol was coming.

And there was still nowhere left to run.

---

[11:09 pm, Geneva safehouse rooftop]

Rain hammered the rooftop, wind roaring as the chopper circled above, blades screaming through the night. You burst through the access door, lungs burning, Jeonghan right behind you, the duffel slung over his shoulder, blood dark on his sleeve.

But before you could signal the pilot–

“Don’t move.”

The voice stopped you cold.

Seungcheol stepped out of the shadows, drenched, gun drawn. Hair plastered to his forehead, chest heaving. His eyes locked on you– not with shock. Not even with fury. But something colder.

“You really thought I wouldn’t find you?”

Jeonghan moved instantly, pushing you behind him, shielding you. “Back off.”

Seungcheol didn’t even blink. “Of course it’s you. Should’ve known. Always the silent one, always two steps behind, until it counts.”

“I’m not letting you take her,” Jeonghan said, voice low.

Seungcheol’s finger twitched on the trigger. Seungcheol’s jaw ticked. “Give me the lockbox. Walk away.”

Jeonghan didn’t budge. “That’s not happening.”

Seungcheol’s voice turned lethal. “You don’t even know who you’re protecting.”

“And you think that makes you better?” Jeonghan countered. “You were going to drag her back like she’s nothing.”

“She used me!” Seungcheol snapped.

“And you let her,” Jeonghan shot back. “Because some part of you wanted to believe it was real.”

That struck a nerve.

Seungcheol lunged first – Jeonghan met him head-on. The gun flew from Seungcheol’s grip, clattering across the rooftop. Then fists. Rain. Footsteps scuffling over wet concrete.

They were equally matched – brutal, unrelenting. It was ugly, fast, and raw.

Seungcheol slammed Jeonghan into the wall once, twice, but Jeonghan twisted free, landing a brutal punch to the ribs. They grappled, staggered, breathless – neither pulling punches.

A harsh grunt as Seungcheol tackled him down, fists connecting, fury boiling over.

You rushed forward. “Stop it! You’re going to kill each other–”

But they didn’t stop until they were both too winded to continue.

Jeonghan shoved himself up, bloodied and panting.

Seungcheol wiped blood from his lip, glaring at you now. “Was it all fake? Everything you said to me?”

Your throat tightened.

And with the chopper finally lowering, light flooding the rooftop–

Jeonghan reached for your hand. “We need to go. Now.”

The helicopter’s spotlight swung wide again. Your window was closing.

You turned to leave. Took two steps.

Then stopped.

Turned back to Seungcheol, who hadn’t moved, only stared, broken and furious and lost all at once.

You looked him in the eyes, voice barely cutting through the wind.

“My identity might’ve been fake…”

A pause. A breath.

“…but what I felt for you – what we had, that was real.”

He looked up at you like that hurt worse than if you shot him.

He could’ve hated you. That would’ve been easier. But now… now he couldn’t even hold the anger. Only the weight of something that was real, and gone.

Jeonghan’s hand found yours.

“Let’s go,” he said.

You boarded. No looking back this time.

And as the helicopter rose into the sky, Seungcheol stayed below, unmoving, rain soaking through his shirt, a war still raging behind his eyes.

But he didn’t follow.

He couldn’t.

Not anymore.

---

[ Next day, 5:33 pm, Monaco]

The sun dipped low over the Monaco coastline, casting a soft golden light across the sleek yachts and rolling waves.

The villa you and Jeonghan had found was quiet, tucked away in a corner of the city’s upscale enclave.

Inside, the Fabergé egg, now safely hidden in its vault, had long since become a symbol of the chaos and the escape that had led you here.

The city buzzed softly below, but up here, in this slice of paradise, everything felt suspended, peaceful.

The balcony door slid open

“You look tired,” Jeonghan murmured, handing you a cup of coffee, as he stood beside you, with your shoulders slightly brushing his.

You glanced at him, the cool breeze tousling his hair. “Sleeping’s a luxury these days,” you said, your voice softer than you intended.

Jeonghan didn’t respond with words. Instead, he leaned over and gently kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as if savoring the closeness. The gesture was simple, but there was something in it that made your heart ache in the best way.

There had been too many nights, too many moments where you’d almost lost him, and now, here, with him beside you, it felt like you were holding onto the pieces of a dream you hadn’t dared to hope for.

“You know,” he began, his voice low, “I was terrified I’d lose you back there. I thought... when you said those things, when I saw you with him...” His breath hitched, just slightly. “I thought I couldn’t come back from that.”

You lifted your gaze to meet his, the weight of the words hanging in the air between you. Your chest tightened. “I didn’t want to lose you either,” you said, almost in a whisper. “I was scared... scared that if I finally admitted how I felt, I’d push you away. That it would ruin everything.”

Jeonghan slowly turned to face you fully, his eyes dark with a mix of pain and longing. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said quietly. “I never wanted you to think you had to choose.”

You reached up, brushing your fingertips lightly against his jaw, as if to ground yourself, as if to remind yourself that this was real.

He leaned in slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. There was no need for words. Everything you had been holding back, every silent confession, every touch that had been left unsaid, now it hung in the space between you like a delicate thread, about to snap.

You closed your eyes for a second, just breathing him in, and when you opened them, his lips were so close, so dangerously close. You could feel his heart racing, his pulse quickening beneath your touch.

And then, without warning, Jeonghan closed the final distance. His lips met yours in a kiss that was both desperate and tender, as if he were claiming what had been waiting for so long. There was no rush, no urgency, just the quiet, unspoken truth that had been buried between you both for years.

The kiss was soft, but it burned with the weight of everything that had happened, everything that had brought you to this moment.

Your heart fluttered as his hands slid to your back, pulling you closer, as if afraid you’d slip away again. You kissed him back, slow and deep, the world outside fading into a blur of golden light and the sound of your own hearts beating in unison.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, you rested your forehead against his, eyes still closed.

“I’ve waited for this,” you murmured, voice barely audible, as though confessing something you’d never dared to say.

Jeonghan’s eyes were half-closed, his lips swollen from the kiss, and he smiled, a soft, genuine smile that you hadn’t seen in far too long. “Me too,” he whispered back, the words carrying the weight of everything.

You used to think love felt like adrenaline. Like a chase. Like stolen glances and unsaid truths simmering beneath the surface.

And maybe with Seungcheol, it was.

He was the storm, fierce and fast, impossible to ignore. He made your heart race, made you question everything you thought you knew. He saw the thief in you and still wanted to believe in something good. But in the end, he loved the idea of you. The mystery. The possibility.

But Jeonghan?

Jeonghan saw it all. The broken pieces. The lies. The mess you tried to hide. And still he stayed. Not because he had to. But because he chose to.

Again and again.

He wasn’t the second lead in your story. He was the constant. The anchor. The one who knew the risks, the ugliness, the truth and stood by your side anyway.

So no, you didn’t choose the wrong guy.

You chose the one who never walked away.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you were certain of one thing: you were home.

A/N: Sooo that's the end, I hope u guys liked it & TYSM for reading. I'm open to any suggestions cuz this was my first time writing angst let alone a series. Also my ask box is always open so feel free to pop in!

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #svt #choi seungcheol #svt imagines #svt angst #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x reader

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hockpock · 2 years ago

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Glasses Review - Firmoo

Hello vision impaired friends, I bring you the gospel of Ordering Your Damn Glasses Online

I have previously ordered from EyeBuyDirect (luxotica/lenscrafters'/America's Best in disguise, sorry.) and Zenni Optical ( most well known online provider, A+ would recommend) and have seen lots of ads for free pairs from a competitor, Firmoo. I have too much prescription for the free pair offers to ever work out from ANY provider, but their fun designs put them on my list.

When my current glasses broke, I was dinking around and saw their current promotion is Buy One Get One Free PLUS 20% off lenses and as lenses are the real $$$ I jumped on that like tigger on crack. I am VERY nearsighted with astigmatism and the average pair of glasses from lenscrafters used to cost me $300 minimum.

After much deliberation with a million tabs open and a poll I ignored the results of for Reasons, I ordered a pair of clear frames and a pair of purple steampunk-y wireframes . Two pairs of HIGH PRESCRIPTION glasses for $87 shipped. I could cry, y'all.

Note: I have an up to date prescription and a nifty app that measures Pupillary Distance or 'PD'. you will need both these things accurate to have the best experience buying your glasses online.

I ordered them 9/22, they shipped 9/25, I received them 9/29 with regular shipping. They came well packed - each pair was in a bag made of cleaning cloth material inside a sturdy plastic case and they come in a foil bubble mailer.

Both pairs feel well made, with lots of attention to detail-

however I did not pay attention to detail or pay extra money for the Re-he-heaaallly thin lenses. So the clear ones are slightly too big and I hate the way the nose pieces sit, while the purple ones are a wee bit small across the temple and heavy to boot. I haven't had dents in my nose like this since I was 12.

the website lists their exchange policy as 30 days, the pamphlet that came with the glasses says 60. Either way it was pretty painless to go into my order history and select "exchange". The form I filled out with my reasons for dissatisfaction promised me I would be contacted within 24 hours.

My 'personal Firmoo consultant', 'Karen', emailed me with a code for the full price before discount of both pairs + standard shipping, as well as the usual customer service canned answers about checking the sizing information and did I know I could upgrade the lenses?

Also I could keep the failed pairs 'FOR NOW', here are some places that accept glasses as donations. (mixed messages, Karen, but sweet!)

New friends are April006, round anodized wireframes with a cute dingly gem thing, and Sandy020 , literal tortoiseshell cat eye frames.

This time I used the site's search terms to cut the temple width and earpiece length options down and double checked the weight of the base frames. (14g vs 24g for the round wireframes before my coke-bottle lenses. RIP my nose. )

New order was placed 10/5 and they arrived 10/17 . (last time I checked the tracking estimated arrival had creeped from the 19th up to the 23rd so grain of salt. This may be a tactic to make the order feel like it got here faster or legit delays. In my case there was a federal holiday involved.)

Complete disclosure I'm gonna grab a pair of pliers and take the little dangly off the wireframes. It makes a noise when I move my head and if I don't fold the frames in the right order when I take them off it'll scratch up the lenses. I ain't gonna remember to avoid that, so off it goes.

The Good:

Large selection, Good Quality, Good Communication. Lots of Off the Beaten Path options for internet weirdos. Firmoo p much always has a promotion going.

My wallet is so happy. SO HAPPY. Frames run $20-30ish to start. lenses will vary with your prescription and options.

If y'all want 50% off your first frames and to give me a $10 credit they have a referral program and my code is T4Z8I2. BOGO20 is a better value but it expires 11/01/23.

The Bad:

Not flexible about lens options- you go down one track and pick your options within that. If there was a way to put tinting on a pair of glasses other than blue light blocking I couldn't find it. (in contrast I believe Zenni lets you choose a range of colors and tint depth on any pair, designed as sunnies or not)

You Will Get Emails. Firmoo REALLY wants you to buy more glasses and post about it and tell your friends and HERE THIS CODE IS ONLY GOOD FOR 3 DAYS, GO BUY NEW GLASSES. They are marketing themselves to fashionable young influencers who change styles every month. Unsubscribe with impunity.

like Zenni, this is a company with the majority of it's functionality based overseas. It's cheaper because you're ordering directly from a factory and not paying Luxotica's markups to itself. Customer service is mostly English as Second Language speakers and there may be delays.

Not For Emergencies. I was able to coast on a pair of glasses from a prescription or 2 ago but it's gonna take time for your order to be made and shipped.

Overall I'm very happy with them and will probably order again.

Next time I have spare money I'm aiming at Wherelight because y'all. they are next down on the list of reputable to shady AF but they have the most amazing WTF designs.

#glasses #low vision #review #pock posts a thing #firmoo.com #vision impaired #long post

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midnightsnackblog · 1 year ago

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Branch is a pop troll so he has a bit of a difficult time adjusting to the sudden change in environment especially with the heat from the volcano that the rock trolls live in. So I thought that maybe Barb had someone tailored this outfit for Branch once he felt comfortable enough to try out their customs in clothing attire. His clothes are made to help him keep cool in his new home. Tbh I was gonna make his outfit all fiery red but then I thought hmm blue fire fits him more since in the fic he’s still without his colors so it’ll definitely make him pop more but hey it’l look cool! The earpiece I gave him is supposed to be an earbud, something to help with muffling noises and drown out the loud music that is constantly blaring around the volcano of the rock trolls.

So here you have it! A branch design from the fic that is an absolute must-read I have fun with this design!

I'm gonna make this place your home

#my art #fanart #mayonaka rambles #trolls fanart #dreamworks trolls #dreamworks branch #branch fanart #rock trolls #his left ear is a bit messed up from the bergen attack #he can still hear from it #he still has floyd's vest #he keeps it underneath his jacket

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pattonscribe · 8 months ago

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MCYT HALLOWEEN

Recipient: @cryingincrocs

@mcyt-halloween

I had an absolute blast writing this. I hope you enjoy it! :)

Halloween doesn’t officially start until the sun has set, that’s the rule Tango has always abided by. When the only light to illuminate the night is the flicker of jack o'lanterns, when cobwebs dance in the wind, only then does the spirit of Halloween truly come alive.

Tango stood alone outside the front of the restaurant. Hay bales lay stacked at both ends of the road, barricading it from traffic. Off to the side, Mumbo was hunched over the engine of a small tractor, letting out a few choice words every time his grip slipped or smoke got into his face. Scar napped in the back of the hay wagon while Grian talked into an earpiece. Every year he got all in a huff about the main street prep for Halloween, and this year was no different.

For one night, the main street was barren. No cars, no traffic. A red carpet moments away from being sprawled out, giving way to trick or treaters. The custom was for shops on the main street to hand out treats, organize the hayride, and redecorate one of the shops as a haunted house.

The front door chimed as Jimmy and Skizz walked out the front door. As the door was closing, Tango caught his first good look at the interior of the diner now that the haunted house prep had concluded. The candy red checkerboard floors and outdated diner walls were now devoid of all color, covered by tarps and trashbags, further enhancing the illusion of complete darkness. Fog seeped out from every nook with curious eyes, like a cat who takes interest in the outdoors when the door is left ajar just so.

The interior would be decorated to the ceiling with various props and effects. Each of the three got to pick and design their own room. Tango was mighty proud of how his room turned out, tinkering with some of the broken Halloween props from last year made it easy to reuse them now.

“I think everything’s good to go,” Jimmy said, removing the cowboy hat from his head. His face was , “Although your stupid mummy thing tried to kill me at least twice. I thought you fixed all the noodles, or something like that.”

Tango squinted in Jimmy’s direction, “Were you behind the line?”

“Well I- it’s too dark in there and-” Jimmy averted his eyes.

“It’s glow-in-the-dark tape in front of a chain link fence, it doesn’t need to be dark to know you stand behind the tape.”

“Well, I’m a big dog,” Jimmy said with a huff, “A big brave dog who ain't scared of some Halloween props. I just wanted to make sure the dumb thing was working and all.”

Tango smiled warmly and pecked Jimmy’s cheek with a kiss, “It’s on a timer sweetheart, you don’t need to check on it.”

Jimmy’s face flushed red, his words suddenly mush in his mouth.

Skizz spoke up before he could recover. “Alright guys, Halloween's almost officially here and everything is lookin’ good. I think the kids are gonna freakin’ love this!” his voice swayed between giddiness and excitement. There is an electricity that laces his words with the cold, weaseling their way into Tango and Jimmy. “I gotta hand it to you Top, I didn't think we'd make it work.”

Tango gave a rusty laugh, “C'mon, really? We're a three-man team. Unstoppable in every sense of the word. Hard to fail when you've got the brains, the brawn, and Jimmy.” He said, pointing to himself, Skizz, then Jimmy.

“That's right, that's ri- HEY!”

Skizz interrupted before Jimmy could rattle off some choice words, “Well, unless Scar hosts another ‘Landscaping Your Mind’ podcast meet-up and everyone from here to Empires comes in for the lunch rush.”

“That was one time!” Tango interjected. He was just the guy who brought the food out. Skizz was on cleaning duty that day after all, and it wasn't Tango’s fault that he didn't see the water spill on the floor. “If we had stuck to tacos like I said that morning, there wouldn't have been any accidents. Salads only lead to complications.”

Skizz laughed, slapping a hand on Tango's back. “Only one of us had an accident that day buddy, and it sure as hell wasn't me.”

Across the street, other shops slowly came to life. Pearl was finishing lighting the last of the jack o’lanterns in front of her art shop just as Gem turned the orange string lights dancing across her store front on. Bdubs plugged in the fog machine outside his plant shop, and Etho made the last changes to the Aubrey mechanical replica from Little Shop of Horrors (conveniently placed just outside the plant shop, to Bdubs irritation).

The conversation bit back and forth between the three of them, until Skizz took note of the time.

“Shoot! It's almost 6 o'clock, Grian's due to open the floodgates any second now.” Skizz turned to Tango, “Care for a little test run? A maiden voyage for good luck before we get this show on the road?”

“Are you doubting my engineering prowess?” Tango balked in amusement, “I hooked up every machine-ificator in there and made them all skadoodle. It's part of my job description as a waiter.” he teased.

“Is part of the job description crying to Etho and Mumbo for help everytime something goes awry?”

Tango shot Skizz a look, “Oh, haha. Very funny wise guy. It’s called debugging, I just needed a few ears to shoot ideas off of.” He trailed off, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper, “And, maybe, sometimes, fix some kinks in the noodles that were a bit more than I could chew.”

Skizz hummed with a knowing look, but kept any words he may have wanted to playfully shoot back to himself. “Alright Jimmy, get in there and knock Tango's socks off!”

Jimmy gave a salute, and with a triumphant “Yes, sir!” he sprinted back into the restaurant.

Tango crossed his arms and smiled. “Alright reaper boy, let's hear the spiel. I'm ready to have my socks fully knocked off.”

#solidaritygaming #jimmy solidarity #tangotek #halloween scribbles #skizzleman #this is more-so a ranchers mini fic than anything #but it's also based around a plate up dynamic so skizz is also here by obligation #hermitcraft #life series #double life #hermitcraft au #hermitblr

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blackered · 11 months ago

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I couldn't get a good captura of this bitch for the life of me so the only other option was to draw them.

I wasn't hyped for Warframe 1999 at all, but the tennocon stream did something to me. so I just HAD to do some shopping and styling here. 💚

(useless commentary + shitty captura under the cut)

background is concept art from the 2023 tennocon by Justin Smith, with a filter over it🫶

it was very hard to come up with something that was reasonably in theme and looked good enough, especially with limited resources like I have. no prime items, no tennogen, only free items and what's available to buy with plat from the customization screen.

yeah so the thing is: drifter fashion in this game is REALLY lacking imo. the operator's been here for quite a while now so they've had more time to get fit releases and prime access items, so I really hope the drifter gets the same treatment with time. (the Liger Inuzuka designs fucking SLAP tho)

I am SO looking forward to whatever the new 1999 themed tennogen artists bring. I think it'll elevate the look a lot more.

it's also almost impossible to make a fully androgynous drifter, as the female faces are extremely feminine and the male faces are extremely masculine. voice doesn't matter since you can put any voice on any face. but that's just me being a little bitch tho, it doesn't really matter.

well, I did my best... here's the captura (which looks HORRIBLE but I told you) and the stuff I used in case y'all wanna copy it.

Facial accessories: cognitive relay

Ear accessories: nightwave earpieces

Visage ink: airlock

Body suit: drifter grineer vest

Sleeves: vahd pauldrons

Leggings: smelter greaves

Chest: harmony ribbon (omitted in the drawing)

Left arm: N/A

Right arm: saturn six

Both legs: protovyre emergent

Ephemera doesn't really matter it's your choice

Syandana: tennocon 2024

Colors are all black and purple variants from the smoke, hallow's eve and pride pallettes. Have fun 🫶

#sorry for the wall of text lol #warframe #warframe 1999 #warframe drifter #warframe art #drifter fashion #sunny speaking

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viktorviolettaenterprises · 2 years ago

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(House Of Ashes) Jason Kolchek & Salim Othman's Outfit

Note:This Is Basically Remastered Version of My Old Works Back in 2022. I Decide to Improve Some Outfit And Of Course Include The Weapons that Used in the Game. Honestly I Never Played this Game At All. I Only Know this Game From Tumblr's Forum About Shipping Between this two Character with Codename "JaLim". But I Found the Other Reason To Loving This Game: It was Brought The Iraqi Conflict Of 2003 Mixed it with Horror Elements which I Found it Interesting. But Without Futher A do Let's Let This Show On The Road.

thanks to @hornydotsblog For Borrowing Her Sims for My Promotions. Such Magnificent Work, Sister and Keep up a good Work

🇺🇸Jason Kolchek

First Lieutenant Jason Kolchek (cir. 1973) is one of the five main protagonists and a playable character in The Dark Pictures Anthology's third installment, House of Ashes. He is a United States Marine Corps Force Reconnaissance First Lieutenant and the squad leader of Mailman 2-1. Jason is a white American man. He has a white complexion with smooth skin, brown eyes and short brown hair.

For personal items, Jason wears a Blue T-shirt, a gray-green shemagh, black watch on left wrist, and a gray baseball cap with "Remember 9/11" marking. He has two tattoos on his arms: one on left forearm, other - on right upper arm

For his Marine uniform, Jason wears interceptor PASGT vest in woodland camouflage with small bags and tan backpack. He also dons 3-color desert camouflage fatigue pants with two kneepads and combat boots. During the operation, Jason wears an earpiece with a small light and radio on his left ear and is armed with a modified M4A1 carbine.

Set Include:

- Jason's Uniform:

1 Color Swatch

Male Only

Custom Thumbnail

Full Body

Age Range:Teen-Elder

Jason's Baseball Cap:

1 Color Swatch

Male Only

Custom Thumbnail

Baseball Cap Category

Age Range:Teen-Elder

🇮🇶 Salim Othman

This outfit set is created from Lt. Salim Ohman's character from the "House of Ashes" game series, which is a young Iraqi officer. But this outfit set quite resemble on what Iraqi troops wore during the Gulf War and Operation Iraqi Freedom campaign.

Actually since 1980s, Iraqi forces haven't clear pattern of uniform, in other words, Iraqi forces utilised anything they could wear to their troops, even some source show the usage of DPM camo set within the Army mixed by the SSh-68 helmet or what we show here. The outfit itself might be an influence from the old British army's field dress, as well as in other Arab states at that time.

- Salim's Uniform:

1 Color Swatch

Male Only

Custom Thumbnail

Full Body

Age Range:Teen-Elder

-Iraqi M80 Helmet:

-1 Color Swatch

-Unisex

-Custom Thumbnail

-Brimmed-Age Range:Teen-Elder

Weapons (Exclusive to This Set)

-M4A1

I personally fond of the weapons design in this game. but sadly I disapprove of the anachronism featured in the accessories selection. Starting with the Magpul products, Magpul Industries was established in 1999, resulting in its existence by the time of the Iraq War. The products depicted in the game were not accurate. Firstly, the MOE (Magpul Original Equipment) product lines were not officially released until 2008, which makes the stock on the M4A1 anachronistic. The pistol grip is not an original A2 type pistol grip since it does not have a finger hump, and there is an extension to the receiver. The handgrip could be a MOE handgrip, but it could also be the Magpul MIAD (Mission Adaptable) handgrip with adjustable back and front straps. The MIAD was released earlier than the MOE, but it was released in 2004, a year after the game's setting. The Marines used Magpul EMAGS (export mags) that had flat sides and a witness window for ammunition. These magazines were not released until 2009. The old steel or aluminum STANAGS would be accurate. While the M4A1 was correctly portrayed with a quad-railed handguard, the type of handguard used for military-issued carbines was incorrect. The rail that should be used is the Knight's Armament Company M4 RAS Forend. The rail system in the game seemed to be heavily influenced by the UTG two-piece handguard and the Surefire M82 handguard. While according to three veterans I talked to about military issued small arms (two Army and one Navy) it is possible to set up your rifle with what you want so having the UTG handguard is not impossible, but it begs the question of why these Marines would go out of their way to pay for the lesser quality of the UTG instead of using the standard issued Knight’s system. UTG was most likely what developers had access to for a reference.

[Custom]Colt M4 (Custom #65)

But Fear Me Not I Eventually Decide to Fix All Those Fiasco With more Era Appropriate and Authentic M4 With Genuine Colt M16A2 Pistol Grip, Real M4A1 Stock, Steel STANAG 30-Rounds Magazine, Authentic Military-Issue Quad Rail Made By Knights Armaments Company (KAC). With Trijicon The Advanced Combat Optical Gunsight (ACOG)

-Glock 17

While Glocks did exist by 2003, but the Glock shown in the game would be 15 years too early because the game used the Generation 5 model of Glocks and Glock’s Gen 5 came out in 2018. The Gen 5 is characterized with the beveled front of the slide and frame, hole in the middle of the guide rod, front slide serrations (although the real Gen 5s’ serrations are straight, not slanted), no finger grooves on the the bottom of the frame (where the flashlight is attached in the game), an ambidextrous slide release, and only one trigger pin.

Glock 17 (#Custom 21)

I made another fix to make it Fit into Game Settings and replaced it with Gen 3 Glocks. as This Particular Generation was Introduced in 1998. The Gen 3 has finger grooves, no front slide serrations, no ambidextrous slide release, no beveled front slide nor beveled frame, a rail on the bottom of the frame and two trigger pins. Attaching an aftermarket flashlight is possible with a rail on the bottom.

BULGARIAN AKK-47

Just some Creativity Liberty I Take, Despite I Know the Facts AK That Used in Game in Fact Soviet Type 3 AK, But I Found it Interesting if they using Bulgarian Ones

Iraqi Tariq Pistol

The pistol of the Republican Guard in the game was the Beretta 1951, or rather its Iraqi copy: the Tariq. The giveaway that it’d likely be the Tariq was the presence of a medallion on the pistol grip, something the original Beretta did not have. Besides the incorrect shape of the slide release and the three holes in the trigger.

DOWNLOAD

@cctreasuretrove @sssvitlanz @exzentra-reblog @ts4-poses

#the sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 custom content #ts4 cc #ts4military #the sims 4 military #ts4 #the sim #the sims 4 cc #ts4cc #the sims 4 gun #ts4 gun #ts4 military #jalim #dark pictures house of ashes #jason x salim #salim othman #jason kolchek #house of ashes

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cynicalrosebud · 9 months ago

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Handle It (7): Claim

Navigation

Series Masterlist

Summary: Babydoll drifts into a dream about the time Alex gave her the most precious gift of all.

Warnings: None, you are responsible for your own media consumption.

Notes: I know it’s short and I’m sorry but I needed a fluffy piece today!

In the quiet of the night, you found yourself drifting into a dream, the world around you softening into hazy, comforting shades. You were back at the beginning, revisiting a cherished memory—the moment Alex had given you your first collar.

You were back in that sunlit room, the air filled with a gentle warmth. Alex stood before you, his expression a blend of pride and affection. In his hands was the collar—a custom piece, more personal and thoughtful than the standard issue. It was reminiscent of a military collar but crafted with care and attention to detail. The metal plate on it bore Alex’s name, a mark of his commitment and care.

The collar itself was more than just a functional piece of equipment. It had a snug, comfortable fit, designed specifically for you. It featured a spot for a communication device, and a delicate wire ran to an attachment for the earpiece in order to accommodate your fluffy ears, ensuring they were always comfortable and functional. The collar was both practical and symbolic, a tangible reminder of the bond you and Alex shared.

Alex knelt before you, carefully fastening the collar around your neck. His touch was gentle, his eyes never leaving yours. The metal plate, engraved with his name, felt cool against your skin as it settled into place.

“Looks good on you, babydoll.” Alex said softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “This is more than just a collar. It’s a promise. A reminder that I’m always with you, no matter where you are.”

You nuzzled against him, your heart swelling with affection. The collar was more than just a piece of equipment; it was a symbol of trust and partnership, a reminder of the unbreakable bond between you. In the dream, you felt a profound sense of belonging and security.

As you looked at the collar, you noticed how it reflected light, catching the sun’s rays in a way that made it shimmer subtly. It wasn’t just functional—it was a part of you, a part of your journey together.

When you woke up, the memory lingered, bringing a sense of warmth and reassurance. The collar was a reminder of the love and commitment Alex had shown you from the very start. It wasn’t just about the practical aspects; it was about the care and thought he had put into making sure you felt valued and protected.

As you stretched and moved into the day, the memory of that collar remained with you, a comforting presence that reminded you of the strong bond you and Alex shared. It wasn’t just a piece of gear; it was a symbol of the deep, unwavering connection that defined your relationship.

#call of duty #fanfic #alex keller x reader #alex keller #k9 hybrid au #x reader

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indigo-ghost-girl · 2 years ago

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Spoilers for parts of Sonic Frontiers...

Part 1

Part 7

Eggman howled with victorious laughter as he flew into the relative safety of his fleet.

However, it wasn’t long before he started to notice the explosions. He also noticed the two concentrated beams of red energy burning through the air, like the world’s most dangerous beam lights.

The doctor’s laughter faded into a concerned whine as he steeled a cautious glance behind him. He caught a brief glimpse of his possessed nemesis zipping around at his usual speed.

Eggman couldn’t deny it made him almost nostalgic. It was like he was in space again, leading Super Sonic through the rest of his fleet into a trap designed specifically to capture him and retrieve the emeralds. Only this time, the comforting blanket of a plan wasn’t a safety net he could fall back on.

The bolt of red stopped for a split second.

With an instinctual jerk, Eggman swerved the eggmobile to his left. Two lazers of humming, neon purple energy buzzed past him. The narwal themed airship in front of him took the hit and erupted in a great ball of flames. The human gulped.

“Eggman, keep him distracted, I have a plan,” came in Tails static voice from Eggman’s earpiece. It was a miracle it was even heard at all.

“What does it look like I’m doing!” Eggman squawked, swerving his eggmoble hard right to avoid another electric blast. The doctor nervously eyed the singed side of his eggmobile for a split second, “Whatever you plan on doing, do it faster!”

…

On the ground, the other two were helping Tails rummage through the stack of metal crates of Eggman technology and supplies. They had begun to set up an impromptu computer, something neither the red or pink creatures could really wrap their head around.

“So, what’s the new plan?” Knuckles asked, eyeing the lightshow in the upper atmosphere with the appropriate caution and slight awe. He flinched when three giant fish like battleships exploded in quick succession. The sudden judder in his muscles made Knuckles painfully aware of how much he ached.

“The ancients thought ahead, they had a backup plan for if the three titans somehow got destroyed, in the form of the towers,” Tails explained, sliding the metal tongs of two clumps of wires into the ports of a giant keyboard. The keyboard was sitting in a foldable metal table, its thin legs standing surprisingly strong as more and more pressure was piled on top of it.

“Alright?” Knuckles asked, eyes still fixed on the sky.

“Which means that, if we’re lucky, they might have made some type of backup program encase it did get out.”

“Wait, I thought… Sage told us sealing him in cyberspace wouldn’t work?” Amy questioned, pulling out a folded swivel chair that looked big enough to hold ten large bags of potato’s. She took a moment to look at it questioningly, wondering whether Eggman really needed a chair that big or if he just wanted to sit on throne sized seats.

The fox connected another clump of wires into the cyberspace portal, the custom gear shaped metal plug slotting perfectly into its base.

“Not… permanently no but it should buy us some time.” Tails flicked three switches and pressed a big black button. The machine whirred to life, two holographic screens flickering on above the keyboard.

Amy unfolded the chair and pushed it in front of the computer.

Tails fell into the chair, flexing his fingers. “And If not, I’m going to have to program one from scratch.”

...

Eggman beelined it to the tankiest ship in his fleet, weaving in and around the ships moving in to shield him against the lazers zapping mercilessly through the air. The ship in question was a humongous whale shark inspired vessel, wider than most skyscrapers and heavier too, only kept afloat by an ungodly amount of fossil fuel that would make any environmentalist pull their hair out.

The metal sphere narrowly dodged another pair of lazers. He pressed on, resisting the urge to pound his console in fearful frustration. The great Doctor Eggman, fleeing like a coward, again! He simmered furiously. He couldn’t even…

An alarm blared a loud “wahh”, on his console. Eggmans head snapped to the side. One of his airships was hurtling towards him, smouldering with red flames.

He let out a very unsophisticated “Gahhh!” pressing south hard on his controls. The metal egg pod dipped suddenly.

A grating scraping tore across the top of his glass dome. One of the smouldering wings had caught the top of the egg mobile. Its legacy left behind by the charred scratch now engraved into the glass. The sound may have deafened him, were it not for his metal headphones that automatically did their best to cancel out much of the screech.

A metal docking hatch opened on the whale shark ship and Eggman shot for it. His momentum wabbled as he dodged yet another lazer blast. He made it in, side of the Eggmobile clipping the side of the docks entrance, a chunk of metal peeling off. The man dove from the craft, hitting the ground with an undignified groan. He flinched away at the loud crunch that echoed from the far side of the dock seconds later. Eggman didn’t spare a glance at the broken hunk of metal that might have been his resting place had he not ejected himself, instead focusing on dashing to the exit, slamming his fist on a big black button outlined in yellow and black strips. The ship suddenly lit up in blaring alarms, red lights flashing, as he booked it through the door. It closed with a heavy clonk behind him.

Something loud cracked behind him as he ran through yet more doors, each one closing with a heavier thunk. The Docters brain was running a mile a minute, desperately recalling the safest route to another dock and a spare eggmobile. The further away he got, the quieter it became. It made the hairs on his mustache stand on end.

The man slowed to a stop, leaning on his knees and panting. The sound of his gasping breaths echoing off the soulless metal walls of the tunnel. The longer there was no sound, the more the doctors skin began to crawl.

He lifted a shaking hand up to the radio in his headset, missing the button his first attempt at pressing it. “Tails,” he called into his radio, “Just what are you up to?” he demanded, his voice came out much feebler than he preferred and he cleared his throat sharply.

“Just keep it busy,” came the hurried, reedy voice of the fox.

“It’s gone quiet up here,” Eggman admitted with a cautious mumble, “has it…”

“He’s not returned to the island, if that’s what you’re asking,” came the reply.

Eggman hummed in nervous acknowledgement, releasing the speaker button. Eggman pulled out a wire from his back pocket, plugging it into an open space in the wall. He attached the lead into a small tablet like device he pulled from his coat. The screen of the device flittered to life. The top view of the room he was in popping up; the feed relayed from the camara on the wall, showing his bald head and bristled mustache. Eggman took a moment to smooth down his facial hair before tapping the screen. The feed flickered to the room he knew was the dock he had entered. The view of the room flashed red every few seconds: lighting up the space. It took a few seconds to make out but there was a giant hole in the wall, great cracks leading from the hole and into the runways.

Eggman clenched his fist.

He swiped the screen to the right, turning the camara, the door he had entered through was intact, much to his surprise. Had it not followed him?

“Tails are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Tails responded, bordering on curt.

“What’s going on up there Eggman?” Came the distant voice of Knuckles. “The explosions stopped…”

“I don’t know,” Eggman grumbled, flickering through more camaras, the control centre, the engine, the massive spare robot part room.

“Come out come out wherever you are,” came a whispery call from above him. Eggman jolted, stumbling backwards and snapping his head around. His eyes fell on the metal bars that led into the darkness of a tunnel.

“What?” called the confused voice of Knuckles.

“The blasted thing is in the ventilation shaft,” he quickly yanked the cable from the port, shoving both bits of equipment into his coat and starting up his panicked sprint again. Seconds after he took off, the distinctive sound of tearing metal screeched behind him.

“All robots, report to storage chamber B10. NOW!” Eggman commanded. He burst into the next room, running past the broken robot parts and the line of mass produced soldier bots that had began filing into the room from three different entrances. Robots, armed to the literal teeth with guns, lazer cannons and various other deadly metal barrels. The door slammed behind him as he entered. The impact shook the ground under his feet and his arms flailed as he regained his balance.

“Robots! He demanded hoarsely, gasping for breath, “Attack!” A metal explosion went off behind him. Eggman saw tiny bullet sized metal shrapnel go flying past his face. He was still mid run when something lodged itself in the back of his left heel. It threw him off completely. The man fell flat on his face, sliding over the threshold of the exit with his gained momentum.

The door slammed shut behind him, just centremetres away from his boots.

“This had better be worth it, Fox.” he spat into the radio, unplanting his red face from the metal floors. The man tried to stand, jolting forwards when he tried to put pressure on his left ankle. He caught himself on his hands before he could face plant a second time. He had made it to the control room. A large white control panel sat at the centre of the ovular space, propped up on a purposely tall platform with five steps on either side.

Eggman sighed, suddenly regretting his architecture choices.

Eggman heard a seething hissing. He flipped onto his back. A chunk of the metal door fizzled and glowed a hot burning red. It formed the unmistakable silhouette of Super Sonic.

The human scrambled backwards on his back like a three legged spider, his immobile left leg dragging a streak of bright crimson across the spotless white floor.

In walked an unfettered red hedgehog, molten metal dripping off it like hot butter. Its fur and quills hissed, steam and smoke rising off it in thin spirals. Small, charred patches of purple fur fell out, floating to the floor in black, scattered clumps. The skin underneath, only visible for a moment as the fur almost immediately grew back. It took a moment to brush off a small clump of charred fur on its shoulder before turning its attention back to its target.

The hedgehog observed the cowering human for a moment. It chuckled.

Sonic’s face lit up, mouth spreading into a cocky grin, “What is wrong eggface, frightened of a little rodent?” called the thing, its voice warping into a Sonic like snark.

Eggman began to feel thick sweat crawling down the back of his neck. What he would give to have the real Sonic approaching him. He, at least, could be talked down.

“Sonic, you stubborn rodent,” he barked, dragging his tense and ragged limbs across the floor away from it, “I’ve fought you for years, your persistence is maddening. You refused to be commanded by anything before, not even by my brilliance. Why is this thing an exception?”

It paused, then smiled. “The ‘rodent’ doesn’t care doctor.”

“Get back!” he demanded, shuffling back on his bottom. He hit the opposite wall.

Eggmans hand finally reached the compartment behind him, yanking open the hatch and grabbing the lazer gun. The bowel expanded like a Venus flytrap. Eggman spammed the trigger, red shots of light rapidly shooting from the centre of the jaws.

The red hedgehog continued its walk, unfettered. Each shot that hit its target smouldering out like a doused flame, the rest flying uselessly by, melting little holes through the wall, beams of blue sky shining through.

…

Tails jittering fingers jabbed at the keyboard.

Amy tapped the tip of her boot against the ground nervously, hands clasped tightly to her heart. Her eyes followed along to the strings of code appearing across the screen in a vain attempt to understand anything.

Knuckles was pacing, agitated, back and forth through the grass. “Arg,” Knuckles growled, kicking up a clump of grass, “I should be doing something.”

A square panel the size of a thick, A5 book slid back on the metal cylinder, attached to the keyboard with trailing yellow wires. “Amy, I need one of your rings,” Tails told her, lifting his left hand from the keyboard to point at the hole while his right continued to type away.

“Of course,” Amy twisted a ring off her left wrist.

“I said stay back!” Shouted the radio. Tails flinched back, unhooking the radio from his ear, gently tossing it down next to the keypad.

Something on the other end crunched, a static howl erupted from the speaker.

All three creatures cringed. Amy’s face twisted in hesitant worry. The hedgehog quickly slid the ring into the hole, only half of it fitting inside.

“Foreign item, except? Y/N”

Tails quickly clicked a popup that appeared on the second, smaller hologram.

A loading bar appeared under the box.

“Good, now don’t touch it,” Tails turned his attention to the second screen, his hands became a blur on the keyboard, eyes flickering across the lines of blue lettered code as they appeared on screen.

The second voice spoke up from the radio, “This incarnation can only speculate the sentiment of mortal empathy.”

Knuckles found himself gritting his teeth.

“Natheless, Comprehension of imposed imprisonment is a shared abhorrence.”

“Come on...” mumbled The Fox, frantically hitting the back button ten times.

“And compensation is long since overdue.”

A tearing sound, like a knife scoring through leather, followed. The radio crackled and buzzed, struggling to receive the volume on the other side. Small moments of broken roaring cries occasionally snapping through the static.

Amy covered her mouth with a hand, reeling backwards. Her head turned to Knuckles.

“Tails!” He snapped.

Tails lent into the holographic screen, his nose a pennies width from it, “I need more time!” he hissed desperately.

A high whistling cut through the air. Knuckles head snapped towards the sound. A red something broke through the side of an airship, zipping through the air like a comet.

“I’ll keep it busy,” Knuckles shot off in the comet’s direction, tracking its fall.

Amy went to follow; Tails grabbed her by the arm. “No, I need you here.”

Knuckles shoes stopped dangerously close to the edge of the cliff face, skidding to a stop just in time.

The comet crashed into the ocean, knocking up a towering pillar of water that drenched the cliffside. It drenched Knuckles along with it. A slimy something smacked him in the face. He yelped and spluttered in surprise, batting away the silvery distressed fish. It gasped and flailed on the grass next to him. Knuckles wiped the saltwater from his face, his eyes staining with a red frame. He blinked hard, trying to clear the buzzing pain assaulting his eyeballs.

He got back enough of his vision to notice the fish. Knuckles frowned sadly. Still blinking frantically, he nudged it gently back into the water with the side of his foot. It landed back in the water with an unheard plop among the roaring of the waves.

A boom shook the ground. Through Knuckles’ blurred vision he saw a dim scarlet light illuminate the darkness below the waters surface. A few seconds passed and a slew of black shapes bobbed to the surface. Knuckles shook his head before squinting his eyes.

Fish. Dead eyed sea creatures, black charcoal burned to their scales.

Knuckles shoulders tensed. He growled, watching the corpses get tossed around in the waves. He made a fist, slamming it furiously into his other hand. He examined the water, eyes twitching, fiercely watching the waves, waiting for that thing to dare show its face.

Something else bobbed to the surface, small bits of something. He couldn’t see what.

Another rumbling caught his attention, it felt like someone burrowing in the rocks beneath him.

Crackle!

Knuckles leapt back, narrowly missing the shooting red ball of electricity as it shot from the earth beneath his heels.

The Echidna raised his fists, halting when he saw something in its hand: The glistening blue head of metal Sonic, dangling; loose wires fizzling from its base.

“Meddlesome machine,” it tutted lightly, flicking it away with its index finger. The metal ball shot horizontally over the cliff. It soon became a dot in the distance before it lost momentum and dropped like a rock.

The red hedgehog opened its mouth casually, letting loose a waterfall of seawater that cascaded out in one go. Knuckles grimaced in disgust.

“Your friend detests the ocean,” it commented, mouth still dribbling.

Knuckles leapt, aiming a punch. It grinned softly, disappearing just before the fist could contact. A blast of pain exploded in the back of his skull. Another strike to the chest sent him plummeting into the ground, creating a small chasm in the stone cliff face under him.

“You disappoint me, last of the echidnas, your friend believes you to be more capable than that pathetic display.”

Knuckles strained to open his eyes, a pounding headache beating at the back of his brain like a drum. Something caught the corner of his vision. The echidna smiled. With a grunt, Knuckles pushed himself from the rubble onto his knees, “Of course I am,” he chuckled, voice cracking. He heaved in a few breaths, quelling his headache, “But I’m just the distraction,”

A bright yellow ring descended over the head of the red hedgehog, closing in on its arms in a millisecond and swiftly yanking the hedgehog away.

“…What is this?” it questioned dully as it was quickly dragged across the island.

It turned its head, following the yellow rope dragging the ring, noticing the keyhole shaped structure ploughing towards it, the circle atop alit with a glitchy blue flame. The neon purple lights in its eyes spasmed.

“NO!” An eldritch screech boomed, its face twisting and stretching vertically like rubber. “We will not return to that accursed prison.” It screeched in desperation, legs flailing, thousands of voices morphing into one.

It burst to life with red electricity. Just as it entered the circle, the yellow ring binding it shattered.

The red hedgehog glowered down at the fox, neon purple slicing through icey blue. “YOU.DARE-”

But Amy had already ripped off her second ring, jamming it into the hole, Tails quickly slammed down his hand on a blue button. A second ring formed. It ensnared its neck, yanking it back.

The air fizzed to life with red sparks for a split second but was immediately quelled as a bright golden light engulphed the portal.

Tails and Amy shielded their eyes from the bright golden glow, stumbling backwards. The blinding light flickered, fading completely as the humming ancient technology quieted. The only sound left was the exhausted panting of the two friends, standing before the deactivated portal.

“Sorry Amy…” Tails breathed “I don’t think you’ll be getting your rings back,”. Tails shook from head to tails, his arms and fingers throbbing and sore from all the typing.

“Tails…” Amy wheezed, “That, is the least of my worries right now.”

A silent relief washed over the two. Both fell to their knees.

#Uhhh what do i usually put here again?#Desperation!Sonic #End!Sonic #Chapter 6 #The Desperation of the End #Sonic Frontiers #Sonic Frontiers spoilers #Sonic Au #Sonic fanfiction #Sorry it took so long #most of it was done like i said but i lost a bit of motivation to continue it

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stars-over-new-jersey · 6 months ago

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A Major Award

Old man Michael and classic car KITT return to go undercover at a classic car show. Things do not go according to plan.

AO3 link

"Michael, I still don't understand why you and I need to perform this mission," KITT complained as Michael maneuvered them into their designated spot on the boardwalk.

"The Foundation needs someone to go undercover at the car show to get access to the computer systems of Genardi's Pizza. They've been accused of using the shop as a front for money laundering, and we're here to get proof," Michael explained patiently.

"I don't see why it has to be us," KITT complained. "There were other teams available that were already in the area."

"KITT, it's a classic car show," Michael said. "The others don't qualify yet."

"So just because I'm old, I have to drive all the way across the country to sit by the ocean, get coated in salt, and be ogled by random people," KITT complained.

"That's pretty much it, bud." Michael said. "Look, the people at this event are here because they like classic cars. You'll have an audience that appreciates your design while you infiltrate the computers in that pizza parlor over there."

"Connecting now," KITT said.

"With any luck, they'll use the car show as cover for some transactions today, and the cops will be able to shut the operation down," Michael said. "We'll head back home, and I'll give you a good, thourough wash."

"Hand wash?" KITT asked.

"Of course," Michael replied. "I know you hate seagulls. That's the least I can do for you after making you sit out in the open like this."

"Thank you Michael," KITT said. "I will call your comlink if I start seeing suspicious transactions."

Michael climbed out and opened KITT's trunk to pull out his camp chair and a folding footstool. Other owners around them were doing the same, all settling in for a day of showing off their cars.

Three hours later, and Michael could feel resentment rolling off KITT. The pizza parlor was conducting business in a shockingly ethical manner. Worse, they'd wound up next to a pristine split-window Corvette that was getting all the attention from the car show attendees.

"That's the third person who has called me OK, but said they'd trade me for that thing in a heartbeat," KITT complained though Michael's earpiece.

"It's a split-window Corvette", Michael said, leaning back in his chair and pretended to stretch so he could bring the comlink closer to his head without attracting undue attention.

"I fail to see how having an inferior rear window makes it more desirable than me," KITT continued.

"They're rare," Michael said. "Makes them valuable. Desirable, to many people."

"Hey mister, why is your dashboard all weird?" A young voice interrupted Michael and KITT's conversation.

Michael bolted upright in his seat and looked over at a young boy holding a large bucket of popcorn, who was pointing at KITT while his parents attempted to encourage him onward.

"That's rude," his mother hissed. "We've talked about this, Richard."

"But the other ones all have the mechanical gauges," the boy insisted, shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

"All custom work, one of a kind," Michael said, doing his best to ignore KITT's indignant complaints that were being fed directly to his eardrum. "Was used as a movie prop for awhile, you know."

"There, see? Perfectly good reason for it." Richard's mother said. "Now apologize for being rude to the nice man and his car."

"…sorry," Richard muttered.

"Sorry about that," Richard's father said to Michael. "The kiddo loves old cars, especially all the analog stuff, and he still hasn't got the whole social filter thing down yet."

Michael looked up and down the boardwalk. "Plenty of adult purists around today too. Don't worry about it."

Just as Michael was settling back down in his camp chair, Richard tripped and dropped the popcorn, scattering it across the boardwalk. Every seagull in the immediate area dived screeching on the unexpected bounty.

Richard and his parents ducked and ran.

The owner of the Corvette waved his arms over his head in an ineffectual attempt to shoo the birds away from his car. Despite his best efforts, the Corvette gained several fresh spots of seagull poop on its hood and roof.

Michael noticed KITT's scanner briefly shift to an outside-in pattern out of the corner of his eye.

"Grow up," Michael hissed at his partner.

KITT remained silent.

"I'm going to get lunch," Michael said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Michael, really," KITT said through the earpiece.

"You've been in a mood all morning. I mean it," Michael said. He wandered into the pizza parlor to get lunch and a closer look.

If they hadn't had the information from the police, the place would've been unremarkable to Michael. He'd tried to chat with the teenager working the cash register, but there had been a line forming, and he'd been encouraged to wait over by the pickup counter.

Michael hung around the pickup counter listening in on the workers as long as he dared. If they were discussing anything other than pizza, they were using a code, and he wasn't picking it up. He took his two slices of pepperoni pizza and turned back toward KITT.

Just in time to see the biggest seagull he'd ever seen swoop down and land on KITT's roof.

"Don't you dare do anything with the roof," Michael muttered into the comlink. "We're supposed to be undercover."

"But Michael-"

"Don't," Michael replied.

The seagull turned to stare at Michael's pizza with an unblinking yellow eye.

"Don't even think about it," Michael growled at the seagull as he walked back to his chair. He sat down and ate the mediocre pizza as fast as he could.

The seagull maintained eye contact with the pizza the whole time.

Four hours later, the car show was nearing the end, and KITT hadn't captured anything remotely unusual from the tap he'd placed into the cash register computers at the pizza joint. Michael was starting to share KITT's general annoyance with the whole day.

At least the seagull had left after Michael finished his pizza.

Michael leaned back in his chair, half-dozing in the late afternoon sun, and tried to contemplate their next move. Having KITT leave a remote tracer in the point-of-sale system could be risky if it was found, but if nothing happened in the next half hour, they'd have to.

Just as Michael was starting to think about packing up his chair, an argument erupted in the very pizza shop they'd been monitoring all day.

"--what on earth do you mean you don't have an ATM? I can see it right there!"

Michael sat bolt upright and turned his attention to the altercation. A large, very sunburnt man was yelling loudly at one of the employees, who was trying to placate him.

"Out of order? Bull!" the man yelled, turning even redder. "I just saw somebody using it five minutes ago!"

"KITT, tap the ATM," Michael whispered into the comlink.

"Already started, Michael," KITT said. "They've been running stolen cards through the ATM all afternoon."

"Bingo," Michael hissed under his breath.

"I demand to know what's going on here!" the angry customer continued his tirade. "I'm a federal agent and you can either be honest with me, or my friends and I will tear this place apart and figure out every single one of your shady secrets!"

"Uh-oh," Michael muttered as he looked around. "The floor show is getting an audience." Bystanders had gathered in a semicircle around the front of the pizza shop to take in the drama inside. One woman was eating popcorn as she watched.

"I'm going to see your manager right now," the angry customer bellowed, "and I'm calling the police on you shifty bastards!"

The door at the back of the shop abruptly flew open and an older man charged out, shoving a table into the customer who had claimed to be a federal agent. He vaulted over the resulting mess, before smashing open the ATM and grabbing two small boxes out of it.

"Michael, I can't get out of here!" KITT nearly wailed over the earpiece. "There's too many people around! You'll have to catch him on your own!"

Michael bit back a curse. He was nearly as trapped by the crowd as KITT was. Meanwhile, the pizza shop owner dodged and shoved his way though the crowd, headed for the nearby cross street.

"Michael, the red convertible parked at the next street is registered to Solomon Genardi," KITT said.

Michael peered around the heads of the crowd and spotted the red convertible KITT had mentioned. He tried to find a way through the crowd but didn't see a route to head off Genardi before he reached the convertible.

As he looked around frantically, an idea dawned on Michael. He grabbed a bucket of popcorn out of a woman's hands, did his best to remember his high school football days, and threw a perfect long pass. The popcorn bucket flew through the air, leaving a trail of popcorn across the cars and the boardwalk. The seagulls followed, chasing the starchy feast.

Genardi had just gotten his car in gear when the popcorn bucket landed in the passenger seat of the convertible, followed by several large, hungry seagulls. He panicked and swerved, and the car jumped the curb and came to rest nose down in the bumper boat pool of the amusement park. The seagulls, having finished the popcorn, promptly flew away unharmed, unlike Genardi, who was nursing a large bump on his head.

"Call the cops, buddy," Michael said as he slowly made his way over to where Genardi had crashed. "I think our job here is done."

After Genardi had been arrested and the innards of the ATM had been taken away as evidence, Michael walked back toward KITT. The sun was setting and the other car owners were packing up and getting ready to head out.

"While I applaud your problem solving skills," KITT said dryly, "I must insist that you follow through on washing me as soon as possible."

Michael looked KITT over and let out a low whistle. When he'd thrown the popcorn, several of the excited seagulls had decided to lighten their load directly over KITT, including one spot dead center on the hood that looked more like it had come from a pterodactyl than an ordinary shore bird.

He patted a clean spot on KITT's passenger-side T-top. "Don't worry pal, we'll get you cleaned up in a jiffy."

"Oh no," KITT moaned.

"What?" Michael replied.

"I believe those are the car show judges headed this way."

Michael looked over his shoulder at a group of men with clipboards making their way slowly down the boardwalk.

"I think you're right."

"Can we leave? Our mission is complete," KITT said plaintively.

"Well, if it was up to me, we'd be on our way home," Michael said, "but we still can't get you out of here until the show is over and they start directing traffic to let the cars out."

The judges walked slowly past KITT and Michael. One leaned over, gesturing with his pencil at the splatters on KITT's hood and roof before making a note on his clipboard.

"This is humiliating," KITT complained.

Once the judges moved on past the Corvette, Michael turned back toward KITT. "Just a few more minutes, pal. They should start moving the cars out around five."

"I can't wait." KITT said.

As Michael started packing up his chair, which needed a scrubbing nearly as much as KITT, he saw one of the judges walking back in their direction, carrying a pair of ribbons. He handed the blue ribbon to the owner of the split-window Corvette in front of them.

"Don't start," Michael muttered under his breath.

After the judge finished shaking hands with the Corvette owner, he started walking over toward Michael and KITT. Michael set his chair down in KITT's trunk and turned to greet the judge.

"Mr. Knight?" the judge said, handing Michael the black ribbon. "On behalf of Ocean County Car Club, I'd like to present you with the Seagulls' Choice award."

"Thank you," Michael said, shaking the judge's hand. "It's been a pleasure to be here today."

"As much as I'd like to know a bit more about this beauty, the police are ready to start directing traffic so the cars can leave," the judge said. "You'd better finish packing up and get ready to go."

"Sure thing," Michael said, closing KITT's trunk and lowering himself into the driver's seat as the judge headed down the row of cars.

Once Michael had gotten ready to go and started KITT's engine, he took a moment to hang the ribbon from KITT's overhead console.

"Michael, you can't be serious," KITT complained.

"It's a major award, pal," Michael said jokingly.

"It is not! They gave first place to that-that defective thing in front of us," KITT replied. "I still do not understand why humans prize a car with an incomplete…."

Michael sat back and resigned himself to a long drive back to California.

#knight rider #kitt #michael knight

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jcmarchi · 8 months ago

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Interactive mouthpiece opens new opportunities for health data, assistive technology, and hands-free interactions

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/interactive-mouthpiece-opens-new-opportunities-for-health-data-assistive-technology-and-hands-free-interactions/

Interactive mouthpiece opens new opportunities for health data, assistive technology, and hands-free interactions

When you think about hands-free devices, you might picture Alexa and other voice-activated in-home assistants, Bluetooth earpieces, or asking Siri to make a phone call in your car. You might not imagine using your mouth to communicate with other devices like a computer or a phone remotely.

Thinking outside the box, MIT Computer Science and Artificial Intelligence Laboratory (CSAIL) and Aarhus University researchers have now engineered “MouthIO,” a dental brace that can be fabricated with sensors and feedback components to capture in-mouth interactions and data. This interactive wearable could eventually assist dentists and other doctors with collecting health data and help motor-impaired individuals interact with a phone, computer, or fitness tracker using their mouths.

Resembling an electronic retainer, MouthIO is a see-through brace that fits the specifications of your upper or lower set of teeth from a scan. The researchers created a plugin for the modeling software Blender to help users tailor the device to fit a dental scan, where you can then 3D print your design in dental resin. This computer-aided design tool allows users to digitally customize a panel (called PCB housing) on the side to integrate electronic components like batteries, sensors (including detectors for temperature and acceleration, as well as tongue-touch sensors), and actuators (like vibration motors and LEDs for feedback). You can also place small electronics outside of the PCB housing on individual teeth.

Play video

MouthIO: Fabricating Customizable Oral User Interfaces with Integrated Sensing and Actuation Video: MIT CSAIL

The active mouth

“The mouth is a really interesting place for an interactive wearable and can open up many opportunities, but has remained largely unexplored due to its complexity,” says senior author Michael Wessely, a former CSAIL postdoc and senior author on a paper about MouthIO who is now an assistant professor at Aarhus University. “This compact, humid environment has elaborate geometries, making it hard to build a wearable interface to place inside. With MouthIO, though, we’ve developed a new kind of device that’s comfortable, safe, and almost invisible to others. Dentists and other doctors are eager about MouthIO for its potential to provide new health insights, tracking things like teeth grinding and potentially bacteria in your saliva.”

The excitement for MouthIO’s potential in health monitoring stems from initial experiments. The team found that their device could track bruxism (the habit of grinding teeth) by embedding an accelerometer within the brace to track jaw movements. When attached to the lower set of teeth, MouthIO detected when users grind and bite, with the data charted to show how often users did each.

Wessely and his colleagues’ customizable brace could one day help users with motor impairments, too. The team connected small touchpads to MouthIO, helping detect when a user’s tongue taps their teeth. These interactions could be sent via Bluetooth to scroll across a webpage, for example, allowing the tongue to act as a “third hand” to open up a new avenue for hands-free interaction.

“MouthIO is a great example how miniature electronics now allow us to integrate sensing into a broad range of everyday interactions,” says study co-author Stefanie Mueller, the TIBCO Career Development Associate Professor in the MIT departments of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering and leader of the HCI Engineering Group at CSAIL. “I’m especially excited about the potential to help improve accessibility and track potential health issues among users.”

Molding and making MouthIO

To get a 3D model of your teeth, you can first create a physical impression and fill it with plaster. You can then scan your mold with a mobile app like Polycam and upload that to Blender. Using the researchers’ plugin within this program, you can clean up your dental scan to outline a precise brace design. Finally, you 3D print your digital creation in clear dental resin, where the electronic components can then be soldered on. Users can create a standard brace that covers their teeth, or opt for an “open-bite” design within their Blender plugin. The latter fits more like open-finger gloves, exposing the tips of your teeth, which helps users avoid lisping and talk naturally.

This “do it yourself” method costs roughly $15 to produce and takes two hours to be 3D-printed. MouthIO can also be fabricated with a more expensive, professional-level teeth scanner similar to what dentists and orthodontists use, which is faster and less labor-intensive.

Compared to its closed counterpart, which fully covers your teeth, the researchers view the open-bite design as a more comfortable option. The team preferred to use it for beverage monitoring experiments, where they fabricated a brace capable of alerting users when a drink was too hot. This iteration of MouthIO had a temperature sensor and a monitor embedded within the PCB housing that vibrated when a drink exceeded 65 degrees Celsius (or 149 degrees Fahrenheit). This could help individuals with mouth numbness better understand what they’re consuming.

In a user study, participants also preferred the open-bite version of MouthIO. “We found that our device could be suitable for everyday use in the future,” says study lead author and Aarhus University PhD student Yijing Jiang. “Since the tongue can touch the front teeth in our open-bite design, users don’t have a lisp. This made users feel more comfortable wearing the device during extended periods with breaks, similar to how people use retainers.”

The team’s initial findings indicate that MouthIO is a cost-effective, accessible, and customizable interface, and the team is working on a more long-term study to evaluate its viability further. They’re looking to improve its design, including experimenting with more flexible materials, and placing it in other parts of the mouth, like the cheek and the palate. Among these ideas, the researchers have already prototyped two new designs for MouthIO: a single-sided brace for even higher comfort when wearing MouthIO while also being fully invisible to others, and another fully capable of wireless charging and communication.

Jiang, Mueller, and Wessely’s co-authors include PhD student Julia Kleinau, master’s student Till Max Eckroth, and associate professor Eve Hoggan, all of Aarhus University. Their work was supported by a Novo Nordisk Foundation grant and was presented at ACM’s Symposium on User Interface Software and Technology.

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floatingcatacombs · 1 year ago

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The Little Guys Who Live on My Desk

12 Days of Aniblogging 2023, Day 11

Normally I take the 24th off, but I had a nice low-effort idea this year. Now that you’re trapped inside my post, I get to show you all the mecha girlies I keep in my work area to brighten my day. With any luck, this exercise will serve as a small window into my design taste. Pardon the dust.

GM Sniper II

I’m not a huge GM fan in general, but this variant is so cute. A lot of it comes from her head, which is very reminiscent of the AV-98 Ingram and even features its own cute antenna earpiece. I haven’t built any other early Universal Century kits, so I find the blockiness of the body and limbs extremely charming here.

Gundam Gremory

There’s ton to like with the Gremory. Her color scheme is one of the most unique I’ve ever seen on a Gundam, and using khaki for the legs as opposed to the usual white helps her really stand apart. The pink on her claws and chest fins and impish head really pops – she’s a nasty little femme, which is all the funnier considering that she’s piloted by a canonical butch lesbian from some IBO side manga. There’s a hood you can pull over her head, giving her something closer to a horned mono-eye look which I adore. And of course the heels and scythe and wings are as cunty as could be. She's all business.

The 30MMs

and tomoyo!

30MM is Bandai’s line of original mecha model kits, focusing on simple builds and customization through cross-compatibility with other 30MM and Gunpla. They got me hook, line, and sinker with these. My first build here was a white Cielnova, and I adored her beefiness and radar dish. Then I learned that there’s a line called Spinatia which are decidedly feminine but with just the right amount of abstraction about it. I grabbed an Assassin and a few miscellaneous parts, and ultimately decided to mix the two kits together. Now I’ve got a gunslinging magical girl robot with JNCOs, and a lanky evil borzoi. I love them. Next year’s 30MM lineup includes a mecha horse that could be used to make taurs, and Armored Core VI kits. I’m going to be feasting.

Narrative Gundam C-Packs

This one was built by my girlfriend, who insists that Gundam Narrative is a good movie. I can't argue with her because I haven't seen it, but I do love the titular mecha. We call her “smoked salmon girlie” on account of her lined pink psycho frame. I used to have my very first build, a Strike Freedom Gundam, in this spot, but we swapped it out with the Narrative Gundam while retaining the wings. I do love those wings… just looking at the MG-EX Strike Freedom makes me drool and if I was ever going to spend an exorbitant amount of money on a large model, it would be that one.

Maya Amano Nendoroid

Sometimes god intervenes and they make a figure of your waifu 23 years after the fact.

#12 days of anime #gunpla

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coleblackblood · 1 year ago

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Saving Me, Saving You

Fandom: Ashwood Grove (Will o' the Wisp Audios)

Rating: M

Summary: Lorelei could still remember the first time she saw Gorgeous - and the events which led up to their first date. AO3 Link

A/N: There's an extra warning about one of the scenes in this fic (regarding sexual harassment) - if that's something that bothers you, or if you want to know more/how to avoid it, I have detailed it more in the top Author's Notes on the AO3 page (since Tumblr formatting is garbage) Enjoy!

Lorelei could distinctly remember the day she first caught sight of her partner.

It had been her first time at their bar - joining a group of friends for a night out after a long week of cleaning up messes and customer service smiles.

They had been standing at the entrance: sharp red eyes casting an imposing glare over the crowd, arms crossed in the stereotypical Bouncer fashion as they checked IDs, listened to messages through their earpiece, and firmly turned away anyone who didn’t pass their silent “tests”.

One of her friends jokingly called them “the perfect defense against drunk morons”.

But the only thing Lorelei could think was: “Gorgeous.”

She grew nervous as they made it to the front of the line, and when she passed over her ID for inspection, their fingers brushed, making her pulse jump.

Gorgeous’ eyes narrowed, watching her closely for just a few moments too long.

She laughed about it now, explaining how she was so smitten at first glance that just being near them made her heart race.

At the time, though, she was worried about being mistaken for some underage teen trying to slip inside.

Probably not the most logical train of thought, all things considered.

It would have made more sense for them to think she was afraid of them - being a vampire, and all.

Still, they made it inside, and had a wonderful time: dancing, drinking, and swapping horror stories from their work once they ran out of gossip.

Yet the entire night, Lorelei couldn’t stop thinking about the bouncer - and how she might have an opportunity to see them again.

-----

The second time she went back to the bar, there was a new bouncer working the front. Lorelei tried to hide her disappointment as she went inside, debating on just going home.

But, she had come all this way, and already paid the entrance fee. Might as well at least have a drink before she went home, maybe dance to a song or two.

That would prove to be a mistake, unfortunately.

Shortly after Lorelei ordered her drink, grabbing a rare open seat at the bar, another patron shoved their way in between her and the Changeling seated next to her.

She could still smell the noxious cloud of crappy cologne that wafted over him, and see the shine glinting off his slicked back hair and knock-off designer sunglasses.

“Hey beautiful. What’s a pretty girl like you doing drinking alone?” He grinned widely at her, showing too many teeth to be anywhere near friendly.

“I’m just waiting for my friend to come back from the bathroom, actually.” Lorelei lied, donning her best “problematic customer” smile.

Even then, she knew it would be a bad idea to tell him she was alone.

“Oh really? Nice, nice. I love ladies who know how to have a good time.”

Before Lorelei could respond, he moved in, slipping an arm around her shoulders and crowding closer.

She swore she felt her skin crawl at his touch.

“Speaking of a good time, why don’t you and your friend join me and mine at our booth? I’ve got a couple of buddies visiting from out of town who could really use some more… delicate company, ya know?”

Her heart beginning to pound, Lorelei carefully shifted back a bit, trying to maintain her carefully crafted smile.

She couldn’t get out of her seat between him crowding her on one end and the cluster of people at her back. Not to mention, the bartender was down at the other end, not yet noticing her predicament.

Just keep calm. Wait for them to look back, and you can signal for help.

She really didn’t want to have to try and fight this creep.

“I’m sorry, but we’re actually going to be leaving soon. Maybe next time?” It was a strain keeping her voice light, pretending to be perfectly at ease.

“Oh really?” The creep laughed, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. “That’s perfect! We can all leave together. I’ve got plenty more drinks at my place-”

He paused, eyes leering as he took her in.

“And you like a girl who knows how to show a guy a good time.”

Lorelei could hear a ringing forming in her ears, mental alarm bells going off at every corner. Her eyes scanned the bar, falling on a discarded drink.

If she tossed it in his face, maybe she could-

“Hey.” A new voice interrupted the pair. The creep yelped as two strong hands abruptly grabbed him by the arm and the back of his neck, yanking him away by a good few feet.

Lorelei could have wept with relief.

Standing there, expression twisted with fury, was Gorgeous.

“You need to learn to respect a lady’s space.” They jerked their head towards a cluster of booths tucked away in the corner of the building. “She turned you down. Now get lost.”

Sputtering, the creep whirled to face them, hands balling into fists.

“Fuck off bloodsucker - I saw her first!”

The shift was almost immediate. Whereas before Gorgeous seemed angry, now a mask of cold fury seemed to slip over their face. They straightened up, stance wide as their arms crossed over their chest.

There was hardly any change to them physically, and yet they now seemed to tower over the creep. Every inch of them giving off an aura of “Fuck around and find out.”

It was honestly terrifying.

And yet Lorelei had never felt so safe.

“Women are not your toys. I gave you a chance to go back to your friends, and now I’m telling you: Leave, or I will throw you out. Decide. Now!”

The final command held an edge of power that made Lorelei’s breath hitch. She covered her mouth, hoping they hadn’t heard it.

Fuck. In any other situation…

Spitting curses, the man lunged at Gorgeous. Trying one last time to try and salvage his own ego. Someone nearby shouted, surprised.

It was a pitiful attempt, really.

In one quick move, Gorgeous had him on the floor, cursing and wailing as he was pinned.

“That hurts!” He screeched, head thrashing as he kicked his legs.

Clearly just putting on a show.

Too bad for him, no one was buying his pitiful performance.

Gorgeous ignored him, instead looking up at Lorelei. She hadn’t moved, frozen in place by the sight before her.

They looked so gentle now. Such a sharp contrast from before.

At some point during the tussle, their hair had fallen into their eyes, obscuring them a bit.

And yet that didn’t stop them from focusing entirely on her, clearly concerned.

“You want to press charges? He was harassing you, after all.” They asked.

After a moment, Lorelei shook her head.

She didn’t want to deal with him or anyone else tonight. She just wanted to go home.

An uncertain emotion passed over Gorgeous’ face, before they pushed it back, growing serious once more as they nodded.

“Right.” They turned their head toward the bartender, raising their voice to be heard over the music - as well as the growing crowd of people around them.

“Lenny!” The young man startled, scrambling over to the end of the bar.

“Yes? Sorry!” He looked between Lorelei, then Gorgeous, and finally landed on the creep. Seeming to grow more anxious as he realized what was going on.

“Keep an eye on her - get her a cab, or let her use your phone to call someone. Either way, I don’t want her alone while she’s waiting, got it?”

A beat passed, and the sternness faded, replaced with an uncomfortable sense of realization as they looked back to Lorelei.

“Sorry - is that okay with you? I normally wouldn’t insist, but given that he came with friends, it might be the safest option. You’re more than welcome to wait at the bar, if you prefer, or I can ask one of our female staff to give you a ride. Whatever makes you more comfortable.”

A bit surprised at the consideration, Lorelei nodded. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she was starting to feel shaky, and a bone-deep sense of weariness was settling into her limbs.

“I-It’s fine. I can get a friend to come pick me up.”

Gorgeous’ shoulders relaxed a fraction, although they still gave her a once-over before they nodded. “Understood.”

They hauled the creep to his feet just as one of the other bouncers made their way through the crowd, taking one of his arms to help drag him out.

Lorelei didn’t see any of them again before her friend arrived. True to their word, a woman wearing a t-shirt labeled “SECURITY” in bold letters escorted her out, and remained nearby until she and her friend drove off. Lorelei didn’t say much, just explained to her friend that there had been some creep and it was handled by the staff. She was fine.

A part of her was immensely grateful for Gorgeous stepping in when they had. She shuddered to think of what might have happened, otherwise.

Another, smaller part whispered at her dreams as the remnants of the fear died out, leaving her with nothing more than a racing heart… as well as memories of strong hands, and the comfort of their commanding presence.

------

Lorelei didn’t go back to the bar after that.

Part of it was the poor encounter, but - after thinking on it for a long while a few days after - a larger part of her had begun to feel awkward about going somewhere just for the sake of potentially talking to someone who worked there. Lorelei had been on the receiving end of such affections before - both positive and negative examples - and knew all too well how awkward it could get. Not to mention how easily “being polite” could be misconstrued for genuine interest.

So, Lorelei resolved to give up. She had more important things to focus on, after all.

Like getting through the rest of her shift without ending up in another “team meeting” with Poppy and her coworkers.

It was already set to be a trying day. The new girl who was supposed to be working reception hadn’t shown up that morning, and despite numerous calls and texts, hadn’t even bothered to give an indication when she would be showing up. If at all.

Which meant Lorelei was now spending the day fielding vampires to feeding rooms, assigning volunteers, and dealing with any and all front-facing complaints.

Plus all of the paperwork.

So much for those new donor interviews. I hope June can handle the extra workload without me.

The front doors of the VSCC opened, and Lorelei quickly straightened up, plastering on a cheerful smile.

Yet another complaint by Poppy: Not enough “pep” in their greetings.

Not to mention the reason the last receptionist had been fired.

“Good evening! How can I help - oh!” Lorelei’s eyes widened.

Standing before her, looking just as shocked as she felt, was none other than Gorgeous.

“Uh… hi.”

“Hi…”

Words, what were words?

And why did they seem so… sweet? Shy, even?

Come on, Lorelei, you literally saw them floor a man the other day for your sake.

Granted, it was a bit hot, but…

Okay, a lot hot. When taken out of context.

AND YOU’RE LITERALLY JUST STARTING AT THEM OH MY GOD SAY SOMETHING!!

“I’m glad you seem to be doing well.” Gorgeous said, breaking the increasingly awkward silence between them.

“Yes! Yes, I am - thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t say that properly before, it was just-” Lorelei shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

Oh god she was never this bad with people. Especially not clients.

“No, please - don’t apologize. I was just doing my job.” Gorgeous’ expression lightened - and oh no they had a really sweet smile!

“Honestly, I apologize for my insistent behavior, beforehand.” They glanced around, seeming to come to a conclusion, and winced. “And for bringing up such a thing while you are obviously working.”

“No, no, you’re completely fine. Honestly you’ve been very considerate, so please - don’t worry about it.” Lorelei smiled - a genuine one this time.

The doors to the building slid open once more as another vampire left, catching her attention, and Lorelei straightened up a bit, clearing her throat.

“You were right though - I am still working. And I’m sure you had a reason for coming in today, right? Did you have an appointment with one of our volunteers?”

Gorgeous seemed to relax at her words, shoulders falling and a clear sense of relief shining in their red eyes.

“Sort of. A friend recommended this facility to me, and I’ve already completed part of the process. However there was some sort of issue with getting the paperwork - a corrupted file, I believe? So I was told to come finish it today, and then I would be assigned a volunteer.”

Lorelei had a vague memory of June cursing at her computer last week when she came in for her shift - something about how the IT guys had changed something in the system, and caused multiple client files to become damaged. At the time, she had joined her in the frustrations, even if she didn’t entirely understand what happened: having to call and explain the situation to multiple people, and essentially re-do their entire interview and assignment process had been a nightmare to handle.

Right now though? She was starting to feel a bit grateful for the ordeal.

“I can certainly help you with that! Just one second.” Lorelei’s fingers tapped across the keyboard, making her way through the system with a skilled precision.

“Looks like you just need to fill out the final consent forms. Would you be comfortable filling them out here, or would you prefer to have a private room to do so?” She asked, looking up at them.

Some vampires were discomforted by the idea of someone potentially seeing even a hint of their private information - understandable when dealing with clientele with heightened senses - so they made a point of going over most of the paperwork with one of the VSCC’s employees, as a general rule, with an option of doing so alone if they wished.

“Would you be able to assist if I had any questions?” Gorgeous asked.

“Of course!” Lorelei beamed. “I actually usually assist with the interviews and new arrivals paperwork, so I’m very familiar with the process.”

Gorgeous smiled again, and Lorelei swore she felt her heart skip a beat.

Damn it!

“It seems I’m in good hands then.”

Trying not to think about how the feeling had been very much mutual before, Lorelei passed over the paperwork and a pen, and settled back in to review some of the appointments for the day, while Gorgeous grabbed a seat in their waiting area.

It served as a good distraction from admiring how good they looked even from a side profile - or the cute way their brow furrowed as they concentrated.

Focus.

Lorelei hummed to herself as she scanned over her screen. It looked like she had a fairly quiet shift ahead of her: just a handful of clients coming in for scheduled feedings tonight, including Gorgeous themself, and all the current volunteers were regulars who had been vetted and donated multiple times in the past, if she remembered correctly.

“Oh no.” One name stuck out among the rest, sending a sense of dread down Lorelei’s spine.

Why her?

Gorgeous suddenly paused in their writing, glancing up in her direction. Lorelei fought back a blush, smiling and waving in what she hoped was a friendly manner. They returned her smile, even if it didn’t quite reach their eyes, and focused once more on their paperwork.

Maybe she would cancel?

Granted she had yet to do so once in her entire time volunteering there - no matter how many employees and clients prayed for otherwise.

The doors opened, and a choking cloud of tropical-scented air rolled throughout the lobby. Lorelei stifled a grimace, and saw Gorgeous abruptly freeze, one hand shifting to their shirt collar before they thought better of it, stiffly lowering their hand once more.

Honestly, Lorelei wouldn’t have blamed them if they had followed through. As it was, she was pretty sure they were actively avoiding breathing - even more so than vampires usually did.

Pineapple Lady had arrived.

“G-Good evening!” Lorelei forced a smile as the woman approached the counter, trying not to gag as the stench of pineapple grew ever stronger.

There had been a time she enjoyed the scent.

Now she couldn’t so much as see a picture of the fruit without thinking of this woman.

“Good evening~” The woman practically sang as she plopped down her oversized purse on the counter. Several pens and a stack of business cards were sent scattering over the reception desk, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Lorelei tried not to twitch.

“I’m here for my very important donor appointment.” Pineapple Lady gestured with one heavily ringed hand, the overhead lights catching on every massive gem and sending blinding rays in every direction. “You know, I have been coming here for several months now, and I’ve never missed an appointment! Honestly, you’re quite lucky to have someone as generous and considerate of the poor, impoverished vampire community as I am!”

And yet, she didn’t have the common sense needed to not consume jumbo cans of pineapple juice before coming to donate.

Or not wearing something that could blind their clients with an errant gesture.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much she could do now, and so Lorelei made a mental note to have whoever handled her next appointment to bring these issues up again. Before she was assigned to anyone.

In the meantime, she had to play nice.

“We’re very grateful for your generosity, ma’am!”

Fortunately (or not), Pineapple Lady didn’t seem to catch on to the judgements Lorelei was silently casting, instead making a show of leaning over the desk - further shoving her oversized bag towards the edge, closer to Lorelei - and giving the younger woman a very wide view down the front of her top.

Seriously? Did she take an open-neck shirt and just rip out the remaining collar?

Apparently their discussion on how their services didn’t involve biting from the neck - and so she didn’t need to wear a shirt that fully exposed it - had also not been heeded.

“Tell me something, Laura-” Seriously? She was literally wearing a name tag. “Is that lovely specimen in the corner over there going to be the one biting me today? Because I would very much appreciate it.”

Unbeknownst to them, Gorgeous and Lorelei stiffened at the same time.

Oh no .

Pineapple Lady was - for once - completely right. Most of the volunteers were assigned based on availability, which meant as of right now, she was the next one up.

No. Absolutely not.

This was not a matter of jealousy. This was a matter of basic decency.

Okay fine, maybe a little bit of it was jealousy, but Lorelei was not going to acknowledge that right now.

Gorgeous had been kind to Lorelei. Looked out for her. Showed consideration at every given opportunity.

They didn’t deserve to be stuck with the woman who moaned every time she got fed from!

Lorelei just needed to come up with an excuse…

“Hey Lore, I just wanted to let you know that our next donor is ready to go. I’ve got them set up in room-”

Like an angel from the shadows, June appeared from the back of the building. Spotting the now-infamous Pineapple Lady standing at the front desk, Lorelei’s coworker paused, looking between them both.

“Is everything all right?” She asked.

Lorelei seized her chance.

“Yes! Everything’s fine.” Turning to Pineapple Lady, Lorelei plastered on a fake, sympathetic smile.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, but as someone who has donated so often before, I’m sure you understand that they are preparation procedures that must be completed before we can assign you to anyone.”

Before she could argue, Lorelei turned back to her coworker.

“June, do you mind escorting her to an open feeding room? I just need to make sure this client’s paperwork is finalized, and then I can send them back with the donor you just mentioned.”

Looking none too happy to be stuck with Pineapple Lady, but knowing as well as Lorelei did what making a scene in the front of the office would mean for the two of them, June nodded. Though not before casting a glance between Lorelei and Gorgeous, first - and causing Lorelei to realize that the vampire had started watching her once more.

Though they were quick to look away when June made eye contact with them.

Understandable, really. Lorelei had yet to meet anyone who could stand up to June’s sharp gaze.

“I’m happy to assist you, ma’am! Please, follow me.” June chirped, filled with the same false cheer that Lorelei herself had put on.

Casting one final glance between the two of them - and giving Lorelei a distinctive “You owe me” look as Pineapple Lady walked ahead - the two disappeared into the back. Once more leaving Lorelei and Gorgeous alone together.

A sigh of relief escaped Lorelei before she could stop it, followed by a flush of heat spreading across her face when she heard Gorgeous laugh.

“I’m inclined to agree.” They stood up, wandering over with paperwork in hand.

“I owe you my thanks.” They continued, pausing in front of her desk. “Truth be told, I do not think I would have been able to handle being in her presence for much longer.”

“Oh, no - honestly I’m sorry you had to encounter her at all! Especially during your first time here.”

Gorgeous nodded, understanding reflected in their eyes. “I take it she’s a… problematic regular, so to speak?”

Lorelei scoffed slightly, relaxing a bit.

Something about their presence just put her at ease.

“That’s putting it lightly. Let’s just say that you would not be the first to have a complaint about her.”

Gorgeous’ eyebrows raised, a slight smile tugging at the corner of their mouth. “Really?”

They paused, seeming to consider then:

“Is it the uh - scent?” They ran a hand through their hair. “I don’t mean to be rude, and obviously my sense of smell is far stronger than a human’s but… is she fond of pineapple, by chance?”

Did she want to try explaining why pineapple was chosen?

Probably not the best option for their first real conversation.

“You are correct.” Lorelei shook her head, smiling ruefully. “To be fair, she’s not the only one we’ve had this issue with before - I can’t tell you how many lectures I’ve heard and given about not wearing perfumes or soaps that smell too strong. Not that it’s a problem to follow, of course - we are a service dedicated to vampires after all, and I truly believe the extra effort is worth it. But…”

Lorelei laughed a bit.

“Between you and me? There are still days I worry about becoming the next one to receive a warning. I’d hate to make someone uncomfortable just because I wasn’t careful about how much perfume I put on before my shift.”

Gorgeous chuckled. “I hardly think you need to worry about that. Personally, I think you smell delightful.”

A beat of silence passed between them. Lorelei blushed, surprised by the sudden compliment, whereas Gorgeous seemed to realize what they had just said, eyes squeezing shut.

“And that… was entirely inappropriate, given - as we have established - you are at work. I apologize.”

“You’re fine!” Lorelei blurted. Blushing a bit deeper, she cleared her throat.

Come on, keep it together.

“I mean - I don’t mind. Thank you for the compliment.” She smiled at them, Gorgeous seeming to relax a fraction at her reassurance.

“Honestly, it should be me who is thanking you. After all, you saved me from having to figure out how to feed without inhaling.” Their eyes glanced towards the doors which led toward the feeding rooms. “Among other things.”

Lorelei wondered if they could hear Pineapple Lady moaning.

For their sake, she hoped not.

She needed to let them leave. June would be getting suspicious before long, and it didn’t look good to have a donor waiting, either.

But at the same time… she didn’t want them to. Lorelei liked talking to Gorgeous. It was interesting seeing this shyer, almost clumsy side, and how it contrasted with the stern, protective aggression she had seen the other night.

It made her wonder just how much of it was the job - and how much of it was a part of them.

And going by how they kept hesitating by the front desk, Gorgeous wasn’t eager to leave, either.

Screw it.

“Listen,” Lorelei spoke up once more. Gorgeous seemed to snap to, focusing on her with such a quick, rapt attention that her heartbeat picked up a bit.

God, she was already enjoying having their attention on her way too much.

“I know you said I don’t need to thank you for before, but I would still like to. Maybe by say - taking you out for coffee?”

Her smile took on a mischievous edge.

“Somewhere away from both of our jobs - where you could tell me some more of those compliments?”

Gorgeous looked surprised, eyes wide and lips partly slightly in shock. Then, slowly, a wide smile spread across their face.

“I would like that very much.”

Yes!

Snatching a pad of sticky notes, as well as one of the still-scattered pens, Lorelei hurriedly jotted down a quick message, passing it over. As Gorgeous took it from her, their fingers brushed together, and she swore she felt a spark jolt once more between them.

And judging by the sharp breath from someone who most definitely didn’t need to breathe - so had Gorgeous.

“My phone number.” Lorelei explained. “After you’re done with your feeding, you can shoot me a text, and we can arrange the date?”

Gorgeous nodded, carefully tucking the slip of paper away. “Sounds perfect.”

“Oh! I just realized - we never really formally introduced ourselves, did we?” Lorelei stuck out her hand.

“I’m Lorelei Dump - though most people call me Lore.”

She grinned a bit.

“Do you have a name, or should I just keep thinking of you as “Gorgeous”?”

Something amused and strong burned in Gorgeous’ eyes as they took her hand. Only rather than shake it, as she expected, they instead carefully turned her hand around, pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

“I suppose you’ll find out on our date - won’t you?”

Smirking softly, Gorgeous released her hand, and stepped away, moving toward the back doors.

“Until we speak again, my lovely Lore.”

Lorelei watched them disappear into the hallway. Her hand tingled with the cool sensation their mouth had left… as did her mind, thinking about what those lips may feel like on her own, later.

#my fics #ashwood grove #will o the wisp audios #lorelei dump #AG Gorgeous #Gorgeous drinks 'respect women' juice #Pineapple Lady is several Karens merged into one

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