#I ain't tagging all these fuckers

[xtremememeteam]

F1 Drivers as Country songs

Nico Hulkenburg: International Harvester - Craig Morgan

Kevin Magnussen: Chattahoochee - Alan Jackson

Daniel Ricciardo: I Hope You Hit Traffic - Jaron and the Long Road to Love

Yuki Tsunoda All Jacked Up - Gretchen Wilson

Lewis Hamilton: White Liar - Miranda Lambert

George Russell: I Wanna Talk About Me - Toby Keith

Logan Sargeant: If You're Going Through Hell - Rodney Atkins

Bonus : Better Class of Losers - Randy Travis

Alex Albon: She's in Love With the Boy - Trisha Yearwood

Carlos Sainz: Mama's Broken Heart - Miranda Lambert

Charles Leclerc: I'm Gonna Getcha Good - Shania Twain

Max Verstappen: That Don't Impress Me Much: Shania Twain

Checo Perez: 9 to 5 - Dolly Parton

Fernando Alonso: Life is a Highway - Rascal Flatts

Lance Stroll: She Thinks My Tractors Sexy - Kenny Chesney

Valtteri Bottas: Hard Workin Man - Brooks & Dunn

Bonus: Brand New Man - Brooks & Dunn

Zhou Guanyu: This One's For the Girls - Martina McBride

Esteban Ocon: Nothin to Lose - Josh Gracin

Pierre Gasly: Drivin My Life Away - Eddie Rabbitt

Lando Norris: East Bound and Down - Jerry Reed

Oscar Piastri: Margaritaville - Jimmy Buffett

*Special Mentions*

Toto Wolff: Fuck you Bitch - Wheeler Walker Jr.

Christian Horner: Goodbye Earl - The Chicks

Taking: Questions

Not Taking: Criticisms

[gremlins-hotel]

fuck you [dragons your silly russian man] | he's the fluffiest which means he's the most fun to draw (for me). also yes. dragons. not apologizing. there are technical things below.

notes about dragon ivan:

his inspirations were sabertooth cats, the siberian tiger, goats & ibexes, polar bears, horses, and reindeer.

a dweller of cold, mountainous foothills and steppes, he possesses curved claws for climbing rocky slopes and gripping ice.

he has a thick double coat; a long, coarse outer layer, and an incredibly soft, downy undercoat. when wet the coat is very heavy. when dry, it efficiently keeps snow away from the skin, instead trapping air close to the body to keep warm. this double coat is good for blocking some attacks from small opponents.

his proportions are stout and stubby to reduce the surface area for heat to be lost.

built for ambush tactics; short bursts of high power to grab and (hopefully) dispatch a target quickly. on the other hand, he would not be good in a long chase.

the same musculature that propels him into a sprint is excellent for leaping across difficult terrain.

his horns, head, and neck are adapted for absorbing significant impacts, usually from headbutting or locking horns with opponents.

massive paws that act as snowshoes and, when swimming, paddles.

he has a flash-freezing breath. technically a fluid, when it contacts the air (if sufficiently cold) it instantly freezes into a stream of frost and will freeze anything it touches. however, if he is too hot, it will only discharge as a fluid and be rather useless. it is very fluid rather than viscous and is somewhat iridescent. in the case of overheating, his other natural defenses can make up for the loss of this weapon.

[lumibuns-blog]

Ghost x Soap's roomie

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

its just two idiots in love at this point and also Soap and Gaz are there too lmao. I have more for this concept on my page or under the tag if you like it💪

Dinner was finished quicker than Simon would have preferred considering he still couldn't get the image of your sly smile out of his head, not to mention the piece of food he was sure was stuck in his throat from the laughing fit you had sent him and Gaz into with your well timed nut-tap. You were intoxicating to him, it was almost insufferable how unable he was to get your voice, your face, your figure, everything, out of his head. He could swear that he's never felt this way before about anyone, ever. It was like the moment he set eyes on you, his mind had made itself up and all he could do was let himself fall even further and further in love with you.

So he now watched as you forced a very upset Soap to do the dishes, not without great effort.

"aw 'bon why tha' hell do I have'ta do this shite it's fuckin feechie" he whined

"'cause I do the cooking, that's the deal we have" you bit back "plus, I've cleaned our bathroom before" you turned to face both Simon and Kyle, Simon couldn't help but notice he was the one you locked eyes with "you wanna see nasty, use the shower when he's finished" you sighed

"oye! Not fair" Johnny warned, an accusing finger pointed towards you "you shed more than a hound when 'ure in there, ya clog the damn drain"

"excuse me! I clean up after myself at least, any hair you find in there is yours!" you yelled back, clearly embarrassed

"nae, ma' hair ain't long with split ends, er' whateva' the hell 'ure always moanin' 'bout in there"

you had half a mind to hit him across the face for that, "I don't know, hairs getting a little long there princess" you teased, gesturing to his grown out mohawk "need to get it trimmed? or you worried they might leave you looking bald again like last time?" you grinned

"awe no way!" Gaz grinned "you got pictures?" he ran over to you. Simon was curious too but didn't make a show of it, settling to sit back with his arms crossed instead, surveying the chaos.

"sure do" you beamed, ready to pull out your phone

"Naw naw!" Johnny scrambled to intercept his friend "nae happenin'"

you flung the phone behind you, out of his reach "then wash the fucking dishes man" you scoffed, shoving the sponge into his chest "thought they called you Soap for a reason?"

"feckin whatever" Johnny groaned, returning to the sink and flicking the tap on

you beamed and turned to head towards your room, calling out your dibs on the shower. Not before holding your phone up to Kyle and Simon, mouthing an 'I'll show you later' before slipping out of view.

"cheeky little mother fucker..." Soap mumbled, the half smile on his face turning into a look of disgust as he touched some wet food.

"so...." Gaz started after a moment "Never did decide where we 'going to be sleepin' mate?"

"well 've only got two beds" Johnny said, back turned to his friends "an' mine can only fit one a you's plus ma'self" he continued "an' like -ell I'm not going to sleepin on 'ma own bed while 'm home , so one ya will have-tae take the couch" he paused "unless the other one wants to bunk up with 'er" he laughed

Simon froze simply at the idea, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable in his slacks at the thought of being right up next to you while you rested. If you were closer would be be able to put his hands of you? trace the contours of your waist with his finger tips, burry his nose in the back of your head and wrap his hulking arms around your smaller figure? Feel the curve of your ass as you pressed against-

he bit the inside of his cheek and gripped the counter top so hard his knuckles turned white, "I'll take the couch" he huffed "'ure smaller anyway" he gestured to Kyle

"Whateva' mate" Gaz rolled his eyes, taking his friends jab in stride.

You had claimed dibs of the shower first because you were well aware that three, probably filthy, men (all of which had to be over 6 feet) were bound to need to use it as well and it would be pointless to try and wash your hair after that disaster.

"I'm done!" you called absentmindedly from the hallway, a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair sticking to your neck and back. Simon had found a very interesting part of the ceiling to focus on while you went back to your room, "try to not blow the thing up, I've got a down payment on this thing" you said, closing the door behind you.

silence fell over the room once again, as all three men glanced between themselves. Gaz was first, he took off at a run towards the bathroom door, determined to be second. Soap started off not more then a moment after him,

"aye ya prick, it's my house this?!" he grabbed for Gaz who held on steady to the door

"exactly mate! we're the guests!" Kyle chided "so be a good host 'an bugger off!"

"Nae 'm not lettin' you's skimp me outta a hot shower" Soap yelled attempting to pull Gaz back, but the man had such a a tight hold on the door he might've pulled out the hinges first.

you reopened the door after hearing the chaos, still in only a towel "the hell is-?" you were cut off almost immediately by ghost stepping in, he grabbed them both by the back collars of their shirts with what seemed like minimal effort, and pulled them off each other.

"Gaz you go first," he growled "Johnny, at least finish drying the bloody dishes before you go runnin' off" he shoved your roommate back into the kitchen

"Lt.! 's no fair he's goin' first! Why do you get to decide?" Soap griped

"on base 'er not, 'm still in charge." Simon said plainly, narrowing his eyes towards his friend, "just be lucky I'm the one yellin' at you for tusslin' around inside"

"In 'ma own home!" Johnny threw his hands up in defeat as Gaz pumped his fist before closing the bathroom door.

for a moment, your eyes met Simon's as you peaked from behind your door and they lingered there. His gaze was so was piercing as he glared from above his mask, that he had (unfortunately) put back in after dinner. His eyes only remained that way for a moment however, for as soon as they met yours, they softened. The harsh lines fell away instantly and his pupils began to dilate when they met yours, not aware you had been watching the whole ordeal.

'why did his eyes have to be so pretty?'

He coughed quickly, tearing his gaze from you before returning to the kitchen himself. Leaving you awe struck, fanning your face behind the closed door of your room.

When it was finally time for him to take a shower, Simon allowed himself a moment of respite in the bathroom before actually cleaning himself off. Away from Johnny's teasing glances and their incessant banter that he hated to admit he had come to be too fond of to reprimand them for, and they knew that all to well. Above all else though, it was a moment to internally process seeing you in nothing but a towel because when he had tried to think it over out there, the evidence of that was all too noticeable. You had looked so fucking good, wet hair, glossy skin, that towel that did absolutely nothing to cover up the swell of your tits as you pressed it to your chest. Even the simple fact that your cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower sent his whole body into overdrive.

'shit- right, the shower.'

He broke from his thoughts to finally enter the shower but that did nothing to aid him in his situation. On the ledge was your shampoo and various other soaps, much like how your side of the sink was covered in various products and bottles he couldn't name even if he tried. Johnny's side had a toothbrush that was joined by Gaz's wash bag, and that was it. In the shower however, he only saw what were clearly your products. He grumbled and opened the door just a crack,

"Either 'a you got any shower gel?" He yelled through the crack, rather embarrassed at his current situation, "lef' mine at base."

"jus' use 'er's!" Johnny called back from his spot on the couch "'s what I do anyway..."

"You what?!" you yelled from across the flat

"dumbass" Kyle scoffed

"kidding, kidding!" Johnny laughed "Mines the one with the green lid mate, ya don' see it?"

"Fuckin hell...neva'mind!" Ghost responded, closing the door again. He swore he wasn't seeing straight. It didn't help that the whole bathroom already smelt like you, your intoxicating scent invading every breath he took. But to use your products? That was some shit couples do, and he had to stop his mind from getting away from him with that fantasy.

Stepping into the shower once more he located Johnny's soap. Spring rain?, no fucking wonder he hadn't noticed it, who would've thought Soap would use something like this? He quickly washed himself and got dressed, rubbing his hair dry with a towel as he exited the bathroom.

You stood in the kitchen, a large sweatshirt dwarfed your frame. You seemed to be waiting for the kettle of the stove to heat up as you noticed his presence.

"oh I can take that" you smiled, walking over to him and holding out your hand to take his towel from him.

He very reluctantly gave it to you, worried it would smell bad or have something gross on it he hadn't even realized. "was just about to start another lode anyway" you chimed, opening up the closet door and throwing it in the machine before starting it.

Simon couldn't help himself "Colors I'm assuming?" he joked

you whipped around to face him "Now don't you start" you scolded, but the smile and deep red of your cheeks was unmistakable, "Johnny's enough to deal with on his own" you headed back to your kettle

"'m sorry, I'll try to be less of a pain in the arse to ya than he is" Simon chuckled

"that's a low bar" you laughed dully "but thank you"

Simon found conversation to flow freely with you, like it does with the rest of his team but only after he had gotten close to them. He had only known you for a day but still found it so natural to speak to you (if he ignored the deafening sound of his heartbeat and the massive lump in his throat).

"want any tea?" your offer broke the silence as you grinned and held up the now boiling kettle.

"uh- sure" he nodded, was his heart getting louder?

you tossed open one of the cupboards "pick your poison" you chirped, gesturing the stocked shelf of teas.

he rounded the island to inspect the selection, peering over you in such a way that his form eclipsed yours and forced you to move back against the counter top. You held your breath.

"'ere" he handed a small tin containing a non-caffeinated herbal blend down to you and stepped away "is it any good?" he asked, pointing lazily at the tin that you now held.

you tried to shrug your flustered feelings away "Better be, 's what I'm having" you turned to grab him a mug from the shelf.

Simon smiled to himself at the knowledge he picked the same type of tea as you purely by coincidence. Moments later you were handing it to him, "here ya go Ghost" you said placing the hot mug in front of him

"Simon." he responded plainly

"Hm?" you tilted your head a bit

"Simon's fine, ya don't need to be calling me that 'Ghost' shit 'ere" he was staring holes into the kitchen island, wondering if it was weird for him to be asking you to call him by his given name.

"Alright, Simon it is then" you beamed, not missing a beat

christ his name sounded so good when you said it

"sorry guess it was just habit, seeing as thats what Johnny calls you whenever he's home"

"'s fine" he mumbled, a brief pause hung in the air as you both took your first sips of tea. You were right, it was good.

"where they at anyway?" Simon tried to fill the silence

"probably giggling under the covers by now" you scoffed "why? trying to get rid of me?" you joked

"'s not it" Simon answered quickly

"I know I know- I'm just teasing" you smirk "Johnny told me you were a bit quiet so don't feel pressured to talk 'er anything"

He appreciated the sentiment, but not talking to you was possibly the last thing he wanted to do right now. "What else does the little twat say?" Simon asked, a little gruffer than he intended to sound, but his reputation was on the line here.

"Oh just stories from all the dangerous stuff you all get up to, usually the ones where he can say he was the hero" you fully laughed and it sounded like music to Simon's ears "That and he complains about all the work he has to do, usually when he wants to get out of chores"

"sounds 'bout right" Simon smiled lightly and you could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

At least you didn't think he was some sulking, menacing, edge-lord. I mean he most certainly was most times but he would really prefer it if you didn't think of him like that. Now he just had one more thing to clear up.

"jus' so ya know... I- I didn't use your body wash" he practically had to shove the words out of his mouth he was so tense, but to his surprise you just laughed.

You smiled brightly and waved your hand dismissively, "Don't worry I didn't think you had, I don't blame you for not finding his soap though" you held your mug close to your chest and smiled fondly "He used to use that Head and Shoulder's stuff, you know the one? Anyway, it was nasty so I got him some better stuff and he actually likes it, even if he complains he smells 'like a chick' now" you put that last part in air quotes.

"fair", the soap Simon used on base was Head and Shoulder's. He made a mental note to throw it out and get better stuff the second he got back.

Conversation flowed freely for the next couple minutes as you both finished your drinks, you mostly asked about what it was like living on a military base and he asked about a bit about your graduate studies. Happy just to learn anything about you. When you set your empty mug down on the kitchen counter, he silently glided over with his own and took your mug in his other hand, filling them with water in the sink.

"you really don't have to do that, but thank you" you smiled softly, a yawn escaped you, feeling the tiredness begin to catch up with you.

"don't mind it" he dried his hands off with the kitchen towel. When he looked back at you his heart swelled. you were smiling lightly in the dimly lit kitchen, eyes squinting from even that being too much light. You swayed back and forth slowly, heading nodding slightly every couple of moments. He felt bad for keeping you up but more than that he wished he could just pick you up and whisk you off to bed, curling up next you you and letting you snuggle into his chest. But there was no way he could do something like that, not now anyway, so he settled for the next option

"you look like you're about to fall over love, off to bed now" he said, his voice quiet and gentle as patted you on the back and steered you towards your room.

"aye aye captain" you lazily saluted him and he couldn't help but smile "let me know if ya need anything" you called from the hall "night!"

"yeah g'night" he groaned, shoving himself onto the couch that was much too small for him. He would rather freeze than make you get up to get him another blanket or something. And even though he felt perfectly comfortable he couldn't seem to get to sleep, his heart was just too loud.

*I might make Price come over to give the boys something they left behind just so he can meet/flirt with reader and Simon and get all grumpy and jealous cuz it would be cute <3

Tags:

@sleep101 @urbimom @noisydelusionlove @plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis @jenlvr01 @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno @nina-from-317 @strawberrygateau @leryg0 @weemansoap @dreamtofus @imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader - Part 4

NOTE: smidge of Vox being creepy to Alastor. Nothing explicit or detailed.

----

You had just left the hotel to run some errands for yourself. You told Alastor he wouldn't want to tag along, but he insisted. You told him he'd not like where you were heading to, he didn't listen.

"...So STOP COMPLAINING!" You snapped at him.

Alastor didn't look at you, eyes straight ahead. His smile was strained, his ears pinned back, his posture straight and his arms crossed behind his back.

The two of you were walking through part of the Vees' territory.

"What, do tell, is your reasoning for bringing me here?"

"Are you stupid?" You hissed out "I just- I told you multiple times! I told you 'hey you don't want to go with me i'm heading somewhere you hate'."

"Perhaps I assumed it was an attempt to avoid me."

Your eye twitched. "Okay. Sure. Well, now you know it's not. So leave."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, though he didn't turn his eyes to you. "Oh but if I do now, that tacky picture-box might view it as a surrender...No, no, no. I'm simply going to take my time is all."

"Picture box?"

He let out a little 'hmm'. You didn't know if he thought he was confirming something for you or if he was fully aware you didn't know what he was talking about. Picture box?

"This is your destination?" Alastor said, ear twitching. You turned to look at him, hand on the door of the shop you arrived at. It was an electronics store with various gadgets and gizmos.

"Er. Yeah. I told you-"

"I'll simply wait out here for you then, yes?" He hummed, turning on heel and making himself comfortable standing right outside the door. Some meandering demons seemed to have recognized him, bursting out into terrfied screams and booking it to who-knows-where. Alastor chuckled and it seemed he found it funny.

You rolled your eyes and got to your business. Your headphones had recently broken down, being damn near impossible to use. You didn't bother having a job down here, but since you moved into the hotel you would do small chores here and there for spending money. Stealing wasn't exactly...encouraged at redemption. So. You tried to be moral about it.

Headphones of choice in hand, you fished about in your pockets for your cash even when the other people in the store started storming out while screeching in fear. Even the cashier was gone when you had placed the money on the counter and pocketed your new headphones.

You paid the right amount and trotted on out.

Expecting only Alastor, you ended up halting in your tracks when you see another demon talking to him. A TV-faced individual who's outfit seemed a blue version of Alastor's own. Oh. Picture box. This was probably who Alastor was talking about- Vox...

TV-face was too close to him.

You felt a growl rise up in your throat.

Alastor was doing a good job appearing unphased, but even if he was it didn't matter to you. The other demon was practically nose to non-existing-nose to the deer man, arms on either side of him in a blockade of sorts.

The TV was talking in a low, threatening growl. Something about 'have the nerve to not join him-'

You ducked underneath TV-man's arm, putting yourself between them and shoving the man away.

The flat-face of the fucker flashed a moment as its owner was startled, then one of the man's eyes started spiraling in color. Your mind started to feel a bit...fuzzy.

Alastor had put his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back behind him. Your gaze was stuck on TV guys, transfixed by the spinning-

Wait.

The bastard was hypnotizing you?

You growled, baring your fangs as your tail bristled.

HOW FUCKING DARE HE

Alastor's sound of surprise was small, quiet, and almost inaudible as you pushed him back, stomping up to Vox and shoved one claw onto his screen.

"Hey, you flat-faced plasma-screened fuck-a-saurus, back off before I shove something in your ports that ain't a HDMI cable!"

A quiet 'what the fuck are they saying' behind you was completely ignored. Blue electricity sparked off of Vox as he grabbed your wrist, leering down at you with that hypnotizing eye.

You pulled back, not managing to get super far as the TV-guy's grip on your wrist tightened.

"You got some nerve, you stupid bitch." He laughed, looking back to Alastor "I can't help if your associate here is brave or incredibly stupid."

"A bit of both, in my opinion." Alastor hummed "I do recommend you return them to me. They're a resident at the hotel, you know."

"You're still involved in that dumb thing?"

"It's entertaining. Now, then-"

You stopped supporting your own weight abruptly. Vox, supposedly not expecting that, stumbled as the center of gravity shifted. You took the opportunity to twist his wrist to release your arm and slid underneath him. You scrambled up onto his back and snapped your jaw open wide, preparing to bite down-

-only for your teeth to meet nothing air.

You blinked, disoriented.

Alastor was suddenly holding you. He's done it before, sure. Carrying you around like a suitcase or by the back of your shirt. But here he was, holding you bridal style.

"Wonderful catching up to you, old pal." Alastor said, grinning widely. "Now if you excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."

Vox's screen was sparking, his eyes darting between Alastor's and your own. His hypnotism started up in his eye a moment. You flipped him off with both hands, glaring intently.

He started screeching something, but Alastor's cackle drowned it out as he shadowed the two of you away.

"You shouldn't bite scum like him, my dear." Alastor said, placing you on your feet. He tapped one claw lightly against your nose "You may catch something awful. On another note..." he crossed his arms behind his back, giving you a flat look "whatever were you thinking getting between two overlords like that? Did you think i couldn't handle myself?" His tone lowered at that last question, his gaze darkening as red and black switched places.

"Um. I wasn't thinking." You replied honestly. Shrugging down into yourself, you took a half-step back. "I...Well. Um. I just. Did. He was giving me some intense incel vibes and I got mad so." You finished lamely with a half-hearted shrug "yeah."

Alastor scanned you a moment in silence. You started fidgeting with your claws and wondered if he'd let you write out a last will before killing you.

"I see." he said. "Well then, were there any other errands you needed to run?"

"Um. Nope." You said, ducking your head. Alastor tsked, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger and forced you to look up at him.

"No need to avoid my gaze, my dear. Simply let me handle my own affairs from now on, yes?"

You blinked. "...I mean. No promises, but i'll attempt."

Alastor hummed "Yes, I supposed that's the most you can do."

~~~~~~

Later that day, Alastor asked Nifty what 'incel vibes' were. The little maid answer without a care in the world, going about her cleaning as usual without giving it another thought.

Alastor stood alone in that hallway, staring at nothing in particular. You got protective over him? It was laughable! He was the Radio Demon! You were...you.

Why was his heart beating so fast again?

==================

Maybe the whole biting thing isn't quite what Alastor is fixating on Reader about....

Bit more detail on the strip poker thing: The gang decides to do a strip poker night, but Reader doesn't know how to play poker. Angel comes up with the idea that any clothing taken off anyone else will be put on Reader instead.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

God the idea of Simon having a s/o that's like wayyy shorter than him something like 5'5 is doing things to me. This man is 6'4 something and he's HUGEEE AF, like i think it would be a turn on for him, having his babe so small underneath him. And i don't even need to get into how probably big he is down there too? The struggle to take him in everytime but the afterwards is a pure bliss. Ugh.

Like, i agree with what you said, this man is an epitome of masculinity. And the need and want to take care, love and protect his mate. <3 <3

Mmm. Mmmm.

Ok I'm just gonna leave this here.

Original photo: @ S0CIALHUNTER on Twitter

This is not a Drill

Word count: 2.2 k

Tags/warnings: SMUT 🔞, a dash of fluff, size kink (obviously), size difference, swearing, premature ejaculation, penetrative sex toy. F!Reader.

A/N: Gaahh. No poetry this time. Just pure filth. Enjoy 🍽

This might just be one of your better ideas.

You've done this in secret for two weeks now, hoping by the time he arrives, you'll be able to surprise him with how well you've trained yourself to receive him.

If you can take a large toy so well, day after day, it should help with taking him in more easily too. Right?

As in, take in the biggest dick you've ever had and, god willing, will ever have.

You're actually quite proud of yourself. Not only does this thing keep you juicy, but it also makes you thirst for him even more. The need to have something even bigger inside you, the knowledge that he can provide that bigger thing, makes your lips purse, makes your walls throb as you remind yourself that tomorrow, your man will finally come home.

…Except that the stealthy fucker has chosen to arrive a day early. You don't even hear him before he's at your bedroom door. Fuck his profession, fuck all that experience in sneaking around, even with all that mass…

He comes in just in time to see how the said dong comes out, slick with your wetness.

Oh shit–

"Well. What do we have here?"

He looks at the brutal object in your hand, then raises his eyes to you – flustered you, lying all naked and throbbing and flushed on the bed. He can barely hold back a smile, but it's his eyes that laugh with an amused gleam.

"Careful or you'll hurt yourself with that thing."

That's some cheese coming from someone who's even bigger than the crude thing in your hand…

"You said you'd come tomorrow," you mewl as your excuse. He cocks his head a little, raises an eyebrow.

"Disappointed?"

"No, of course not, but–"

"You want help with that?"

He gives a side eye to the toy still in your hand. You blink a few times, then reach to set it somewhere, anywhere – the bedside table has to do, but you're too clumsy, and the toy drops to the floor and rolls at his feet.

Jesus, could things get any more embarrassing?

He examines the sorry thing with a stare that says How pathetic. Because even if to you, it's gigantic, it's nothing compared to what he's got in those pants. And he knows it too.

"Now ain't this convenient. I can go straight in, right?"

"I– I'm not sure," you breathe with anticipation.

"Let's give it a try then."

He doesn't even wait for your admission, which would only be a blaring, blazing Yes please sir. He doesn't trouble himself with undressing, merely crawls to the bed and over you.

He pulls back only to get himself out of those jeans, and it always looks like he's drawing out a massive weapon. Even in his hands, which are fucking huge, the cock looks like an oversized beast. He's fully hard, too, probably started to gather blood there the minute he saw you on that bed, puny and shy and caught red-handed.

And he's as impatient as can be: finally, there's a chance he can drive that cock right in, that he doesn't have to warm you up for half an hour with mouth and fingers and hear you cry when it still takes a few tears and some swearing as he guides it inside.

But the toys are no help, it seems. The massive head of his cock disappears in you, alright… But that doesn't mean it feels safe or sound.

"Oh, no. No, no."

He halts, hovering over you with just the tip inside, pulsing wildly.

"No?"

Ugh, why did you have to pick the biggest colossus of a man to be your fuck buddy for the rest of your life?

"Just… slowly, ok?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

He swallows and gets back to it, more slowly this time, and the spread is delicious – but it's also blinding, and you always have to remind yourself to keep breathing.

You just need to relax; it can fit, it has been there dozens of times before…

"Fuck, you're– you're even tighter down here," he groans with a dry throat and a heavy accent that makes you instantly clench around him.

It appears that you have only managed to train your inner muscles with that ridiculous dildo.

So much for trying to coax yourself open with toys…

He feeds more of that thickness in, in, in, until his balls make contact; they press against your flesh while your pussy hugs him with a perfect O shape. You bite your lip and hold your breath, and you're not the only one gaping at the scene in mild shock and admiration.

"Look at that…"

He doesn't even bother to tone down the drunken arousal in his voice which always drops down a few notes when he's fucking you. But every now and then, it's tinged with concern. How the hell can you even take him fully in?

He glances your way with the smallest smile playing at the corner of his mouth, muscles taut with anticipation. The man simply can't wait to ruin you.

"You ready?"

No…??

You give him a frail little nod and some high-pitched, broken whimpers from your mouth.

"Uh-huh?"

He chuckles, then withdraws, slowly… But the next thrust is not that gentle, and your brows knit together in pleasure and pain. Well, it's not exactly pain, just… It's a little too much. If the angle was even slightly off, it would hurt. The wetness no doubt helps this business, but you still find your teeth sinking into your lower lip again – he starts to roll his hips, fuck you with experimental thrusts that, blessedly, don't plunge too deep.

You feel your inner walls both accommodate him and tighten around him; greedy, like it's no problem at all to have far too big a shaft stuffed down there. And not just crammed, but plowing: back and forth like you're a toy, too.

"What in the bloody hell have you been doing…"

He detects the tense muscles that pull him in every time he reaches the base. You're too small for him; that fact was established long ago. But added with the clenching and throbbing pulse of your cunt, a fervor that tries to suck him like he's a fat stick of candy cane makes his jaw gradually fall open. The man looks like he's going to pass out.

"Were you doing that shit for me?"

You smile and flutter your lashes innocently, all the while a giant is trying to work his giant cock in you.

"Yup. Welcome home, I guess?"

He looks at you, not with mirth, but with reproof. You're playing with fire, toying with a sharp blade, and teasing a man of his size might not be the best of your ideas.

But that's exactly what you are; a goddamn tease. You just can't help it. You know he gets an equal kick out of this setting: of you being so small. Anyone is small compared to him, but you're small compared to anyone. Next to him–not to talk under him–you look like a helpless doll.

And perhaps that's what this is all about: perhaps one of these days, you want him to wreck you.

Use you.

Even the very thought makes your cunt wrap around him again. Massive thighs at least twice the size of yours force your legs wide apart as he goes deeper – so deep that you can feel those balls again, hefty slaps against you as he tries to bury himself inside a place he's not meant to fit.

You always wonder what you look like under him, disappearing entirely under a dark shadow and hundreds of pounds of muscle. Spreading your thighs to offer too tight a slit to what's practically a monster. It must always be forced inside with sweat, patience, and needy grunts. How insane it must look for that thing to disappear inside you again and again until you're loaded with him… His cum never stays inside before you reach the shower, but the feel of it running down your thighs is absolutely glorious.

You notice he slows down the pace, which is odd. Normally, he's fucking you with abandon at this point.

"What's wrong?"

He huffs above you, chest swelling with shallow, alarmed breaths.

"Wrong? What's right, more like…"

He resumes with a thrust or two, looks down to where you are joined, and lets out an aggravated groan.

"I'm sorry, I can't…" He draws back as if to pull out completely, and you whine a complaint. A decision is made right away; he sinks back inside, fills you again and again, until…

"I think I'm gonna cum," he informs with apologetic alarm.

Oh.. Right.

… Already?

"It's ok… it's ok," you sweep your hands up his back, clutch him to make it known that he can collapse like a tower upon you, and you would only feel enthusiastic about getting buried under the rubble.

Use me.

Just fucking take me.

The look on his face is a rare glimpse behind the walls of a remorseless soldier: something primal but vulnerable, something fragile that only you are allowed to see.

"You can use me," you whisper, and it's like a spell that calls upon disaster.

"Ah, Christ…"

It takes only a split-second before he accepts your offer in full. You're planted in the mattress with starved thrusts, his thighs and chest spread you open until he's drilling you in an almost 90 degree angle. You're concerned for the bed's capacity to take this sort of plowing when you should perhaps worry more about your poor abused pussy.

It's such a heaven that your jaw falls open, too. You're dreamy and helpless under him while he's far from feeble. He looks like thunder above you, especially when you're looking at him like he's a demigod.

Like you're in love.

Which you are… And he knows it, even without that adoring bimbo stare you give him.

"Gonna–cum. Fuck, I'm gonna–"

You can almost see the sweat breaking, can feel the cock inside you jolting even when there's no room for it to do such a thing.

"Fuck–! "

It swells inside you as he cums with a painful groan. The orgasm seems to just last and last, and you realize with horror and thrill that the guy hasn't had a wank in days. Work has been a bitch, then, and you get to pay for it – a punishment you suffer with glee.

He gives you his all, squeezing you between arms that feel like a too tight cage, crushing you with a chest that feels like a compression machine burying you under an iron weight. Hard thighs press against yours until you're spread open for him to be buried in to the hilt.

And you know it gives him hell that he finished before you: it's on par with a failed mission, you suppose. Your mission, however, was a success. The body around and over you is coiled tight, but the tension gradually leaves. Obviously it makes him feel even more heavy.

He finally goes slack against you, just like you wished, and you almost squeal while getting imprisoned by a heap of heaving muscles. He's catching both breath and the remains of his pride as he lies there on top of you. The cock inside gives an occasional pulse, but you're forever hungry.

This man should be illegal…

You know you won't be left stranded for long, and seeing him so utterly done gives you enough satisfaction for now. You can wait for him to finish you in other ways.

"You're fucking dangerous," he huffs in your ear while trying not to crush you completely with his weight. He's gathering his strength in the solace of your neck, and you smile like you're on drugs.

"Does that mean you like me..?"

"What do you think," he snorts humorlessly on your skin, but you know he's more than happy. "'Welcome home'... Bloody hell, woman."

"I'm glad you're here," you laugh and place a hand on that broad back to caress him gently.

"Yeah. You can keep that toy."

"Perhaps I'll finish myself with it," you chirp to annoy him a bit more. Another triumph: you have to suppress a laugh upon hearing him groan.

"Now give me a bloody minute…"

Poor man. The thought that you feel just too fucking good to him, so good that it makes him lose control, gives you such a high that it's just sinful. The thought that a stoic goliath like him is rendered weak on top of a small, harmless woman is more intoxicating than a wine glass filled to the brim.

You pet the back of his neck and know he's probably tired from work and wants to sleep. You wouldn't object to falling asleep too while he's holding you.

"How about we give it another try after a nap?"

Your offer makes him rumble softly, contently; the man's ready to drop but also thoroughly enamored. Your heart skips a beat from pure happiness.

"Mm. You always have the best ideas."

[dreamskug]

[ SUBJECT INTERVIEW: ÍVARR ]

NICKNAME:

NOT "Gramps". Not for you, anyway. Just my name.

GENDER:

Male.

STAR SIGN:

Why, checking if we’d match? Hah. Was told I’m a Scorpio. 'That check out?

HEIGHT:

With platforms or without?

ORIENTATION:

If we vibe, nothing else matters. An incubus with neat taste in personalities, I guess.

NATIONALITY / ETHNICITY:

So, some Scandinavian blood in me - half, actually. Can speak the language, too - 'least something neat daddy gave me, not that the fucker's outdone himself in parenting. Mom’s an American, born in Badlands. Ever heard of her clan? Messed with witchcraft a lot, and summoning even more. Know what I’m getting at? A perfect fuckin' match, weren't they?

FAVE FRUIT:

- Yeah no. Don't even start with anything citrus. Especially don't peel this shit in front of me, alright? Nasty shit. [Interviewer]: - Just wondering, how do you feel about cardboard boxes? [Ívarr] : - Ain't purring for you, man. But nice one.

FAVE SEASON:

Fuck summer. You ever felt what's that like - the real winter nights? Pitch fuckin' dark - quiet so thick you hear the snow falling. First time I saw those snowflakes as a kid - can swear I thought they were bees.

FAVE FLOWER:

Cherry blossoms? The fuck I know, man. Ask my mainline, I grab whatever he likes.

FAVE SCENT:

Expecting me to be like - "Muahaha, the smell of fear"? Seriously, it's apparently a pheromone released in your sweat or some shit. C'mon I'm joking, it isn't my fav - keeps stinking up this damn city. Alright, a freshly baked cake is something I'd kill for.

COFFEE, TEA, HOT CHOCOLATE:

Yeah coffee I guess? Rich, strong, black, with a splash of something fun, make it whiskey.

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

Woke up just yesterday 'cause my mainline was pulling back my eyelid, imagine? Scared the fuck out of him, no seriously, can sleep through a fuckin' bomb and I'm not joking. Average hours - a shitton honestly? That's how I got my very first cat - Dad got enough of me breaking down every single morning, cause fuck mornings. And he'd be like - this is Snowy, she's gonna live with us and she already had her breakfast, so get the fuck up. How'd I argue with Snowy? You don't mess with Snowy.

DOG OR CAT PERSON:

See? Check it out - cat fur. Here too. I'm claimed, man - gave up cleaning it up a long time ago. Not to be dramatic, but if there's anything human in me left - it's for them. Fur kids, all mine, what can I say. Two of them adopted - and you bet each of them has a bigger personality than an average gonk.

DREAM TRIP:

Dream trip, jeez... Somewhere not fucking hot?

FAVE FICTIONAL CHARACTER:

Balrog has style, y'know? Gotta be honest, I feel for the dude. Imagine yourself sleeping deep within the mountains for thousands of years to get awoken by a bunch of motherfuckers? I'd go nuclear too. And this one too, ehh you know GoT? The Targaryen, her, yeah. Burn them all, girl. Boss move.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH:

Man, your questions. I dunno, a half? With my ass covered, or not at all. Bed king sized, lights out, make it pitch black with the window open and you got me passed out.

RANDOM FACT:

One doesn't have to actually summon a demon to get them to come play, d'you know? There's one watching you through my eyes right fuckin' now. Should I introduce him?

Late to the party, but I remember many of y'all have more than one OC or just created new pixel babies that haven't participated yet, so I'm tagging (with no pressure):

@therealnightcity @wraithsoutlaws @sammysilverdyne @theviridianbunny @th3irin

@a-pirate @chessalein @halkuonn @luvwich @shimmer-like-agirl

@kdval @cybersteal @cyberholic77 @chevvy-yates @morganlefaye79

@anxious--ace @mhbcaps @wormskul @silver-samurai @androgymess

@winkyblinkyandstew @astarionhistears @valsilverhand @drunkchasind @themermaidriot

@pinkyjulien @skelior @medtech-mara @lokiina @timaeusterrored

@tokyofuturnoir @aggravateddurian @sifofasgard @elfjpeg @aurorartz

@lucky38-2077 @dustymagpie @gloryride @stannussy and anyone else who wants to! Also pls DM me if you don't wanna get tagged🖤

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Eddie Munson's family dinner

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 23

Prompt: Uncle Wayne adopts Steve

Rated: M

CW: nudity

Tags: Modern AU; Rockstar Eddie; Royal Steve; Established relationship

Notes: Continued from days 11 and 14. I can't get this AU outta my head, halp!

Eddie can't recall the first time he saw Steve. 

In all likelihood, he was two years old and Steve a tiny, wrinkly baby. His face was all over the news in the days and weeks following his birth, after all. Cradled in his mother's arms, staring bleary-eyed into the world as newborns tend to do - only that in his case, the entire world was staring back. The birth of the King's and Queen's first child had been long-awaited after all, a once-in-a-generation event. 

In the years that followed, Steve was always just … kind of there. A strange-but-familiar boy who kept popping up on TV and the front pages of magazines, living a life so different they may as well have been from different planets. 

Eddie still remembers fixing dinner in the trailer's tiny kitchen one night, news droning in the background. 

"Poor kid," Wayne grumbled. 

Eddie, sixteen and a giant shithead at the time, paused in putting the plates down on the table and glanced up to follow his uncle's gaze to the TV. 

"Oh yeah, woe is him. Must be so fucking hard, living in a palace. Having an army of servants to wipe your ass and shit." 

On the TV, the Prince sat between his parents at some sports event or other, a tiny carbon copy of his father with his Italian suit and carefully styled hair. Clapping at all the right times, face a polite, empty mask of a smile.

Wayne huffed. "Ain't no kid deserve that kinda shit. Always under scrutiny, paraded around like some trained dog." 

Eddie rolled his eyes and changed the topic and they didn't talk about it any further. 

*

Wayne's plates are still the same ones that Eddie was putting on the table all those years ago. Eddie has offered time and again to buy something new, but the stubborn old shit won't have it. Insists that Eddie already bought him a whole-ass house with the money from that first record deal, a car after the second, he won't die of a chipped plate or ten, thank you very much. He'll just have to get him new ones for Christmas, he guesses.

"This is delicious, Mr Munson," Steve is saying. He's sitting next to Eddie, back ramrod straight, elbows at a perfect angle, dissecting the meatloaf with careful precision. 

Like some trained dog. 

"My mom's recipe," Wayne hums, but then he sets down his own cutlery, expression serious. "Now … what are your intentions with my nephew?" 

Eddie flushes about twenty shades of crimson. Incidentally, so does Steve. 

"I …" he sputters, all traces of composure suddenly gone. "Well, I like Eddie a lot." 

"I figured …" Behind Wayne's beard, his mouth twitches. "Seeing how you're wearing his clothes and all." 

Steve blinks down at himself. They make sure to keep it low-profile when they're together. The paparazzi never sleep, after all, and they've both had their fair share of run-ins with the fuckers in the past. Which is why he's wearing a red-and-black flannel he stole from Eddie, faded and soft from too many cycles in the wash. Eddie wants to burn all the Italian suits in the world, wrap him up in soft and comfy clothes always. 

"Um …" Steve says. 

Wayne smiles. 

"Relax, son, I'm pulling your leg." If he notices how Steve tenses at the word son, he graciously ignores it. "Now are ya gonna take my boy's hand, or what?" 

Steve gapes. 

"Might as well," Eddie winks, takes the knife from Steve’s limp fingers and entwines their hands. "He'll just keep nagging until he gets what he wants." 

Their gazes lock and Steve smiles. Not a mask. The real one. The one where his eyes light up and he looks five years younger. The one that Eddie is rapidly becoming addicted to. 

He turns back to eating his dinner one-handed and remembers another boy, a boy from a very different planet, getting coaxed out of his shell over the same plates, the same meatloaf. 

Fuck the plates, he decides. Wayne is getting a whole damn kitchen for Christmas, whether he likes it or not. 

*

"He's a great guy, your uncle," Steve mutters into Eddie’s chest later that night. They're all curled up in Eddie’s bed and he's naked except for the flannel. He claims it's to ward off the cold air seeping in through the open window, and Eddie isn't about to argue. Not when the sight does things to him. 

"Sort of thought he was gonna hate me," Steve continues, and Eddie hums quizzically. 

"Why's that?" 

"Hm, let's see …" Steve's brow crinkles in mock-thought. "He raised the guy who wrote two top-ten songs about how much the monarchy sucks, that could've been a hint." 

"Nah," Eddie chuckles. "Guy would've adopted you as a kid, if he could've. He's always loved you, way-" 

Large hazel eyes blink up at him and the words get stuck in his throat. 

Because he hasn't said it yet, even though he's rapidly coming to accept that it's true. 

Way before I did.

"And apart from that," he says instead, "if you marry me, I'll be a princess. What parent doesn't want that for their kid?" 

"Hold your horses," Steve grumbles, but his eyes are sparkling again. "We can't get married if your uncle adopts me." 

"Shame," Eddie quips and presses him down into the pillows. "Would've loved to wear a tiara on stage, that sounds like a killer look."

Eddie doesn’t recall the first time he saw Steve, but he doesn’t really think it matters. Not when he gets to see the real him now, with no-one else watching. Blushing and naked, lips kissed pink, glowing with happiness.

It's an image he's sure he won't forget.

Part 4

All my holiday drabbles

[buckybarnesandmarvel]

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

pairings: slightly dark!bucky x reader

warnings: angst, (fluff?), cursing, bucky calls reader a 'whore' like once

summary: based on the song 'boyfriend' by ariana grande

a/n: writer's block still going strong. ughhhh. please show this some love x

you ain't my boyfriend and I ain't your girlfriend but you don't want me to see nobody else and I don't want you to see nobody

**********************************************************************

Bucky watched you with cold eyes as you laughed with the stranger at the bar. His jaw clenched as he saw the man trace a hand up your arm, how you leaned towards him as he talked.

Disregarding the blonde who was practically grinding on him at this point, he glared at you as you made your way to the dance floor, the nameless man trailing behind like a lost puppy.

He kept on watching you as you pressed back into the man, your hips swaying seductively. You turned around, facing the man with a smile as you leant in to kiss him. Seeing you press your lips to him made Bucky snap.

Those lips should be just for him

That dancing should just be for him.

That smile. That laugh. Only for him.

He didn't know where all of this was coming from, but seeing you with another man, something unpleasant rose up inside him. He pushed away the girl whose name he had forgotten and ignored her as she gave a disgruntled huff and stalked towards you.

You hadn't yet realised, still dancing with the fucker who was getting too comfortable for Bucky's liking. He walked towards you in a few strides, his eyes filled with hatred and jealousy. You hadn't realised, until you felt a firm grip on your upper arm as you got pulled away from the dance floor. Your protests were cut short as you were dragged out of the room.

"Bucky! What-"

"Cut the bullshit."

Rough hands shoved you slightly into the wall, your back colliding with it painfully.

"What the fuck!"

"Shut. Your. Mouth."

You immediately close your mouth and go silent as you look up at bucky with wide eyes.

"I don't want you near him again. Or any other guys for that matter. Do you understand?"

"You were with that-that girl!"

He smirks as his eyes darken.

"So you were acting like a whore because you were jealous?"

"Wha- no!"

His smile drops as he suddenly becomes serious again.

"I said. Do. You. Understand?"

"What! Why!" You protested as you furrowed your brows.

"Because I said so." He said simply.

You sigh and lean back as you try to put some distance between the both of you.

"You're not my boyfriend!"

He smiles darkly as he brings his face closer to yours.

"I may not be your boyfriend but I don't think they would like to know that I've seen you. Seen all of you. That I've seen you cry, seen you laugh, seen you scream. I don't think they'd like to know about our little nights, hm, when you come to me, begging for more, would they? Hm?"

You look up at him horrified as you try to shove him away, but to no avail. He shoves you back, your back colliding with the wall again.

"W-why?"

He presses his lips to yours, kissing you roughly, his vibranium hand snaking his arm around your neck and pulling you impossibly closer. He nips your bottom lip and then brings his mouth to your ear, whispering.

"Because you're mine, doll. And don't you forget it."

**********************************************************************

tagging: @xioriae @chrisevansdaughter @newgirlintheneighborhood @boredum7865 @hulkstacos @dhoruwolfie @scorpiolystoned @hallecarey1 @bubblessunshinehoney @youralphawolf72 @littlebluestone @friskyfisher @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @nana1000night let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

**********************************************************************

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Winds of Change

Prologue =-= Next

Author's note: Zeth's debut in Husbandry.

Warnings: None. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Zeth wanders Earth. Finds a Zoo and is stopped from eating at tasty creature in the Zoo.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Hunting for food on this planet was easy, the rivers and seas are full of all sorts of fun critters to eat. Same with the forests and deserts. All having something to consume, the base line humans are almost impressive in how bold they can be, coming up to a might Black Legionary and trying to shoo him away from scooping out some spikey sea creatures from a human-made pond.

He didn't understand the locals language verbal and written. He'd stumbled across this 'Zoo' whatever the fuck that was. And learned it contained people, lots, and lots, of base line humans, he's occasionally seen some fellow Marines, Chaos, Loyalist, and Renegade a lot. The human in uniform was definingly shouting at him as he been half way to grabbing the spiky sea creature that from the last time he'd tried it, it had been tasty.

He tilts his helmet down at the bold little human, still slowly trying to grab the spiky darkly colored sea creature when a voice rang out in High Gothic, "Do not pick up the sea creature. Step away from the human made ecosystem and come here."

"Why the fuck should I listen to you?" Zeth growls as he turns to face the person speaking High Gothic. Oh excellent an Ultramarine! They are so much fun to pester, they are such haughty, high handed bastards, but if you got them mad enough, they are fun in a scrap.

"Because this is a Zoo!" The Ultramarine says.

"Quick question," Zeth says, "What the Fuck is a Zoo?"

The Ultramarine stares at him and under his breath growls about Idiot Barbarian Cousins. Zeth scowled at him again, rude fucker ain't he? He snarled that at the Ultramarine who glared at him and explained in that annoyingly condescending way that Ultramarines get when they are in 'you fucking idiot Barbarian, how do you not know about something so civilized way. Which has him growling at the Loyalist Fucker some more.

"So… why can't I eat the spiny creature?" Zeth asks after listening to the Ultramarines frankly boring as fuck lecture on what a Zoo is and what it does.

"Because. The humans are keeping the spiny creatures here to study, and make more of them." The Ultramarine said through gritted teeth. "Where is the rest of your War band?"

"Fuck if I know. I woke up on this random as fuck planet and started seeing what fun was to be had." Zeth replies with a shrug, "Then found this… 'Zoo' thing and wandered about."

"Please tell me you haven't tried to eat anything else that is in an enclosure." The Ultramarine asked, well demanded.

The haughty, high handed fucker, while trying to pretend he's not pissed off, he can see one of the veins throbbing on the side of his neck that has Zeth grinning at the fucker in dark delight. "And why would I tell you if I have or haven't done that, Loyalist?"

The Ultramarine glares at him while sending a text-vox to someone, likely unimportant, "because if you have the humans will be upset."

"So?" Zeth asks, "I'm a Chaos Marine, I prefer it when the squisky base lines are upset."

"Because one way or another, if you have eaten anything you shouldn't, recompense will be taken from you." The Ultramarine replies.

"And why *the fuck would I allow that?" Zeth asks, tilting his head a little. He'd forgotten how fun it was to rile up Loyalists. Although, the uppity fucker has yet to try and attack him. He wonders why, and asks him that question. The Ultramarien visibly twitches, "I want to, but for … reasons that I'm not going in with you right now. I can't explain."

"ooh, how mysterious!" Zeth taunts, "You are a coward."

"That's enough of that," A Chaos-warped voice warbles out sternly.

Zeth turns to look at the- gaint fucker- of a Chaos Death Guard, in Apothecary armor patterning coming over and giving a firm look towards Zeth who huffs at him. "Why should I listen to you?!"

"Because, I am an Apothecary, a fellow Chaos Marine," Hura says plesantly, "And if you don't I will make things very unpleasant until you see the errors of your ways and properly apologize and make ammends."

Zeth huffs and puffs- and… actually. That sounded more than a little terrifying, as the Death Guard slowly stalked forwards towards him, having continued to move towards him the whole time. Nurglite- Chaos Marines could be patient horrifyingly so. They could also be very…. creative and awful in what the decide is 'adequate' for punishment and 'making amends' to the satisfaction of one could be… debt inducing in ways that are just not worth it. So as much as it chafes at his pride be backs off, which has Hura the Death Guard Apothecary give him a hum of approval. The Ultramarine has a conflicted look in his eyes.

"Hura, I am grateful that you were able to arrive so quickly and help deal with him." The Ultramarine says carefully to the Death Guard.

"I am always glad to help my brothers and cousins in need," Hura replies with a gracious nod. "Come littel Cousin, I am called Hura, what is your name?"

"I go by Zeth," He replies eyeing the Death Guard.

"Follow me and we will get you sorted out," Hura requests of him.

Zeth grumbles at him follows after the Death Guard with deliberately loud steps as he's told of The Rules, and what the consequences are for Fucking Around, you get to Find Out, and Find Out can be extremely unpleasant. Zeth tells the truth that he hadn't actually eaten any of the animals in the Zoo yet, as he hadn't been hungry enough, until he'd seen the spikey ocean critter. Hura informs the Ultramarine, who seems to be skeptical of the answer, but if he did lie, the humans would make a note of the missing animal if that was the case.

[xxcottoncandybitchxx]

Party with the big bitch!

You didn't remember what you were doing before found yourself inside a large building with honeycomb patterning lining the walls. A fox-like anthropomorphic woman lays on the disco ball above you. She has yellow fur with a white front torso stretching down from her snout, pink eyes, bee wings, and strangest of all, part of her hair and the whole of her tail appeared to be made entirely out of a lava lamp fluid-like substance.

"Heya, you dirty bitches! Queen Bee here! That's right, fuckers, the head bitch in charge. Who's ready to party with the queen bee of gluttony?!" The crowd of anthropomorphic dogs and wolves, as well as some smaller red demons, cheer loudly, seeming to goad the woman on.

"Have fun, get totally fucked and fucked up, and not necessarily in that order! It's a party, and consequences ain't a thing here! Have fun, new hounds!" She flies around for a moment before finally landing in front of... you!

Do you talk with the queen bee?

(( Feel free to ignore, interact if not tagged, or ask for your tag to be removed! ))

@kamon-of-hope @ultimate-rider @unknown-ultimates @i-spy-with-my-lethal-eye @would-you-like-a-scooby-snack @ask-the-ultimate-cosplayer

[mysticstarlightduck]

Incorrect Quotes Tag #2

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet (here)! I'll go with the cast of Supernova Initiative for this one!

Generator Here

SUPERNOVA INITIATIVE

Jack (looking in the mirror): Everything will be ok. You can not stop it. Jack: Everything will be fine. You have no choice. Cassie: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that? Jack: Ominous positivity.

(*after crash landing in that frozen moon*) Kye: Shut it Artemis, I only shook your hand because I had to. We will NEVER be friends. Artemis: Lets survive this together! Kye: I HOPE YOU DIE. (helps him anyways)

Lyorna: Now, Jack, all of us are doing this because we care about you, okay? Jasper: Except for me. I just wanted to see the look on your face.

Aleks: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter A. Noctus: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory. Aleks: ... Fuck you.

Cassie: Can I go to the pool? Deimos: Sure, we’ll go as soon as I’m free. Cassie: No, can I go by myself? Deimos: You don’t want to go with me? Cassie: I would if you didn't just go around challenging random people to cannonball contests! Deimos: (defensive) It’s the only way to establish dominance!

Kye: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. Also Kye: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Cassie: HELP! I TOLD MY BROTHER I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK! Meridian, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?!

Pax: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Ethean (seriously concerned with his little brother): Kid, you’re too young to have enemies. Pax: Oh you sweet summer child, you don’t even know.

Elysia: When I said bring me something back from the beach I meant like a conch shell! Gabi: *Struggling to hold a seagull* Well, fucking say that next time!

Lyorna: In your opinion, what is the height of stupidity? Noctus, turning to Aleks: How tall are you?

The Director: What is wrong with you? Jack: Many, many things... Jack: And most of them are your fucking fault.

Kye: Wait- Your arresting me because I'm a homo?! A random Khosmonian Officer: ... Attemped Homicide. You tried to kill your own mother. Kye: THAT FUCKER AIN'T MY MOTHER - SHE WAS BARELY A DNA DONOR - (gets dragged away screaming)

Jack: I’m telling you, my team is competent. Deimos, rushing in: Jack! Meridian tried to make pasta in the coffee pot and now it's broken! Jack: I withdraw my statement.

Lyorna: Where are your parents? Elysia: What are parents? Lyorna: Well...That’s just about the saddest thing I've ever heard.

Pax: Ow! Ethean: What’s wrong? Pax: I have this weird pain right above my eyebrow. Ethean: Oh. It’s called a stress headache. I got my first one when I was four.

Vesper: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Tarah: How has life been treating you lately? Eos: Horribly.

Tagging (gently): @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin,

@oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab, @winterandwords, @eccaiia,

@the-letterbox-archives, @illarian-rambling @agirlandherquill, @anoelleart,

@ray-writes-n-shit @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @topazadine

@forthesanityofstorytellers, @finickyfelix

@cauliflowermaterial @thepeculiarbird,

@clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, and OPEN TAG

Taglist for Supernova Initiative below the cut! 🌠

Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3,

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri,

@lyutenw @finickyfelix

@elshells, @thecomfywriter

[inafieldofdaisies]

15 Lines of Dialogue Tag | Tagged by @la-grosse-patate @g0dspeeed @direwombat @aceghosts @sofrosine @nightbloodbix @kyber-infinitygems @corvosattano @voidika @thesingularityseries

Deputy Sabrina Donovan | WIPs: In Hope of Tomorrow / A Trial of Errors (AU; Lines 9-15)

1. "Who the fuck ties a person to a chair on wheels. Did they rob an office?"

2. Sabrina narrowed her eyes, the corners of her mouth twitching, "Did someone try to drown you, Seed?"

3. "Yep. I'm still here, didn't teleport through the steel walls, ain't going anywhere, so you can fuck right off." She waited for his footsteps to recede, but they never did, "Like seriously, you're now gonna watch me while I sleep? Fucking creepy."

4. "It was either the radio or I start singing off-key, and I doubt you'd like that."

5. "I will have you know I've been throwing knives since I was 15,", she nodded towards the knife block at the counter, "keep talking and you would find out my actual aim."

6. "Your face is kind of hard to forget." "Was that a compliment, Deputy?" Sabrina rolled her eyes, "You wish."

7. "Are you taking us there?", she repeated, her voice taking an edge, "You have to know, I won't let you take HER."

8. "Didn't strike me as a lace type of girl, Deputy. Are you taking that one, too?", he cocked his head, eyes darkening as he examined the piece. "Oh, you know, I have to win the Miss Universe competition somehow."

9. Her hazel eyes shone as she let out a laugh, "If I had to bet, I'd say you'd be the one getting cold, Mr. Duncan, stolen clothes and all that. I feel like I can skip on asking to see what you're wearing." "Ouch.", he rubbed at his chest at the jab, "That one hurt." "Too soon?"

10. "And you're alone?" "No. A whole harem of guys is keeping me company, actually. They're currently fighting who will be sleeping on my tiny bed, and who's taking the ground, pillowless. A true form of punishment, I tell you."

11. "I'm dealing with a… situation." Her expression was unreadable, "I can see that." "Roughly estimated, how much did my chances sunk with?", [John] asked, flipping back to the view of his face. "Who says they did?"

12. "There's a bat.", he whispered like the creature would hear him and put an end to his game of hiding. "A rat?", she echoed incorrectly. "Sure, Detective,", he hated how his voice shook even as he spoke quietly, "but the type with fucking wings."

13. "Soo..", she began slowly, "why are you without pants? Don't tell me they got stolen while you slept… was it the bat? Should I call Stockton? Though, I think crimes committed by animals are out of his jurisdiction, you can probably vouch for that."

14. "What were you doing up so late?" "A girl has to have some secrets, John."

15. "You could always march over there and threaten to sue them for harassment… Your poor ears would thank you." "Don't tempt me. Because we might end up with a different situation on our hands." She raised an eyebrow, "Them asking you to join?", all he could do was blink as she laughed quietly, "Kidding. Oliver isn't rubbing off on me, I promise."

Deputy Calahan Hartley | WIP: In Hope of Tomorrow

1."I WILL GIVE YOU PURGE, YOU FUCKERS! What timing to be out of dynamite."

2. ["You ready to work?"] "As ready as I can be after crash-landing, almost drowning and getting shot at. Just another Monday, really."

3. "I'm not a leader, chief, hell, it's a miracle I'm still a Deputy. Fuck. Am I even one anymore?"

4. "Zorro will be on his best behavior, I promise. You won't even notice he's around. Plus… he gives mean foot rubs." "Rookie.", disbelief seeped into [Mary May's] tone. "Fine. The foot rubs were a lie. Though, I can take up on that task." "You ain't coming anywhere near my feet, Rookie."

5. "I couldn't leave him behind, gorgeous. He's my son." A huff escaped her, probably at the pout he followed his words with, "He's a raccoon."

6. "One day, you're gonna realize what you're missing, gorgeous. And I won't be looking for payback for these insults. Too much."

7. "Your plan.", Leslie corrected him, "That you devised after getting drunk yesterday." "Most of my plans are conconted that way, chief."

8. "Oh, Leslie, bold and brave, agree to march over to Johnny's GATEEEE…", Hartley sang over the usual lyrics, meeting Zorro's dark gaze, "He looks like John, right, my boy? Even the universe agrees, Parish."

9. "Good old Joseph, oh, how he'd lose his mind if he learns 'God' has been showing visions of his brother fornicating to someone else, he'd probably die from the shock before I have the chance to kill him."

10. "I'm having the worst time of my life here. Humor is what keeps me going, besides Mary May's hidden stash… and well, my anger."

11. "You have the hots for [John], and me… I want to turn him into a human creme bruleee. Two types of people, Gray."

12. "[John]'s been calling me daily, I'm leaving him some friendly notes in return. The start of a beautiful friendship."

13. "Hope you don't mind sitting in the back. Zorro loves riding shotgun."

14. "Go meet your God, tell Him I will send Joseph soon, too."

15. "You're in a bar in Montana.", Mary May rolled her eyes and set a new empty glass in front of [Sébastien], "Closest you'd get to me making you tea, even at lunch is serving you lukewarm water with some of my spit in it. Organic. So count yourself lucky." Calahan leaned in, whispering loudly, "Also known as blatant disrespect. Which I would advise against. Though, I'd take her spitting in my drink anyday."

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @strangefable @strafethesesinners @purplehairsecretlair @finding-comfort-in-rain @dumbassdep @josephslittledeputy @marivenah @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @simonxriley @wrathfulrook @shellibisshe @gearvmac @amalkavian @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @simplegenius042 @onehornedbeast @theelderhazelnut @katsigian and anyone that would like to do the tag <3

[yourlocalbigtittyedbitch]

Danger

A human Quaritch x Gender neutral reader

Hc's of this fucker starting to fall for you

Warnings: a whole lot of flirting, the old man getting jelly,

synopsis: you're this flirty person who has a bit of a big ego. you're this merciless fucker too, and have a habit of showing off the goods.

------

When this fucker saw you walkin' in with you swaying your hips just right, and with that buttoned shirt half way undone, he knew you'd be troublesome.

When you introduced yourself to him, he gave you a quick glance up and down your body, he had to hand it to you, you where attractive. So he decided to play along with your little game.

As you two got to know each other. You always grew bolder with each action. Starting with a hand touching his back softly, before dragging it across his side before pulling away.

"Y'know.. you're quite attractive for an old man" he scoffed. You where leaning against a table with your arms crossed, as he had you caged against it "old? Well, this old man still has some moves." He joked as he grabbed your chin with a hand and smirked down at you.

One time you hooked your arms around his waist before murmuring something in his ear, before slipping the folder you had between his belt and pants. Then just pulled away and walked away, acting like nothing even happened, leaving him flabbergasted with a hue of pink dusting his cheeks

If he saw someone flirting with you, and if you where uninterested. You'd flip them off, but if they touched you? You'd pull out your taser and shock them before walking away. How in the ever living fuck did you get a taser?? (Remind him not to piss you off)

He definitely would get soo fuckin' jealous if you and a freind of yours where jokingly flirting with each other. (Why am I thinking about Lyle gettins his ass beaten when I'm typing this-)

If you have a avatar, you'd totally mess with this man and say shit you know you'd definitely regret

"your so small Colonel,"

"Watch what your tongue, before you regret it (Y/n).." he shot you a glare,

"Maybe I will when you get on my level. Shortie," you had this shit eating grin plastered on your face, little did you know. When you get back into your human body he'll be waiting for you,

"Is that spot taken?" You boldly asked

"No, it isn't-" before you let the man finish, you walked closer to him, sitting down onto his lap. Your shoulder leaning into his bicep, he took this opportunity to hook an arm around your waist, as a smirk crossed his lips.

"A little bold there ain't you, cupcake?" His voice sent chills down your spine, a faint pink blush dusting his cheeks

How did you meet? Well, it all started when...

"Oh my God! I'm so gonna fucking beat you Lyle!" You yelled at your best friend, Lyle. He had grabbed the folder you where holding, and held it above his head "why don't you make me then (y/n)? " you tried to jump up and grab the folder from him, but he moved it to his other hand. Pulling away, you glared at him "I will kick you in the dick again! I won't hesitate you dick-wad!" You threatened him, as his eyes darted to something else, and that smirk of his dropped "why don't you give it back to the little lady?" A gruff voice spoke from behind. You where wearing a pencil skirt and a buttoned shirt, so you weren't surprised that he called you a lady. Turning to face him, your eyes met his. "And who are you?" You quirked an eyebrow up at him "Colonel, Colonel Quaritch." Thats when you realized thats who you where supposed to give the folder to, so when Lyle was distracted, you snagged it away from his grasp. Shooting him a glare. While he playfully scoffed at you, you then handed Quaritch the folder

"I was told to give this to you. So here you go!"

Tag list:

@manymaria111

[spot-the-antisemitism]

https://www.tumblr.com/star-filled-arcade/757095109819056128/alright-so-to-the-zionists-who-already-found-this?source=share

hi hello fucker posted this on the leftist antisemitism tag??? they knew what they were doing

Yes they were it's all virtue signalling in the end

Hi yes I ain't reading all that bullshit white tears "but I tried so hard to white knight for you why can't sit still while I shoot you"

you'll need to screenshot it to archive this but like the pro-pal doth protest too much

they really admitted they DO blame Jews for everything and they only hate the good Jews

No bitch that's YOU whose twisted moral standing isn't helping anyone. the projection is so good you could supply a drive in movie theater

No bitch, that's YOU who use antisemitism as a justification

they tagged their own bigotry so we could see it

either support Jews or don't

we don't fucking need this backstabbing white knighting victim blaming nice goy TM bullshit

[jungle-angel]

I'll Kiss Your Hurt Away: Part 2 (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Rhett calls it quits in the bull riding ring after a nasty ride, but you're more than willing to help him get back on his feet in any way you can.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @callmemana @attapullman @cowboybarbie @withahappyrefrain @kmc1989 @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia

Warnings: Parenthood, injuries, doctor's visits, mentions of jerking off in a cup in said doctor's office etc.

"Fuck me," Rhett groaned.

"Wish I could but what if Pete walks in?" you asked cheekily.

Rhett winced again. Sitting up straight was still hard on his sore body, but thankfully his leg didn't need the brace anymore.

The door creaked open and in entered Pete, one of only a handful of doctors still left in Wabang. "Got the test results," he announced.

"What's the word, Doc?" Rhett asked him.

"Well for one thing, I can't believe what I saw," Pete said trying not to laugh. "Your sperm must be invincible."

Rhett laughed a little as you rolled your eyes.

"In all my years as a doctor, I have never seen such a spectacular display of virility," Pete remarked. "Lets get a good look at the rest of you though and make sure you're still in one piece."

"I don't feel anything stickin out so that's a plus," Rhett chuckled, rolling his shirt up past his nips.

"Yeah but just to be sure," Pete mumbled.

He listened to Rhett's heart and felt up his ribs, Rhett wincing at the tenderness of the bruises as Pete felt up the rest of him.

"Everything's still in place which is good," Pete concluded. "Surprising given how hard that fucker must've kicked."

"I'll be ok though right?" Rhett asked.

"You'll be perfectly fine," Pete answered. "But next time you might not be so lucky. If I were you I'd call it quits."

"Already did Pete," Rhett told him. "I ain't goin back if I can help it."

"Damn proud of you for that one," Pete chuckled. "Alright, you're good to go."

"No scripts?"

"None whatsoever," Pete told him. "Just get plenty of sleep, fluids, eat well and if anything changes, you know my number."

"And don't call beggin for Viagra," Rhett joked.

"Out! Out of my office!" Pete ordered, unable to contain his laughter any longer.

You and Rhett left the office but on the ride home, you remained on the quieter side with only the quiet playing of the radio going in the truck.

"Did you really mean it?" you asked him, a lazy smile breaking out on your face.

"Did I mean what?" Rhett asked you.

"When you said you were gonna quit the bull riding circuit?"

Rhett chuckled a little. "Darlin I mean it, I ain't goin back in that ring," he said. "Not for all the money in the world."

"Not even if it'll help build our dream home?"

"Nope," Rhett said, shaking his head. "Layin in that ER, I kept thinkin of what would happen to you and Amy if something happened to me. You and that baby need me as much as I need ya'll. I ain't leavin this world without either of you."

You squeezed his hand as you drove along that lonely stretch of road that led from town back to the Abbott ranch where Cecelia, Amy and Royal were all waiting for you.

"Feelin alright there Grumpy?" Cecelia asked.

"Never better Ma," Rhett answered. "Still sore as hell though."

"Ya'll want some lunch?" she asked again.

"Think I'm gonna go lay down," Rhett told her.

You led him upstairs and helped him lay down, covering Rhett with the wooly green throw blanket. "Oh," you said suddenly. "I went to grab the mail while you were asleep and it appears there's something here for you."

You handed Rhett the envelope which he tore right open, reading the contents and going wide eyed at the response.

"What's it say?" you asked.

"Says, Dear Mr. Abbott," he began. "We're pleased to inform you that you've been accepted to our learning center at the Amelia County Steiner School and will soon fill the position of full-time woodworking teacher for our students."

You caught the shriek in your throat before it had a chance to travel down the hall and catch Cecelia's attention. You leaned in and kissed your husband. I'm proud of you cowboy."

Rhett laughed as you kissed him again. You couldn't wait for this new beginning and all the new beginnings afterwards.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

tagged by: @kyber-infinitygems @cassietrn @direwombat @nightbloodbix @unholymilf @adelaidedrubman @g0dspeeed @aceghosts and @thesingularityseries for another fine week of wips. Thank you all!

tagging: @ocdemon-747 @wrathfulrook @amalkavian @fourlittleseedlings @harmonyowl @mccarthycormac @mxanigel @madparadoxum @carlosoliveiraa @confidentandgood @trench-rot @roofgeese @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @clicheantagonist @strafethesesinners @statichvm @peppertheferalraccoon @josephslittledeputy @marivenah @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @v0idbuggy @florbelles @poetikat @cassieuncaged @shallow-gravy @strangefable @stacispratt (no pressure of course)

writing tag list here to be added/removed

I haven't had much to share this week while I'm starting to work on the next chapter of AATW. This is still a rough first draft, and very likely to change, but have some of a flashback to Rory about to start an interrogation while under the leadership of CIA Officer Walker (I hate him entirely, he is a bastard) *cw: misogyny and references to torture*:

The soldiers remained in silence as they sat outside the room where Walker interrogated the target. Muffled sounds of groans coming from the other room drifted in to invade the hush that had fallen over the siege forces. Sat on a table, on the other side of the room across from the door, Rory had already stripped the tac vest from her shoulders in order to catch her breath. The sight of all those faces in the dock facility below caused her stomach to twist and ache. Her head hanging low, chin pressed to her chest, she rubbed at the back of her neck trying to relieve the tension that built there. 

Andrew looked over at her, watching her hands start to tremble and he slipped the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Pulling one out for her, he lit it and nudged her with his elbow to get her attention. “Hey, take this.”

She looked over at the trail of smoke that began to lift from the tip and happily accepted, bringing the cigarette to her lips and taking a long, deep drag of it. Enough to make her head spin and her lungs feel like they were filled with ash.

Moments later, Officer Walker entered the room where the soldiers waited, the door creaking behind him as he let out a heavy sigh. Worn out, he wiped the sweat from his brow with the collar of his shirt. The armpits of his shirt darkened by sweaty halos from his hard work. His hands wiping off the blood that had collected on them on the front of his shirt, adding to the red already splattered there. 

“Fucker ain't breaking.” He looked over at two of the soldiers in the corner of the room. Beefy and brawnier than the rest, Walker gave them a wry grin. “Hey Turbo, Lazer, either of you have experience in breaking someone?”

The two soldiers shook their heads in unison, still lost for words after having witnessed what they’d seen in storage.

Andrew nudged Rory's side again, whispering to her. “Go on then.” He tipped his head towards Walker. “You do.”

“Andy, no,” she said with a glare.

But her Lieutenant would never leave it at that. He’d seen her do it more times than she would ever care to admit. He encouraged it, carrying her preferred tools with him just in case. He was the one who had given her the name ‘Lamb’ and it had bloody stuck because he knew what really lay below the surface. 

“Sinclair does,” Lieutenant Owen spoke up.

Walker’s grin dropped, his brow furrowing as he looked over at Rory. “Little miss humanitarian over there, really?”

Rory huffed out a cynical laugh, blowing cigarette smoke up towards the ceiling. “Oh, don't worry, sir. I only save the bleeding heart act for the innocent.”

Walker looked her up and down, not really believing it. Cracking a smile, he shook his head. “Hey, I'm all for equality, sweetheart. If you really think you can do a better job than me –”

“She can, sir,” Andrew was quick to add.

“Andy,” Rory hissed.

“You're bloody good at it, don't deny it.” His icy stare froze her, looking at her as if he saw through her. One of the only ones to see behind the mask. 

She sighed, pushing a hand through her hair before hopping off the table, her boots landing with a heavy thump on the concrete below, the weight of the world and the responsibility just handed to her dragging her down.

Pulling out a set of brass knuckles and a plastic bag from his vest pocket, Andrew looked up, giving her a quick, small smile. “For you, Sergeant.” 

Rory nodded, taking them from him and stuffing them into her back pocket before taking another drag from her cigarette and moving closer to the door by Walker.

“Go on, sweetheart,” Walker leaned down towards her, chuckling. “Show that bastard exactly what girl power looks like, huh,” the sarcasm practically dripped off his words.

She scowled, swallowing heavily as her hand twitched. Her throat always got dry moments before she’d have to face down her opponent. And that’s what they were. Interrogations weren’t a battle, they were a game of chess. Digging into their heads, getting them to question their moves, convincing them to play the way she wanted them to, finding their weak spot and then attacking it directly. That’s where most people failed to be successful. Unassuming Rory Sinclair, soft on the outside, hardly a threat, but alone in a room with her was the last place any enemy wanted to be. 

Before she could walk any further, Walker grabbed her arm and his amber eyes tried to read her sneer, his voice dropping low, “You really think you can handle this?”

Her mouth drawn in a straight line twisted into a sickly grin as she bit down on her tongue to stop her from spitting venom. Her jaw clenched tight as she tilted her head away to blow out smoke. “Yes, sir.”

“I wanna know where the weapons are and who he's working with. I don't want any sappy bullshit about the cargo, you hear me?”

“Understood.”

Giving her arm a quick squeeze, he couldn’t help but keep up with the patronizing tone and smile. “I'm counting on ya, honey.”