#I'd kill a man for 'em
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revenantghost · 8 months ago
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Trigun Stampede x Priroll 2024 [x]
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ianthedebonair · 6 months ago
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Old(er) man Damien, maybe? (assuming he doesn't get anymore banged up or telepathically go nuclear at the end 🤷‍♂️)
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maegalkarven · 1 year ago
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Family matters.
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m!(trans)Dark Urge x Enver Gortash.
Brainworms finally got to me, I caved in and wrote a oneshot on the topic of "but what if Durge and Gortash had a child prior to all that mess"
Featuring my Dark Urge Levi, pre- and post- memory loss.
There was a living, breathing infant child in his arms; and for the first time in a long while Lord Enver Gortash was in complete loss at what to do.
“What is it?” fell rather flat down, a poor excuse of a question.
Leviathan rolled his eyes.
“A meaty flesh of some newly created life,” he huffed, visibly annoyed. “Also known as a child. I assume you’ve met their kind?”
Enver felt anger rise alongside with deeply rooted annoyance. Whatever spectacle the bhaalspawn decided to partake in, now was not the time for that. Neither it was the time for his witty itty remarks.
“I am well aware it’s a child,” he argued back just as sullenly, the said child held loosely in his arms. In his arms. Why was there a child in his arms? They were not made for holding babies.
“I’m asking why is it a child and why is it here. The questions any sane person in my place would indulge in.”
There was something...off about the bhaalspawn.
Not only Enver hadn’t seen the man for almost the entity of a year, an assassin always claiming some task of utmost importance, but now he decided to pop out of the thin air with a live child in a tow and immediately push said child into his, Enver Gortash’s, not so open arms.
It was alarming, to say the least.
“Oh, that,” Levi waved him off like it was a casual annoyance and not a conversation two adults, so-conspirers - partners - had. Like Gortash imposed himself into his free time and personal space and not the other way around. “It’s yours.”
It’s what?
“Or at least I assume it’s yours,” Leviathan followed as Enver’s thoughts came to a rapid halt. “Since I haven’t touched anyone alive but you in a long time. And look where it led me,” the look of pure disdain was all the child was getting, it seemed. “A freshly made meaty cage for a new soul. Disgusting. You’d think Father would make this shit stop and would not allow a child of banite to be born, but I guess any bhaalspawn is a good little pawn under his merciful gaze. Anyway,” a wild, excusing gesture of a hand. “I don’t have any use for this...thing. Sceleritas suggested to bring it into the fold and let my men do all the work, but well, the bother. So you can take it instead,” a winning smile what would work wonders if not for the whole absurdity of the situation Gortash just found himself in. “Think of it as of a gift. A proof of my loyalty to our cause, hm?”
Sometimes the bastard was more annoying than he was charming and his presence took a toll on the man.
Sometimes Enver wanted nothing more than to break Levi’s pretty slender neck.
That was one of these times.
“And what am I supposed to do with it?”
“Oh, whatever you want,” another wide, generous gesture. This asshole truly thought of that...child as if of a gift to be given away, didn’t he?
Enver shouldn’t have been surprised, not really, he knew Leviathan’s stance on children.
“Taste good, not much of use when alive, it’s funny when they die first” – was as good of a take as one could expect from the leader of the Cult of Murder.
“You can throw it away or feed it to the dogs. You can raise it or give it to a hag or even sell it to the devil,” another smile that’s more malicious than anything else. “I don't really care, if I'm being honest.”
Unfortunately, killing a bhaalspawn when you were holding just another bhaalspawn would prove to be close to impossible.
It would have to wait, and Leviathan Anchev still had his uses, bratty as he was.
And his appeal, as deadly as that ordeal proved to be. Or how complicated.
A child, huh? Well, Enver supposed every ruler needed an heir.
“Bring me the wizard,” was the first order out of his mouth when bhaalspawn left. The child was safely given into the care of the first competent older servant, who looked just as bewildered as Gortash himself felt. “Tell him to scan the...the-“
“The boy, my lord.”
“Right, tell the mage to scan the boy’s heritage. Let’s find who his parents are, shall we?”
Trusting a psycho murderer was an awful idea even at the safest of times, and now were not those. Levi would lie just to fuck with Enver. Levi had to lie, because there was no way this infant boy was actually his, Enver’s, flesh and blood.
***
Leviathan Anchev did not lie.
***
Levi moved away to sprawl his body across the bed, the creature of leisure he was. He sniffed the air and then wrinkled his nose, closer to an animal than any other person Gortash has ever known. More appealing in that, in his beast-like fluid grace.
“You still have this thing around,” the man commented, frowning. “Why? Playing the dollhouse? How...quant.”
“This thing has a name,” Enver couldn’t not parry. “Noah.”
Leviathan groaned.
“Oh, spare me the details; I want nothing to do with that flesh meat. Having to carry it inside my body for almost a year was a bother enough. Almost cut it out myself on multiple occasions, but Sceleritas insisted the internal damage I’d deal would be too great to handle. Idiot.” A moment of a thoughtful pause.
“You know what my destiny is, right?”
A searching gaze, reaching hands, clawed fingers cupping Enver’s cheeks almost gently. Something changed between them some time ago, but what it was Lord Gortash could not pinpoint. 
Yet something...Shifted.
Levi searching his face for some kind of acknowledgement was a sign of this.
Leviathan Anchev Enver first met would not care less about his approval. Leviathan Anchev of now was Enver’s nearest and dearest and it was pretty much a mutual kind of thing.
“I know.”
To kill everyone in the world and then himself. In Bhaal’s name. A gruesome fate, and pointless. Dull, lacking of any grandiose his, Enver’s, path had.
If only he could break off this deadly conviction in his dear ally, if only there was a way to make him stray out of this path...
They could be good for each other. They could rule together as the gods of the new age; glorious, undefeatable, perfect.
The rulers Toriel truly deserved.
“Then you know I’ll have to kill this...thing,” a moment of barely noticeable hesitation. “This... Noah.”
Enver also knew he would rather see his lover bleed on the altar of his dreadful father than let it happen.
“I do.”
“I,” another uncertain pause. “I was planning to leave you for last. To kill you and myself in one final blow; a perfect tribute to Father. But,” and really, those damn pauses were starting to get on Enver’s nerves. Levi was never short of words before, so what in the nine hells had happened? “Would you rather prefer I’d do you and...Noah... together? To kill you two in one blow?”
Ah.
Enver saw it for what it was, in the uncertain, searching gaze of his unlucky lover, in the carefulness with which he produced words.
Something warm flooded out the irritation from before; something warm and soft and entirely fragile.
It was mercy, the only kind of mercy the bhaalspawn could know. Leviathan Anchev, the man fully capable of destroying everyone and everything on his wake, offered him a tiny piece of his own surrender. A confirmation of his affections, almost a confession.
In some ways he did care.
“That would be very considerate of you, yes,” he agreed, bringing bhaalspawn close. His bhaalspawn, his ally, his lover. The father of his son.
If there was a way of bringing Bhaal down without bringing Levi with him, Enver would find and utilize it. Otherwise he’d have to kill the best partner in crime he has ever had.
And that would be...unfortunate.
Levi leaned into the touch, soft and gentle in a way he has never been before; almost fragile.
Trusting.
“Does it...know about me?” came out in a whisper, almost unbidden.
“He knows you exist,” was all the response Enver could give, enveloping his assassin into his arms, holding him closely, firmly, painfully so.
The bhaalspawn squirmed for a moment before finally settling in.
“Oh,” he breathed out. “I didn’t think you would...What you would tell him I do. Exist, I mean. I’d expect you’d spin a tale of some tragically dead wife or-“
“There is no tragically dead wife,” Enver cut off, feeling rather irritated. A mystery of complications, his dear murderer. “Only a lunatic of a murderer for a father. Not what Noah knows that, he knows we’re working together and what you’re a very busy man.”
“Hmph,” Levi’s breath brushed Enver’s neck. “I guess that is true.”
“Do you want to,” and now it was his time to be a hesitant bother. “Meet him?
At that Leviathan actually laughed.
“Oh, absolutely not, keep him and that strange dollhouse of yours as far away from me as possible. I have things to do, people to kill, empires to rule. I don’t have time for meat-things, of my own creation or not.”
And just like that, it was as if nothing has changed.
***
The alarm goes off the moment Karlach finishes the last of the Hands and flies into a wall by the force of the explosive detonating right into her face.
Enver doesn’t stop to register that, or to look around at the bodies of his faithful, to mourn his perfectly constructed plans – his watch, the Iron Throne, the little fireworks shop – because the alarm in Noah’s private chambers went off and it only means one thing.
Intruders.
He skips one step at the time climbing up the steep steps to the higher, more private level.
Could that be the remaining of Orin’s assassins?
Levi said he dispatched of them all, but surely some had to survive by the sheer luck of not being in the temple at the moment. Are those Ravengard’s forces, Florrick’s?
Is it Leviathan, finally coming to sniff out the life he himself created?
He is vaguely aware of the younger Ravengard and the pale elf taking the chase after him, of Karlach joining in.
They think he is escaping.
Idiots.
Enver tries not to think what he is leading the enemies right to his son; he’ll deal with them later. Right now there’s blazing alarm shrieking what something is wrong – and indeed it is, as he discovers with the first body lying dead on the floor. Then the second. Then the third.
All of them – with their throats ripped open, Leviathan’s favorite style.
Enver turns the corner and reaches for the door handle – the door is unlocked and half open: this is bad, bad, bad-
Then he hears a laughter and pauses.
He opens the door slowly and carefully instead of throwing it open as he intended at first.
And sees...
Levi is sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning slightly forward.
Across of him, sitting in the exact same – ridiculous – pose sits the boy not older than five. He has a dark messy hair, blazing green eyes what betray his nature, and the new game Gortash brought to him just recently. He is trying to explain the rules to the tiefling in front of him, who listens attentively, nodding here and there.
“Wow,” Leviathan Anchev comments with an air of nonchalance he didn’t have before. “I did not understand a thing. But good for you, lil one, good for you.”
“It’s really not that difficult,” Noah insists. “I can teach you! We can play together.”
Enver steps closer, somehow is still not detected neither by his son nor by his...his what?
Karlach almost crashes into the doorframe after him, but somehow manages to steady herself, takes in the view in front of her – and freezes.
So do the other two of Levi’s unruly companions. Gortash especially doesn’t like the pale one; he has a habit of sticking way closer to the bhaalspawn than it is proper.
“I am not that good at these kinds of games,” Levi admits as his tail flips from side to side and nostrils flare; he has detected him. Probably smelled before sensing. “But I have a friend with a real knack for them. He is a wizard and knows a lot of fun things; I think you’d get along.”
Noah looks uncertain.
“Are you sure?” he looks down. “I don’t think...I’m not allowed outside.”
“Really? And why is that?”
“Well,” the boy fidgets with his game. “Father says people who oppose him would try to use me against him, if they knew I existed. So I am kind of...a secret? It’s for my own safety!” he immediately adds, seeing Leviathan’s face blank out. “There’s a murderer on the loose, she really doesn’t like father despite supposedly working with him. Father says she will kill me if she finds out I exist.”
“Oh,” Levi looks taken aback at that. “I don’t think you need to worry about that anymore. If you’re talking about who I think you’re talking about, then she has been dealt with already.”
“Oh!” Noah brightens. “By whom?”
“By me. But say,” the spawn looks quizzically at the child in front of him, frowning slightly. “Is it just your father and you? Where’s your mother?”
“I don’t have one,” and this is definitely the moment then Enver needs to intervene, but he is just...frozen in place, turned to stone.
Leviathan Anchev he knew hated children.
This Leviathan Anchev is talking to a child as it was his best friend.
“I have a dad though!” Noah is a sweet fool, Enver taught him much better than telling complete strangers his entire life’s story. Stop. Talking. “He is...working a lot and is too busy to visit,” the boy looks down gloomily. “But! He and father are very close; they even stole from the devil together!”
Levi blinks. Then blinks once more. Then again.
“The devil, you say?” and is it just Gortash’s imagination, but did the man’s voice just rise up an octave?
“Yes! And not just any devil, the achdevil Mephistopheles!” Noah looks so absurdly proud of that it hurts. “They snuck right into his home, stole a crown from his vault and returned here. Unspotted, unstopped. Victorious.”
“What the fuck?” Karlach lets out and both the boy and the bhaalspawn who created him turn to the door.
Noah’s face immediately brightens.
“Father!” he exclaims, hastily getting to his feet and rushing to him. Behind the boy Levi gives the man the most bewildered stare he has ever seen.
“You have a child!” young Ravengard speaks out with the accusation in his voice. Enver really isn’t sure whom the man is addressing.
Noah is unperturbed.
“Father, I met a really cool guy, his name is Levi and he must be your friend because he came here with no problem at all; and he has children at his camp, two girls named Yenna and Arabella. Arabella is a druid because she stole the idol of Sylvanus and it gave her powers, and Yenna has a cat! But the cat is anxious so I shouldn’t pet it, but I can look at it! Please, can I look at Yenna’s cat? Levi said the evil murderer is dealt with, so it’s probably safe. And Levi can guard me if needed. Also there’s a vampire spawn in his camp and-“
The pale elf coughs.
“Hello there,” he tries, pulling a not entirely convincing smile up his lips. “A vampire spawn speaking. And you would be...”
“I am Noah!” says Noah right away; and did Enver shelter him too much? Damn, he has sheltered him too much. Look at the boy, he wants to befriend a vampire spawn. “I’m the son of the Archduke! Hello.”
“Yes, hi,” the elf looks at Levi uncertainly and back. “So...”
“So,” the bhaalspawn steps forward, the bewildered look stuck to his face. He crouches down to Noah’s level and takes his hands into his calloused and clawed ones. “So Noah...Your dad is the man who helped your father to steal the crown from the devil, is that right?”
Noah nods vigorously and Enver takes his time to observe the scene; the two bhaalspawns in front of each other, Levi’s posture, his relaxed shoulders, his slightly shaking hands. The tail that seems to have a life on its own and moves agitatedly behind its owner.
Three companions of the bhaalspawn, all somewhat stuck in place, with different levels of surprise stitched up their faces. The pale elf – a step closer, almost lingering at Leviathan’s side. Annoying.
Yet somehow, no matter how hard Gortash looks at it, he doesn’t sense any danger. Doesn’t see it, even with Karlach still aflame by the doorframe.
“Yep,” Noah agrees eagerly. “I wish he’d come to meet me soon. He will come, right? Once the work is done and all,” the boy sighs. “I mean, I am his son, surely he would care to come to meet me.”
“Um,” the tiefing looks uncertain. “And what if...something happened to him? What if he, say, lost his memories?”
“How? Did something hit him in the head?”
The vampire spawn chokes on a laugh and Levi rolls his eyes at him.
“Sure,” he agrees. “Let’s call it that. So...what if he doesn’t...exactly remember having you?”
“You mean if he’s lost and doesn’t know he needs to come back?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I guess I’d come looking for him. He is my other father. It’s important.”
The force of conviction behind these words hits harder than a thunderwave.
Leviathan blinks hard, clears his throat, and then-
“You...don’t have to. I don’t remember much about my life before...certain events, but it was made adamantly clear to me I was the one to break into the Mephistopheles’ vault with your father. And if your dad is who did that, then,” he stops. “Then I guess- Enver, are you really just going to stand here like a fucking statue? Tell me if this is what I think it is or not.”
“You swore!”
“No, the fuck, I did not. Enver-“
“Now you swore twice!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake-“
“So,” Gortash steps forward, a lazy smile dancing on his lips. Gods only know how much this smile costs him. “You have known your son for the entirety of twenty minutes and already taught him a swear word. Really impressive.”
“Father?”
“Oh, listen here, you poignant prick-“
This, Enver thinks, is what family feels like.
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"It is done, my Champion. When this world comes to heel, you will be my blade in the dark. Together we will remind mortals why they once feared the night."
Guess who just finished Mordremoth's Fang the other night. :)
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yangsbandana · 2 years ago
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the way arryn troche described yang as "being a menace to society" when she's actually interested in someone makes me think yang is the type to do stupid dorky cheesy romantic gestures that has blake absolutely smiling and laughing but leaves everyone else unfortunate enough to be in the same vicinity as them groaning and wishing they were anywhere else but there
LMAO i must have missed that comment from arryn, but they're so right. now that yang's feelings for blake are out there, once the team is in a good spot again yang is going to be SO LOUD about being in love with blake and blake is 100000% going to eat it the FUCK up.
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irregularbillcipher · 1 year ago
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going over old fic notes and outlines and character talks with friends and it's always really funny when i get to the stuff i was developing early-mid 2019 where bill just literally kept kryptos around to rag on, and he genuinely just. did not like the man. like was just completely annoyed with his general existence. boy have things changed
#for anyone curious: i came to the conclusion that no amount of 'this guy sucks but he's fun to bully' would get bill to keep someone around#for like literal eons. bill gets bored of his toys too quickly. he'd break 'em. plus the fact that bill decided he was worth saving to begi#with. there was at first an element of 'i owe the guy' because [FIC SPOILERS] and a grudging 'if i had a gun to my head i'd say he was my#best friend i GUESS but do not tell him that' but no real genuine friendship or anything more#before realizing that with the specific story i was going to tell it just made the most sense to have these assholes still be like.#bad people for sure but to actually care about each other. it also just felt too easy to write bill off as someone whose cruelty is just#a lack of certain emotions. like that doesn't automatically make a bad person and a bad person doesn't automatically lack emotion#(there's a character that'll be introduced sometime soon who is aroace and doesn't make friends easily and she's lovely because...)#(idk man. i'm aroace and why shouldn't she be. a lack of affection doesn't make you bad and the ability to feel it doens't make you good)#so bill can and does love people-- even if actual vulnerability is near impossible to get from him-- and kryptos is included in that#it's just that he still sucks really bad and hurts and even kills people that he loves because again. bad person who has no idea how to#navigate relationships healthily because of his own baggage and the environment he grew up in#(also in canon he usually does not want to navigate relationships healthily because. again. he sucks!)#so the only lasting relationship he's ever had where he isn't trying to hurt someone is still just... messy as hell#(and to be fair kryptos is also a p. bad person by adulthood it's just that they're pretty young at this point in the fic)#(so there's less avenues to show that)#kryptos being desperate for any scrap of attention and bill providing the only attention he's ever gotten was always the vibe#but it really was much more of a 'bully and bulling victim who he lets hang around him because said victim'#'is like the only one willing to talk to him' dynamic which is... very much not the case anymore#as said in the tags of my fic. these awful shapes care about each other as best they can care about anyone#anyway sorry idk how much anyone really cares about these tag essays but theyre helpful for me to get my thought process like... down#and track how different the story used to be
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dilfsuzanneyk · 1 year ago
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i should get like. a proper atari. will it actually work? god knows but it'd be cool wouldn't it
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the-acid-pear · 1 year ago
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Devil on my shoulder tells me to make more frog serial killers . I just want to make dudes who suck ass so bad . . .
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trans-leek-cookie · 1 year ago
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Sometimes I wanna just sit down and like say "hey. We're making jokes here and I don't care if you think a band I like for fun is cringe and dumb bc they're white. Can you please tell me if you're making fun of them for being Cringe and White or if you're making fun of them for Being Racist. Thanks"
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nugulover69 · 1 year ago
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Big fan of Ken nearly murdering the Geki team with a truck in his debut episode
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bigification · 2 months ago
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Handlebars
Day 1:
My first day of college was a lot more stressful than I thought it would be. I finally made it to residence last night, which only gave me one night to get settled before classes started. I was nervous to meet my roommate because of all of the horror stories I had heard about them in the past, but it ended up being so much worse than I expected. In my mind, the worst outcome was some lazy douche who never cleaned up after himself. So you can imagine my shock when I knock on the door and a full grown 30 something year old man answers the door.
"Hey, buddy. The names Mike, come on in."
He looked and sounded like a jock in a college movie, but when the actor is actually 30. His voice was deep and buttery, it almost gave me butterflies. I just smiled awkwardly and walked past him through the door.
"I'm Oscar by the way." I introduced myself.
"Cool, I'll just call you Handlebars." He said, without a care in the world.
He sat down on his bed, and that was the extent of our interactions for the day.
Day 7:
It's been a week and all my other worries about roommates came true. Not only is he 15 years older than me, he's a slob. He gets home from the gym drenched in sweat and throws his gym clothes wherever without cleaning them. He doesn't do his dishes, or any chore for that matter. In fact it seems like he intentionally keeps the place dirty after I try to clean it. And whatever musky cologne he wears attacks my nose every time I open the door, it feels like the smell seeps into everything, including my clothes.
The few times that he actually wants a chore to be done, he just asks me to do it, or rather he just tells me to do it. Normally I would be happy to tell him to go fuck himself, but I always find myself doing whatever he asks. I hate it.
"Yo Handlebars, be a doll and clean the dishes for me."
"Yo Handlebars, I ran out of clean gym clothes, mind running em down to the laundry for me."
It's like he's casting a spell whenever he talks.
Day 15:
I've started to settle into routine. The things that used to bother me about Mike seem a bit more trivial now. We've even started to become pretty close. I get enthralled by his conversations about business. He goes on and on about his father's enterprises, and how they'll be his soon.
I even started going to the gym with him lately. He lent me some of his gym clothes, even if they're way too big. It just made me appreciate him more. I never really clocked how jacked he was, sometimes he goes to the gym shirtless and it shows off his massive pecs and thick biceps.
Since joining him, I've noticed my body has improved quite significantly. I used to be skinny and lanky, but there is definition starting to show throughout my body.
Day 30:
Just a month into school and I was already on my way to failing out. I just don't care about it anymore, but Mike gave me a solution. He said I could just switch programs and do business with him, and his dad would even pay for it. How could I pass that up.
Now that I've switched, it's like all stress in my life has disappeared. Business is so easy, and now I have more time with Mike. We usually have a routine of going to the gym after our last class of the day.
"Yo Handlebars, you're lookin strong man. I'd kill to grow as fast as you."
He shouted at me from across the gym, when he caught me staring at myself in the mirror. Butterflies flew through my stomach when he said that. And he wasn't wrong, I've been noticing a lot of changes in my body. My face has matured, my eyebrows are thicker, my nose is bigger, and my jawline is more square. I even have to shave now, when I never had to before college. A five o'clock shadow engulfs my face by the end of the day, especially above my lip. The rest of my body has gotten hairier too, especially around my pecs, arms, and legs. And that's not even mentioning my progress at the gym. I actually look like I belong there, my biceps have a nice roundness to them and my chest actually sticks out from my body. Those gym clothes that Mike gave me look smaller and smaller every day.
Life in the dorms has also been a dream. I've been wearing that cologne that Mike loves, and it's like I unlocked a whole new level of confidence. People seem to love listening to me talk, and people seem to respect me more.
Day 60:
This past month has been the best month of my life. Now that I'm in my mid twenties, I can drink whenever I want. Mike and I go out raves and frat parties basically every night, my body is basically used to every drug at this point. And with Mike's dad paying for college, I literally don't need to show up to lectures and I get straight A's.
"Fuck, bro. I think you're bigger than me Handlebars."
Mike said with a shocked face when we were snapping pics at the gym. We flexed beside each other, and it was obvious. My biceps dwarfed his, and his gym clothes had become really tight on me lately. The shirt was skin tight against my upper body, showing off my juicy pecs and my growing six pack. And the shorts looked like they were about to burst under the pressure of my ass cheeks and thighs, to the point that the outline of my dick was constantly visible.
"Here bro, take this."
Mike handed me a package. It was filled with gym clothes and jocks.
"Just for you Handlebars."
I yanked him in for a bro hug, I could feel myself blushing.
"You got this all for me bro?"
"Fuck yeah, man. You've been grinding it out in the gym, don't think I haven't noticed my clothes straining against those muscles. And you need something to contain that snake in your pants before we get campus security called on us."
Mike chuckled, his laugh was infectious.
Day 100:
I started in the mirror. Sometimes I barely recognize myself. The confident and cocky mask goes away when I'm alone, just leaving the caring gym bro that's on the true inside.
Damn, I think to myself, Mike is making me too sappy. I give myself a cocky smile after shaving my face, leaving me with a thick moustache. I flex, admiring my guns and bouncing my pecs. Man I look good for a man pushing his thirties.
"Fuck, handlebars. Since when were you so hairy?" Mike asked me when I left the bathroom.
"What? Are you jealous I'm manlier than you bro?" I taunted him by opening my button up wider, revealing the thick pelt of hair that covered my body.
"Nah, it's got me feelin something tho." He smirked at me.
"Hah, I fuckin knew it. You want a piece of this." I bounced my pecs.
"Don't make it gay bro, it's not like that. Just a dude admiring another dude." He blushed.
The tension between us had been building for weeks. He would stand too close when spotting me at the gym, and I'd catch him staring at me in the mirror. Not like I haven't been doin it too. We also wear less clothes around the dorm. I still got that jock strap Mike gave me a while back, I'd be lying to myself if I said it fit but I don't care, and it seems like Mike doesn't mind either. And sometimes I wear an open button up just cuz it makes my pecs pop.
Day 120:
"You have no idea how long I've waited for this." Mike whispered in my ear. His breath was heavy as he threw me against the wall. His dick was bouncing with excitement against my ass.
For context, a few hours ago we were at the gym like normal. At this point, we didn't even go to class, it was just gym and parties now. The tension had been growing at the gym forever, sometimes we'd release by foolin around in the showers, but it never went further a quick handjob when no one was lookin. It was different this time, he couldn't keep his hands off me. Broad daylight in a busy gym, his hands would be far down my shorts, teasing.
At first I was dismissive. We already got caught multiple times by campus security, so close to getting kicked out of school. If it wasn't for Mike's dad being a rich alumni, I think both of us would be long gone by now. But he knew how to push my buttons, he always has. I gave in, but had the decency to drag him by the collar to the showers. At least there we could be naked.
Ok, back to the point. I grunted as his thick arms held me in place. Mike had been working extra hard to catch up to me, and it was showin. It turned me on, feelin his muscled forearms against my shoulders. But I wasn't gonna let him win that easily. What Mike seemed to forget was the near decade I spent in the Navy before comin to college.
I whipped around, using the hot water against our skin to slip out from his pin. I pushed his shoulder, sending him tripping over my foot, which I had conveniently placed behind his. I caught him like a damsel in distress, so there was no doubt in his mind who was on top.
Within seconds, it's like my training kicked in and I had him pinned down on his stomach. The bristles of my thick mustache rubbed against the back of his ear as I whispered, "You really thought you could top me?" I asked with a chuckle.
He moaned like a twink when I stuck my cock up his ass. It took a moment for his ass to adjust to takin a beatin rather than dishin one out, but he'll get used to it. The wet fur on my forearm slid across his back as I rode him like a bull. I could almost feel his organs rearrangin to fit my 10 inch rod.
I groaned as I felt months of sexual tension release in seconds, shooting my seed all through Mike's body. He was mine. And by the looks of it, he enjoyed the ride too. A trail of his cum ran from under his pinned body, to the drain in the middle of the showers.
"You're mine."
I whispered in his ear with a shit eatin grin.
"Now clean this mess up before you dare come back to my dorm."
I pushed off his back to get to my feet. I continued rubbing my cock as I walked away, making ropes of cum cover the showers. I walked right out of the showers and into the locker room, making sure to wink at campus security on the way out. Someone always calls them, and we always get away with it Scott free, so I think they gave up. It just feels good to make people know they're beneath you, and to do it while rubbin one out.
I cleaned up and walked alone to my dorm, sat on my couch, and waited for Mike to come back. After a few minutes, he walked in without a word. He walked over to me and laid in my lap as I turned on football. I smelled his hair, making sure he actually cleaned up like I ordered.
"Good boy." I reassured him while massaging his pecs.
Day 150:
I finally moved our stuff out of my shitty dorm. Mikey's father just decided to pay for our diplomas outright, instead of trying to turn all of our F's into A's.
We moved to L.A. and I fuckin love it here. I just walk around in nothin but a jock, and people love me for it. And there are so many entrepreneurs like me, so much money to be made.
Everyone just calls me handlebars, I can't remember the last time anyone called me my name. Now that I think about it, I don't even remember what it was, but who the fuck cares. I'm handlebars, the life of the party and the best fuck in this city.
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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago
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some women don't want the bear
john 'soap' mactavish
cw: smut/pwp, predator/prey, cnc, roleplay/fantasy, forest sex, messy sex, unprotected sex, after care, gunplay, degrading language, dirty talk, (partially) clothed sex, pussy slapping, filth (!!!)
bunny says! reblogs, tags & comments feed the rabbit!
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you never really thought about scotland having forests. you always imagined the rolling plains and large cows. not dense forests as you hastily ran pass trees and tried not to trip over roots.
your heart was racing, your breathing ragged. you needed to get away from the man in the woods. he had found you cabin for the week and had tried to get his way inside. the only way for you was out the door and into the forests before he could harm you.
"shit, shit, shit." you panted as you tried to get further into the forest, only getting more lost. you felt panic all of as you ended up in a clearing.
you wanted to scream for help, but no one would hear you. you were a lost little thing, all alone in the woods with a big scary man. a man who wanted to take you apart.
your knees felt weak as you looked around, the afternoon light shined through the thick foliage of the trees. you eventually crumbled to your knees like a dying deer when you heard the snap of a twig nearby. you quivered and whimpered when the heavy footsteps came closer.
you felt yourself be yanked by the hair and forced to look up at the man in front of you. you bottom lip wobbled, "please don't kill me, sir."
he chuckled and tapped his pistol to your nose, "cute. i don't like 'em dead, bonnie. i like 'em when they struggle." then pressed the gun to your lips, "c'mon. be a good little whore and suck. or i'll find another way to get this thing wet." his eyes cast down to your lap.
you carefully licked the gun and the intruders eyes were on you. his blue eyes gleamed like sapphires, full of danger. you never got his name as you continued to suck off his gun.
you prayed it wasn't loaded.
"pretty girl for me." he said, "bet you're popular with the boys at uni." he laughed before he used his other hand to comb his fingers through your hair, "don't worry about that. once i get my seed planted in ya, you'll be too tired to think about other boys while you're chasin' my boys around." he pinched your cheek, "hard to finish school when you're nursing one babe and pregnant with another." he chuckled.
you hated how hot it felt. it flooded your core and made your face hot all over. your heart raced as you continued to lick the weapon.
his words kept coming, "you, me and our little mission to repopulate that big cabin you were staying in. you were tempting me with that, one woman doesn't need that many rooms. you were hoping i'd come and give you an excuse to fill 'em up. better i come and seed that little cunt of yours before a big bear or something comes and does it instead.' he laughed at the improbability of that.
you looked up at him, your eyes gleamed in the afternoon light and it made the intruder's cock twitch in his pants. he patted your cheek a little harder than you liked before he wanted you to have the real thing.
he tossed the weapon to the side and pushed you down onto your back. he got on top of you and he could feel the heat of your core through those thin tights. he didn't give it much time before he ripped the cheap fabric at the crotch, followed by your panties ending up in tatters too at the seam.
"good hold you got there, bonnie." he purred, "a nice tight little cunt that i'm gonna enjoy ruining." he chuckled as he sank two thick fingers into your sweet puffy hole. he sank in like a hot knife cut butter, "oh, someone's a little whore, huh? do you let all the big scary men of the forest fuck you? or am i just special." he smiled with all teeth and you felt wetness grow between your legs.
he crowded your space, his weight on top of you kept your pinned. you weren't as strong or as big as him. he was muscular with a mohawk and a tattoo. you could already feel his length pressing against you through his jeans.
he was going to split you in half with that thing!
"ya want it, bonnie? do you want me to fuck you raw. ruin you for any other man so much so that another man could even breed you. get that pretty cunt addicted to my cum." he patted your pussy before he sank his fingers back into you, now using his thumb to play with your clit.
you sent electricity through you, you tried to find some support from the forest floor to get yourself out from under him. but there was no escaping him. you were going to be bred by this monster.
you wanted to hit him, but he was a bulk of solid muscle. you would break your hands before you made any dent in him. you laid there and kicked out your legs but you were pinned under him.
he took his fingers out of your slick pussy and licked your wetness off of them letting out a soft moan, you tasted so good. he said, "a wife's gotta taste good, even when heavy with bairn." then placed a broad hand on your stomach as he got his cock out of his blue jeans.
the birds chirped and the sun beamed down on you as you laid in the mess of leaves and twigs. you could feel the man's heavy gaze on you. you swallowed at the sight of his cock, it was thick. you swore his balls were heavy, ready for breeding.
he kept his hand on you as he guided his cock into your sweet, slick pussy. he groaned a little bit as he pushed into you. your pussy felt so good enough his cock.
he chuckled, "where have you been all my life?" his pace skipped pleasantries and soon he was bullying it deep into your womb, "a pretty little thing to breed and keep. you, me and a bunch of babies." he was so large compared to you, you couldn't fight him off. he looked like a military man, even if you could get out from under him, he would stalk you through the forest. he groaned, "you're so good for me, lettin' me use that sweet cunt of yours. i'll keep this little cunt." he patted it before he gave it a firm slap.
you panted and squirmed under him, a fruitless attempt as he fucked you with a fury that you couldn't find words for. his cock felt like it was in the back of your throat.
the harshness of his thrusts made your head spin as you gripped onto him and tried to get him off of you. but he wasn't going anywhere, he was too busy having his cock into you. he wasn't going anywhere until he was finished with you.
you were his now.
regardless the pleasure coursed through you and the pace made you hot all over. the feeling was overwhelming and you knew you wouldn't last long. you panted and moaned, your entire body was burning from the intense pleasure.
"please." you whimpered.
"what?" he asked, curious what you had to say.
"please don't kill me." you whimpered.
"no, no.. shh, shh. no way." he said, his voice overly sweet, "i would never. now c'mon, bonnie. cum for your husband." as he continued to thrust up against you cunt.
you then gripped onto the forest floor as best as you could and arched your back. you then climaxed. you felt your body betray you as your pussy clenched around him as you it all became too much. you felt like an animal being bred in the forest. "fuck." you gasped.
"so good. fuck, i'm gonna ruin that little pussy. don't worry, bonnie.
he spurted inside of you with a heavy grunt before he slowed to a stop. his heart hammered in his chest as he admired the sight of you. he gave you pussy a firm slap before he pulled out.
"good girl." and after that, the little roleplay ended. and the man you loved came back. he got you in his arms as he kissed at your face, you were still in a state of bliss as your orgasm still came through you.
johnny then picked the twigs out of your hair, he got his jacket around your shoulders. he may have gone a little over kill with ripping your leggings and panties. but you were safe with him now.
"did you like that?" he asked as he rubbed your shoulders before he helped you onto your shaky legs. he'd carry you if he had to, that what was what a husband did for his wife.
even if she wanted to have crazy, kinky forest sex during their honeymoon. but he'd have to admit, it did excite him too. using those skills of his to good use. so before he picked you up and brought you back to the cabin for some nice tea and food, he waited to give him a response.
you looked up at him, as if your cheek was scraped from the debris on the forest floor. your eyes gleamed, almost excitingly as you said, "can we do that again sometime?" <3
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zepskies · 3 months ago
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Dean: Hey, sweetheart. Where are my—
You: Did you check under the bed? Next to your gun.
Dean: Why'd you stick 'em under there?
You: ...Because that's where they go.
Dean: Says friggin' who?
You: Says me, so I don't trip over them at 2 a.m. trying to find the bathroom. I'd rather not kill myself on your old man slippers.
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Dean W. Tag List:
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine
@roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @just-levyy
@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @lacilou @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chriszgirl92
@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @deansbbyx @sarahgracej @kaleldobrev
@mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky
@my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @syrma-sensei
@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings
@alwaystiredandconfused @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70
@kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28
@spnwoman @stoneyggirl2 @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles
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all-purpose-dish-soap · 5 months ago
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41 / 3k / soap soulmate au, part 10
...
Gaz's bullet slides neatly into the target's head, folding into his frontal cortex, his hypothalamus, and lodging to a satisfying stop in his brain stem.
Your job is done.
Ignoring the radio chatter between Gaz and Price, you slip away from the dead man. Your boots grind blood and broken glass into the carpet as you go. You should vanish before Soap's team can catch up to you. You head for the opposite corner of the mansion. They don’t have eyes there.
You slide the ground floor window open and pull Soap's radio collar from your neck. You’re about to remove the earpiece when it crackles in your ear. It's Ghost's voice.
"They got Johnny."
You pause. Your teammates are rough, but they won’t kill Johnny. Right? They won’t kill a soldier.
"Where is he?" Price's voice crackles back.
"Basement lounge," Ghost mutters. The radio catches shouting voices in the background.
"Can you get to him?" Price asks.
Gunshots crackle through the earpiece. Ghost curses. "Negative, sir. Too many mercs and he's agitatin' 'em as it is. Might be able to fish him out, but I'd need a better vantage point.”
“Is he in immediate danger?”
“Don’t think so.”
"Then keep yourself hidden, Lieutenant. Kyle and I are en route."
Your stomach twists. Price doesn't sound like he plans to negotiate. You switch the radio's to KorTac's frequency. "Horangi, what's going on?"
There's a long pause before he replies, and several other voices echo underneath his. "Where the hell are you? SAS is fucking up our whole job. The cargo is gone."
You force yourself to get a grip on your own cover story even as you slip through the window and drop silently to the ground. Snow squeaks under your boots. "How did he know about the cargo?" you ask, your voice careful and even.
"I don't know. Shit, maybe someone fed him information. Military dogs love their rats." There's a pause. Horangi's voice sounds more distant as he speaks away from the mic. "Oy, shitbag. Who gave you the intel?”
You let out a breath of relief. Johnny will have no choice but to give them your name in exchange for his freedom. You'll be far, far away before your teammates know you're gone. KorTac won't bother with trying to track you down. It'd be a waste of money. Even if they did, you've disappeared before. You know how not to be found.
It’ll be a clean break for you both.
Then Johnny's voice crackles into your ear through Horangi's mic.
"No rat," he says. You hear him smirking, but a snarl edges the bravado in his voice. "Your security's piss-poor."
What? No. Bad, that's bad. Johnny’s playing at taking the blame. Of course he is. He thinks he's protecting you. Stubborn idiot.
Horangi chuckles. “You want to die here? That can be arranged.”
Something under your sternum clenches. This is your fault. You stare down at the fresh snow in front of you. You can still leave. Your plan never involved seeing him again, and it certainly didn't involve helping him if he got his ass in trouble. But you're the one who told him where the hostages were. He's only in the basement lounge because of you.
With Price and Gaz in the way, and with Ghost seeking a higher vantage point, sniper in hand, your teammates don’t know how much trouble they’re in, either.
Goddamn him. Why can’t he just rat you out? Why can’t he just be as heartless as you are?
You turn and retrace your trek back to the mansion. You don't know what you're going to do to avoid the confrontation at hand and make a clean escape, but maybe you'll come up with something on the way.
...
You slip into the lounge behind your teammates. Soap is on his knees, hands ziptied behind his back with the barrel of Horangi's rifle to his head.
Every last one of your squadmates is here. With you, that's a dozen mercenaries. You check the upper corners, the catwalks—Ghost is nowhere to be found. Of course. There'd be no way for Ghost alone to snipe enough of your teammates in one go to pull Johnny out of this mess. Nor is there any alarm you can pull, no authority you can leverage to get your soulmate out of the position you put him in.
You switch your radio frequency back to 141's secure channel. "Ghost, don't shoot. I can talk them down."
But it's Price's voice that echoes back. "Stay put, love. We'll get it sorted."
"Listen to me--"
"You in position, Ghost?" Price asks calmly.
"Affirmative, sir."
"Good. Gaz and I will be there shortly. When I signal, you take out as many as you can. We'll clean up the rest. Until then, stay hidden. We don't need a body count of our own."
You ease your finger off the comm, hands shaking. A fucking bloodbath? That's Price's plan? You think back to how he stared across the interrogation table at you, his eyes crinkling in amusement at the barbs you threw back at him. He'd have killed anyone else.
No, focus. You pull the earpiece out and rip the radio unit, cords and all, away from you. It clatters to the ground. A few of your squadmates glance over. You push your way through them until Horangi's eyes fall on you. Johnny’s do, too, but you refuse to look at him.
"He's obviously military,” you say, pinning Horangi with as severe a look as you can summon. “You can't just kill him. You know what would happen."
Horangi scoffs and looks back down at Soap. "He could be impersonating a soldier for all I know. Besides, military mutts bark." He presses the muzzle of his rifle harder into Soap's skull. "So bark, or I shoot."
"If you let me up right now," Soap growls, "I won't rip your goddamn hands off. How about that?" 
Horangi tuts. "You're in no position to be making threats, mutt. Answer me or I'll shut you up permanently. Who gave you the intel?”
"He's not the only one," you interrupt again, talking fast. "He's... His team. They're looking for him."
Horangi’s gaze rises to you again, a strange look in his eye. You've said too much. "Where have you been?" he asks you with a hard stare.
"With the protectee."
"And where is he now?"
Silence swells between you and him. You feel your teammates' eyes on you now. This is your last chance to walk away. If you do, the path ahead of you will be free and clear. And whatever blood is spilled here in service of this stupid mission will be on your hands.
Soap sees the look on your face. "No, hen, don't--"
"I'm the rat," you say. "I fed him the information. The protectee is dead."
Soap curses and tries to lunge to his feet. Horangi pushes him down with the heel of his boot between his shoulder blades. Soap grunts in pain.
"How interesting," Horangi says. "And why would you do that?"
"Don't listen to her," Soap growls. "She's lyin'."
He's still fighting the cuffs around his wrists. His shoulders jerk with every tug, trying in vain to break the plastic tie. A horrible feeling clutches at his chest. He knows what you're doing, and everything in him rebels against the idea. He's so close to finally having you, so close to saving you from yourself.
He never wanted you to come here. He wanted you safe, far away. The thought of something happening to you is far worse than any of the pain he might have endured if you hadn’t come back for him.
You risk a glance at Soap. He looks stricken. You almost wish you could explain, but it wouldn't make a difference. He should know better. You do your job. That's who you are. Even if it means there’ll be hell to pay.
You force your eyes back to Horangi's. "The bastard deserved it," you say simply.
Horangi scoffs. "Obviously. And we deserve our paychecks.” He watches Soap struggle under his boot. "You know him?"
You glance down at Soap, taken off guard. "He's..."
Soap meets your gaze, his eyes still burning with fire despite the situation. “Hen,” he says. “You are makin’ a mistake.”
Horangi leans onto Soap’s shoulder, pinning him flatter. Soap grunts.
Horangi smirks. “He seems to know you. You know, if it were me, I'd just keep my mouth shut and let him take the blame. That's what he wants, isn't it?” He jabs the barrel of his rifle against Soap’s spine.
Soap’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t take his eyes off you.
"In fact," Horangi muses, "I might be more inclined to believe him than you. Not to mention our employer would be very disappointed to know someone on payroll sabotaged a very well-paying job. I don’t think you’d do that unless you had a good reason.”
You hear your teammates murmur behind you. Horangi is giving you an out. Your teammates will know what you did, but KorTac won't. Plausible deniability brings back the possibility of escape. You're shocked Horangi would offer at all, knowing now what you did.
But you steel yourself. You know what you have to do. "Check his left arm," you tell him.
Horangi examines you, but there's no skepticism in his eyes—only intrigue. He gestures to a few of the mercs behind you. Two push past you. They hold Soap down, and Horangi grabs Soap's cuffed wrists and pushes his sleeve up his arm. It's there plain as day—the soulmark bearing your name.
Soap grits his teeth. You're giving yourself up for him. You're going to take the fall in exchange for his freedom. Why can't you just do one goddamn thing he wants you to do? It should be him protecting you.
He tries to catch your eye again, but you look away from his furious glare. Deep down, a part of him understands you. That infuriates him even more. You're doing this out of some sick sense of duty. Just like everything else.
Horangi is impassive. "Ah. Guess that explains it."
A hand comes down hard on your shoulder, and you're pulled back hard as two of your teammates take you by the arms and ziptie you. You don't struggle. One of them kicks out the back of your knee and forces you to kneel. 
Soap snarls as he tries to shake the mercenaries pinning him down. "Get your hands off her!"
Horangi smirks down at Soap. "You really do like each other, eh? Cute."
Soap's blood burns through him. All his systems are haywire. He's angry at you, but he's more furious than he's ever been in his life at the men holding him down. He jerks again, taking one of the mercs by surprise. He manages to get to one knee before they're on him again, joined by two more of your comrades who stream in to help.
They force him to the ground once more. Horangi digs his knee into Soap's back and jabs him with the butt of his rifle. Another merc kicks a boot into his gut. But Soap doesn't stop. He's not going down without a fight. He won't sit there quietly and let anyone walk away with his woman.
Horangi looks down his rifle at Soap and rests his hand on the trigger, his smirk gone. "Careful," he says, voice low. "I still might just shoot you."
"Then you'd better kill me in one shot, because when I get my hands around your fuckin' neck--"
"Johnny, stop," you interject.
"Why?" he growls. "You think I'm just gonna sit here and watch you give yourself up?"
"You don't have a choice."
"The hell I don't."
Horangi pushes his rifle harder against Soap's skull. "Listen to her, mutt."
"Hey," you snap at him. One of your comrades behind you pulls your arms back, and you realize you're unconsciously fighting to get close. "Let him go."
When Soap sees you straining against your binds, trying to reach him, his heart clenches. He lets out a stream of expletives and throws his body weight against the mercs trying to hold him down.
"You care for him that much? Then again, I guess you don't have a choice."
"Horangi—"
“Yes, yes. Relax,” Horangi says to you, keeping his rifle trained on Soap. “I don’t plan to kill him. But we're not uncuffing him. Because we're not fucking idiots," he mutters. He steps off Soap and nods toward the back of the lounge where the bar and kitchen are. "Put him in the walk-in."
The mercs pull him roughly to his feet, jerking his arms behind his back. His gaze flicks to you, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you won't meet his eyes. It's like you're trying to shut him out completely, closing yourself into some emotional void. Just like in that interrogation room. He can’t fucking stand it.
Soap growls in frustration as he's hauled backward. He's torn between anger and desperation, wanting to make you understand how much he needs you. But you're so stubbornly set on building your stupid walls and keeping him out.
"This never would've happened if you'd just let me handle it," he snaps at you. "But you had to go runnin' off by yourself instead of listenin’ to me."
You stare at him in disbelief. He's still arguing this? How headstrong is he? "You're the one who refused to rat me out!” you retort, unable to stop yourself. “I was out the fucking window when you went all heroic and forced me to come back and save your ass!"
Soap's temper flares hotter. "Oh, I'm the one who went all heroic?" He yanks his arm against his captors' grip, but it hardly slows them down. “You’re the bloody martyr, aren’t you? Couldn't just let me handle it. Had to go sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong."
"You with a fucking gun to your head? That was you handling it?"
"I've been in worse situations," Soap shoots back, bristling. "I didn't need your help. And I damn sure don’t want you throwin’ yourself into danger like you've got a death wish."
You swallow. You were right to step in and take the fall for what you did, you realize. As rough-tempered as your soulmate is, he's just trying to protect you. He deserves better than you.
"This is... it's what I deserve," you say finally.
Soap's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression going from anger to shock to cold fury. "What you deserve?" he hisses, his voice low and enraged. "What you deserve is a good smack upside the head. You think you deserved to throw your life away for my sake? That's how little you think of yourself?"
"I betrayed my teammates and ruined our contract. I have to pay for that."
He's so fucking over it. You’re letting yourself be ripped away from him because of—what, a mistake you made? Loyalty to your team? Some misguided sense of penance and responsibility? Empty excuses. None of that should matter. You’re meant to be his.
"I don't give a damn what you think you deserve,” he says. “You're not the one who gets to decide that."
"And you are?"
You're looking at him like you don't believe him. It makes something in him snap loose.
"You still think you're expendable," he says, his voice hard. "As long as everyone else is safe. As long as you've done your bloody duty." He jerks his shoulders, angry and desperate to have you in his sight for a few more seconds. "Whatever you tell yourself, you’d best remember you made your goddamn choice to take what Iwanted most away from me. I swear to you, darlin’, when I get out of these cuffs, I will find you and make sure you never leave my sight again. That’s what I deserve.”
You say nothing. Your heart is in your feet as they wrestle him away.
You’re not worth this. You can't be. You've shown him—all but told him you were ready to abandon him mere minutes ago. He just doesn't care. Regardless of what you think, he keeps deciding you're worth the fucking trouble.
You're just trying to do one thing right by him. One thing. But he has to go and tear your heart in two about it anyway. Bastard.
"Let go of me!" Soap barks, voice echoing behind you as they drag him out of sight.
The sound of the large, industrial steel walk-in freezer banging open echoes through the basement, followed by clattering and Horangi barking orders. Then it slams closed.
That's it, then. The last time you'll see him.
You believe him when he says he'll never stop looking for you. You might be stubborn and set in your ways—he happens to be worse. But you know your employer, and you know what happens to traitors who kill the charges they're paid to protect. Regardless of what seemed right at the time.
You know there are prisons with which the CIA won’t interfere.
You're going to live the rest of your life in a cell. Because of your own damn sense of responsibility for some twisted form of penance for your past.
The moment you hear the lock on the walk-in click, whatever solemn self-assurance you felt turns to ash in your mouth. Penance bears a strong resemblance to empty self-righteousness and self-hatred. Worse—it feels a hell of a lot like you're condemning your stubborn bull of a soulmate to a lifetime of searching for a woman who refuses out of spite to be found.
Horangi and the others return, and the two mercenaries at your sides haul you away. You stumble along with them, numb. They drag you out of the building and push you toward the back of a bulletproof KorTac panel van.
What have you done?
...
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / [part 10] / part 11 / part 12
more Soap / masterlist
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thir10th · 6 months ago
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hi love! i'd like to req emily smut, maybe a little more on the rough side if you'd be comfortable with that, where she gets jealous over reader and shows that through sex
if you want something less vague, it could be when reader brings emily lunch to her office and morgan keeps flirting with her, leading to some action in emily's office
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I'll be doing these two together cause why not. I hope you don't mind! thanks for requesting, and I hope you liked it!!
jealousy - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader
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summary: see the asks, it's a mix of both, it kind of took a turn, but i hope you still enjoy it! tw: jealousy, a very poor try at dom Emily, fingering, breast play?, idk tws are so hard once you've finished writing🥲, i think that's it lmk if i'm missing smth a/n: no idea if there's a way for me to link both asks here, someone lmk if there is
It's only 8.00 am when you enter the police station, two bodies in the past 12 hours required the early hours, everyone had to be focused, your mind had to be only in one place. However, this wasn't the case for all the people on that room.
The local police officer at the head of the case had some other things in his mind.
He starts by boldly checking you out, looks at you up and down, stopping and staring at the short tank top you were wearing, which makes you uncomfortable enough to cover yourself with your arms as much as you can.
The look your girlfriend sends to him doesn't go unnoticed to you, you start to believe she will set him on fire just with her stare, she places herself covering your body to shake his hand, which she gripes a bit too harder than the usual.
If you didn't know her any better, you would say she is jealous.
But there was just no way, right? Emily Prentiss doesn't get jealous, she's too confident for that, she has you so well wrapped around her finger, she doesn't need to be jealous. Right?
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
"so you think this... unsub like you call him, could be on a killing spree because of his mother?" the agent asks you, staring at the last picture you just sticked to the board with a puzzled look.
"we're positive, we've seen this modus before, it's a clear pattern" you explain
"ugh, so talking about mommy issues" you can't help the little snicker that scapes your lips.
He looks triumphant, fully believes he's got you under his spell. He couldn't be more wrong.
The familiar hand that slides behind you on your lower back makes you jump, Emily comes around you, standing closer than she usually does.
"hey, what were you talking about?" she asks, tilting her head.
"oh, nothing just the case" you say, unbothered.
"just the case huh?" you turn your head to see how she's staring at him, as he walks away from you both.
"Em? what is it?" you ask suspicoisly.
"nothing, i just don't understand, what could be so funny if you were just talking about the case..." she says sarcastically
"oh my god" you try to keep your voice down, but the excitement is still noticeable "oh my god, Emily, you're jealous!"
"what? What do you mean I'm jealous?" her voice a couple octaves higher, making it so obvious to you she's lying.
"that's not even a real answer!" you say.
"ugh..." she lets out one of those little sounds she always makes when she knows she's been caught, you think it's adorable.
"ok, so maybe... maybe I just... don't like the way he looks at my girlfriend, so sue me!" she tries defending herself, but you couldn't take it seriously for your life, you find it adorable, the slight pink tinting her cheeks, her reassuring hand still resting on your lower back.
"Emily, c'mon, you know i love you" you kiss her cheek, she kisses you back but still doesn't look so convinced.
The thing is, you could not be any less attracted to that man, there was no way in the world you would find his flirting any appealing, but the idea of teasing Emily sounds too exciting.
A little fun never hurt anyone, right?
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
"...hellooo, earth to Prentiss?"
Morgan waves a hand in front of Emily’s face and she’s brought back to reality.
"what?" she asks.
"i said, could you please put your frown away, you're scaring Reid" Spencer doesn't even hear the comment, too focused on the case file to even pay attention to the conversation that was taking place right beside him.
"my frown is just where it has to be, thank you" she says raising an eyebrow at that.
Derek gives a scoff, and Rossi chuckles at the whole stupidity of the situation. “If y/n can’t feel your stare burning a hole in her back, when she turns and sees you, she’s sure gonna think you're planning a murder.”
"i might just be" she mutters
"I think I know what's going on" Rossi intervenes "she isn't looking at y/n" he explains pointing at you "I think someone might be jealous"
You are only a few feet away, discussing your last findings with the detective, trying to laugh at every little thing he says, making sure Emily is watching.
"I'm not jealous" she defends "she is so clearly not interested, but what if she needs me to step in?" her attempt to make up a good excuse isn't good enough for any of them to buy it
"if that helps you, but all i can hear is jealousy" a big, cocky smile spread on Morgan's face, it's only making her angrier
"c'mon, or we will too have to face the consequences of the territorial monster of jealousy when it explodes" Rossi says, dragging Morgan away
"yeah, mark your territory" Morgan laughs, while Emily gives him the finger "go get her lover!"
It's your loud chuckle that draws the line for her. When you finally get away from the persistent officer, you turn to see Emily isn't there anymore, taking your phone you see 2 new message from her.
From Em💕: you better knock your shit off baby.
From Em💕: That's it. You're so in for it later.
That one makes your heart throb, it shortly makes you wonder if you had taken it too far. This was not gonna end well for you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Hotch decides to call it for the day, sending you off to start fresh in the morning, when a male voice you had heard enough already, calls your name
"Agent, I was wondering if you would be in for a drink with me?" he asks, eyeing you up and down yet again.
You are so sure you would find it just as disgusting if you weren't so gay, and so in love with your girlfriend.
"oh, sorry but no, actually, I-" a much more familiar female voice interrupts you "she's with me" Emily says.
He can't believe his eyes, Emily wraps her arm around your waist pulling you close to her body "hi babe" she says, kissing your lips, you return the kiss, a bit amused at her jealousy, but loving the possessiveness she was showing.
"Sorry, you were saying?" she asks, the man still open-mouthed, he can't bring himself to even speak.
"nothing... ugh, good night, agents" he dismisses you, and walks away defeated.
Emily and you head out of the bullpen, her arm still securely wrapped around your waist, she slides her hand on your back pocket, grabbing a handful of your ass possessively, making you chuckle.
"wanna talk about it?" you ask her innocently
"oh we are gonna be doing a bit more than talking you and me"
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Emily doesn't even leave time for the door to close, and you have a split second to register your thoughts before she closes the door and walks over in one long stride and slams you into the wall.
Her mouth attacks yours in a hungry, desperate kiss, her tongue invading in a fight for dominance, that you just let her win, she is determined to have her way with you, and you aren't going to stop her.
She wasted no time in getting her hands on you, roughly rubbing her hands over your exposed skin. You, however, delicately placed your arms around her neck and when you both pulled apart to breathe.
"what's wrong, Em?" you ask her, breathlessly
"you know what? For starters, I didn't like the way he was looking at you" she starts, her breath warm against your skin, she lowers her head getting your neck, kissing it so sweetly you feel you could melt
she is quick to find your pulse point, mouth-opened kisses all over your skin, she nips all over your spot, which makes you moan
"but then imagine my surprise when i saw you, flirting back" her hand finds her way underneath your shirt, reaching for your breast, she finds no more resistance as you aren't wearing a bra, your other nipple peaking through your shirt in excitement.
She uses her free hand to grip your ass, you jump at the feeling whimpering on her mouth, her closeness only making you more excited.
"but you don't like him, do you, baby?" she asks, teasing you, she leaves a soft kiss on your lips
"he wouldn't stand a chance, we both know men aren't really your type" Emily says lowly, nipping at the tender spot behind your ear. 
She slips her leg between yours, a soft moan escapes your lips.
"so you just wanted to make me jealous" you're too deep in her dominance to even register anything, letting out soft whimpers every time her thumb brushes against the nub and grips the soft skin of your breast
"god... Emily" you let out, as Emily pulls your thighs apart with her hand.
"you know, baby, if you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked" she attacks your neck again, sucking hard enough to leave purple marks you couldn't care any less about now.
Emily presses her fingertips against the crotch of your jeans "your clothes. Take them off or I'll rip them off" she commands, taking a step back from you, leaving too little space to maneuver.
You knew better than to tease her when she was like this. A shiver of excitement runs through your back, and you comply.
You take your jeans off then, your shirt, quickly throwing them somewhere far on the room.
You move to kiss her again, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in for a kiss, but she doesn't let you, instead she grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up.
You wrap your legs around her waist, she carries you to bed, laying you down just harshly enough to make you even more excited for whats to come.
"you are gonna do exactly what i ask you to tonigh, you know why, baby?" you hold your breath, you're not sure if she actually wants you to answer, but you try nonetheless "because I'm yours"
Your answer seems to satisfy her, as she begins kissing her way down your body, taking special care to nip at your collarbone and stomach to leave more marks than the one's on your neck.
The soft cloth of her shirt rubs against your skin and as if just now realising she was still dressed, you grab the hem of her shirt and help her take it off, throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of the room, like you had done with your own clothes.
And not a moment later, she is back to kissing your body, stopping suddenly when she reached the hemline of your underwear.
Her hand navigates down them, she dips low enough to collect your arousal on her fingertips before rubbing your clit forcefully. Your body reacts immediately, curling forward. "Em!" you moan
"what's wrong baby? Cat got your tongue? use your words, if you want me to stop the teasing, just say it"
"fuck...Em, please, I'm yours, please Emily, yours" you confirm, closing your eyes and letting your hips rock against her hand.
“Who are you this wet for?” Emily demands, nipping at your earlobe.
"just you" you whimper, desperation starting to build in your lower stomach
"that's right baby" the cocky smile on her lips makes your eyes roll. You obviously loved slow, romantic love making with your grilfriend, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love this side of her just as much.
She continued to move her fingers inside of you and you met each thrust but you almost fell apart when she pressed her thumb against your clit and rubbed hard.
She uses her free hand to play with your breast, you let out a gasp when her tongue moves over it spurred you on and she begins to gently suck on it while her hand still caressed your other breast. 
You melt into the mattress at her words. "let go, c'mon baby, I got you" you cum on the spot, as she fucks you through your orgasm, she let's you ride your high.
Emily lays down beside you as you come down from the climax, she kisses your lips softly, lovingly this time, less urgent.
"you know i didn't mean any of it right? I was just playing with you, i love you. He didn't stand a chance" you try to clarify
"yes baby, i know, i love you too, i wasn't so harsh with you right?" she asks concerned. Sometimes you can't believe how Emily's mood changes so fast, from all dominating, incredibly sexy, to concerned, soft girlfriend.
"Em, it was perfect" you say, grabbing her face and pecking her lips "you are perfect" you kiss her again.
"well, good, because we're just getting started, i'm not sure you've learned your lesson yet" she grins.
"Like i said, I'm all yours, agent Prentiss" she sits to straddle you, and you grab her face to pull her in for another kiss.
Emily caresses your neck with her thumb, looking at the purple marks she had previously left "this will be hard to cover tomorrow"
"who says I'm covering them?"
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Sitting on your usual spot on the plane, you lay behind Emily's amr, resting your head on her shoulder as she reads.
You aren't oblivious of the look on Morgan's face, right in front of you.
The shirt you chose had your neck and cleavage all on display, small and big purple marks cover your skin.
He stares bluntly at you, a cheeky smile covering his face "So y/n, looks like you and Prentiss had yourselves a good night. Care to share?"
Emily gives him the finger.
"in your dreams" you say.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
wow! a lot longer than i expected it to be! finishing this one gave me a headache so please like and reblog if you liked it, and as always feedback is greatly appreciated! <333 reqs still open as always!
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drvscarlett · 7 months ago
Text
The Tortured Drivers' Department
— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged
Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece
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Fortnight
— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)
The Tortured Poets Department 
— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)
My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 
— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)
Down Bad
— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)
So Long, London
— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)
But Daddy I Love Him
— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)
Fresh Out the Slammer
— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)
Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine) 
—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)
Guilty as Sin?
—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)
Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?
— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)
I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)
loml
— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)
I Can Do It With a Broken Heart 
— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)
The Alchemy
—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)
Clara Bow
— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)
The Black Dog
— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader
imgonnagetyouback
— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)
The Albatross
— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)
Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus
—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)
How Did It End?
— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)
So High School
—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)
I Hate It Here
—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)
thanK you aIMee
— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)
I Look in People’s Windows
—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)
The Prophecy
—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)
Cassandra
—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)
Peter
— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)
The Bolter
— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)
Robin
— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)
The Manuscript
—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)
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