“Wait, what? Why? …You know what, no, don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know what went through your mind unless you expect Jack of all people to come over and use it.”

Jack, the poor thing wasn’t built to play on a pole, and really, as sexy as it would be, the young commander didn’t want to deal with a broken ankle.

MARKIPLIER’S FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY’S SERIES sentence starters. | Accepting

Send “ !!! ” for my muse’s reaction to yours kissing them in the middle of a battle. | Accepting

     Somewhere along the way he’d lost the mask. It was an uncommon occurrence, and one he despised. Their enemies had flinched long enough for the wraith to grab what little upper hand was offered to him. Black smoke bled from gunshot wounds he’d kept taking, but a monster feared no death.

     That was the reasoning he put in his head for constantly stepping out into danger to take hits that Gabriel could have taken otherwise. Maybe it’s too much, but it was ingrained in Reaper’s head. What he deemed his was his and no one touched it. No one got in the way. These people? In the way. Too many surrounded, he didn’t like it. 

     “Get down and stay down.” 

     His orders were growled, as he grabbed Gabriel’s shoulder and all but threw him down behind the nearest piece of rubble Reaper could consider safe. Guns were thrown, his hands rose up, and the shadows curled around him. Two new guns formed in hand, his feet moved into place, and in a moment the smoke burst out and the sound of frantic gun fire was heard amid the deadly shots from the Hellfire shotguns.

     Reapers dance was over almost as quickly as it had begun, the clattering of the shotguns dropping signifying the end as he fought to keep balance, to keep form. Corpses aligned with his sight, and the grin across his face broke out. Reinforcements were drawing near, he’d need some of their life force to continue. He made to move, but found himself stopped by someone grabbing his arm. He assisted them by spinning on his heel before they needed to spin him around, and in a second he found himself pulled close and his lips captured. 

     Eyes wide in near complete shock (and maybe some disbelief), he stood completely still. Unsure of what to do about it. When Gabriel pulled away, all that was left standing there was a rather dumbfounded looking Reaper. It was only when the Commander set to readying his guns did the stunned wraith recover his composure. Right, right. Battle. There’d be time to question Gabriel’s actions later. Time to think about it later. 

First Three In My Inbox Get Kisses | 3/3

     He’s getting used to it.

     Being around Gabriel. Calling the man Gabriel. Abandoning the name himself. It’s a cycle he’s finding himself easily fitting into. Hell, he’s even started to steal Gabriel’s clothes. Wear them around. The only difference is he keeps the mask on. He hates everyone else seeing his face; aside from Gabriel. 

     Since when did his life get so… self-centric? 

     Reaper can hardly bring himself to care about it as he watches Gabriel work. Reaper’s mask is set aside, he doesn’t need it here. Red eyes stare without a moments break, the wraith leaning over the back of a chair he’d pulled up. He knows Gabriel is aware of him staring; he can see it. He knows he’s bothering him a little, throwing off his concentration. Reaper thinks it’s hilarious. 

     When Gabriel finally dares to flick his gaze up, does the wraith smirk. He’s not a responsible man, not like the Commander has to be. It’s easy to wraith through the chair (lazy ghost that he is) and materialize fully at the desk. His hands slam on it, causing Gabriel to put his pen down and look properly at Reaper, who takes the opportunity to lean forward and press his lips firmly up against the Commanders. 

     He lingers purposefully, before he pulls back, and takes his hands off the desk, laughter filtering from him. He loved to play these games; loved to make the attempt to get back at Gabriel in any way he could. It was awfully self indulgent (in more ways than one) to pick it up in the form of kissing him, but to Reaper? It worked best.

Send ‘What’s Our Song’ for lyrics from 3 songs that I think fit our characters | Accepting

We will not be broken this timeWe will force the whole world to testify

Savor the addictionSavor the affliction, savor me

Reaper’s giving out New Years kisses if you ask him | Accepting

     “Ah? Again? Greedy, aren’t you?”

     He’d make the narcissistic comment, but that would also reflect on him, so he’s forced to bite his tongue on that one. He’s definitely not about to tell Gabriel no, but there’s also no way he’ll admit a second one? He totally wanted it. 

     This time he wants to play a little, bringing one of his clawed hands up to Gabriel’s cheek in that oddly gentle gesture. Something he normally never does; no one thinks he has the capability to. Slowly he leans himself forward again, his thumb moving to rest on Gabriel’s lower lip as Reaper pauses inches away from his target. 

     “Suppose it wouldn’t be too forward to say I liked that, would it?” 

     That’s all that he says before he moves his hand around to the back of Gabriel’s head to hold him while pressing his lips once again to Gabriel’s. He’s a little more demanding with the force this time, his free arm even moving around behind Gabriel; perhaps it’s going a bit too far, but hell. Ask and you shall receive were his own words, and he won’t go back on them. 

     He pulls away when he knows there’s a need for air for Gabriel, a smirk persisting on Reaper’s face as he takes the moment to simply take in the sight. There’s a slight incline of his head, and then the chuckle passes him.