#Emergency Vehicle Training

[corporate-driver-training]

Emergency Vehicle Training

Corporate Driver Training Australia offers comprehensive Emergency Vehicle Training, designed to equip drivers with the essential skills and knowledge to safely and effectively operate emergency vehicles in high-pressure situations.

[professor-hershel-gayton]

hershel do you like planes??????

I like your planes though! I’ve always enjoyed the idea of putting models together, but unfortunately I rarely have the time.

[sturgeonz]

i love hearing trains in the distance. it seems like it'd be annoying but from a certain distance the rumble is calming and the horns sound like angels

[santong]

Will Artificial Intelligence Replace Most Jobs

Artificial intelligence (AI) has become a ubiquitous term, woven into the fabric of our daily lives. From the moment we wake up to a smart alarm on an AI-powered phone to the personalized recommendations on our favorite streaming service, AI’s influence is undeniable. But perhaps the most significant question surrounding AI is its impact on the future of work. Will AI replace most jobs, leaving a…

[constructionsafetynetwork]

Safety in Maritime Construction Projects

Safety in maritime construction projects is a critical concern that encompasses unique environmental, logistical, and operational challenges. This article aims to shed light on the specific safety measures required in maritime construction, highlighting why it’s crucial to address these distinct aspects for the successful completion of projects. Unique Risks in Maritime Construction In maritime…

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: Say Don't Go

Request: Anonymous asked: “​​I think your writing is one of the best on here for Tyler <3 i’d love to read your take on the reader sticking out a big tornado with Tyler, i guess similar to the rodeo scene in the movie with Kate but i’d like to read your own take on him just comforting the reader and making sure they get through it <3”

Word count: 3.7k 

Warnings: Blood & injury mention, tornado, hurt / comfort

A/N: thank you so so much for the kind words :((( absolutely loving these requests & all of the comments / replies to my recent tyler fics. please keep them coming!!

 “You could’ve stayed home if you didn’t want to come,” you said to Tyler frustratedly. 

“It’s not that I didn’t want to come,” he replied, trailing behind you as you ventured into another store. “I just didn’t realize that picking up a birthday gift was going to entail being at the mall ‘til sun down.”

“I told you I didn’t have anything picked out and that I’d probably have to look around–” you reminded him, stopping in your tracks so that you could turn to face him. 

Tyler put his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’ll shut up.”

As soon as he backed down, your gaze immediately softened. “Well I don’t want you to be miserable,” you said as you crossed your arms. 

The corner of Tyler’s lip tugged upward in a cheeky grin. “Now how could I ever be miserable when I’m spendin’ time with you?” 

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face. “Yeah, whatever,” you said with a smirk. “Why don’t you head to the food court? Once I finish up, I’ll come find you.”

He tilted his head to the side, like a puppy looking for permission. “You sure?” 

You nodded, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder. “Yeah, of course. Just, don’t get ice cream without me,” you warned.

Tyler took a step forward so that you were now only inches apart. You felt his hand rest on the small of your back before he pulled you closer and leaned forward. The second that you felt his lips press against yours in a soft, gentle kiss, all of the annoyance and frustration you’d previously felt melted away in the blink of an eye. Even though you and Tyler had been together for nearly two years now, he still had that kind of effect on you. 

When he stepped away, a smile lingered on his lips. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured you. 

You kept your eyes trained on the back of his head as he made his way from the store, because the truth was– even when he pissed you off, you loved him more than you’d ever loved anything. 

Only when he was out of sight did you finally turn and resume your search. As much as you loved spending time with Tyler, you had to admit it was easier to shop around without him constantly moaning and groaning the entire time. 

You settled into the silence, taking your time as you made your way through the store. After inspecting all of the assorted knick knacks and smelling nearly every candle in the place, you finally settled on a necklace for your mom’s upcoming birthday. 

Once you’d paid, you tucked the jewelry box inside your bag and began making your way out of the store, planning to head straight for the food court to find Tyler. 

Except the second you stepped out of the store, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the loud sound of cracking thunder above. It was close– enough so the building trembled. You watched as other shoppers stopped in their tracks too. 

And then, to your absolute dismay, you heard the emergency alert systems on everyone’s phones start going off in unison. 

You pulled yours out of your pocket and read the message flashing across your screen. 

National Weather Service: TORNADO WARNING in this area until 8:30 PM CDT. Take shelter now in a basement or an interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building. If you are outdoors, in a mobile home, or in a vehicle, move to the closest substantial shelter and protect yourself from flying debris. Check media for more information. 

You swallowed thickly before glancing up from your phone. Gradually, others began doing the same. Then, as soon as everyone had read the warning and realized what was going on, panic ensued. 

People began running in all directions– pushing others aside and rushing towards exits. You tried your best to remain calm, but you couldn’t ignore the fear spreading through you. 

Instantly, your eyes began scanning the crowd as you instinctively began looking for Tyler.  

He’ll come for you, you thought. Tyler will come. 

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t meet him halfway. You tried to keep close to the wall to prevent being crushed in the crowd– unfortunately for you though, other people had the same idea. As hard as you tried to keep to the side, soon, you were sucked right into the mass of people. The only thing you could do was move with them and try desperately to stay on your feet as everyone pushed and shoved their way around you. 

Eventually, you dared to careen your neck up and scan for him. At first, all you saw was chaos– but people all seemed to be moving in the same direction now. You watched as parents picked up their children and spouses grabbed each other’s hands. Employees ran out of stores and customers dropped bags. 

It took a few minutes, but eventually, you spotted a familiar tuft of sandy brown hair– the only person in eyesight moving against the crowd.

“Tyler!” you screamed. 

He reacted to your voice, his head turning in the direction he thought it was coming from. 

“Tyler!” you yelled again. 

This time, his eyes landed right on yours. 

But before you could even sigh the breath of relief that was sitting in your chest, you felt something, or rather someone jab into your side. The force was enough to make you stumble on your feet and fall to the ground with a thud. People continued rushing by– feet stepping on you, knees colliding into your back. At one point, you tried to place your hand on the floor to give yourself enough leverage to stand up, but as soon as you did, a white converse stomped right on your fingers, causing you to hiss out in pain. 

Panic began creeping up your throat– making it harder to breathe, let alone think of a plan. A dark cloud began clouding your vision, numbing your senses to what was happening around you. Until suddenly, you heard your name being called. The sound broke through the haze. Before you could react, you felt two hands sliding underneath your armpits from behind. And suddenly, you were being hoisted up from the ground. 

“I got you,” Tyler’s voice said in your ear. You didn’t even get a chance to turn and look at him before he was pushing you forward. “We gotta move.” 

Thankfully, his grip under your arms never faltered, otherwise you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to keep up. But eventually, Tyler pushed you towards the outer edge of the busy mall hallway. Once you were no longer in danger of being flattened by the crowd, he spun you around– hands clutching your shoulders tightly while he blocked the remaining traffic from reaching you. 

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head. At least you didn’t think you were… But when you glanced down at yourself, you quickly realized why Tyler even asked. Your button down shirt was ripped– presumably from being grabbed, and the tank top beneath it had a few spots of blood splattered across the fabric. You weren’t even sure where it came from. 

“We gotta go,” Tyler said urgently.  

“The shelter–” you began, but Tyler shook his head. 

“Everyone’s heading that way, it’ll be full by now. Plus, we don’t have time– I looked outside and… it’s close.”

“What do we do?” you asked, voice trembling with fear. 

Tyler let his arms fall from your shoulders and instead grabbed onto one of your hands. He gave it a reassuring squeeze before nodding in the opposite direction of where everyone else was running. 

“The stairwell,” he said. 

You nodded shakily. “Okay.”

With that, Tyler was off– weaving his way in and out of the crowd. Luckily, it had thinned out dramatically– most people heading towards the parking lot or the storm shelter on the other side of the mall. Once you broke away from the thickest part of the crowd, Tyler’s grip loosened slightly on your hand. 

“C’mon,” he urged, leading you around the corner. At the very end of the hallway was the door that led to the stairwell. 

But you only made it a few feet down the hallway before you felt the floor shake beneath your feet. Only moments after, there was a loud bang just as a chunk of the roof was being ripped off the building. 

“Tyler–” you yelled. 

“Keep going,” he pleaded. 

With part of the roof separated, you could hear the winds whipping outside more clearly. The sound was deafening, like a freight train barrelling right for you. 

But even above the raging winds– you heard the cries of someone nearby. You looked to your left to see a mother and her child huddled underneath a display booth. 

“Tyler,” you said again, tugging on his arm. 

He slowed down, turning towards where your eyes were fixated. He hesitated, clearly conflicted on what to do. 

“We have to help them,” you said. 

His eyes scanned yours desperately before he nodded. “Wait here,” he said, releasing your hand. 

You watched as Tyler crossed the hall– trying to avoid the debris now falling from the roof. He called something out to the woman, but you couldn’t hear above the sound of the wind. It was enough to catch her attention though, because soon she was passing her son to Tyler. The poor boy couldn’t have been older than five or six. Tyler pulled him to his side with ease before reaching his other arm out and helping the mother up from underneath the table. 

Once she was on her feet, Tyler passed her back her son and pointed towards where you stood against the wall. She tucked her son’s head against her chest and began hurrying forward– Tyler at her heels as they fought against the increasing winds. 

“Take my hand,” you yelled. With the arm she wasn’t using to support her son, she reached for you. 

You grasped onto her and helped pull her against the wall. 

“Go to the stairwell,” you explained. “Get underneath them, as low as you can.”

She nodded, unshed tears glistening in her eyes before she began heading down the hall. 

Just then, you heard a deafening crack. You turned to see another piece of the roof being pulled off– causing large chunks of debris to begin falling. 

“Get down!” you heard Tyler holler. Using your arm, you shielded your head the best you could and shrank to the floor as the largest piece fell. A cloud of dust enveloped you as soon as it landed and you felt small pieces of debris bouncing against your skin– After a brief moment, you dared to look up. 

But Tyler was no longer standing in front of you. 

“Tyler!” you screamed. Without thinking, you moved forward, trying your best to stay low. But despite your best efforts, you were still caught off guard by the piece of metal that blew past your head, slicing open your skin– “Fuck!” you yelled, grabbing at your temple. When you pulled your hand away, your fingers were coated in a thick, crimson liquid. 

“Tyler!” you yelled again, voice growing increasingly frantic. 

“I’m here–” you heard him yell back, causing your shoulders to deflate slightly. As you crawled around the largest pile of debris, you saw him on the ground, moving a chunk of roofing off his foot. His eyes met yours, a flash of concern crossing his face when he saw your head. “You gotta get to the stairs–”

“No, no, no. Not without you,” you shook your head, continuing to move towards him as you felt the blood trickle down the side of your face. 

“The storm’s here– you gotta go. You gotta take cover,” he pleaded. 

“I’m not leaving you–” you cried, unable to control the tears burning behind your eyes. As they fell down your cheek, they mixed with the blood from your temple. Once you were crouched beside him, you used what little strength you had left to Tyler’s hand and pull him from the small pile of rubble. 

When you looked at the short distance between yourselves and the staircase door– you were surprised to see the woman, propping it open with her body and waving towards the two of you to hurry up. 

“Move–” Tyler encouraged, pushing you against the wind. “Go, go, go–”

You army-crawled forward, wincing as more debris nicked your skin. But finally– you reached the door. Tyler moved his hand to your waist and guided you towards the staircase. 

The woman reached for her son, who was crouched low in the corner. Meanwhile, Tyler moved you towards one of the railings. 

“Hold on to this–” he instructed. You wound your arms around the fixture.

"Don't go–" you begged.

But immediately after, you felt the warmth from his body wrap around you. You looked up and saw Tyler shielding your body with his own– his hands gripping the part of the railing just above yours.

“I got you,” he promised. “We’re gonna be okay, I got you,” he repeated. But soon his voice was swept away by the sound of the storm. 

The winds grew even louder as the tornado moved closer– the noise of various chunks of debris slamming into the ground around you made you shake. You squeezed your eyes shut– hoping and praying to whatever God might be out there that Tyler was right and you’d both be okay…

You weren’t sure how long the storm raged on. It felt like hours, although you knew that couldn't be right. Eventually though, the winds died down. In their absence, you could hear the sound of the woman comforting her son, along with Tyler’s labored breathing above you. 

With a shaky hand, you reached behind you– like you didn’t quite trust that he was still there. You felt the fabric of his jeans beneath your palm and sighed out the choppy breath that had been lodged in your throat. 

“Tyler,” you heaved pathetically, voice cracking. 

“I’m here,” he gasped, voice equally shaky as he gasped for air. “I got you.”

Nodding, you brushed your hair from your sweaty face and felt Tyler shift. Following his lead, you turned towards him. As soon as your eyes landed on him– hunched over and breathing like he’d just run five miles, you let out a choked sob. 

“Are you okay?” he panted.

“Tyler–” was all you could manage to blurt out. 

A calloused hand cupped your face– thumb trailing along your hairline. You winced when his thumb passed over a sensitive spot on your head from where you’d been hit earlier. “You’re okay,” he soothed. “We’ll get it checked out.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch as you desperately craved comfort from him. Seemingly picking up on your need, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his chest. “We’re okay,” he repeated, hand moving to cup the back of your neck. You let your eyes fall shut– inhaling the scent of his T-shirt. Even though he was coated in sweat and dust, he still smelled so comforting and familiar. 

He planted a kiss on top of your head before panting, “We gotta get out of here.”

You nodded, and forced yourself to pull away from him. Tyler helped you to your feet, eyes studying to make sure you were steady before he turned towards the woman. 

“You guys okay?” he asked. 

She nodded, clutching tightly to her son, who was still in her arms. 

“Alright, c’mon– be careful where you step,” he said, helping them out from the staircase. Tyler led them past you and into the hall before coming back for you. 

You desperately tried to steady your shaking legs. You were wobbly on your feet, but with Tyler’s help, you managed to maneuver your way out from underneath the staircase. 

As soon as you were back in the hall, your breath caught in your throat at the sight. The entire mall was destroyed– the roof had caved in, creating mounds of rubble everywhere you looked. There was dust all over– and no one else in sight. 

“Tyler–” you croaked again. His name seemed to be the only words you were able to form in your shock. 

“C’mon,” he urged gently, pulling you along. 

You let him lead the way, eyes scanning the debris hopelessly. You stopped in your tracks the moment you saw the first body– it was a woman, probably in her late twenties, just like you. She had a mound of tile stacked on top of her and a trail of blood soaking through her yellow sweater. Her eyes were still open– like they were frozen in fear. 

“Don’t look,” Tyler’s voice cut through the fog. 

He put his body between you and her and placed his hands on both sides of your face, forcing your gaze to meet his. 

“Sh– she’s dead,” you trembled. 

Tyler nodded solemnly. “I know,” he nodded. “Don’t look, okay? Just keep your eyes on me.”

Tyler wound his arm around your shoulders and tugged you into his side. With his fingers digging into the fleshy part of your hip, he led you forward, bearing the majority of your weight. Eventually, he managed to lead you all out of the rubble of the mall. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Tyler turned and asked the woman again. She nodded before thanking him and heading off in the direction of an ambulance. 

Tyler seemed to have something similar in mind. 

“I want to go home,” you insisted. 

But Tyler shook his head. “You need to get your head checked out first.”

“Tyler, please–” you whimpered. 

He glanced down at you– seemingly noticing the way your voice cracked. His face softened the moment he saw the tears sliding down your cheeks. 

“Hey–” he said gently. “Baby, you’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I just want to go home,” you repeated. 

“I know, baby. I know,” he soothed. “But your head– I really want them to take a look. Then we can go home.” 

You sunk your teeth into your lower lip. After a moment, you nodded defeatedly and let Tyler lead you the rest of the way to one of the many ambulances parked near what was left of the mall. 

The paramedic who got to you first was a middle aged man with a kind smile. He told you how brave you were as he shined a flashlight in your eyes, checking your pupils. 

When he moved to the wound on your temple, now coating your entire hairline in gooey blood, you grimaced. 

“This is gonna need a few stitches,” he said after inspecting it. 

Tyler sat beside you and let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you needed while the paramedic stitched you up. He applied a local anesthetic but you felt every second of the needle threading through your skin. 

You held onto Tyler like your life depended on it, trying to allow his words of affirmation and comfort to consume you. 

“Almost done,” the paramedic said before clipping the remainder of the thread. He placed a clean bandage on the side of your head and offered you a soft smile. “You did great,” he told you. 

Although you were feeling detached from just about everything right now, you nodded in response before letting Tyler pull you to your feet. 

“Think you can walk?” he asked. 

You nodded again, although you didn’t entirely hear him. 

“The parking garage collapsed– but Boone’s on his way. He’s gonna give us a ride home.”

“Okay,” you mumbled softly, letting yourself melt into Tyler’s side again. 

The road where you met Boone was a short walk, and you were thankfully starting to get feeling back in your legs. But even still, you let Tyler support the majority of your weight as he guided you towards Boone’s familiar, beat up truck. Tyler held open the door and helped you climb inside.

“Christ–” Boone said, turning in the driver’s seat to get a good look at you. 

“She’s okay,” Tyler answered, sliding into the backseat beside you. Although he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Boone. 

“How the hell did you guys make it through that?” Boone asked as he surveyed the destruction around you. You forced yourself not to look. Instead, you rested your head against Tyler’s shoulder. “The blockade guy told me the entire storm shelter collapsed. I guess too many people crammed inside, so they couldn’t shut the door good.”

You swallowed thickly. If you hadn’t found Tyler, the storm shelter was going to be your plan B– 

“We hid under the staircase,” he said as Boone began down the road. “Had Dexter been tracking anythin’ out this way?” 

The two proceeded to talk about the sudden impact of the storm and whatever else tornado chasers cared about. Meanwhile, Tyler’s thumb trailed up and down your bare arm soothingly, allowing you to tune it all out. 

When Boone pulled down your dirt driveway and put his car in park fifteen minutes later, he turned to face you. “I’m real glad you’re okay.”

You offered him a weak smile. “Me too.”

After thanking his friend, Tyler helped you out of the car and towards the house, his hand never leaving your waist until you were inside. 

“Couch or bed?” he asked, shutting the front door behind him. 

“Couch,” you murmured. The bed meant stairs, which you weren’t sure you were ready for quite yet. 

“You got it,” he said. 

Gently, Tyler helped lower you to the couch, where you curled up against the corduroy fabric and sighed. 

But your eyes snapped open quickly as soon as you realized that Tyler wasn’t laying down with you. 

“Where are you going?” you asked, trying (and failing) to mask the panic in your voice. You shifted and sat up, a sudden wave of pain hit your head, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. You tried your best to mask it and force your eyes back open. It felt pathetic, but you didn’t really want Tyler out of your sight right now. 

He turned around instantly. “I was just gonna get you some water and an ice pack, baby. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you said uneasily. Your eyes remained trained on him the entire time he maneuvered around the kitchen. You could tell he noticed, too. His eyes kept flickering up to check on you. 

He was back in less than a minute– but still you sighed a breath of relief. He set the glass of water down on the side table before taking a seat on the other end of the couch. 

He handed you the ice pack and watched sadly as you placed it on your temple with a wince. 

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Will you– will you lay down with me?” you asked him. 

Tyler nodded. “Of course, baby.” He opened his arms, making a spot for you to lay between his legs. With your back resting against his chest, Tyler wound one arm around your middle and used the other to hold the ice pack against your head for you. 

Using what little strength you had, you gripped his forearm. “Just... please don’t go,” you begged. 

Tyler pressed his lips on the top of your head. “I won’t– I’m right here,” he assured you. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief and laid your head back against his chest, finally feeling content.  

After a while, you were finally able to drift off in his embrace. Your body ached and your head throbbed, but everything felt more bearable when you were in Tyler’s arms.

[wandurlvst]

Baby Trouble

ken sato x gn!reader one shot

notes: this is my first time publishing my writing so IM REALLY NERVOUS, but i hope you enjoy 😭 and yes i know ken calls ami for kid advice but let’s just say he called you instead 🤗

warnings: none! just wholesome fluff with slight crack tbh

ever since you could remember you’ve always wanted to raise a family. either that’d be your biological children or adoptive. i guess you could say it came from your own parents—how they were able to raise someone who isn’t themselves so well-

BZZ BZZ BZZ

a buzz pulled you from your thoughts—your phone was ringing from the other end of the couch. you placed the remote of the tv down and checked the contact. it was ken—an old friend of yours. you’ve known him since you were kids and shares many things in common. “i need to work in the morning, ken.” “i know- i know. but i need your help.”

you sighed, “and what could be so important that i’m needed this late?” “just come over.” the call ended, you looked at the black screen and decided to just visit for a minute. it can’t hurt

you exited your vehicle and ascended the stairs. you raised your fist to knock on the door. but before you could, you were pulled inside quickly. “woah!”

“took your sweet time didn’t you?” ken said in a very annoyed tone, “well it didn’t sound like an emergency.” you shrugged, “whatever just follow me.”

“what is this about ken? it’s getting late- and don’t you have a game tomorrow?” “that- that can wait.” he led you two to the giant elevator that led down to his basement. “don’t scream okay?” “what do you mean…?” once the doors opened you were met with a giant pink baby kaiju who was in a large cage. but of course your first instinct was to scream—but ken covered your mouth just before you did. “what did i just say!?” he released your face, “i can’t help it! it’s a kaiju and why is it your house in the first place?”

“you saw what happened after my first game with the giants- and the KDF wanted to take her so…” “you took her instead.” “yeah.” you approached the glass wall of the cage and the baby cried as if she was going to be hurt by you, you all covered your ears and ken jumped in front of you. “mina!” the ai surrounded the cage with images and videos of ken playing baseball—distracting the infant, “so why did you need me here again?”

he sighed, “i need help- or advice on how you raise her.” “i’ve never raised a kaiju, ken.” “i know that! i mean a kid. what would a normal baby need?”

you stepped towards the infant again now that she was distracted, “well she isn’t a normal baby. but she’d need a lot of attention at her age- you’ll need to feed her, wash her, uh- figure out the whole potty training situation, the five s’s- mina could teach you that-“ “we’ve already started.” she chimed in.

“oh and don’t get me started on the constant lack of sleep. now i know i don’t have kids of my own- but from what my parents told me i was a nightmare when i was a baby.” you were in your own world rambling on and on about baby advice—you didn’t notice ken right next to you

“how about we do that?” he commented, you were confused—naturally. “do what?” you turned to him

“raise her. together. like parents.” he noticed you staring at him and he grew nervous that his idea was ridiculous, “i mean- since you’re basically the expert i could learn along the way- i don’t want you doing all the hard work. but i understand if you’d say no- you have a lot on your plate already“

“ken.”

“yeah?”

“i’ll help you.” you smiled, “it won’t be easy but, it could be fun.” this time you calmly called to the infant. introducing yourself. the baby smiled and was entertained by you. ken smiled at the immediate bond you two had and he knew it would work

[pin-k-ink]

trespass // sakusa kiyoomi

tw ⇢ non-con, somnophilia, unprotected sex, creampie, grinding, public sex, implied voyeurism, getting caught, minor manga spoilers, sakusa is lowkey delulu

wc ⇢ 2.5k

a/n: this was heavily inspired by a mista fic i read

Sakusa's skin crawled as he stared at the bus, a sense of dread rising in his throat. The vehicle loomed before him, its doors open like the maw of some great beast waiting to swallow him whole. Inside, two full teams from Itachiyama awaited, their bodies packed together in a claustrophobic nightmare due to a last-minute transportation issue.

As he stepped onto the bus, Sakusa's mind reeled at the thought of being trapped in such close quarters with so many people, each one a potential vector for illness. He had always prized his personal space, a carefully maintained barrier against the chaos of the outside world. Now, that barrier was about to be breached.

He should've just taken the train to their away games without batting an eye. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to be crammed into another vehicle with strangers, which seemed slightly worse than getting on a bus with people he actually knew. Or maybe a tiny part of him felt uneasy about leaving you, his precious little manager, in a bus full of hormonal and sweaty teenage boys.

Sakusa had sucked it up and gotten up extra early to secure a spot in the back of the bus, already claiming the corner seat as his own. By sunrise, the bus was filled to capacity, the vehicle swaying precariously from side to side. He was sure that the tires were probably inflated to their limits, ready to burst at any moment.

As the rest of the team filed in, Sakusa curled into himself, but you were nowhere to be seen. Were you not coming? Or were you sensible enough to find another way there instead of willingly entering this lion's den?

No, apparently not. You were just as reckless as always. Sakusa jolted slightly in his seat as you suddenly emerged from between two burly basketball players, yelping softly as the imbalance in your overloaded duffel bag caused you to stumble and fall.

Iizuna, ever the attentive captain, quickly helped you to your feet. He dusted you off and checked for any injuries, keeping you close by his side, practically nestled between his legs as everyone finally settled into their seats. It was going to be a long six-hour ride, and there was no way anyone would be left standing, no matter how cramped it got.

Iizuna glanced apologetically at Sakusa as he asked you to sit next to him, closer to the window. But upon realizing there was no space, Iizuna suggested you sit on his lap instead. In a flash, Sakusa reached out and pulled you in, his hands almost aggressively wrapping around your waist as he tugged you onto his own lap, leaving a dumbfounded Iizuna and the other third years staring in shock.

Beside him, Komori snickered, watching in amusement as you awkwardly adjusted yourself on Sakusa's lap, apologizing profusely as if you had committed some grave offense. Sakusa offered no verbal reassurance, instead silently guiding you to sit more comfortably between his legs as he spread them slightly to accommodate you.

Just as Sakusa was about to ask if you were comfortable, the bus lurched forward and began moving. At that moment, he heard the familiar chime of an incoming text message.

Pulling out his phone, Sakusa saw that Komori had sent him a single line: "Make a move on her."

Rolling his eyes, Sakusa shot his cousin a pointed glare before pocketing his phone again. Of course Komori would be aware of his not-so-subtle crush on their manager. After all, you were the only person aside from Komori that Sakusa allowed to touch him freely. He had even permitted you to feed him once, using the very same chopsticks you had just eaten with yourself.

Sakusa's mind wandered to the time he had gotten injured during practice. The team nurse had already gone home for the day, but luckily, you had the knowledge to tend to his type of injury. He vividly remembered how you looked kneeling between his legs, gently hiking up his shorts to press your fingers against the taut, sinewy muscles of his inner thigh.

He had felt his breath catch as you unknowingly leaned in closer, your exhales ghosting over his sensitive skin. Sakusa had to forcibly banish the less-than-pure thoughts from his mind, knowing that any physical reaction would be glaringly obvious given your proximity.

All the moments he had spent alone with you were precious to him. He treasured each and every one, locking them safely away in his heart. So of course he wanted to make a move, to let you know how much you meant to him.

But as he looked down at your peaceful, sleeping face, Sakusa had to stifle a sigh. Somehow, you had already dozed off, a cute habit of yours whenever you were in a moving vehicle with hours to go before reaching your destination. It was adorable, but at this particular moment, rather frustrating.

Gently tugging his mask down to rest below his nose, Sakusa leaned closer and protectively wrapped his arms around your middle. He held you securely against his chest, ensuring you wouldn't slip off as the bus jostled along the highway. Burying his nose in your hair, he breathed in deeply, the soft scent of lavender from your shampoo flooding his senses and awakening a primal urge deep within him.

Almost unconsciously, Sakusa's hands tightened their grip on you as he nuzzled further into your silky locks. His fingertips skimmed teasingly along the hem of your shirt, dancing just underneath the edge of your jacket. He knew that with the slightest movement, he could brush against the bare skin of your stomach.

The thought alone sent a thrill down his spine. Sakusa couldn't help but wonder if your skin was as soft and smooth as it looked. It had to be. Throwing caution to the wind, he finally slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, grazing them ever so lightly over the warm, supple flesh of your belly.

You shivered slightly in your sleep, your stomach dipping at the barest touch. So you were ticklish. That knowledge made Sakusa's heart swell with adoration. Fuck, could you be any cuter?

Emboldened, Sakusa continued to gently rub your lower abdomen, reveling in the velvety softness. As you relaxed further into his embrace, a hum of contentment rumbled deep in his chest.

Tightening his thighs on either side of you, Sakusa held you firmly in place, determined to savor this fleeting moment of intimacy. His fingers ceased their exploration, now simply brushing lazy circles over the enticing curves of your hips.

As the bus rolled on, Sakusa let himself get lost in the feeling of you in his arms. He knew he should probably feel guilty for indulging in this intimate touch without your knowledge, but the temptation was too great to resist. He had waited so long for a chance like this, to feel your softness under his hands, to breathe in your scent until it filled his lungs.

He promised himself that this stolen moment would be the catalyst he needed to finally confess his feelings for you. He would do it right, court you properly until you understood the depth of his affection. But for now, he would allow himself this one transgression, this fleeting glimpse of what could be.

As he held you close, your gentle exhales tickling his collarbone, Sakusa let himself dream of a future where you were his. His to hold, his to cherish, his to love. And with that sweet fantasy playing behind his closed eyelids, he drifted off to sleep, your name a whispered prayer on his lips.

The glaring sun pierced through the window beside him, rousing Sakusa from his slumber. Sweat drenched his body, causing his shirt to cling uncomfortably to his skin. A soft groan of annoyance escaped his lips as he registered the weight on his lap, only for his eyes to flutter open and realize it was you. With a gentle sigh, Sakusa attempted to adjust your position, but a sudden, muffled moan slipped out as he became acutely aware that something was terribly amiss.

Sakusa froze, his heart pounding frantically against his ribcage as the realization dawned on him - the incessant vibrations of the bus, combined with your warm, pliant body pressed intimately against his lap, had coaxed his treacherous body to stir in a most inconvenient manner.

Sakusa's breath caught in his throat, a heated flush creeping up his neck as he desperately willed his body to behave. The last thing he needed was for you to wake up and feel his shameful arousal pressing insistently against your ass.

Clenching his jaw, Sakusa tried to focus on anything else - the passing scenery, the low hum of the engine, the quiet chatter of his teammates. But every subtle shift of your weight, every gentle exhale that tickled his skin, only served to further stoke the embers of his desire.

He cursed silently, his fingers digging into your hips as he fought to maintain control. It was torture of the sweetest kind, having you so close, yet being unable to act on his longing. Sakusa knew he should wake you, put some distance between your bodies before the situation escalated, but a selfish part of him wanted to bask in your warmth just a little longer.

As if sensing his internal struggle, you stirred slightly, your head lolling to the side to rest in the crook of his neck. Your lips brushed against his heated skin, eliciting a shuddering gasp from Sakusa. He bit back a groan, his resolve crumbling with each passing second.

Sakusa swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing against the shell of your ear. He couldn't take it anymore, his cock throbbing painfully in the confines of his pants. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to lose his mind.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Sakusa reluctantly untangled his fingers from your hips. He hesitated for a moment, steeling himself before carefully sliding his hand over your clothed pussy.

Sakusa's breath hitched as his fingers brushed over the damp material, his eyes widening in shock. Was this... for him?

Heat coursed through his veins, his head swimming with lust as he dared to apply a little more pressure. The lewd sound of his fingers dragging against your slick panties elicited a choked whimper from him, his cock twitching impatiently beneath you.

Sakusa couldn't believe what he was doing.

Touching you like this, even if you were asleep, was completely unacceptable. He should stop while he still could.

But when his fingers found your clit, circling the bundle of nerves with agonizing precision, you arched into him, your ass grinding down on his cock and sending sparks of pleasure coursing through his veins.

With a low growl, Sakusa tightened his hold on you, his other hand fumbling to reach his zipper. The metal teeth gave way easily, allowing him to tug the stiff material down, his leaking cock finally springing free.

A shuddering sigh of relief escaped his lips, the cool air of the bus doing little to quell the heat raging within him. He was painfully hard, the head of his cock already leaking precum.

With one final glance at your blissful, sleeping face, Sakusa lifted his hips, nudging his cock against your panty-clad core. His pulse was racing, his breaths coming in short, ragged pants as he teased the soaked fabric.

Unable to resist any longer, Sakusa pushed the soaked panties aside, the swollen head of his cock rubbing tortuously against your aching clit. You moaned softly, arching into him, your body instinctively seeking the pleasure he was so willing to give.

His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, the anticipation almost unbearable.

Sakusa's cock throbbed insistently, his hips rocking slowly against your dripping cunt. The need to bury himself inside you, to feel your velvety walls clenching around him, was almost overwhelming.

He was so close, the tip of his cock poised at your entrance, ready to claim you as his. Just one push and he would be sheathed inside you, buried to the hilt. All he had to do was thrust his hips and you would finally be his.

The bus jerked, throwing you back against him, his cock sliding into your soaked cunt, and Sakusa groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt your warm walls flutter around him. Fuck, you felt better than he had ever imagined.

With a shaky exhale, he sank deeper into your heat, his cock throbbing as you stretched to accommodate him. You felt like heaven, and Sakusa couldn't stop himself from thrusting his hips, his cock sliding in and out of your tight pussy.

Sakusa knew he should be gentle, take his time and savor every delicious inch of you. But the overwhelming desire to claim you, to mark you as his, overpowered any sense of restraint he may have had.

His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he rutted into you, his cock massaging your aching cunt.

The air was thick with the heady scent of your arousal, the soft, subtle sound of your slick pussy being stretched by his cock filling the space between your bodies.

Sakusa's head fell back against the seat, his jaw clenched as he fucked into you, the coil of pleasure tightening in his gut. He was close, his balls tightening as he felt his orgasm rapidly approaching.

Just as he was about to pull out, his cock twitching with the promise of release, you came with a soft moan, your walls clamping down on him. With a strangled cry, Sakusa buried his face in your neck, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself inside you, painting your walls with his cum.

As the last waves of his orgasm washed over him, Sakusa let out a satisfied sigh, his body slumping against yours. You were still asleep, your soft breaths tickling his skin, and Sakusa couldn't help but smile, his heart swelling with affection.

He knew it was wrong, taking advantage of you like this. But the feeling of euphoria that came from being inside you, knowing that he had claimed you as his own, was worth any guilt that may come later.

As he basked in the afterglow of his release, Sakusa vowed to confess his feelings once he returned home. No matter what, he would make sure you were his, and his alone.

Sakusa's phone chimed again, abruptly pulling him from his reverie. Glancing down, he saw a new message from Komori: "That is not what I meant by making a move." Confused, Sakusa quirked an eyebrow and turned to his side, only to be met with Komori's appalled expression, though that did nothing to deter him from noticing the very prominent hard-on his cousin was sporting.

[sugar-phoenix]

𖥔 . overheating . 𖥔

synopsis: you're out on an operation with Boothill, and after a long battle and a quick getaway, you turn to realize that the cyborg cowboy is...overheating. With all the implications that come with that. tags: f!reader (Boothill refers to reader as "Lady" and "Missy" once), no smut, fluff, light romance a/n: 1.3k words, wrote this in a craze based off of a headcanon that @k9wa and @nvuy posted about! tickled my brain too much!

ao3 link here!

The sound of gunshots rang out in the night. You ducked in your getaway vehicle, a hover car illegally outfitted with nitrogen turbo boosters. Sticking our head out of the car every now and then, you aimed your pistol at the heads of IPC guards, knocking them dead left and right.

Boothill had been inside the IPC base for a while now. It was supposed to be a quick job. He only needed to run in, download the secret data straight to one of the USB ports on his hip, and then run out. Probably nailing an IPC soldier or ten in the head while he was there.

“Boothill,” you muttered, “where are you?”

You met the cowboy only once before this operation — he had sought you out as a fellow Ranger against the IPC for your getaway vehicle.

“’M gonna be lootin’ a pretty big IPC base, ‘n I need some kinda escape route,” he drawled. “You git me?”

You happily agreed. Why not? Anything that would be a loss for the IPC was a win for you.

Not to mention the cyborg cowboy was one of the finer men you’d come across in your travels.

Presently, you shook that thought out of your mind and fired a shot at another guard. It’s better to stay clear-headed when you’re in a shootout. Any unholy thoughts were perfectly fine to sift through in safer, calmer settings.

“Where is that dang cowboy?” you muttered again for the fifth time.

A hoot and a holler rang through the air, and you glanced towards the entrance. As though in answer to your question, Boothill emerged from within the base, running full gallop towards the vehicle.

“Start drivin,’” he ordered as he slid into the passenger seat.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you replied as more IPC soldiers spilled out of the entrance. The engine roared as you slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

“Ugh, turn up the A/C,” Boothill groaned.

“Turn ‘em up yourself, cowboy,” you responded. “I’m too busy making sure we’re getting away.”

The cyborg reached towards the dashboard and rotated the knob to the coolest possible setting. He leaned back into his seat, huffing and panting.

“All good?”

“Yeah. ‘S just a lot of fighting. Got me worked up.” He sniffed. “This dang A/C ain’t cool enough for me.”

You shrugged, checking the rearview mirror. The IPC vehicles were hot on your heels.  Thankfully, that wasn’t a problem for you. As an expert driver, you were fully trained in the art of evasive maneuvers. It’s what the cowboy hired you to do, after all.

You sped into the nearby city, a metropolis that conveniently had many twisty alleys and tight turns.

“This’ll be a piece of cake. Don’t you worry, cowboy,” you chuckled. The cowboy didn’t answer, and you were too busy focused on the road to check on him.

Drifting through intersections and jumping across lanes, you managed to throw off the majority of the IPC squadron pursuing you. There were only three small hover vehicles left, chasing you through a single-lane alleyway. You revved your engine to taunt them and cackled as the reverberations echoed off the buildings on either side.

The hovercar drifted, fishtailing as you made a sharp turn to the right. You swore as the sound of screaming metal rang out in the air, signaling that your spoilers had scraped against the walls.

“That’s gonna cost ya, cowboy,” you quipped, smiling as you saw two of the three vehicles crash into the wall behind you.

“Lady, I ain’t at fault for your drivin’ skills.”

You snapped your head towards Boothill, giving him a full-on death glare.

“Not that you drive bad, missy! I was just sayin,” he said, raising his hands up in surrender. It was then that you realized he’d unzipped his jacket, letting it fall lazily off his shoulders.

Heat rising to your cheeks, you snapped your attention back to the road, trying to evade the last IPC hover vehicle. A few quick turns and an IPC crash later, you pulled into a dark alleyway and braked, turning off the car.

“Why are we stoppin’?” Boothill asked.

“They’re probably swarming the city. Best to lie low for now until it all subsides.”

There was shuffling in the passenger seat, and you turned to look.

Boothill laid back against the seat, his limbs sprawled out. His bangs were arranged in wet clumps, and sweat gleamed off his face in the glow from distant neon signs. The rest of his long hair was put up along the headrest behind him, leaving his neck bare. His jacket, bandana, and hat were thrown in the back, leaving his upper torso bare for all the world to see. His pants were shrugged low on his hip, almost revealing his unmentionables (did cyborgs even have unmentionables?). Panting and huffing, he closed his eyes, frowning. You could hear a loud hum emanate from within his robot body.

“Boothill?” you croaked, fighting to speak through the feeling of your brain frying in your skull. It wasn’t just his appearance that was, well, hot, but a boiling heat was radiating off of him. You had hardly noticed in all the earlier action.

“Yes, darlin’?” He groaned. Your heart fluttered at the way he said darlin.’

“What. Are you doing?” You hardly thought the cowboy was one to give in to his darker desires at the drop of a hat, although there was something off about the scene that told you it wasn’t motivated by lust.

He chuckled before answering.

“Told ya I got worked up during that fight. I’m overheatin.’ One of the problems with having a robot body, ya get me?” Boothill breathed out heavily, his breath steaming in the air. “Fudge,” he muttered, closing his eyes and frowning again.

“Are you in pain?” you asked. His stance was akin to a man tortured, impaled from the back with hot iron spears.

“Nah, darlin,’ nothin’ like that. Just… hot, is all. Really fudgin’ hot.” Boothill let out a breath of steam again. “It’ll go away, like it always does. I jus’ need ta’ keep still for a lil’ bit. Let it cool down.”

You leaned over him, trying to ignore how close you were to his hot (both physically and metaphorically) abs, and pushed the passenger door open. It only went so far as the narrow alleyway let it, but you could feel the cold air of the night wash over you both.

“Thank ya’ kindly, darlin,’” he murmured.

“Don’t mention it,” you said, leaning back. You jumped when your arm brushed over his body.

“Did I burn ya?” Boothill didn’t move but his eyes fixed you with a worried look.

“No, you didn’t, it’s just…” You trailed off, not knowing how to end that sentence without embarrassing yourself. A heat creeped over your cheeks again.

“Oh, I see,” he smiled. “You can touch me if ya want darlin.’ I don’t bite.” He punctuated that sentence with a wide grin, showing off his shark-like teeth.

“But not right now,” he said as you tentatively reached an arm towards him. “Not while I’m hot like this. And it ain’t cause I might burn ya sweetie, but with all due respect, I ain’t wanna touch anything right this moment.”

“Got it,” you said sitting straight back in your seat.

A silence filled the car, gently broken by the whir of Boothill’s internal fans and the ambient hum of the city outside.

It was a comfortable, soft kind of silence. You let it soak into your flesh, down to your bones, etching this moment inside of yourself. It was nice.

“’Course, when I’m not overheatin,” Boothill murmured, “you’re free to touch whatever.” He grinned mischievously.

“Stop it,” you said. “You’re gonna make me overheat.”

dividers by cafekitsune

[corporate-driver-training]

Emergency Response Driver Training

Enhance your team's readiness with our emergency response driver training in Australia. This course focuses on advanced driving techniques, vehicle handling, and safety protocols in high-pressure situations. Equip your workforce with the skills needed to respond quickly and safely, ensuring effective emergency operations on the road.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Dealing with zombies

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Undead alien horde wanders into town Alien: Run for your lives! Human: Why? Alien: Monsters are coming!!! Alien 2: They can’t be killed! Human: So they’re undead? Alien: Yes!! Human: Goes home and revs chainsaw Fucking finally. ----------------------

Alien: Watches human carving through undead horde Alien: How are you so calm!?! Human: finishes carving through undead Me and my friends used to do stuff like this all the time when we were kids on Friday night. Alien: Are these undead such a problem on your world?! Human: Oh they flare up from time to time, but then the market gets saturated with them and people just lose interest. Alien: What the hells does that even mean!?!?” ---------------------

Alien: What are we going to do? Human: *swipes everything off table and lays out giant map Human: We need to reach the local Costcoooo Mart and seal it up. Human: The walls are at least two feet thick of concrete so we only need to worry about the main doors, emergency exits, and loading bays to seal up. Human: There should be enough fuel there to power generators and supplies to last us a while. Alien: *Looks down at detailed map with several cascading footnotes. Alien: Why do you have this? Human: Have what? Alien: This map…..why do you have it already prepared? Human: Oh, that. Human: Every human has a zombie plan ready; sometimes several. Alien: Really? Human: *Shouts down corridor Human: Yo STEVE! What’s your zombie plan? Steve: *shouts back from down the hall Steve: Take my family to countryside where it is isolated and hold fort on a farm until things blow over. Human: *Turns to alien Human: See? Everyone’s got one. -------------------

*Pair of humans and aliens sneaking through zombie infested streets Human 1: Alright; if we can make it to the train station we should be able to follow the rail lines out of the city. Alien 1: There are too many of them; we’ll never make it through. Alien 2: This will help. Alien 2: *Hefts large plasma pistol. Human 2: Are you crazy?! Human 2: No guns! Alien 1: Why would we not- Zombie: *Lurches over to them and groans Alien 2: *Panics and fires plasma pistol. *Zombie is cut in half by the weapon blast but the loud boom attracts every zombie in surrounding area towards them Human 2: That…..That is why genius.. -----------------------

Alien: Why do you prefer using melee weapons? Human: Because they don’t run out of ammo, are relatively quiet, and you look badass while using them. Alien: Really? Alien: You are using a cricket bat. Human: Badass right? Alien: To quote a human saying. Alien: “You look like a wanker.” --------------------

Alien: Why do the undead keep falling down? Human: *Watches zombies step forward and fall down Human: God bless undertakers. Alien: Huh? ---------------------

Alien: How can you be so calm about this? Human: They’re only human zombies, nothing to be worried about. Alien: Only…. Alien: What do you mean by that? Human: The real shit hits the fan when the animals start turning zombie. Alien: Like? Human: Zombees. Alien: What? Human: Zombie bees; Zombees. -----------------------

Alien: I’m still surprised you have a functioning vehicle during these times. Alien: Let alone one with such a lovely shade of red. Human: Well to be fair it was white this morning? Alien: Really? What happened then? Human: Speed bumps. Alien: Speed bumps? Human: So many speed bumps. ---------------------

*Zombie horde approaches Alien: Don’t worry, I got this! Human: Wait don- Alien: *Uses flame thrower on zombies Human: You idiot, that does not kill zombies! Alien: What?! *Sees flaming zombies now shambling towards them Human: Damnit you’re just making them deadlier! -----------------------

Alien: So you are saying I shouldn’t wear armor? Human: Some armor, but nothing heavy. Alien: Why? Alien: They wouldn’t be able to get through heavy armor. Human: True, but when they swarm you and drag you down you won’t be able to push them off. Human: So you’ll either starve or have them eventually rip the armor off you and eat you slowly. Alien: Why do I feel like you have debated this before? Human: It’s a tale as old as time…. -------------------------

Alien: We’re surrounded. Alien: *Looks down at dog. Human: Why are you looking at my dog like that? Alien: If we set the dog loose it’ll attract zombies and we can escape. Human: Ah, no. Human: We are not sacrificing my fluffy boy. Alien: But- Human: One more word and I’ll throw you to them instead. Alien: Surely you wouldn’t. Human: *Cocks pistol Human: It’s a gamble you will lose. Human: *Scratches top of dog’s head

[multifandomme]

Disarmed

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Female Reader

Summary: During a mandatory training session, you unexpectedly uncover a new kink and Emily is more than happy to indulge you. Based on this anon request.

Genre: Smut, (choking, semi-public/public?, fingering, pet names, light praise, degradation, daddy kink), not suitable for minors.

Word Count: 2.9k..

This piece is for day 15 of kinktober under the ‘choking’ prompt.

More works from me here. || Masterlist here. || Kinktober 2024 Masterlist here.

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––--– ♡ –––--

The sky had yet to be licked with a trace of dawn’s light, the only solace found in the caffeine that thrummed steadily through your veins, listless eyes flickering around in the silence. It was unusual for the team, though incomplete, to be so void of life, but Strauss and her dark magic had the ability to drain the fun out of any situation.

This time, Strauss had stooped to new lows, had marched into the morning briefing and blindsided half of you with firm instructions to abandon the case and attend a mandatory training session instead. Of course, the reaction she had understandably yielded had been less than favourable, though presented with no choice, you were forced into compliance.

Unshakable tension hung in the air, unnerving quiet persisting and breached only by the sound of the car engine in the background. Emily’s warmth bled into you, her body pressed snugly beside you, her hand lingering against your knee. Spending time with her appeared to be the only saving grace, every occasional stolen glance forcing the emergence of a smile upon your lips and one that even Strauss could not diminish. 

But you knew that the moment would be short-lived, knew that the second Emily stepped into the training facility she would transform, the demeanour of a hardened agent soon to possess her. It was alluring to witness, her competitive streak free of its cage and only evoking an envy in you towards any unsub that was ever lucky enough to be subdued by her. You had imagined it countless times, desperate to feel the weight of her wrath, her gun trained on you, her voice purring in your ear. For now, the fantasy would have to suffice. 

The vehicle ground to an abrupt halt, your devious daydreams hastily thrust to the outskirts of your mind. Morgan sighed audibly in agitation as he regarded the training facility with disdain, serving only as a reminder of a job left undone, the knowledge that cases were certain to be stacking in your absence. This sound roused Hotch into rotation as he twisted in the driver’s seat, his hands retracting from their prior state of uninterrupted white-knuckling around the steering wheel.

“I know that none of us want to be here,” Hotch acknowledged, flatly, his mirrored indignation unable to be hidden, “just follow instruction, stick to protocol and maybe we can get back in time to pick up the case, which I know is what we all want.”

“How the hell did the rest of the team get out of this one?” Morgan flared, his head shaking in avid disapproval, his jaw flexed, “Strauss has it in for the four of us, this is just another one of her games.”

A lengthened pause occurred as Hotch jostled to land on a diplomatic answer, though his agreement was glaringly obvious. He knew that this was merely another strategy to antagonise the team and place all of you under a microscope in the hopes that you would fail. Morgan had already let her sneak under his skin, falling victim to the effect she had been intent on provoking.

“Then let’s not give her any more ammunition,” Hotch nodded, his expression determined, intense.

“What’s the first scenario?” You probed, curiously, the lewd thoughts you had stowed away earlier suddenly sparking back into existence, entranced by the vision of Emily in her bulletproof vest, wondering how it would feel to have it slammed against you.

Morgan unravelled the little brochure that Strauss had kindly provided earlier, his eyes scanning the first page, a scoff of bemusement emitting. “Hostage negotiation.”

The revelation elicited a burst of excitement inside of you, a sense of renewed purpose holding you in its grasp as you conjured a menacing plan. Emily noted the shift, suspicion quick to cloud her as she narrowed her eyes. 

“I could be the unsub,” you suggested, coolly, a dismissive shrug following suit for good measure, the deranged delight threatening to hack through and expose your true motive.

And manipulating a profiler was your first mistake, Emily's irises swirling with something newfound, an unmistakable glint that soundlessly informed you that she had suspected your underhandedness. You had expected her to dissuade you, to foil your plan for her own satisfaction and yet, she remained quiet, collected, a sweet simper fused to her lips.

"You sure you can handle that?" She retorted, the soft lilt in her voice only inflaming the thoughts that plagued your brain.

Emily knew exactly what she was doing, but you also had an ace to play.

"Come on, Prentiss," you appealed, vehemently, your lips inching closer until your breath fizzled against her ear, the proximities deliberate enough that a marked whisper had the potential to go unheard by the others. "I have no problem overpowering you in the sack, baby, why don't you give me a challenge for once?"

A musing scoff emanated from her, eyes darkening to a shade unfathomable, her expression hastily correcting itself, self-control successfully slashed by the daring nature of your words. Bite marks imprinted themselves into the full flesh of her lips, her gaze averted as she threw a nod of confirmation towards Hotch.

"Let her do it, Hotch," Emily echoed, feigning supportiveness, though the hand upon your knee mutated its caressing touch to something more ominous, squeezing with vigour, with warning. "She's desperate for it."

"Give the girl a chance, Hotch," Morgan chimed in.

Hotch ruminated on the idea, the chasms of his frown lines deepening in his state of thought, his face unreadable until it melted into certainty.

"It's settled then," he affirmed. "Emily will negotiate. Morgan, you and I will serve as backup. Let's get into position."

––--– ♡ –––--

Anxiety rattled as you awaited the inevitable onslaught, an agent from another unit knelt before you, posed as the hostage, your gun nudging into the back of his skull. You should have been fearful of failing given the high stakes involved, Strauss gunning to disband the BAU and strip you of your jobs, but you were enthralled by the unfolding situation. Your heart thudded, so ferociously that your ribcage seemed to bounce visibly with every pulsation, a familiar tingling sensation between your legs as you prepared to face the crowd of agents. But you only cared about one of them.

And when the battering footfalls flooded, you stared out into the sea of unfamiliar faces until you identified the one that educed goosebumps, libido splintering. Emily gripped her gun forcefully, her aim never straying as she followed your every movement with it, her callous demeanour only furthering the thrill that racked through you.

"FBI! Put the weapon down!" Emily bellowed, unequivocal in her demand. "Nice and slowly, let me see your hands."

"Listen to her," Morgan encouraged, his voice gentler, coaxing. "She's trying to help you but you need to let this man go, okay?"

The words did not register, unable to pry your lustful gaze from the woman before you, her steps painstakingly slow as they grew nearer, cautious in her approach. You almost considered surrendering, too engrossed by Emily for logic or reason to occur to you, every thought placing her at the singularity. And God, you wanted her, wanted to bow out of this exercise and feel her flush against you, inside of you, all over you.

"Don't come any closer," you demanded, unfaltering on your designated target as you repositioned the handgun against the hostage's temple this time, the threat coercing Emily into a slight retreat. "I'll shoot, do you hear me? I will shoot him."

Emily swallowed hard, a fleck of annoyance passing over her eyes in the realisation that she would have to resort to faux appeasement. As expected, she safely holstered her weapon, her teeth gritted almost undetectably in response to her state of powerlessness, having assumed that a feat like this would have been effortless. She had underestimated you.

"I have put away my gun," she reiterated, her hands raised to the skies, her fate undecided, at your mercy. "I won't hurt you, but I'm gonna need you to let him go first, okay? Nobody needs to get hurt."

Compelled to heed her, the uncompromising cinch upon your gun devolved into a state of wavering, the compulsion to submit to her almost too staggering to ignore. It was only when you noticed her form closing in that you had realised how convincing she had been, how she had managed to render you bewitched without being consciously aware of it. You had forgotten the existence of protocol, the purpose of your task sliding away until it no longer mattered to you or at all. And then, your gun clattered to the ground beneath, the hostage fleeing into the arms of Morgan who awaited him.

Under the guise that the exercise had been concluded, your eyes travelled to land on Emily, met instead by the whirring of flashing throws and punches. The pain had not yet materialised, too bewildered to arrive upon a single emotion nor feeling until your neck found itself encircled, besieged by a wrecking force.

The surge of cold against your back signified that you had been successfully wrangled to the ground, a striking white smile peering down at you from above. A sensation of weightlessness washed over you, the hands around your neck only willing you further to places unknown, places that you had not yet explored, your vision clouded in white-hot.

"More," you rasped, your thoughts so exquisitely confused, so nonsensical that you were convinced that the voice belonged not to you, but to someone far in the distance. "Daddy."

"Come on, Prentiss," Morgan's voice pierced your brain, half-startling you as you thudded back into reality and reacquainted yourself with your surroundings. "Now that's just overkill."

The pressure released itself and subsequently filled you with disappointment, Emily clambering from you with a sickening smile.

"Really?" She questioned, blatant amusement sported upon her features, the sound of footsteps retreating as the training room gradually emptied. "Begging me to choke you in front of all of those agents, hm?"

A pitiful whine was all that you could gather, any further response thwarted by the sound of Hotch's voice as he peeped his head around the doorway.

"Take twenty," he spoke, his voice echoing out into the newfound hollowness of the space, you and Emily now the only remaining inhabitants. "Target practice is next on the agenda. We'll regroup at the range."

Emily nodded in agreement before scanning the room to assure that you were alone, panic percolating inside of you until it brimmed. You had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, left vulnerable in the desolation.

"A lot can happen in twenty minutes, pretty girl," she hummed, her mouth still corrupted by that same, sinful smirk. "I could help you out," she considered, a finger pressed to her lips, as if she was waiting to be convinced. "The question is, are you going to be quiet if I do?"

Instantly, you sucked in a breath, careful as not to solidify an unfavourable decision, the remnants of a whimper swallowed away.

"I'll be quiet, Daddy," you acceded, fighting avidly to veil your growing desperation.

The surrounding scene blurred the second the words had been uttered, the cool flooring against your back replaced by the feeling of a rugged wall. Your vision vacillated between clarity and murk, unable to shake the residual feeling of light-headedness from earlier. Two hands fisted into your vest, her strength pinning you in place as you battled to meet her gaze.

And when you did, you weakened into a state of undivided pliability. You were hers to take, she knew that.

"So fucking typical of you, isn't it, angel?" She taunted, a low chuckle expelling from her, two fingers teasing a downward stripe over your larynx and eliciting a subconscious shudder. "You just can't seem to control yourself around me, can you?"

Refuting her was a lost cause, your hunger so visceral, so blatant that you would do anything to persuade her into quelling it.

"No, I can't," you admitted, breathlessly, your focus fixed upon those trailing fingers, praying for the revival of that same crushing pressure, praying to a god that you didn't believe in if it meant you could relive that feeling of ascension. "I want you, Daddy. I need you."

Flames roared in her eyes, a searing heat radiating from her despite the heavy obstruction of clothing, her hand spreading to reprise its role around your throat. This time, the force was purposely unsatisfying, light as you sprung forward in search of more.

"You want me to choke you, baby?" She asked, almost innocently, her tongue curling against the corner of her mouth in unbridled amusement. "You want me to make you beg for air, hm? Make you forget how to breathe?"

The second you opened your mouth to formulate a response, a harshened grip unleashed itself, the sounds you had vowed to conceal blurting out into the silence.

"That's it, whine like a whore," Emily crooned, mockingly, her teeth grazing your earlobe, the vibration of her words causing shockwaves to ricochet, "you're just loving this aren't you, angel?"

Every drop of moisture drained from your mouth, your jaw slack as you struggled to will in a trace of oxygen. Emily merely smirked as you flailed in her grasp, her face dangerously close as she basked in your strife. For a fleeting moment, she released you and you exploited this scintilla of freedom to calm your burning lungs, your breath erratic, audible.

But the pressure did not let up for long, merely re-emerging in lower territories, her free hand smoothing over your pussy and inducing a loudened moan.

"Fuck."

With time stacked against you, Emily could not afford to subject you to the prolonged suffering that she loved so much, the pads of her fingers soon pressed to your folds. A menacing grin tugged at her lips, her cheeks swelling as she noted the sheer abundance of arousal. A stifled grunt exuded from her, your eyes flickering to acknowledge that she appeared to be as voracious as you were, undeniably pleased to find you drenched, delighted to be the cause of it.

"Filthy girl can't stop herself from getting wet," she growled, "so pathetic, baby."

"Daddy, please," you begged, twisting your neck against her palm in a helpless bid to coax her into compliance, "Squeeze harder."

And Emily delivered, your expectations surpassed as your eyes widened in shock, the bones in your neck appearing to rearrange from the brutality of her grasp. It was heaven and hell combined, the torturous motion of her fingers toying with your clit causing reality to elude you in its entirety. Pleasure burrowed into every pore, lungs burning for alleviation as you dragged in tiny, futile bursts of oxygen, eyes flickering as your mind soared, detached from you.

"And you thought you could overpower me?" Emily huffed out in irony, three ruthless digits shoving their way inside of you and prying your eyes wide. "Not very smart are you, princess," she gibed, her nimble fingers curling deliberately without warning, "you only think about getting fucked, huh? Mindless little thing."

The rigorousness of her action had you elevating to your tiptoes, frantic to encourage her into a deeper invasion of you. This thoughtless bliss was where you prayed to remain, to live out your days, with Emily intruding every part of you. You were positively addicted, relinquishing all control to her ministrations, a smile pinned to her lips as she denied you of breath and regifted it at her own accord.

The sound of punishing fingers wading through your arousal engulfed the quiet, joined by the shameless squeals that fled from you. The consequences of your volume would surely be rectified later, and would probably exist in the shape of Emily's hand spanking you red, raw. You didn't care, didn't have the energy inside of you to put up much of a fight now, your self-control reduced to tatters with no sign of reassembling just yet.

"Close, Daddy," you mumbled, your voice stifled, trembling. "Please."

A cloudy fuzz filled your eyes, Emily's silhouette eclipsed as you succumbed to the dizziness that lapped at you. The ceaseless pounding of her fingers kept you on the cusp of alertness, each swipe of your clit rousing your conscious mind into waking.

"Cum for Daddy," Emily cooed, her lips etching flitting kisses into your cheek, her grip on your throat loosening ever so slightly. "Good girl, cum for me, princess."

And as your climax swept you up, her hand retracted from your throat to muffle the screams that spilled, unchecked, fading against her palm as you floated away. You didn't want to return, lost amongst the stars that sparkled in your vision, shooting around until they gradually ebbed away. Emily withdrew first, suckling ardently on the arousal that covered her digits, triumph fulgurating in her orbs.

"Ready for target practice?" She questioned, cockily, studying your disheveled state with an unrivalled satisfaction. "You know, you can always sit this one out if you're not in the right... state of mind."

"Oh, I'm ready, Prentiss," you retaliated, determination falling to mask your state of disarray as you readjusted your clothing with a cunning smirk. "I just can't wait to watch you lose to me twice."

Emily paused, dumbfounded as you barged her out of the way, your shoulder purposely colliding with her. An audible scoff escaped her, frenzied footsteps soon to follow behind you.

"Okay, now you're really in trouble."

––--– ♡ –––--

––--– ♡ –––--

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 13: Attic, Cellar, Hidden Rooms

A/N: I took a bit of creative liberties here and decided that the batcave is close enough to a cellar and/or hidden room and the clocktower is close enough to an attic 😅 - mod angel

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re helping Oracle with patrol watch until you need to comfort a mildly injured vigilante.

~~~

You never thought you’d be able to see vigilantes in action like this. But, considering you were already aware of everyone’s identities at this point, and with how close you had become with everyone, you were invited to help watch over everyone on patrol. 

Barbara had invited you to the clocktower one day, saying she could use an extra pair of eyes while everyone was out on patrol. Really, she probably just overheard you say how much you wished you could see everyone in action. 

The first thing you noticed when you entered the room was all the monitors. Various tracking maps, security cameras, databases… all on huge screens that towered over you. 

“Whoa…” you breathed, awestruck. 

Barbara turned her head towards you, smiling. “Welcome to my utopia,” she announced with a flourish of her hands. 

You walked over to her desk, really getting a feel for all the technology in the room. You ran your fingers over the table, feeling the smooth wood under your skin. All that was on the desk was a keyboard. There was no need for paper with all those monitors, you guessed. 

“Impressive,” you muttered, transfixed by watching all the movement on the screens. “What happens if the power goes out?”

“Very powerful generators,” she replied, gesturing to one that was sitting under the desk. “We have quite the budget.”

“Right,” you laughed lightly, crouching down next to the desk. “So, what am I looking at?”

She started pointing out each part of the monitors: the locations, which of the moving dots corresponded to which person, the cases that were currently being worked on…

“Oracle,” you suddenly heard a familiar voice coming from Barbara’s comm link. “I need sights on a group of robbers near Gotham National Bank. I’m in pursuit, trying to keep myself out of their sight, and I need to know where I can cut them off.”

“I’ll get right on that, Hood,” she replied, sounding very professional as she started clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hood?” You asked her quietly, looking at the dot on the map she said was Jason moving very quickly away from the bank. She nodded without breaking her concentration. 

Almost without thinking, you started shouting, “Hi Ja-“ you cut yourself off, suddenly remembering the circumstances you were in when Barbara gave you a stern look. “Hi Red Hood!” You shouted, fixing yourself. 

“Huh?” You heard him reply, confused. “Is that- AH!” 

Suddenly, you heard a loud crash! and saw the dot on the map stop abruptly. You widened your eyes and covered your mouth in shock.

“… Hood?” Barbara asked as you looked at each other, her eyebrows raised. 

“Shit,” he groaned, and you could hear the clanking of metal from around him. “Uh… yeah, I don’t think I’m catching those robbers,” he sighed. “Is anyone else around? I’m going back to the Batcave.”

There was various chatter over the comms, from what you could hear over Barbara’s laughing, before one of the other dots on the map started moving towards where Jason was. 

“You wanna go meet him there?” Barbara asked, covering her comm for a second. 

“Do I wanna…?” You repeated quietly, your eyes widening. “Uhh, am I allowed in the Batcave?”

She shrugged. “Batman’s not there. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She started clacking on her keyboard again. “I can give you access. I trust you.”

“O… okay…” you muttered, standing up. “I guess I’ll just… go there, then…” You never thought you’d be allowed in the Batcave. It was kind of exciting. 

You followed the directions Barbara gave you, eventually going through some secret tunnels and emerging in a huge, yet oddly well-kept cave. Computers, training equipment, and various vehicles were in their designated places. The place was basically devoid of people, except for…

“Fuck,” you heard a familiar groan, making you stifle a laugh. His steps echoed throughout the quiet cave, sounding like they were coming closer to you. 

You popped out of where you had been standing behind a car, making Jason drop his helmet. That made you really start laughing. 

“Jesus, why are you surprising me so much today?” He asked as you moved closer to him. He looked like he was holding back a smile. “Are you even allowed to be here?”

You shrugged, tucking yourself into his side. “Oracle let me in.”

“Of course she did,” he replied, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Nothing is sacred to that girl.”

As you got a better look at his face, you frowned. Bruises were starting to form on his cheek. “What happened, by the way?” You asked, pointing to them. 

He grit his teeth, looking at you pointedly. “I was chasing people when someone distracted me, and I…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “I ran into a bunch of trash cans.”

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh hysterically, but absolutely failing.

“Hey, don’t laugh,” he rolled his eyes, a slight grin on his face. “It’s your fault.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you shook your head, gently tracing the bruises. “It’s alright, I can make it better.” You stood up on your tiptoes to press a little kiss to his cheek. 

He scoffed, looking like he was blushing a bit as he looked away from you. “I’m not five, that’s not going to work.” He ruffled your hair, making you giggle. “I’ll be fine, no major damage. I’ve been through a lot worse,” he sneered. 

You rolled your eyes. “Not everything has to be about your death,” you poked him in the side, making him laugh. “C’mon, let’s go see Alfred for some first aid.”

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

I don’t think people understand how smart Leon actually is. That man had high marks from the police academy, hence why Chief Irons (in the orientation letter Leon has in RE2R) says that his grades are commendable and that R.P.D. are proud to have him on the force.

This got me thinking a lot because at first I thought being a police officer didn’t take much given that anyone today can be in the force.

But that wasn’t the case in 1998.

I did a little research because I thought it would be interesting to see just what Leon had to go through to become a police officer.

Back in the 90s, cellphones and modern technology didn’t exist such as DNA identification and body cams/car cams. This definitely made the job a bit harder than it is today because there was a need for more evidence to be collected and the overuse of your brain. Nowadays, technology is an important factor in the police force and almost everything is done by the computer now.

So let’s picture this: It’s the late 90s right before he got sent to Raccoon City. He’s in the academy and he has to go through training. Especially with weapons since most academies switched from revolvers to semi-auto guns (already something a bit modern for that time).

For those who’ve played the game, when you go into the Shooting Range room, you can clearly see just how old the room is compared to modern shooting ranges. Not only is the design of the target paper old, it’s also very simplistic compared to today’s (in 2024, most markings have numbers and more lines for accuracy than back in the day).

This meant that Leon had to train a good amount of time to perfect his aim. It also meant that he had to go through driving training—which was mostly Emergency Vehicle Operations Courses (EVOC: safe and defensive driving for cops in other words)

I’d like to think that his determination (when he told Ada that the reason he joined the force was for people like Emma and Gunshop owner) really helped him advance through his academic route of the training and I’d like to believe that he go high scores because of that.

The 90s were a pivotal time for new policies to be introduced in police academies. When Leon was a kid, presumably during the 80s, he probably saw just how different it was back then than it is now (in 1998) lots of “new” technology were introduced to him when he first started the training. And he probably had to adapt quickly to the technologies and new techniques.

Leon is quick on his feet, he grasps a lot of things and I’m tired of people making him out to be as some dumb blonde with muscles. He’s very smart and we see that throughout the games and films.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he was GT when he grew up.

EDIT: MB YALL😭 GT is a program for students K-12 where they’re put in advanced classes like AP or IB. It stands for Gifted and Talented (something like the Magnet Program in some schools in the US)

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Five: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, arm/hand kink, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, suicide/death metaphor[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is and always will be the most romantic man to exist, that is all. Psycho!Stalker!Ani loves counting idk he just does & I know it.[diary entries from Ani] [texts from Luke] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

You’d better be glad I’m patient, or else you’d have another dead neighbor.

When I heard the *wwoop* of your phone sending out a text on my computer I didn’t check it immediately. Until I heard four *pings* in quick succession.

‘Lukey, call me.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m in class.’

‘10 mins’

‘Or emergency?’

Remember how I said I like Luke? I like him a little bit less. Who texts like that… just write a sentence like a normal person. One sentence.

‘emergency!!’

Emergency? The panic that flooded my veins was icy-hot as I frantically pulled up a the live feed of your home and blasted the volume.

Nothing.

You were just sitting on the couch snacking on those Extra Toasty Cheezits that you love so much. (Cheezits was a marketing genius for that though, profiting off burnt ones because little weirdos like you lived for that one random burnt piece at the bottom of the bag. Goofy girl.)

That doesn’t seem very ‘emergency!!’ to me. Unless you’ve run out of Cheezits, but you haven’t. I would know.

I chewed my nails, paced the floor, and wrung out my hands. I couldn’t just walk over there and say ‘Hey! Just wanted to make sure you’re okay cause I cloned your phone and saw a concerning text! How can I help?’.

You seemed fine, you weren’t crying, you didn’t look upset. You just started scrolling through Instagram reels and rapid-fire sending them to your sister as if she’d actually watch them all. We all know she won’t, but if you ask she’ll say she did.

‘step out. emergency!!’

‘no, give me 4. it can wait.’

Jesus Luke, are you trying to make me dislike you? I can’t believe you’d make her wait like that. The girl said it’s an emergency. That means pick up the fucking phone, dial her fucking number and say ‘I’m on my way, what’s going on?’

Drop everything and fucking run. I’d jump from a moving train if I got that text from you. Train station who? I have two legs and I can run pretty fast as long as I have the right motivation.

Pass a kid on a bike? ‘Scuse me I’m commandeering this vehicle.’ I’d be the fucking flash with pink tassels and purple glow wheels.

‘Now!!’

The suspense was literally killing me. I was withering away with worry.

‘if it’s the guy again I swear to god.’

Guy? What guy? What had I missed? There was a guy in your life that wasn’t me?

‘just fucking call me.’

Yeah, you heard the girl. Fucking call her already.

“No he did not.” Luke scoffed, as if what you’d told him was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard in ages.

“I swear. I swear he did!” You giggled folding over on the couch.

“There’s no way a straight man did that for you and didn’t try to fuck.” Luke laughed. “I don’t believe you. You’re delusional.”

“I am not!” You defended, not actually hurt by his comment but wanting to prove him wrong anyway.

“I literally don’t believe you.” He let out a snort and whispered something to Han on the other end of the line. “Han said he’s still set on Ben for you.”

“I told you I am not interested. There’s a reason I never texted him!” You retorted.

“Yeah because you lost his number you pea-brain.” He teased.

“No.” You said with a slightly haughty tone. “I happen to believe it was just the universe telling me it wasn’t meant to be.”

“That’s a really good justification for loosing his number.” Han’s voice came through the speaker slightly muffled from his distance.

“Shut up both of you. You’re horrible.” You laughed. “I’m sticking to it. The universe said no and I’m no match for the powers that be, m’kay?”

“Sure babes.” Luke said, you could almost hear his stupid little smirk.

“Anyway. Yes, look I’ll send you a picture of the book okay?” You hopped up quickly and snapped a picture to send to Luke’s phone. “Cause I can’t exactly send you a picture of him helping me with my groceries.”

“Mmhmm I know because it didn’t happen.” Luke said flatly. “Hard to get a picture of a hallucination.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, Luke was just being protective. It’s not like he was wrong, most men wouldn’t do something like that out of the kindness of their heart.

“This would be so much easier if you had an iPhone. You might be hideous but I still miss your face.” You teased, hearing Han’s booming laugh in the background.

“Whatever.” Luke grumbled, “okay, so what am I looking at here?”

“See it’s this collection of paper that has typed out wo-“

“Smartass. I mean: what’s so… cool? about it?” He interrupted.

“It’s a special edition. $50. He just gave me a special edition book without a second thought.” You said excitedly. “Remember I lost my copy not too long ago?”

“Mmm yeah I think I remember.” He said noncommittally. “You should really keep up with your shit.”

“Hey I’m doing better!” You retorted. “My life is so put together right now. You’d be amazed.”

“Delusional Han I’m telling you.” He snickered quietly.

“Oh my god! Have you no faith in me at all?” You scoffed. “I haven’t forgotten to charge my phone or take my medicine. I’ve kept everything tidy. All my important stuff stays in my bag.”

“You’ve been possessed.” Luke gasped.

“Fuck. If I have then I’ve got the sweetest demon the 7th circle could provide.” You joked. “I’ve even been sleeping better, I think maybe even boogie is happier too. She’s started sitting at the living room window to watch the pigeons again.”

“Aw, my niece.” He crooned. “My *favorite* niece.”

“What about leia’s new-“

“I said what I said.” Luke interrupted.

Diary Entry: July 8th

The way you gushed about me on the phone was everything I could’ve asked for and more. I’ve never been so fucking proud of myself. I feel like I could… I don’t know lift a fucking car or something. I feel good. This is a good feeling, to be appreciated like this.

I want you to know how happy you’ve made me today.

To hear your voice, see your face, watch your body language as you spoke about how we met and our little chat today. I could live off purely that for days. Your giggle is nourishment for my soul, your voice is honey to drink with my tea, your beauty is the sugar in the much-to-big spoon I’d use to stir it with.

That’s what life with you would be like. Tea time. It’s soft, I always think of tea time as being soft; a big blanket of comfort and security. I just feel like it’s the perfect metaphor.

You are the ingredients. The tea leaves, honey, sugar, and water.

I am the the cup and life, fate, whatever it may be, is the spoon.

Can you use all of those things separately? Sure. But would it make much sense to pour hot water on a pile of dry leaves, drizzle some honey and sprinkle sugar into a goopy puddle right on the kitchen counter?

Would it be enjoyable to drink air from a small cup and leave the spoon lonely and unused?

No.

You need me to hold you; you are so many things. All of them are perfect and all of them are uniquely you. But when joined together in a secure little cup you’ll have the opportunity to mesh those things into something new.

A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it. Cold and empty ceramic. Sturdy and reliable although delicate when handled irresponsibly.

Fill me with you. All of you.

You’ve already started that you know? Each tea leaf is a tidbit of you.

Your likes and dislikes. Your happiest memories and even your sad ones, your angry moments, your bad days. I love and cherish even the deepest caverns and widest chasms in your beautiful mind. Without them, you wouldn’t be you.

Please believe me when I say that even if the leaves are crumpled or incomplete… it doesn’t mean that they won’t make tea.

Honey, my favorite. Your personality. God you’re so fucking sweet it hurts. Your voice, those lovely lips that speak such well written poetry.

My love, everything you say is a hymn.

I wasn’t a religious man before you. My Goddess, I fall to my knees at the altar for you. Speak to me and you’ll sing to my very soul. Tell me truth, tell me lies, tell me those things that float through the nether. I’ll take it all as gospel.

Ask of me anything and I will spill blood, even if it is my own, to provide you with whatever you wish.

I never understood why honey was akin to the nectar of the gods until I met you.

Now I understand. To taste you is to taste life. To smell you is to breathe freely. To feel you is to be soothed.

Sugar. Do you know how many grains of sugar are in the average tablespoon? Around 60,000. The human eye processes visuals at the average rate of 13 milliseconds per image. Even faster if presented with an image that invokes emotion. Though for the purposes of math, we will go with 13 milliseconds.

13 milliseconds is about 75 frames per second. 60 seconds in one minute. 4,500 frames.

If the average tablespoon holds 60,000 grains of sugar that’s 270,000,000 frames per second.

4,500,000 minutes. 75,000 hours. 3,125 days. About 102 months. Alittle over 8 years.

I use 3 tablespoons of sugar per cup of tea.

That means by our 25 anniversary I will have been graced with every grain of your beauty.

By then I’ll probably need a few more spoonfuls if I plan to survive raising children with you. If they’re as hyperactive as you get sometimes I’ll fucking need it.

Oh well. Just more time for me to bask in your beauty.

All these things have filled me, your cup. All that I need now is water. Your love.

The kind of love that burns so hot that it bubbles up beneath your skin and makes you itch if you’re apart for too long.

That’s what happens when water boils, the atoms separate and bounce around until they come back together as the water cools.

Just like us.

I’m the flame that’s heating your water, the closer I get the hotter it’ll grow until it’s rattling the kettle, screaming to be let out and bring all the pieces together.

Adding that boiling water, your love. It will bring life to me. You’ll warm the cold ceramic shell that I’ve been for so long. Fragile and lonely and horribly handled. I might have a few chips but the foundation is strong and worthy.

A cup is just a cup if there’s nothing in it.

You give me purpose. You make me useful.

I will let our love steep. Let it steep, because you can’t make tea without all the ingredients and a water-worthy cup.

We will stir it and stir it and stir it until the the hand of fate declares us ready, I will be there for you at the *clink* of the spoon against my rim.

I will be there after to hold you until the very last sip.

I will be there until I am broken beyond repair.

If the last sip happens before my ceramic cracks… I will be quick to join you after slipping through the hands of fate.

It’s a long winded way to say that I love you, but if you wanted, I would memorize it and recite it for you every night before drift to sleep.

Diary Entry: July 12th

You’re so cute.

I don’t know how you haven’t noticed that your laundry detergent should’ve run out ages ago. I giggle like a school girl everytime I see you at the laundromat holding it up to measure it out.

I’ve started washing my stuff in the same as you, I love the way your laundry smells.

But I love the way you smell even more.

You just bought some new sheets recently and I took the liberty of ordering the same ones. What luck that we both use a queen size bed huh? The cutesy little strawberry print isn’t exactly my style but I don’t give a shit. The giddy way you opened up your package was nothing short of adorable.

You know what else is super handy about using the same detergent?

You won’t notice when I switch them out.

You’re washing them for the first time today since you just received them in the mail yesterday. I know you’re so excited to put them on and make your pretty pink bed up, I’m amazed you had the patience to wait until today to go to the laundromat. It’s open 24/7, proud of you baby. Prioritizing that good deep sleep you’ve been getting.

You’re welcome, and thank you.

Watching you sleep from the end of the bed is one of my favorite things. It just… I don’t know it makes me feel comforted to be there. It’s the closest thing to sleeping next to you that I can get right now. Then I’ll be getting some good deep sleep.

It’s hard for me to rest if I can’t reach out and make sure you’re safe.

The audio from your room is wonderful ASMR though. Your snores and snuffles and the rustling of blankets while you sprawl out and occupy as much space as your body can manage; it’s soothing to me.

Partially because I know you’re okay, partially because I was able to give you that deep rest.

You wash your sheets once a week because you love the feeling of fresh warm linens. It’s the simple pleasures of life that bring you the most joy. That’s something I adore about you.

So here’s the plan. I’m a man of my word and I promised you a reward for all your hard work didn’t I? I’m also a man who enjoys the killing of two birds with one stone.

Life goes so much more smoothly if you take the time to line up the shot.

That’s why I immediately ordered my own set as soon as I checked your Amazon account. Mine arrived today too and I’ll be stopping by the laundromat just as you’re leaving. I’ve left them in the box and put it at the bottom of my basket though, I don’t want to ruin the surprise you know?

I’m so glad I was able to hear your little chat with your friends. Not only was it a wonderful reassurance, it also allowed me to plan our encounters more closely together. I’ve made myself known to you, I’ve spaced out our previous meetings well enough to leave you wishing you’d catch me out in the hallway even for a quick hello.

Trust me I have been dying to indulge you. But if this whole relationship has taught me anything it’s: trust the process.

See you soon princess, my timer just went off. I’ll be there just in time to watch you nuzzle your face into the last warm item of clothing from the dryer before tossing it in the basket.

Date:

July 12th

You were tossing the last of your clean laundry into the basket when the bell above the door jingled. Purely out of habit you glanced over, instead of the usual stranger or semi-familiar face, it was Anakin.

He seemed not to notice you straight away, keeping his head down and walking to the washer/dryer set closest to the front window.

It was shameful the way you took this opportunity to stare and soak him up. His whole physique just screamed at the primal parts of your brain. The parts that want you to sprint across the laundromat and l seduce him into ravaging you right up against the glass he stood near. Who cares who sees? You’d be beyond proud to be spotted in the throes of passion as long as it was him who was behind you.

The way his arms moved should be illegal. How is it possible for someone to be so… lean? The veins that and corded tendons that roll beneath his skin become even more visible as his wrist gives way to his hands.

Wide palms that would be perfect for grabbing a handful of your ass. Gripping your hips to guide you down onto what you can only assume is an equally impressive cock.

Long fingers as the most elegantly carved necklace. Fingertips that could trace swirling patterns across the vast expanse of your skin. Those same fingertips caressing the slick and swollen folds that just so happened to be in desperate need of his attention.

How could you not be a puddle of a person when he locks eyes with you like that? Like he’s reading the transcript of your soul, his eyes never stayed in one place too long. He needed to take in as much of you as possible each and everytime he was in your company.

How could you not forget how to speak when he walks over to you with such confidence? His towering frame would be intimidating if he didn’t radiate comfort. He seemed like he knew he had that affect on you, or maybe he was just one of those clueless types. That special kind of man who doesn’t realize what a catch they are.

“What’s up sweet girl?” He asked with that same gritty tone that had you feigning for him in ways he’d find unholy.

“Hey Anakin.” You managed to tone down the smile that instantly spread across your face. “I was just about to leave…”

“Well isn’t that a shame.” He chuckled, his eyes darting from your lips to your eyes and back again before he looked up and away. Stretching his arm up behind his head to rub his neck.

“Hmm yeah it is.” You murmured, too distracted by the tiny sliver of skin and dark hair the peaked out from beneath the hem of his shirt.

“Eyes up baby.” He teased, his finger tapping the underside of your chin before you could even register his hand was coming toward you.

‘Jesus Christ.’

If he can make your knees this weak from a few words… it’s almost concerning to think of the state you’d be in after he rearranges your guts.

The blush on your cheeks could’ve been mistaken for a sunburn, never had you felt so fucking embarrassed and flustered at the same time. You couldn’t even be mad.

“Let me help, yeah?” He said, choosing to glaze over your blatant staring and not push it farther with the teasing comments.

Truly a gentleman.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah.” You nodded. “Thanks.”

You managed a soft smile as your brain attempted to rewire itself into working condition again. He closed the dryer and placed your detergent and fabric softener beads into your basket and carried them over to his washer/dryer combo, expecting you to follow.

He sat it down near one of the many metal folding chairs lining the wall and turned to you again, his expression one of concern? Worry? Apprehension?

“You okay sweetheart?” He asked gently. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “Uncomfortable? No, no.” You shook your head in realization that he must’ve assumed he’d struck a nerve with his flirtatious comment.

“You sure?” He asked.

Somehow his hands, those strong hands that you just knew would feel like heaven on your skin, had made their way to your biceps. Slowly traveling the length of your forearm to hold both of your hands in his, your fingers curved over his while his thumb rubbed your knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You nodded, shooting him a bashful smile.

His eyes searched your face like he was scanning for even the most minuscule change in expression, any twitch of your lip or shift in your line of sight that might say otherwise. When he was sure you were being truthful he spoke again.

“Alright princess,” he conceded with a warm tone. “you sticking around or headed out?”

“I’d stay to chat for a bit if I could, but I’ve gotta clock-in, in about… 45mins.” You said, thankful for the change in subject.

Anakin never failed to both confuse and amaze you. Every fucking time you spoke to him. You were tired of telling yourself he was just too damn good to be true, fuck it, he is that good.

In all your years, you’d never had a man check-in with you like that and in such a caring and considerate way… you couldn’t have dreamed up a man like this. It was a small detail of his character, but it made a world of a difference.

If you would’ve said ‘yes, that made me uncomfortable.’ you had no doubt in your mind that he would apologize and mean it. He’d mean it, apologize with his whole chest and make sure that it never ever happened again.

That was the kind of comfort and security that only a fictional love could provide.

But here he is.

In the flesh.

Maybe hearing about this, Luke might change his mind. Luke was only doing his job as your best friend and protector, shielding you from the dangers of the average Brad that you’d dated in the past. But…

Anakin’s not that kinda guy.

“You know, I don’t think you’ve ever told me where you work.” Anakin pointed out.

“Huh, I guess I haven’t.” You realized. “Bluebird Diner. It’s a good place to eat, yummy pie.”

“Oh yeah I’ve been there before!” Anakin said happily, “that butterscotch pie is so good, oh my god.”

“Right?” You agreed excitedly. “That’s my favorite. I’ll have to tell Rosa that she’s getting compliments on it. She’ll be thrilled.”

“Maybe I’ll grab a slice later.” Anakin suggested. “Before I have to go clock-in.”

“Where do you work?” You asked, finding it a bit comical that you were drooling over him but didn’t even know this basic detail of his life.

“The Cerulean.” Anakin nodded toward the window. “Just a couple blocks from here.”

“The Cerulean? What do you do, bartend?” You asked, curious as alittle itch in the back of your mind needed to be scratched.

“Mhm, I do.” He smiled.

“I think… oh my god. I think I’ve seen you there before!” You laughed. “It was a while back but I was there with some friends… you made my drink!”

“Really?” Anakin laughed. “Shit don’t make me feel bad baby, I don’t remember that.”

“I didn’t expect you too.” You giggled. “The place was packed. I can’t imagine how many people you serve a night.”

“You’ve got no idea.” He blew out a puff of air, with a chuckle.

“Well I’m due for a night out soon,” you said with a grin. “You come grab some pie later and I’ll come get a drink from you tomorrow night.”

“Sounds like a deal princess.” He beamed.

Part Six

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[mikkomacko]

begging for more johnny jack luke and reader just being chaotic or something please

“Mr. Hischier?”

Nico grunts into the phone, focus remaining on reviewing the product inventory in front of him. He marks off a box of goods from Switzerland sent by Luca, and then another. Timo and Lazar stack them on their specific pallet before returning to the drop off dock for more.

“This is the Hoboken police department calling,” Nico freezes, pen going slack in his hand and alarm bells are immediately going off in his head. Obviously something terrible has happened, you’ve gotten in an accident and are in a coma, someone broke into the house and hurt you and the dingbats Nico left with you, you fell on your run this morning and knocked yourself conscious, you choked on a bagel at breakfast and had to be resuscitated, you-

“I was calling to let you know that I’ve got three of your boys and your wife down here, and you’re listed as her emergency contact.”

“What happened?” Nico asks, motioning Jonas over and handing over his inventory list. He’s patting at his pockets for his keys and wallet, wondering where the fuck his phone is. “Is she ok?”

Oh right, he realizes, huffing to himself. “Yeah they’re fine sir. We picked them up in the abandoned lot off 32nd-“ the street the boys live on, right by the loft Nico bought them. “-they were running messing around and accidentally ran each other over.”

Unamused, Nico scoffs and shakes his head. “They ran each other over?” He says incredulously, then pauses. “Did those clowns run my girl over?”

The man-officer laughs. “No sir, she was in the vehicle. And no one is hurt, just a little banged up but ya know we had to bring em in, even if they’re yours.”

Nico and the police department have an agreement. They don’t fuck with his boys, Nico doesn’t fuck with them. And they get a heavy donation every month to the training department, and drinks at the bar whenever they want. Nico doesn’t tell them this, but he gives even more the fire department and hospital to make sure his guys are always prioritized. Lucky for him, the department hasn’t realized Nico skimps on them.

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees, running a hand through his hair. It’s fine, he can leave the guys here to finish inventory while he goes to pick you and the three stooges up.

“Had a rookie take the car to the Rock instead of impound, but we can’t let these ones out without your signature.”

“Yeah,” he says again. “I’ll be right there.”

~~~~

“Atta boy Luke, it looks really good.”

“I think my ass is bruised,” the scuffle of shoes sounds down the brick hall. “Will you check y/n?”

“I don’t really want to see your ass Luke.”

Nico rounds the corner, unimpressed hands on his hips when he sees the scene in front of him. You, Luke, Jack, and Johnny are all locked in the holding cell, not that it’s stopping you from looking like idiots.

You’re huddled in a ball on the metal bench, hands held out in defense and eyes squeezed shut in disgust as Luke sticks his ass out at you, fingers on the button of his jeans. He’s covered in dirt and there’s a rip on his shoulder, a bruise on the left side of his face.

He must’ve been the one you guys ran over.

Marino has his phone out, a wicked smile on his face as he films you shoving Luke away. “Make Jack do it!” You whine, kicking at Luke’s knee until it wobbles.

“Eww that’s very taboo of you, I don’t want to see my brother’s ass.” Jack cries, then he’s narrowing his gaze at you. “Does Nico know the dirty thoughts in that head? Because I always thought he was the nasty one-“

“Hey!” Nico barks, and you all go rigid and silent. In unison, every head turns to look at him, a series of timid and apologetic eyes peering through the bars. Not yours though, that are instead looking at him like he’s a single ray of sunshine coming through the clouds on a rainy day.

He waits for someone to speak, but no one does. Finally the officer that called him retrieves his keys, metal jingling as he sticks them in the lock. All four of you rise to your feet.

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head, pointing to you. “Just her.” The boys all groan, sitting back on the bench while you clamber to your feet. The door gets unlocked, you step up to Nico with a shy smile, fluttering your pretty eyes at him. It takes all his will power to just stare down at you, expression neutral.

Nico juts his head to side, motioning you down the hallway. He sends the boys one last warning look before gripping the back of your neck, not harsh or painfully, but firm enough that he feels all the muscles in your body relax.

He’s not really sure how he’s supposed to show authority like this in front of the boys when you seem to enjoy it far too much, but what else can he do?

The officer passes them, returning to the front desk and Nico directs you through a door, into an interrogation room. The door slams shut behind him, heavy and loud. Nico guides you to the chair, urging you to sit. You do so politely, hands folded in your lap and eyes following him as he sits across from you.

All he has to do is raise a prodding eyebrow.

“Jack wasn’t supposed to hit him that hard,” you say, not much of an explanation. You must be able to tell, cringing before starting over. “We were trying to make a TikTok since my last one kinda blew up, and it was that scene from The Office, where Michael hits Meredith.

“Except Jack gots a heavy foot and he didn’t give Luke enough time to jump on the hood so he just kinda hit him and I guess someone saw and called 9-1-1 and then Mercer ran away-“

“So Dawson was a part of this too?”

You shrink in on yourself, frowning apologetically. “He was filming Luke outside the car, and then we heard sirens and he just took off back to the loft.”

Nico sighs, running a hand down his face and you tilt your head, eyes big and beautiful, and everything about you so pretty and sweet. He wonders how they managed to put you in a cell without feeling guilty.

“‘Three of my boys and my wife’,” he repeats the officer’s words, trying not to smile when you blush. “What a sentence to hear from a police station.”

Bashful, you flutter your eyelashes at him again. “I thought maybe they’d let us go if I said I was a Hischier.”

That damned smile breaks through, dimpling at his cheeks and crinkling by his eyes. “You are a Hischier,” he murmurs, “just be careful who you’re running over under that name, yeah?”

You smile back, so proud and happy looking that it makes his chest ache and he has to remind himself that he’s here because you in all your sweet innocence, ran over one of the boys.

A sharp shrill rings out in the cold and sterile room, the signature apple ringtone coming from your lap, and you dig your phone out, laughter glinting in your eyes as you answer.

“Hello,” you answer, introducing yourself and Nico watches you, curiously. “What a coincidence, I’m already here!”

Nico chuckles in realization. He was your emergency contact, and he can already picture you heading in here with his name on your tongue, demanding they call him or they’ll be sorry.

And by the look on your face, you’re the emergency contact of the other three idiots here. At least Mercer was smart enough to pump his legs if he’s going to be stupid. Although Nico would prefer that he doesn’t ditch you again in a crisis, especially because it’s his job to protect you.

You hang up, giggling. “Time to bail out my boys,” you cheer. “At least Luke. Poor baby needs to get some ice on his butt.”

“And his face,” Nico snorts. “I get to see that video right?”

“Oh yeah. I’m already asking for the security cam footage in the parking lot too.”