#PISTOL squat sorry

[doctormage]

I just want to know why zero of the medical professionals I saw abt my broken ankle warned me that there’s a chance my appetite could be increased after & not just due to stress. I was worried abt something being wrong w me for WEEKS before I finally googled it and found precisely two (2) old forum threads abt how it’s normal to be hungrier after an injury bc your body is working to heal itself (which makes sense when u think abt it). in other news I wish I��d kept a tally of how many packs of fig newtons I have demolished in the last month

[the-froschamethyst4]

Combat Woods

𖤐Pairing: Soap x Rookie! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, heavy language, slight piss kink, P in V, fingering, squirting, eating out, female masturation, kissing/making out, groping,

𖤐Summary: During a mission with her Sargent Soap, she needed to use the restroom, but he thinks she's taking to long and tries to see what's taking her so long

————

————

She walks around with her Sargent. Sargent John Soap McTavish. They had a to secure the perimeter, but Y/n had a little feeling in her.

She started to walk funny, Soap finally turns to his rookie seeing her walking funny.

"What's wrong with you?" Soap asked, looking down at her.

"S-Sorry sir, I have to pee," she tells him.

"Pee? Pee where?" He asked, they looked around and there was were woods, nothing but trees.

"I can use the woods. I've used the woods as a bathroom before, I think you forget I did bootcamp, I'm not afraid of using the bathroom in the woods," she tells him.

"Right, make it fast," he says as she puts her pistol back into her holder and starts moving away from Soap and heading into the woods. "DON'T GET LOST!" He yells at her.

She walks deep into the woods and found a spot under a tall tree, she unbuckles her pants and pulls them down to her ankles along with her panties. She squats down relieving himself, she lets out a satisfied moan, once she was done, she had a thought. Since she's started to join the Military, her personal sexual needs were placed on hold.

She leans back against the tree, her hand moving down between her thighs, she moans when touching her wet folds, she shouldn't be touching herself after she peed, but she felt horny right now.

She starts to strip from her heavy jacket and pulling the end of her dark green shirt into her mouth muffling her moans, as her fingers were moving a bit faster but they weren't quite long enough to hit her spot, but she still felt good.

Soap stayed put were he was when Y/n had left to use the bathroom, he tapped his trigger patiently thinking about where the hell Y/n was and why was she taking so long?

"Did she poop too?" He asked himself, but shook his head, even if she did it's none of his business. But he was slightly worried, what if someone got her and no one knows.

He put his gun away and heads into the woods where Y/n went. Soap looks around even up in the trees just in case, no signs of Y/n. But he could hear something, whimpering and soft moaning.

"You better be wrapping up-" Soap pushed the bushes back seeing Y/n on her stomach ass in the air shirt scrunched at her shoulders exposing her breasts, and fingers stuck inside of her lower half.

"Sargent," she buried her face into the ground, embarrassed.

"You...disappeared to...touch yourself," he says, leaning against a tree.

"I did have to pee," she sits up, covering her lower half with her shirt embarrassed.

"Did you finish?"

"My pee? I did-"

"No...I meant...touching yourself, did you finish?"

"Oh...no...it...takes me a while, my fingers can't reach my spot," she tells him, hiding her face away.

Soap walks closer to her, she looks up at him, he was messing with his belt, pulling his pants off and removing his vest and shirt. He pulls her legs making her touch his crotch.

"You looked so cute trying to touch yourself, but you looked miserable when trying to finish yourself," he chuckles, leaning down kissing her neck.

"I-I-"

"Shhh~ don't talk...let me help you," he says, kissing her lips, cupping her face, his tip just barely grazing her wet folds, she moans into the kiss and he smirks thinking she sounded so cute.

Y/n moved from his lips, but he still kept kissing her neck and chin, he pumps himself a few times before slowly pushing himself inside of her, he was slow to where she didn't notice till he started to move a bit slow.

She threw her head back, moaning softly. She looks into his eyes, and then placed her head back.

"Fuck, go slow."

"I will, I'll go slow just for you...let me know when you want me to go faster," he teased. Kissing her chin again.

Her hands went around his neck, pulling him closer his hands went up her shirt squeezing her breasts, they fitted perfectly into his hands as he squeezed them, gently pinched her nipples, she softly moans and his kissed her lips, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

She sucks on his tongue, earning some groans from him. He smirks and watched her eyes roll and he pulls away from the kiss.

"G-Go faster," she asked him and he picks up the pace just a bit more.

She moans and then felt the same feeling in her lower area, she was going to pee again.

"I-I have t-to pee," she warns him.

"Go ahead," he stays at the same speed, watching her moans, and she tightens around his dick, she moans and felt herself about to pee, which didn't take long.

Soap stops feeling something hot and wet surrounding his dick and lower stomach. He looks down seeing sprits of...pee.

He pulls out watching her pee rush out of her, she moans and he sees cum mixing into the pee. He smirks and waits for her to be done, she moans and then was finished. He smirks moving down and licking between her folds.

"H-Hey don't...t-that's fucking gross," she moans, gripping his hair.

"I've done worse, mo ghraidh (my love)," he says as he continues to lick between her folds and licking up the dripping cum.

"B-But."

"Shh~" he shushes her and keeps going, then he slips his fingers into her, moving them a bit faster and he was hitting her spot. She moans grabbing his wrist and squeezing around his fingers and tongue.

"S-Sargent-"

"Please, no talking," he says, kissing her inner thigh and earning yet another moan from her.

"T-That doesn't b-bother you?" She moans out.

"What, piss? No, like I said..." he kissed her thigh. "I've done worse, piss doesn't scare me," he says.

He starts to push himself back into her lower half, moving back at that same fast pace from before earning soft moans from her and feeling her tighten around him once more.

"You feel so fucking good," he mumbles into her ear, earning moans and soft mewls.

"Fuck," she curses. Her hands went to his lower stomach feeling his body, he wasn't muscular or anything, but he had that dad bod with a bit of muscles. His ripped arms resting next to her head as he moves a bit faster.

"Come on, cum again," he says as she gives out a breathy moan and ended up coming like he asked.

It was fast but they both enjoyed it.

----------

"Where the bloody hell have you two been?" Ghost asked, once Soap and Y/n came back to the base.

Y/n looks up at Soap a little scared.

"Toilet?" Y/n says, shrugging her shoulders.

"Toilet, what do you mean toilet? There's no bloody toilet out there-"

"She needed to go, that's what took us so long," Soap says.

"Right, get your asses inside now."

[tarabyte3]

I was only supposed to have 1 lifting session with my trainer this week, but he had an opening today last minute and offered it to me (first!!! 🥺 I'm going to get a good grade in personal training, etc) so I flew out the door to get my lower body day in. (What is this. What have I become.)

Joke's on me, though, because I regretted it immediately when he rubbed his hands together and went, "Alright, today's a weight increase on a couple of these!"

Me, standing in the middle of his studio: Actually, I already have a prior engagement so I won't make it after all. Sorry!

Him: Just for that you have 3 sets of pistol squats instead of 2

Me:

(I still kicked ass 😌)

[fakesmilesallaround]

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

ANDREA KNELT OVER HER SISTER, cupping her cheek, blood pooled around her body. Tears trickled down her cheeks and nose, dripping onto Amy.

"Andrea." Willow squatted down beside her, looking at Amy. "I'm so sorry."

Andrea's eyes didn't halter.

"She's gone." Willow said in barely a whisper. "You got to let us take her. I promise we'll be as gentle as we can."

Andrea blinked, but still didn't move or speak. Willow stood up with a soft hand on Andrea's back before walking back to the camp, looking for Dale. Maybe he can talk to her.

Daryl grunted, swinging a pickaxe over his head and plunging it into the head of one of the many walkers that occupied the camp grounds before T-Dog and Glenn helped drag it to a fire.

"She still won't move." Willow crept up beside Dale who had been watching. "She won't even talk to us. She's been there all night." She sat down on a tree stump beside the old man, adjusting Sienna against her body.

"We can't leave Amy like that. We need to deal with it." Shane spoke up, sitting on the other side of Dale.

"I'll tell her how it is." Rick looked at his feet before moving over to Andrea's side.

"Maybe Dale should talk to her?" Willow glanced up at Dale and Rick, squinting against the sun, but they didn't consider her opinion.

"Andrea." Rick began to crouch down beside her, but stumbled back a bit as Andrea cocked her pistol and aimed it at his face.

"I know how the safety works."

"All right." Rick nodded, slowly backing away. "Okay. I'm sorry."

She kept her gun pointed at him until he was at a better distance from her, Lori squirming on her log, eyeing Andrea and Rick.

"Y'all can't be serious."

The group turned their heads at Daryl walking up from the tents. "Let that girl hamstring us? The dead girl's a time bomb." He flung his arm in Amy's direction.

"What do you suggest?" Rick asked, head tilted, rubbing the stubble on his chin.

Daryl stepped up to Rick. "Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No." Willow's voice was harsh. "For God's sakes, let her be."

Daryl's eyes burned into her before he scoffed and walked away, holding the pickaxe over one shoulder. "Wake up Jimbo, we got some work to do."

Willow watched as Daryl and Morales started dragging a body towards the fire, but noticed it was one of their own people and not the dead.

"What are you doing, that's one of our people?" Glenn rushed over from the fire to Daryl.

"What's the difference, they all are infected." Daryl continued to drag the limp body.

"Our people go in that row over there." Glenn pointed at the line of bodies that laid against the grass. "We don't burn them!" He cried out, Willow shooting up from the tree stump. "We bury them. Understand?"

She walked over, placing a hand on Glenn's arm. "Come on." She gently pulled at him to remove him from the two men who finally started dragging the body of the man to the other line.

"You reap what you sow!" Daryl called out to their backs, Willow turning around, flipping him off.

Willow walked beside Glenn as they were going to sit down, hoping to comfort him from the losses, but they both overheard Jacqui.

"Are you bleeding?" She spoke up to Jim.

Glenn and Willow looked at the man, a blood stain in the center of his abdomen.

"I just got some on me from the bodies." He sighed, bending over to start dragging a body.

"That blood's fresh, Jim." Willow spoke out, walking over to him now. "Were you bit?"

"No." Jim responded harshly.

Willow narrowed her eyes. She'd be damned to have someone as reckless as him walking around with a bite, endangering her daughter. "Then show me." She was only inches away from him now as he grabbed her wrist, whispering to her.

"Don't tell them, please."

But Jacqui overheard.

"A walker got him. A walker bit Jim!" She stood up frantically, yelling out to the group.

Jim began to stumble backwards as the group surrounded him. "I'm okay. I'm okay."

"Show it to us." Daryl beckoned. "Now!"

Jim took one more step backwards before picking up a shovel, spinning around, nearly hitting Willow and her daughter.

"Grab him!" Daryl yelled out to the closest people.

T-Dog and Willow moved forward swiftly, both of them taking one of his arms into their grasps. Daryl stomped forward, jerking up the man's shirt. Just as they thought, a deep imprint of teeth was set on his abdomen, fresh blood pooling at the impalement and trickling down his stomach.

Rick directed T-Dog and Willow to sit him down at the back of the RV as the group gathered to speak about what to do with him. Daryl being the first to answer.

"I say we put a pickaxe in his head. And the dead girl's to be done with it."

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane side eyed Daryl, leaning against a stump.

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it."

The group went quiet before Willow spoke out.

"I hate to say it, and I never thought I would, but maybe Daryl's right." She earned a look of disappointment from Rick.

"Jim's not a monster or some rabid dog."

"I'm not suggesting that-" Rick cut her off.

"He's a sick, sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

Daryl stepped up beside Willow. "The line's pretty clear. Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be."

"I'm not having my daughter live around two people who are about to start walking again." Willow shook her head.

"What if we can get him help?" Rick glanced around at everyone. "I heard the CDC was working on a cure."

Willow scoffed. "I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell."

"What if the CDC is still up and running?"

"Come on Rick. That's a stretch right there." She rocked Sienna in her arms, holding her a bit tighter than usual.

"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the CDC at all costs wouldn't they? I think it's out best shot- shelter, protection."

Willow looked down towards a small branch that rested at her feet, not feeling like arguing with the man again. Shane decided to do that for her.

"Okay, Rick. You want those things, alright? I do too, okay? Now if they exist, they're at the army base. Fort Benning."

Lori shook her head. "That's 100 miles in the opposite direction."

"That's right, but it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there." Shane's eyes were desperate for people to listen to him and be on board with his Fort Benning plan.

"The military were on the front lines of this thing. They've got overrun. We've all seen that. The CDC is our best choice and Jim's only chance!" Rick pleaded the group.

"You go lookin' for aspirin, do what you need to do. Someone needs to have some balls and take care of this damn problem!" Daryl yelled, rushing towards Jim with his pickaxe in the air, Rick swiftly unholstering his gun and pointing it at his head.

"Rick!" Willow bellowed, standing next to him.

"We don't kill the living." His eyes were heavy, staring down the barrel at the back of Daryl's head.

Lowering his pickaxe, Daryl turned around with a twisted face. "That's funny, comin' from a man who just put a gun to my head."

"We may disagree on some things. Not on this. Put it down." Shane stood in front of Daryl, hands in his pockets just itching for him to make a move. Daryl did as he was told, jamming one end of the pickaxe into the dirt before pushing past Rick. Willow's eyes stayed on Rick as he helped Jim up, taking him to a better spot where people like Daryl wouldn't bother him.

Willow shifted her feet, heading back to her tent as she knew Sienna would be getting hungry in a bit, but stopped at a single gunshot. Looking back, she saw Andrea sobbing, holding Amy's head close with the gun in her hand.

-

At early sunrise, the group loaded up their belongings in every vehicle they had, readying for departure for the CDC. Morales and his family decided to head in their own direction to Birmingham to find their people, leaving us a couple people and a gun short.

Willow walked around the vehicles, looking for a good one to ride along in. Jim had occupied the RV with Jacqui, and she didn't want to risk being in there with Sienna. Jim was a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off.

"You're ridin' with me."

Willow turned, looking at Daryl who had his head out a crappy pickup truck's window. She looked around, desperate to find someone else to ride with, but most of the vehicles were full of people or bags.

She sighed in defeat. "You going to crash and kill us?" She trekked over to the truck.

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Just get in." He cranked up the truck, a slight sputtering coming from the hood until it started to rev.

They followed the RV for about 2 hours before coming to a stop along a highway.

"Stay here." Daryl glanced over at her from the driver seat, hopping out and holding his crossbow. She peeked out her window, looking ahead at some of the cars that were in front of them, seeing Jacqui exiting the RV in a rush, ushering Rick to come inside. The others stood around the outside of the RV, heads low, Lori hugging Carl and Carol holding Sophia's hand. It wasn't long until she saw Rick and Shane, helping Jim out of the RV and against a tree.

She stepped out of the truck, approaching the rest of them who watched as Jim panted with parted lips, looking up through the leaves of the tree he sat under.

"I told you to stay in the truck." Daryl shot over at Willow.

"It's fine." She shot back.

She walked over to a crying Jacqui, embracing her in a side hug as they both watched Rick and Shane adjust Jim comfortably. Jacqui removed herself from Willows arms, leaning down to Jim beneath the tree. "Just close your eyes, sweetie. Don't fight." She cupped the man's cheek, giving him a soft kiss on it before backing away and wiping her own cheek, returning to Willows arms.

"Jim," Rick knelt beside him, holding a revolver out. "do you want this?"

"No." Jim said quickly. "You'll need it. I'm okay."

Rick patted his shoulder before standing up again, letting Dale be by the man's side now.

"Thanks for uh," Dale removed his hat, twisting it in his hands. "Thanks for fighting for us."

Jim nodded weakly, taking in a sharp breath, sweating beading at his forehead. Glenn, not too far ahead of Willow, sniffled, his head hanging. She reached out and gave his hand a small squeeze, as if to tell him everything is okay, and he returned the gesture, squeezing her hand back.

Willow looked to Jacqui, holding Sienna out for her to hold. She walked over to Jim's side and knelt down.

"I'm sorry for the shovel." He said through his rough, dry lips.

She shook her head. "Don't apologize. You were scared."

He gave her a weak smile.

"Don't be afraid anymore." She rubbed her thumb along the back of his hand gently. "You've got a family to get to."

Though she didn't know the man well, it broke her heart to see another one of their people slipping through the cracks. A tear dripped down her cheek, catching in the crease of the small smile she had left to offer him.

She caught up to the rest of the group who dragged their feet back to their vehicles, Jacqui handing Sienna back to Willow before she went back to the spot in the RV that she sat in to tend Jim. As they drove away, they all looked out to Jim who sat patiently under the tree, staring up at the rays of sun that parted through the branches.

-

Word count: 2,034

[bigkissbutch]

A woman stands in the doorway. A hazy vision from across the room, you can barely make out her shape at first; tall, broad, slender. You try to ask her how you got here, who she is, why she’s doing this; a panic rises in your throat with each word that escapes your lips. She waits for you to tire yourself as she scans the details of the room.

After a minute of silence, she speaks.

“Do you like your room, darling?”

Her voice is gentle and raspy.

“I set it up just the same as yours previous. I thought it might help you adjust.”

She steps towards you, and into the light cast by the tableau of sky above. She’s wearing a shirt whose buttons ever so slightly glint and twinkle at you in the moonlight. Her gaze is studying and impersonal as she squats down just out of your reach. You plead and beg and she waits again for silence. However, this time you do not give it to her.

You scream. You beg. You do not like it, it isn’t what you want, you want to leave.

She just watches your tantrum, almost confused. Eventually, she stands and leaves, and you are left back alone.

You notice her attention to detail. A blanket like mom made for you. A photo of you and an ex up on the wall in a hand-painted frame they made.

Time passes. You’re hoarse, and tired. Your eyes glaze over yet again.

Click

The latch again. She returns with a plate of food.

The smell fills the room. As much as you might hate to admit it, it’s delicious. She brings it just within your reach. You eat with vigour, and as you do, she reaches out and touches your hair.

You swat at her this time, and she deftly slides the meal away from you.

“Now darling, I know this transition is hard, but I think it’ll be better for both of us if you learn to cooperate.”

You go back to screaming. She takes your plate and leaves.

Click

After a while in the stillness, you pass out.

When you wake, she is lying next to you, and her lips are almost touching yours. She smells of cigarettes and cologne. You pull away with a start. She looks hurt.

“Please, I’m just trying to give you something better than you had out there, just let me.” Her tone is almost pleading, cracks forming in her demeanour. You back away from her as far as your chain will allow, and cry at her. Your mind is hazy, sleep-deprived and starved. You manage out that she will never give you anything better than freedom, and she should just let you go. She slinks out again.

You don’t see her again for two weeks, just plates of food slid through a slot in the door. Each one has a note from her, asking if you’ll just love her back. You are unrelenting in your refusal. You tear up every one.

When she finally returns, it’s different. There’s a fumble at the latch before it

Click

opens. Her usually composed outfit and demeanour is traded for a wife beater and boxers that reveal a scrawny frame. In her hand, a pistol. As she steps into the light, her face is red and tear-streaked; her composure was just as fake as the moon above her.

She points the gun in her hand towards the bed, and sobs to you.

“I thought you’d be different, I really did. Or maybe I thought I could be? I tried so hard this time. I did everything right.”

You scream. She points the gun towards the photo in the hand-made frame.

“Am I not enough?”

BANG.

The gunshot is loud. Glass scatters the floor. Your ears ring.

You begin to plead. It barely registers. She wraps herself in the blanket like mom made.

She points the gun towards the sky, the moon.

“I swear, I’ll do better next time. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for us.”

You can barely hear her.

BANG.

The room is plunged into darkness. You can barely see. You can barely here the sounds of her approach.

You feel her hand grip your wrist and the barrel of the gun press into your chest. She looms over you. You can’t make out words through the ringing in your ears. You’re apologizing now, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

The gun is pointed up into your jaw.

She leans in for a kiss. You taste the salt of her tears on her lips, look at the perfect, awful clarity in her eyes, and hear her sob out an apology.

And then, you hear nothing at all.

This is, I suppose you might say, a writing prompt. It's also an experiment, and an open invitation to anyone who would like to write and perhaps have me write back.

~

The fur lined steel cuff is custom fit, neither so tight that it cuts and bruises nor so loose that it shifts and chaifs. The chain is almost insultingly thin, it invites the misconception that it might be broken. The thick bolts that secures it to the concrete wall suggest otherwise.

The roof twinkles in a reasonable faxcimile of a clear night sky. The fake moon, hanging several meters above the floor, illuminates an enormous bed that dominates the room. The plump pillows are perfectly placed upon the luxiourious looking blankets. There is a palpable air of care. The creation of this room was an act of love, or perhaps misplaced devotion.

The perfection is almost eerie, each item entirely untouched, the blankets unruffled, the draws unoppened. And much like the eyes of the plush toys strategically scattered about the room the only occupant stares blankly at the wall. Unmoving, crosslegged, cuffed by the ankle. Until

*click*

The latch on the door

Eyes fly wide. A breath sharply inhaled.

The door opens

[swinging-from-my-cable]

your post with the sentence "and i kinda sorta have it worse because i'm on crutches i don't get the advantage of any kind of rolling" shows up right in the wheelchair tag on tumblr (i know you didn't tag it like that and i'm not saying you meant to i'm just trying to warn you) and i super understand the frustration with disability access but please be mindful of saying that sort of generalized thing when it can go right into the tag for something like that. i don't think it was meant maliciously at all and you should totally vent it out i'm really just trying to warn you how it's showing online to random wheelchair user passersby. i'm sorry your day was frustrating getting around and i hope your area gets better accessibility and that gundam is good

My blog, my posts, my opinions. I didn't tag it with anything even remotely relevant, so this is tumblr's fault, not mine. Take it up with them, not me. If someone hates me, they can debate off anon or, far more easily, just block me.

And yes, being on crutches is, in its own way, more difficult to get around. You're slower, just like you are with a cane. It's exhausting. Your weight is constantly in muscles it's not supposed to be in. I've hung out with folks in a wheelchair, not while I was on crutches, and yes, wheelchairs are hell to deal with. This building only has a ramp on the far side. The sidewalks only have cuts in the most inconvenient places. The lecture halls only have steps, so you're stuck in the back. You can't see the food in the cafeteria. You're in a bind during a tornado warning on the third floor of the building. Half or more of the time, you need a specialty chair but insurance sure won't pay for it.

But anyone who has any ability to use a rolling aid has the advantage of not being this slow (I was recommended a knee scooter, which would be way faster, but I basically can't go anywhere anyway), and not being totally off balance to the point of nearly falling over whenever they have to shift directions or certain positions. Their weight isn't being continually forced into their forearms and one leg. And I have strong arms and a decent pistol squat. Someone with a wheelchair doesn't have to go pick up meds at the pharmacy and hope the store has charged the cart. Sure, I can get up stairs sometimes, and I can go to the toilet without as much difficulty. Crutches have TONS of advantages over other situations. But I can't carry a popcorn bucket back to the theater. Everything is effectively three times as far for me, and I can't take advantage of momentum to keep moving. I can't ask someone to help move me unless they are willing to carry me the whole way.

Thanks for being respectful, but if someone in a wheelchair is offended by the fact that crutches are, in their own way, harder to use for the period we have to use them, I hope they can someday walk briefly enough to experience this unique hell.

[slootpoot]

Longhorn - Chapter Five

05 | Greywater Longhorn Masterlist

You’re sulking toward the wall of the sewer, refusing to touch it and refusing to look at the greywater beneath you. 

“I bet this runs to Zach’s place, too,” Sam says. 

“Nasty freak is using this vile place to move around,” you complain, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

“Look at this.” Dean bends down, staring at a mushy, gooey pile of a mix of skin at blood. Their faces curl, and Dean hears you audibly gag. 

“Oh my God, I’m crawling out of the Arch window. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m quitting my job.” 

While Dean chuckles, Sam ignores you. “Is this… from his victims?” 

Dean shrugs, flicking out a pocket knife and squatting, using it to pick up a bit of the mush pile. You gag again, and he cringes. 

“Put it down, Dean, oh, God.” 

“What if…” Dean starts, frowning at the lump of skin on his knife. “What if this thing sheds its skin after shifting into someone.” 

“Jesus, someone get me out of here.” 

Dean sighs, shaking his head. He helps you out of the sewer, and you’re all soon standing at the trunk of the Impala. “One thing I learned from Dad?” 

“Silver bullet to the heart, cool. Someone get me some fucking ginger ale and crackers, I’m gonna throw up.” 

Sam’s phone rings, and he closes it as Dean closes the trunk. “This is Sam.” 

It’s on speaker. Dean hears Rebecca through the phone, and watches as you lean closer to nosily hear better. 

“Where are you?” 

“We’re near Zach’s. We’re just… checkin’ some things out.” 

“Well, look, Sam, just stop. I really don’t need your help anymore.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I told the lawyers that we went to the crime scene.” 

Sam scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “Why would you do that?” 

“Well, I told them that we were with a police officer. And they checked it out, and they told me that there is no detective Dean Winchester.”

You visibly wince, giving Dean an awkward look. 

Sam continues. “Bec -” 

“No, Sam, I don’t understand why you would lie about something like that.” 

“Bec, I’m sorry, but -” 

“No. Goodbye, Sam.” 

The call dips with a beep, and Sam sighs, disappointed. 

“I hate to say it,” Dean starts. “But that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. They just - it’d be easier if -” 

“If I was like you.” 

“Hey, man,” Dean groans. His brother has a dejected look on his face, and he can see you gnawing on your lip, itching to end the conversation. “Like it or not, we are not like other people. But I’ll tell you one thing. This whole gig - it ain’t without perks.” 

You clear your throat, handing a gun to Sam before he tucks it in the waist of his jeans. 

“I think we’re close to its lair.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face.” 

Sam turns to see the aforementioned pile goobing off a pipe and jumps back, holding a fist to his mouth. “Oh, God.” 

You grumble, moving over to a pile of slightly-moist clothes in the corner. “Looks like the freak has lived here for a while.” 

“Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away with?” Sam whispers. 

He turns to Dean, eyes wide. “Dean!” 

Dean twists, seeing the same man that got escorted in the police, a sick, twisted smile on his face. “Sam!” 

Before Dean can react, the man’s fist collides with his face and Dean crumbles to the ground. 

Sam is quick to push you behind him, pistol in hand. The shifter is sprinting down the sewer drain and Sam lets a few bullets fly, but never once does he hit. 

“Get the son of the bitch!” Dean hollers. 

Dean is the first out of the manhole, pistol raised and ready. When it’s clear, you follow, Sam behind you. 

“Can’t see him,” Dean says. 

Sam nods. “Let’s split up.” 

You start walking away, unholstering the pistol on your hip and holding it with two hands. Dean hesitates, but starts walking down the alley opposite of yours. He doesn’t find anything in the alley, or on the street for that matter. 

He finally runs back into Sam on one of the street corners. People give them odd glances, but they merely keep walking. “Anything?” 

“No,” Sam sighs. “He’s gone.” 

They head toward the Impala, but Dean pauses before opening the door. “Think he found another way underground?” 

“Yeah, probably.” Sam tosses the Dean the keys, but freezes after. “Hey, where’s Y/N.”

Dean freezes, looking around frantically. He sees no sign of you; not your bobbed black hair or your trademark red lipstick. “Fuck, Sam.” 

Sam eyes his brother suspiciously. “Hey, didn’t Dad face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?” 

Dean scoffs. “What the hell does that have to do with where Y/N went?” 

“There’s gotta be something in his journal, right?” 

Pausing to think, Dean shakes his head. “Nah, man, that was Austin. It was a psychic projection though, remember? Turned out not to be a shapeshifter after all.” 

Dean moves to the trunk, popping it open. Sam withdraws his gun, pointing it at his brother. “Don’t. Move.” 

“Dude, chill,” he chuckles. “It’s me, alright?” 

“No, I don’t think so. Where’s Y/N? Where’s my brother?” 

The shapeshifter smirks, lips curling evilly before he swings the crowbar, and Sam’s vision goes black.

[stay-healthy-org]

Mobility Is Not Just About Stretching

Mobility Is Not Just About Stretching - Moving shouldn’t around hurt, at least not always. If you have what is considered a normal range of motion, you should be able to stand up, squat, walk, bend down, and reach over your head without any real effort or pain—and without having to warm up (LOL, sorry that made me giggle – reminded me of a scene from Zombie Land). Kelly Starrett is a Doctor of Physical Therapy co-author of the best-selling movement book, Becoming a Supple Leopard, and the founder of The Ready State, an online movement coaching service and gym in San Francisco. Starrett emphasizes the importance of movement and mobility to avoid pain and stiffness in the body. He discourages traditional static stretching and being ���bendy” and instead prefers to talk about things in terms of mobility and mobilizing. He emphasizes that the body is “robust, tolerant, and anti-fragile,” and that the resting state of the human being is pain-free. However, the body has a “use-it-or-lose-it” policy. For example, if someone sits at a desk for hours each day, their hip flexors, hamstrings, and joints will stiffen, potentially leading to back or knee pain and trouble walking. Starrett explains that if someone doesn’t use their body in specific ways, they can lose the ability to do so. Too much typing or other computer use can impact the entire upper body.

Mobility Is Not Just About Stretching

Starrett breaks down the normal human range of motion into seven basic shapes: four shoulder shapes (arms straight overhead, straight out in front, tucked by the side of your body as if you’re about to do a press up, and by the side of your body with your elbows pulled high), and three hip shapes (a deep squat, a deep lunge, and a deep pistol squat). Every human movement is performed using some combination of these upper and lower body shapes.

Mobility Is Not Just About Stretching

If someone is struggling with everyday movements, these shapes should be considered pointers to the things that need work. If reaching overhead isn’t comfortable, they should spend time working on their shoulders. If they can’t reach down to the floor, they can target their hamstrings. When someone’s lower back or hips feel tight, the best thing they can do is spend ten minutes doing a couch stretch on each leg while watching TV.

This is NOT a couch stretch....

...more like THIS woman stretching while watching TV. Starrett believes that the body should be able to do the things someone wants it to do when they want to do them, whatever they happen to be. People shouldn’t have to warm up for two hours to go to the gym or play with their kids.

Pain Is Information

"Doctor, doctor, it hurts when I do this", Doctor: "Well, STOP doing that!" One of the most important things to know is that the body is fully interconnected. If someone has back pain, the problem might be in their back, but it could also be above or below. The back is a system that’s connected to the hips, so if someone is talking about back pain but not talking about how their hips move, they’re not actually talking about the back, they’re talking about 50% of the system. You remember the old children's song, The hip bone's connected to the back bone The back bone's connected to the neck bone, The neck bone's connected to the head bone, Now shake dem skeleton bones! ANYway.... The same is true for a lot of other problem areas. If someone’s neck is stiff, they also need to look at their shoulders, upper back, and ribs. If they’re having issues when they bend their knee, the problem could be in their calf or thigh muscles. People should not focus on one area but instead work everything around it. Pain is the body’s way of telling someone that something is up. The sensation can come from an injury or physical impairment, but it can also result from tissue stiffness, not moving enough, or sitting weirdly. People shouldn’t be walking around sore every day. Working in an office shouldn’t leave someone hurting. If it does, it’s a sign that they need to address something. They should locate the problem, figure out what system it’s a part of, and find an exercise that will help. People don’t need to leave home and dedicate their lives to yoga to start working on mobility. They can incorporate these movements into their everyday life. Starrett advises to stand up every 20 minutes if someone is sitting for a long period of time. They can do a couch stretch while watching TV. They can squat down when picking something up off the floor. That means simply moving more. “We suggest 10,000 steps as the first level, but some day you’ll only get 6,000 and some days you’ll get 15,000.” Just moving and using your body more, rather than staying seated at a desk or in front of a TV, is enough to mitigate a huge number of problems. If you aren’t getting up and wandering around every so often, start doing it now. Starrett also recommends people mobilize for 10 minutes before bed. This can be as simple as getting down in a deep squat or lying on your back and stretching out, or you can take a more active approach and use a tool like a lacrosse ball or foam roller to work over any areas that are giving you trouble. Your muscles shouldn’t hurt when you press down on them or stretch them out, and you should be able to breathe comfortably while you work on things, Starrett explains. If you’re lying on a foam roller and you’re in agony, stop—you’re doing something wrong.

Find What Works for You

Starrett is a big ole strong guy. He’s a former elite athlete, runs a CrossFit gym, and throws around heavy weights. If you’re a bit of a meathead, like me (I am a Giverik or a Kettlebeller, BIG bells), his approach might work well for you. But if you find Starrett’s stuff a bit too intense, you can also check out Jill Miller’s Tune Up fitness and Sue Hitzmann’s MELT Method. Both are pretty 'mild' and a great way to increase mobility or maintain your current state of good mobility. Or just go your own way entirely. It’s your body—do what works for you. Steve Maxwell, my fitness guru, often expresses that we need to create our own workouts and fitness routines. Not everyone can, or should, do the same thing.

You’re Not Trying to Win

Moving well and without pain isn’t a game you can win. At no point can you just declare victory and say you’re done; that your knee is totally fixed and you’ll be able to hop, skip, and jump into your 90s. Modern life is always going to throw you curve-balls and you’ll need to adapt. “You’ve just got to continue to play better and feel better,” says Starrett. “This is an infinite game.” How you play is up to you. Read the full article

[honorhearted]

"For feck's sake, give me a moment!"

Caleb had warned him the Brewster-Hallett women were combative during their pregnancies, yet Benjamin still couldn't help but take offense at her volatile snarl.

"In case you didn't realize, we are in the middle of the woods being pursued," he bit back. "We don't have time for 'a moment' of thought! We need to act now, Kitty!"

She sank against the neighboring tree, pressing her forehead into the bark as she drew in several shallow, panicked breaths. He instantly felt contrite and came up to her, pressing a hand to the small of her back.

"I'm sorry," he apologize. "I did not mean to snap, I just..." hate feeling powerless -- useless!

Katherine no longer seemed to be listening. She pointed a trembly finger beyond his shoulder. "That way, there's a hunting cabin up the hillside...It's used as a smuggling safehouse."

"What?" Although he'd heard her perfectly well, he didn't particularly like hearing that the mother of his unborn child knew the ins-and-outs of smuggling. She truly was a Brewster...

Katherine winced, pressing an appeasing hand to her swollen middle. "There will be supplies...a-and weapons stashed there..."

Immediately detecting the unspoken distress in her tone, Benjamin nodded and quickly ducked underneath her arm, supporting her as he encouraged her to hobble quickly along the uneven terrain. "This would be much easier if you didn't presently have such a fat arse," he teased, opting for humor to try and dull his panic.

Regardless of his efforts, the trek proved difficult and tiresome. By some stroke of mercy, the cabin finally came into view, and it appeared to be completely uninhabited.

"Thank God," Benjamin breathed.

Once inside, Katherine immediately collapsed and Benjamin grabbed her just as she caught her weight on a nearby table. She lowered down, trembling and getting into a squat.

"What are you doing?" Benjamin asked, concerned. "Are you all right?"

"W-we don't know if they'll be after us," she deflected. "The Patriot battalion might be monopolizing them, but it's no guarantee, especially if they think we're more than who we said we are..."

Benjamin's brow furrowed. "I don't think they'll be as concerned with us as their present distraction, but that Major Blackwood certainly had it out for us..."

"The wardrobe," she said, redirecting his attention. "There should be pistols and ammunition inside."

Catching her meaning, he gave her shoulders an encouraging squeeze, then moved over to inspect the promised arsenal. To his relief, there were five flintlocks, two muskets, and plenty of powder.

"What were you all banking on, an invasion?" Benjamin teased. Slipping two of the flints into his coat, he grabbed a third before asking, "And what about you? Will you truly be all right here while I stand guard?"

A part of him wished for otherwise -- surely, there was a place they could hide underground with this being a smuggling hideout? -- but when he looked back at her, he knew their baby was far more important than comfort.

From the moment her water broke, Benjamin's voice was distant, replaced by her own rising panic, which heated her face and made it increasingly difficult for her to take a full breath.

Enduring a particularly painful contraction, she dug her nails into the bark of the tree she leaned on, gritting her teeth and sitting her eyes tight until it passed.

Calm yourself, she inwardly scolded, lest you become the reason all three of you die here in the middle of the bloody wilderness.

"What should I do?" She heard Benjamin ask, "What do you need me to do?"

"For feck's sake, give me a moment!" She spat, perhaps a little too harshly as she tried her best to think through the discomfort.

Kitty drew in another breath, pressing her forehead to the trunk of the tree as she struggled to think about where they were, what that would look like on a map.

She knew the area. She did. She'd been through here several times during the last several months. It was a part of the smugglers' route to reach patrons without alerting either side to their operations.

Think harder, Kitty. What did Caleb tell you about this place?

Exhaling shakily, she turned her head, looking past Benjamin to assess the trail, lok for familiar markings. Finally, she pointed, her hand trembling.

"That way, there's a hunting cabin up the hillside...It's used as a smuggling safehouse.

Kitty paused again, cradling her belly with one hand, the other still holding her upright against the tree.

"There will be supplies...a-and weapons stashed there..."

The only problem was, she wasn't entirely sure she could make the journey, however short. If she couldn't, they risked being found by any pursuing militia once it was discovered they had escaped.

With another exasperated breath, she pushed herself off the trunk and pulled herself forward.

They had to get there. They had to! She wasn't going to take any chances and wind up losing their child for it.

Over her dead body.

The trek was hard, even with Ben's help, but the rush of adrenaline aided in Kitty's determination to keep walking despite having to continuously pause and ride out every contraction that overwhelmed her.

Then, finally, the cabin came into view. There was no lit lantern in the window, which meant none of her contacts currently resided there.

Once they'd managed to get inside, Kitty's legs nearly gave way from beneath her. Catching her weight on the table, she carefully knelt down into a squatting position.

"Gravity is on your side in this position," her aunt had once told her, "Less fatigue for you and a smoother course for the babe."

Hopefully the old crone had been right.

"W-we don't know if they'll be after us," she winced, "The Patriot battalion might be monopolizing them, but it's no guarantee, especially if they think we're more than who we said we are..."

Damnation. She wanted Ben there beside her, to hold her hand as he attempted to soothe her with sweet words and praise, but they couldn't take any chances. Someone needed to keep watch.

"The wardrobe. There should be pistols and ammunition inside."

[raphsweapondealer]

I made another one 😅

Workout addition:

Sorry. My mind wanders in the morning in my humble little home gym, these are my little headcannons for the boys workout style.

Scenario: Turtles and their significant others working out, the calesthetic exercises/muscle group each turtle likes to watch their S/O do/work.

Mikey:

Basically everyone agrees he's a boob guy

Naturally he loves when you do chest day

You wear a low cut shirt and start doing push ups you'll leave him a drooling mess.

Triangle push ups? Um. Yes please

It's even better since chest exercises make your breast bigger/well shaped

He so loves that and definitely pays attention

But will love you and your boobies no matter what size and shape, of course. Your HIS babes!

If you're staying low and going fast with your push-ups He'll watch then bounce and gawk at you

If you go slow? Oh yeah. He'll watch your muscles flex. Very VERY nice!

Donnie:

Will sneak a peak at you when you do core exercises

Loves watching you do leg raises

Especially when you effortlessly weave your legs up gracefully.

Russian twists? Absolutely.

If you can get your legs up in the air while you do them he especially loves watching your body move!

Same with incline sit up, the curve as you come up.

He tries to be subtle but his brother and you catch him staring a lot. Not that you mind

How can he not? You're gorgous, and you got the perfect amount of sweat built up to compliment/bring out your features!

Wearing a belly shirt while you do this will actually end him

Leo:

Shoulders. Not so much because of the muscle group you're working, he loves the exercises you do

When you start practicing your hand stands he will definitely crane his neck

Dragon push ups.... Oh boy....

When you dip down, and move up, and repeat

He'll be watching your shoulders flex, but stare, well, more center of you When you finish coming up, it tende to flex your pecs.

When you back up He'll watch your ass go up in the air. Make him lick his lips.

He'll be staring so hard Splinter might need to raise his voice a little to get his attention

It's embarrassing. The cool, collected turtle can't help it when it comes to you.

You'll basically be hypnotizing him

He swears you do it on purpose!

LOVES seeing you get better, making progress, and being able to do more.

Raph

Infamous ass guy of the fandom

Naturally loves when you do leg day

Squats specifically

Nice and slow

Oh? You can do Pistol squats/1 legged squats?

He won't even hide the fact he's staring you down. He's shameless the, lug.

Bulgarian jump squats? Very nice, look at how grateful and balanced you've gotten.

More importantly look at how big your ass and legs have gotten?!

Or if you're just starting out? Doesn't make a difference to him. His attention is ALL yours

If he's weight lifting you'll probably notice him lifting more weight than he typically does. You have that effect on him. OR

He might stop his own work out, and not let you finish your workout

Just be prepared for that if you do leg day around him!

[cathedral-spires]

Introducing my GW2 Commanders

Long post with pictures under the cut. I took some liberties with the canon and I’m not sorry.

Ciela Marquis

Class/Specialization: Warrior/Berserker Wields: Greatsword, Mace/Axe

Growing up in Divinity’s Reach orphanage until she was of age, Ciela was no stranger to judgement and the terrible happenings to the world. She learned from a very young age that she could not rely on anyone. She also learned it is better to have thick skin and to have a tough exterior at all times. She watched her peers come and go, learned of awful circumstances that put them there, and grew to be sharp in the world. She was a fierce protector of the young children, and she was not the nicest person to strangers.

When she aged out, she joined the Lunatic Guard and served under Mad King Thorn. She was impressive with her fighting skills and her undying loyalty to the crown. The conflict between Oswald and Edrick became explosive and after some extremely traumatizing events, Ciela sided with Edrick. She swore to serve, protect, and die for the Prince if she had to.

Her unwavering loyalty to Edrick is frightening, and colors her morals as such.

(I consider her my only real “Commander.” Everyone else would not be able to handle the pressure of fighting Elder Dragons and taking down Liches.)

Phytalae

Class/Specialization: Necromancer/Reaper Wields: Greatsword, Axe/Warhorn

After a near-death run in with the Nightmare Court, Phyta started studying necromancy as a way to cope. If one can control death, they cannot be harmed by it. She excelled and made a name for herself with her skills. Necromancy is seen as a dark art, so it did not win her many friends. She left the Grove and joined the fight against Zhaitan and the other elder dragons. She eventually chose to specialize in power and became a Reaper. She looks fierce in her armor and with her large sword. Phyta is sweet and she’s more likely to feed someone rather than cut them down. She enjoys reading, jewelry making, and taking care of her minions.

She began her research on necromancy, Grenth, and funeral rites and culture during her time with the Priory. She made a name for herself with her research on the Awakened and Crystal Desert’s culture around the Dead.

Garret Hawkmaze

Class/Specialization: Thief/Deadeye Wields: Rifle, Sword/Pistol

Garret was the middle child of three boys. His parents ran Hawkmaze Farm. a Queensdale wheat farm that supplied grain to local bakeries and breweries. His farm was destroyed by Bandits. They robbed his family, killed his younger brother and parents, and took him and his older brother. He was about 11 years old at the time. He was a hostage and servant for the bandits for an unknown amount of time. During this period, his older brother was killed by the bandits after he tried to escape. Garret picked up his thieving skills from the bandits; he mostly taught himself. He escaped the bandits and lived on the streets of Destiny’s Reach during his teens.

He did anything he could to survive; Steal, fight, lie. He became a great pickpocket and squatted in abandoned buildings. He enjoyed whiskey, gambling, and cigarettes. He became very good at cheating in cards. He was a familiar face to the guards. He joined the Order of Whispers to get out of jail time. He became a skilled sniper and grew to have a shred of discipline.

He was forced to retire from the Whispers after being blown off a hillside in Drizzlewood. A bomb blew up near him and had severe wounds. He ended up losing his right eye from the incident. He returned to Destiny’s Reach, where he bought a home and adjusted to normal life. He took up raptor racing and is pretty successful. His raptor’s name is Rex and he only has two brain cells.

Garret is still a shit head. He still enjoys whiskey, gambling, and cigarettes. He’s gay as hell too.

[bestfrozenskittles]

Prologue

———————————————————————————— The night air felt warm on the less than sober man as he made his way from the motel room to quiet his car alarm that had randomly began to blare in the middle, he let out a sigh and thought of the booze waiting for him back in the crappy dirty room. He frowned when pressing the unlock button on his keys didn’t work “Stupid piece of shit” he mumbled under his breath and got into the car to manually turn the alarm off. 

Once it was off he let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. The thought of the men that were after him suddenly brought him great stress. The reminder of why he’s drinking so much tonight made him rub his entire face for a moment. When he looked back up he noticed that his rearview mirror was pointed towards him instead of the back window. 

He sighed again and fixed it, the sight of a black masked person made his blood run cold, the eyes of the girl in his back seat were a cold contrast to the hot bullet that left her silenced pistol and entered in between his own. With a click on her radio she began to speak “Crow to Gold Eagle Actual, your target has been eliminated” She slid out of the blood ridden car and put her weapon away before pulling the mouthless balaclava off her head. 

“This is Gold Eagle Actual, wonderful job Crow your pay is in the agreed spot” With that, F.N took her radio off and shoved it in her backpack with the rest of her stuff before walking away from the scene with her head held low. She walked down the empty streets of London before ducking into an alleyway.

F.N squatted down beside a pile of trash and picked up a brown handbag. A quick check of it revealed her money in cash, she closed it and walked out of the alleyway with the bag on her shoulder. The journey home was quiet and long, she looked at the people sitting on the bus alongside her. Hyper aware of the other humans that surrounded her.

Two people sat behind her while one sat in front of her. A child and a mother sat in the seats directly across from her. In total six people were on the first floor of the routemaster. When her stop came F.N stud from her seat and made her way to the exit. The driver bid her a farewell, distracted by the sudden human interaction she stuttered and ran into someone stepping onto the bus.

“Sorry sir” She looked up at the tall man who had a warm welcoming smile on his face “No worries, you’re alright?” The mutton chops combined with a mustache gave him a fatherly or grandfatherly appearance. F.N nodded “Yes..sorry” She mumbled and walked past him. John stepped to the side and watched the young woman walk off before stepping into the bus and taking his seat. 

After showering and eating something her work phone began to ring. The familiar number that belonged to the general with a sigh she picked up “Hello sir” she spoke first into the phone “Crow, I have another job for you, triple your last pay” Shepherd leaned back into his chair as he stared down Graves. “What is it?” Shepherd nodded “I’ll send a car for you, that car will take you to the airport, I’m afraid this isn’t a job I can explain over the phone.” 

“Understood, the usual agreed location will do sir” Shepherd shifted in his seat “See you soon Crow” F.N tossed the phone onto her bed and got dressed again. She picked up her backpack and stepped out of her hotel room to leave the building. It was already late and the last routemaster was on its last route for the night.

F.N managed to catch it and got on. “Didn’t expect to see you so soon” The older woman driving smiled at F.N only to receive an awkward smile and nod. She turned to find a seat in the mostly empty cart save for the familiar man who sat at the very back with his eyes closed. “He fell asleep and missed his stop” F.N whispered to herself before taking her seat behind the driver. 

When her stop came up F.N noticed the black car waiting for her. She got off the bus and walked over to the car, the man in the car quickly drove her to the airport. From there she was off back to America, where another car was waiting. Shepherd and Graves waited for her to show up “Crow, welcome, I’m glad you could make it all the way here on such short notice, this is Philip Graves your new partner if you accept the offer.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Crow, I’ve admired your work so far” The man extended his hand, F.N took a moment before taking his hand and shaking it. “What exactly will you have me be doing general, if I’m having to team up with another mercenary and tripling my last pay it must be more than important” Graves crossed his arms and looked over at Shepherd. “I need you to accompany and help Graves in a drop off of missiles to the Middle East” F.N frowned.

 “I’m sorry general but isn’t smuggling such dangerous weapons illegal?” Graves chuckled “Well I didn’t think a borderline assassin would be above that” Shepherd put a hand up to stop Philip from going any further. “Why exactly is it that you want to smuggle the weapons anyways? Why is the Middle East so in need of them” Shepherd shook his head “That isn’t information I can tell you Crow” F.N huffed. 

“How high are you willing to go with my pay general”

[etdraconis]

As he watched Naela get into the car with her brothers, Jaime sighed softly. Lion whined, coming back to his owner with his ears drooped. He chuckled at the little dog, squatting down to scratch him behind the ears.

"Sorry, little one, but it looks like you'll have to wait a bit longer to get your pets from her," he joked. "Come on now, let's go get ready for the day. We'll see her again tonight."

-- Later that evening --

The day had been long and full of meetings between his classes - most of which could have easily been an email - and by the time Jaime locked up his office for the night, he was exhausted. He glanced at his watch as Lion all but dragged him excitedly and cursed to himself. Naela should already be gone by now; he very rarely missed her leaving campus and always worried when he did. With any luck, she would be with her brothers or at home by now.

Lion happily bounced along beside him as Jaime crossed campus to the staff parking garage, checking his messages. He smiled softly at his brother's messages; Tyrion had texted him with random book recs again, as well as an invitation for dinner. Another text Cersei contained a similar invite. Jaime ignored that one for now; his sister always seemed to have ulterior motives when she invited him over, and he didn't have the energy to deal with that.

He was halfway through his reply to Tyrion when he heard a commotion in one of the nearby parking garages. Jaime frowned as Lion started barking, looking up from his phone. That was when he heard it - a woman crying out. But not just any woman. He would know the sound of that voice anywhere. It lingered in all of his most vivid dreams. Naela.

Quickly tying Lion's leash to a nearby bench, Jaime sprinted toward the sound of the incident to find a group of men trying to kidnap her. Anger rushed through him, his hand going to the pistol holstered to his belt. He wasn't supposed to have it on campus, technically. But considering his role as protector he had managed to get special permission for it. And he would be damned if he wouldn't use it on these fuckers now for touching his girl.

Wait. No... Fuck he couldn't think about that right now.

"Hey! Let her go asshole!" he yelled out as he approached them.

"Who the hell are you? What do you think you'll do to stop us, pretty boy? " one of them sneered.

Jaime drew his weapon and pointed it the man, face dangerously calm.

"I am Her Highness's royal guard, and I will put a bullet in your skull if you don't step away from her now," he growled.

Naela was already looking at Jaime (of course), but she beamed when Lion began barking to say good morning to her. She'd played with the little guy a few times, usually when he was outside with Jaime on weekends (though it was a lot easier to pay attention to the corgi during a barbecue, as opposed to when his handsome owner was hand-washing his car 😍). Naela loved animals in general, but especially when they were fluffy ones that she could hug. She got ready to run across the street to say hello to Lion (& Jaime), but her brother stopped her.

"Uh-uh. I've got my 9:00," Jon huffed, barreling out of the house like a man on a mission. Naela was about to tell him that that was bullshit, because he was not a morning person & she knew that he was just trying to get to his girlfriend sooner, but then her dad appeared. She loved her father--he understood her more than anyone else in the house did--& yet, if he found out she had a crush on his colleague, he'd lose it. He wouldn't yell at her, but he would definitely give her one of his exasperated talks, which she could only sometimes get out of by pouting. Naela knew this from experience; when she was caught kissing her date as he dropped her off after prom, Ned Stark had come charging out of the house with a frown & a flashlight, asking the young man just what he thought he was doing. It was embarrassing. Also, Naela was pretty sure that if her current crush was revealed, her dad would get her removed from both Jaime's history class & his fencing group. So she wisely waited until her dad was in the front seat of the car, then she waved back at Jaime (smiling, of course) & ducked into the car, tossing her backpack between her legs once she was in.

Thank goodness he wasn't just some guy who lived across the street.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

sinking

request: Helloo! 👋🏼 I really like your stories for Spencer Reid, they’re pretty detailed, creative and really interesting! So.. idk if you’ll see this but I was wondering if you’re willing to create a Reid x Reader where, the reader doesn’t know how to swim and so one day, an unsub who works around waters or something holds reader hostage and then shoves her into the ocean off the dock, in hopes to run away and no one knows she can’t swim besides Reid who jumps after her immediately? Sorry, thank u! :)

for: @tooweirdforyou 

word count: 2,600                                                                                     reading time aprox: 10 mins

masterlist

New York City, the land of naked cowgirls in the middle of Times Square, overpriced souvenirs, and home of Broadway shows. Unfortunately we didn’t have the privilege to be stationed in the heart of Manhattan, since our unsub had decided to execute his activities in the suburban neighborhoods of the city.  

We were seated in a police station in Rockaway. The neighborhood we were in was low on the socioeconomic spectrum, which offered a clue to the profile we’ve built. Me, Spencer, and Morgan sat around in the conference of the station, discussing our frivolous adventures of life as we waited for the rest of the team to head back from their tasks. 

“Wait so you’re telling me that you hate the ocean?” Morgan teased Reid, nudging him in the shoulder in a brotherly manner. “Why is that?” He continued, a smirk making its way onto his lips.

“Do you have any idea how many microbes are in the ocean” Spencer cringed, crunching up his nose in disgust. “In a single liter of seawater alone, there’s approximately a colony of one billion bacteria and ten billion virus-” He explained before getting cut off by Morgan. 

“Oka-okay germ boy, enough of that before you ruin my image of a perfect vacation” 

“Germ boy? That’s new” I interjected in amusement, laughing as Spencer squatted lower in his chair to hide the oncoming blush on his cheeks. “Oh come on Spence- hey everyone’s got some sort of phobia” I reassured, reaching over to ruffle his tangled hair. 

“Well actually, a phobia is-” 

“Don’t ruin it Spence” I joked, watching his lips curl up into an amused smile. 

On cue, the rest of the BAU entered the building in a hurry. Hotch and JJ ran side by side into the office where we held Raymund Celter, a relative of the suspected unsub, for questioning. Me, Spencer, and Morgan looked at each other in confusion, until Emily walked up to us with an embittered expression. 

“What’s up?” Morgan asked, directing the conversation to the suspenseful air that surrounded the four of us. 

Emily sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration. “Our unsub...isn’t who we thought it was” She admitted, letting her eyes cast over the interrogation room where Hotch and JJ were.

“Wait- but our profile still fits right?” Morgan insisted with his eyebrows furrowed and his forehead etched with lines. 

“Yeah, but we’ve been looking at the wrong type of relationship” She sighed, her defeated expression indicating the exhaustion that all of us shared. “If the unsub isn’t a relative- and we ruled out employees since the victims aren’t necessarily affluent- who else has full invitation to the house, is comfortable enough with the family, and is particularly close to-” She paused mid sentence as all the cogs in our brains were turning until we all settled on the same idea. 

We looked at each other in revelation and it seemed like JJ and Hotch shared a similar idealization as they rushed out of the interrogation room. 

Emily was quick to get Garcia on the phone, witnessing the troubled looks she received from Hotch. “Garcia, can you see if there were any family friends or close neigh-” She requested, although she was abruptly cut off by Hotch informing her of the details that they’ve uncovered. 

“No need for that. The man we’re looking for is Henry Bennett, he grew up next door to the Celter’s residence- Garcia can you look for the last known address” Hotch commanded, chewing the inside of his mouth in anticipation. 

“Uh- we might have a problem, sir” Garcia sheepishly admitted. “Well I’ve looked at his DMV records and there are 4 possible locations where he can reside at” Garcia explained, sending the coordinates to our tablets. 

“Um okay, we’re going to have to split up. JJ and Morgan, Emily’s with Rossi, Reid you’re with me- Y/N are you okay doing this by yourself?” Hotch asked, concerning wavering in his eyes. I nodded in affirmation, already strapping on my gun and heading to the armory for FBI bullet proof vests. 

After everyone had situated themselves in the right attire, it was time to leave in separate cars. That’s when Spencer pulled me aside by the arm, clutching it with a tense hand. “Are you sure you’re fine going alone? I can tell Hot-” He rambled, his words laced with the same concern Hotch expressed previously. 

“Don’t worry germ boy, I think I can handle myself pretty well” I jokingly reassured. Although the lines etched across his forehead didn’t seem to lessen as I tried to lighten up the air. “Listen Spence...I’m going to be okay- I promise I’ll be extra careful” I expressed in the hopes that his doleful expression would vanish. 

He responded with a hesitant nod and a tight lipped smile, pulling me into a warm embrace. He smelled of pumpkin spice candles mixed in with a little sweat, which, oddly, made out to be a comforting aroma. 

“Hey germ boy, If it makes you feel any better about before, I’m absolutely terrified about the ocean too- well all types of large bodies of water” I sheepishly admitted, ruffling the top of his head as I went to open the front door of the SUV. 

“Wait what?” He replied, taken aback by my profession. “You are?” He continued with a smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah, I don’t do well with the whole “deep water and the unknown thing” I expressed, staring at my twiddling thumbs. “I also, kinda, don’t know how to swim either” I blushed, climbing into the front seat of the vehicle, watching Spencer’s grin grow. Finally bidding a final adieu to all of my colleagues, I headed out to the coordinates I had been assigned to. 

-

With my luck, I was sent to a docking area near Rockaway beach. The coordinates that Garcia had sent me were of an old fishing hut near the coastline. I was in constant contact with the rest of the team, communicating whether the unsub was to be found at our locations.

I surveyed the area with my gun close to my chest, pointed down to the floor. My eyes flickered to the water numerous times, feeling my anxiety rile up in my veins as I attempted to keep my focus on finding unsub.  I was essentially on high alert, every creek and every sound triggering my flight or fight response. 

It wasn't until I had gotten to the fishing hut that my anxiety rose to a new high. The small house was located at the end of the dock where the waves crashed against the wooden spokes below the thin bridge. 

Suddenly, I had heard footsteps from the inside of the hut. I raised my gun into a more controlled position before taking a breath, tentatively opening the door to enter. “FBI”  I yelled, feeling my arms shake as the sound of the water amplified, bouncing off the floorboards. “ Henry Bennett”  I called out,  surveying my surroundings. “ I'm from the FBI, I just want to talk” I peaked  around the corner, seeing a slight shadow of a figure at the end of a hallway. 

I radioed in my location, letting the rest of the team know that I had found the unsub. Hotch informed me that the rest of the team we're coming soon, although they might take longer than expected. With a brief goodbye, I finally made myself known, locking eyes with the unsub himself. “Henry Bennett-” I began but was ultimately cut off with his radical spiel. 

“Ge-get away from m-me” He stuttered, a pistol in his right hand pointed directly at me. “Y-you don-don’t understand. NO ONE UNDERSTANDS!” He yelled, his behavior becoming more unstable by the minute. 

“Hey, it's okay-it's okay, I'm here to help” I proceeded to attempt to calm him down as he started to hit his head with his other hand. Although he continued to inflict harm to himself, repeating the same mantra as before. 

“NO ONE UNDERSTANDS! NO ONE UNDERSTANDS! NO ONE-” 

 In the midst of his words I cut him off abruptly,  placing my gun in its holster to indicate peace. “Henry, look at- hey look at me Henry”  I called his attention, halting his actions. “I'm here to help, my team is going to come very soon and they are going to help you” I reassured, creeping closer to disarm him. 

“Ar-are you sure?” He whimpered, still clutching onto the gun with the tight grip.  I placed my hand over his, letting him sink into my touch. 

“Yes Henry, I promise” I softly guaranteed, feeling his grip loosen up as I rubbed his back to  soothe him. Although as I proceeded to take away his gun, he tensed up again looking at me with doleful eyes. 

“Do you really promise?” He asked in desperation, searching my eyes for the truth as I fished out for his weapon. I nodded, giving him an understanding smile as he finally let go of his weapon. I calmed him down, telling him everything was going to be okay, letting him kneel down into the position to apprehend him for his crimes. 

Unfortunately, the team had picked this time to approach the area, the loud sirens engulfing the dock, triggering the unsub to expel in a violent outburst. Suddenly I was pinned to the ground with strong arms, while malicious screams were emitted from the unsub's mouth. 

“You promised! YOU PROMISED!” The unsub repeated, reaching over to retain the gun he had. “You lied to me- JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM!” He sobbed, pressing the cold metal against the back of my forehead. “Now you’re going to pay” He threatened, forcefully pulling me up to my feet and walking me out to the docks. 

The team came into view as we walked out, although my vision was distorted due to the tears that began to appear in the corners of my eyes. “Henry Bennett, FBI, let her go and things will go smoothly” Spencer spoke, maintaining a calm composure. When he locked eyes with my terrified ones, I saw a chink in his armor. 

Despite the small discovery, he had a firm grip on his gun, pointing it directly at the unsub as the rest of the team followed behind him. 

“NO! SHE LIED TO ME!” Henry bellowed, digging the barrel right into the side of my head as he held me by the neck.

“Please Henry, nobody has to be hurt” Emily interjected, trying to extinguish the situation in a peaceful manner. 

“But- but” Henry shook his head, letting his malevolent expression falter for a moment. The team crept closer to where we were positioned. Soon enough, Henry noticed this and for every step forward the team took, he would take a step back. 

It was until we had reached the end of the dock that the team had realized. “Please Henry, we know what happened with Raymund- we know that his parents didn’t approve of your friendship with him-” Emily began, placing her gun in the holster, similar to the tactic performed before. “-or should I say relationship. It was wrong of them to-”

“THEY WERE WRONG! THEY LIED TO ME!” He screamed, the gun in his hand shaking as he loosened his grip. “I loved him and they t-told m-me I couldn’t” He cried, dropping his weapon. 

The team took this as an opportunity to approach Henry, seeing that he was disoriented. But, they soon found out that they were wrong. Henry threw himself into the water with his arm still latched around me. I struggled against his grip, beating against his rib cage as he fought my resistance. 

With a hard blow to the forehead, I was able to swim up to the surface. I glanced at my feet, seeing his unconscious body drift down into the dark abyss. Terrified thoughts raced inside my head, thinking of the possibility of drowning and never being found. I squirmed and kicked, taking in a breath of air as I broke into the surface. 

Suddenly, I was scooped into a pair of arms as I continued to panic and writhe in their grasp. I took chaste breaths, my eyes still covered with water, so I was unable to see who had me. It was until Spencer’s soothing voice reached my ears, that I finally calmed down. 

“Y/N! Y/N! I got you- hey I got you” He repeated, although the affirmation was more for his own state of mind. 

My breathing was still rapid, but my brain had registered that I was going to be okay. I let tears mix in with the sea water on my cheeks as I sobbed in terror. The cold sensation of the water increased my adrenaline by ten fold. I gripped onto Spencer’s vest, similar to a child with their mother, letting his voice soothe me. 

I placed my head in the crook of his neck as he pulled the both of us near a ladder. He pushed me up gently, encouraging me to climb up to the rest of the team. Once I was situated on land, I sat down and burrowed myself into my knees. I was embarrassed, yet grateful that Spencer had saved me, knowing that my severe fear of water was now known to the rest of the team. 

Finally, Spencer knelt down to where I sat, wrapping his long arms around where I had enclosed myself. I let myself lean into his embrace, nuzzling my head into his neck once again as he helped me control my breathing. 

A blanket was placed on the both of us as I refused to get up. Spencer gave a sideways glance to Hotch in the way of saying “give us a moment’. The team had refuted back to their cars in respect to Spencer’s request, leaving me and him on the dock. 

“Than-thank you” I muttered, able to muster up the strength to express my gratitude. 

“It’s nothing Y/N” He reassured, letting the sound of seagulls and the waves permeate the ambiance of the scene. “When...when you told me that you had a fear of the water- and that you can’t swim- seeing you getting pushed into the water nearly gave me a heart attack” He admitted, breathing into the top of my head. 

“I don’t- I don’t know what to do to thank you Spence. I was so- so terrified- and you went to- I just- thank you” I praised, looking up into his worried expression. 

I placed an apprehensive hand on his cheek, getting a better look at the beautiful features that graced his face. I smiled at him, observing how his eyes would flicker from my eyes to my lips. I blushed at the discovery, letting myself lean more into his embrace. 

Slowly, our faces closed in on the distance, our breaths fanning over each other’s faces as we looked at each other for any indication of resistance. Finally our lips collided in a kiss, maintaining slow movements as we melted in each other. 

His lips were supple and tasted like vanilla lip balm, although his movements were gentle and meaningful. He grazed my cheeks with both of his hands, cupping them in his palms as he pulled away. He proceeded to place chaste kisses on my forehead as I let my eyes close at the feeling. 

“I think that was a pretty great way to thank me” He grinned. 

“I guess I’ll just have to keep thanking you for all the times you’ve made my life better” 

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @howdycharlie​

A/N

i hope this is okay, not my best work, but i hope it’s still enjoyable. 

[drades-lair]

Cheater

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Pairing: Striker/female reader

Rating: M for sexual content and swearing

You smirked wide behind a flared set of cards, one nail tapping melodically on the round brown wooden table while glancing up at your opponent, gaze locking with a pair of piercing yellow eyes sat across the table from you. Your opponent was a pale imp who spoke with a southern drawl with the get up to match, you’d met him here in this smoke filled, crap booze saloon in the middle of the wrath ring and after a couple drinks he agreed to a couple rounds of poker. The imp was watching you carefully probably seeking any tells which you were not going to provide, laying your cards down you pushed all your money into the center of the table with an ‘all in’ declaration.

“I think you’ll regret that course of action,” The imp warned

“Maybe…maybe not…guess we’ll have to wait and see,” You teased picking your cards back up

“Very well, yer loss,” The imp smirked as he pushed his own money into the center of the table

You returned the smirk then revealed your cards at the same time as the imp, a royal flush to a four of a kind and for the first time that evening you saw the imp’s smirk faulter. Chuckling triumphantly, you gathered your winnings from the center of the table, downed the last of your drink then stood from the table elegantly to head for the saloon doors all the while feeling the imp’s gaze following you. Outside you casually counted your winnings when a familiar set of piercing yellow eyes cut through the dim light of sunset, shifting only your gaze in the direction of the imp you watched as he leaned against the bar wall, arms crossed over his chest still maintaining that smirk.

“That was pretty slick in there,” he commented casually

“I beg your pardon?” You asked arching an eyebrow as if confused.

“Don’t play dumb lil lady, I can spot a card cheat from 3 miles out on the back of a hell steed,” The imp chuckled.

“That’s a pretty severe accusation you’re making,” You retorted coyly, tucking away your money while turning to fully face the pale imp.  

“Now listen here, I’m not one ta strike a lady…” The imp began as he pushed off the bar’s wall to swagger over to you. You slowly backed up till your back bumped into the bar’s wall making certain to never take your eyes off the pale imp as he came to stand a mere foot from you.

“But I won’t tolerate one stealin’ my hard-earned money either,” The imp finished his thought with an edge to his voice that was a clear warning.

“And who exactly do you think you are? First you accuse me of cheating! And now you all but threaten me to give back the money?” You dramatically exclaimed

“Name’s Striker, now about that money,” Striker held out his hand as a prompt for you to hand over his cash. As if a switch was flicked your entire demeanour shifted, huge smirk spreading across your features while a deep sigh left your lips along with perhaps the hardest eye roll.

“What if I say no?” You quarried

“Well, there are other ways Ya could pay me back,” Striker suggested with a flirtatious wink

“Ha! Maybe in your dreams cowboy,” You retorted

“Then I suggest Ya give me the cash and get on yer way,” Striker persisted

“Sorry sweet thing, gonna have to pass on both those options,” You informed Striker who released an exasperated sigh.

“Nah, I’m sorry because now…things get messy,” Striker pulled his pistol from its holster

Striker got one shot off which you dodged by squatting to the ground followed by sweeping a leg out to trip the unexpecting cowboy. The pale imp gave a yelp of surprise as his ass hit the ground; you sprang back up managing to grab a steel bar you’d seen sticking from the bar’s wall above where you had been standing. Shoving off the wall with your feet you swung your body weight upwards with a flip to get to the roof where you landed in a squatting position, blowing a kiss with a wink to Striker before taking off along the roof tops leaving a very confused yet highly impressed imp in your wake.

 3 weeks later…

 (Y/N) found herself in a relatively nice hotel after winning another couple rounds of poker, walking into the hotel room she tossed her duffle onto the floor before shrugging off her jacket to hang on the coat rack. The lights were still off leaving only a faint glow from the windows as the sun was beginning to set just as she hung her coat up the hotel room door closed startling the demoness, turning around a pair of yellow eyes pierced through the darkness. The demoness’s eyes adjusted to the darkness revealing the familiar form of Striker leaning against the wall next to the door, arms crossed over his chest and legs crossed at the ankles.

“You! How did you find me?” (Y/N) questioned slowly backing away

“It’s kinda what I do,” Striker stated, pushing off the wall to follow (Y/N).

“So, you break into my hotel room? That’s awful brazen of you,” (Y/N) accused as her legs hit the beds edge.

“Humph, Ya mean like how it was brazened of Ya ta cheat me outta my money?” Striker retorted stopping a foot from the demoness.

“Wow, you don’t hold a grudge do you,” (Y/N) sarcastically commented with an eyeroll

“Like a hell hound with a bone,” Striker confirmed

(Y/N) leaned back placing a hand on the bed as Striker got closer, leaning over the demoness with that massive smirk plastered on his features. Snarling angrily (Y/N) brought a hand up smacking Striker hard across the face eliciting a hiss from the imp as he cupped his cheek before firmly snatching the demoness’s wrist.

“Now, now, play nice,” Striker growled

“Yeah right, like I’m going to just allow you to do what you want with me!” (Y/N) exclaimed struggling against his grip.

“Hmm, impressive. It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone with this kind of gumption,” Striker cooed continuing to move forwards, planting a knee on the bed next to (Y/N)’s hip.

“Fuck you!” (Y/N) snarled, bringing a foot up to Striker’s torso with a hefty heave easily flipping the imp onto his back on the opposite side of the bed allowing the demoness to get back on her feet.

“I like a feisty lil thang,” Striker chuckled breathlessly, flipping himself back onto his feet. Striker is about to jump over the bed, but the demoness beats him to it, lunging directly towards him to pin the imp to the far wall.

“I’m not your average female,” (Y/N) assured Striker firmly holding his hands to either side of his head.

“So, I gathered,” Striker agreed letting out a hefty chuckle as his smirk spread wider. (Y/N) panted softly, breath mingling with Striker’s as he too panted, her eyes looking the imp from head to toe. A curl of heat settled in her loins at the whole situation, she couldn’t deny the imp was handsome even at the poker game she’d thought the same thing the moment he walked into that bar. The demoness’ brain was desperately trying to tell her this was dangerous but at the same time…it had been so fucking long since she’d gotten any, and her aching loins were demanding more of the handsome imp pinned to the wall.

“Ugh! Fuck it!” The demoness growled irritably, pressing her lips to the imps which seemed to take him off guard for a moment as the imp’s body stiffened then relaxed as he pressed back into the kiss. (Y/N) slid their tongues together however as the kiss grew heated Striker pushed against the demoness’s grip only to find himself pinned harder to the wall with a knee firmly shoved between his legs causing him to release a guttural groan into the kiss.

“Nah-uh…this is my rodeo…cowboy,” (Y/N) breathed out upon parting from the kiss, dipping her head to Striker’s neck where she wrapped her jaws around the front of his throat. A deep growl came from Striker as she bite down just enough to leave surface teeth marks but not draw blood. Striker’s tail came around in an attempt to grab the demoness but in her heightened state of awareness she quickly entangled her own reptilian like tale with his, subduing it almost instantly making Striker give an irritable grunt that only made (Y/N) chuckle. Pulling off Striker’s neck (Y/N) licked her tongue along the mark all the way up to Striker’s chin before pulling back with a wide smirk.

“Fucking bitch! Let me go!” Striker snarled

“Oh? Isn’t this what you wanted? Let me guess…you wanted to be the big bad Alpha, right?” (Y/N) teased, her slight height difference making it easy to manipulate Striker in this position. Another gentle rock of her knee made the imp hiss as a pale pink started dusting his face and (Y/N) could feel the hard line of his manhood in his pants. Noting that this position was going to be impossible to maintain (Y/N) roughly yanked Striker off the wall while he was distracted, shoving him to the bed.

“What the-!” Striker yelped out as his back hit the mattress, (Y/N) straddling his torso with her hands tightly holding his wrists above his head before he even had a moment to recover. The demoness began trailing a hand down Striker’s torso using one hand to easily hold both of his own in place even as he struggled, stopping at his pants where she began undoing his belt. Leaning forwards (Y/N) trailed kisses along Striker’s neck to his nape where she latched on to suck vigorously making the imp squirm further beneath her. Finally, she pulled the pale imp’s belt free of his pants quickly pulling off his neck to tether his hands with said belt, wrapping it around the metal bars of the bed frame after all this was a nice hotel but not that nice thus a wire frame bed was standard. Striker yanked at the binds with a growl clearly this wasn’t what he’d had in mind although (Y/N) was certain if he’d been given the chance the imp would have had her trust up in a similar manner.

“Come now, Darlin’…this is unnecessary, I’ll only bite if Ya ask me ta,” Striker cooed clearly trying to charm the demoness into letting him go.

“Like I already said…this is my rodeo,” (Y/N) retorted unphased by the imp’s attempt, biting her bottom lip seductively as she sat back trailing delicate fingers down Striker’s covered chest.

Another huffed growl escaped Striker, but he appeared to finally surrender to the situation, watching as the demoness shifted further down his body to straddle his hips. Nimble fingers started undoing the buttons on his vest followed by both demoness’s hands caressing down the length of his torso before hooking her thumbs under the hem of his black long-sleeved shirt, pushing it up as her hands caressed back up over bare skin. Leaning down the demoness licked a strip from Striker’s stomach to his chest where she planted a couple kisses before moving to one of his nipples, swirling the nub with her tongue before sucking down onto it. Striker tipped his head back with a moan who ever this woman was she sure as fuck knew what she was doing because fuck! Striker had some good sex in his time, but this right now was quickly out doing all those times, he’d never gotten so hard so quick in his life! Even by his own hand. The demoness caressed claws down Striker’s ribs on the one side while flicking his other nipple using her thumb on the other hand, still sucking liberally on the original one she’d taken into her mouth.

Striker started unconsciously rocking his hips in an attempt for some kind of friction however it was almost painful as his jeans were far too tight by this point. Suddenly the abuse on his chest stopped as the demoness pulled back only lightly caressing her claws down the expanse of the imp’s torso to the waistband of his pants where finally she popped the button then pulled the zipper down before pulling his jeans down to his thighs. (Y/N) let out a chuckle as she lightly tapped the pad of her index finger to the drooling slit of Striker’s cock pulling away a small strand of the precum before looking up to see those yellow eyes watching her intently, half lidded as he panted deeply with a deep blush across his face. The demoness cupped her hand around Striker’s balls gently massaging her thumb over them while her fingers caressed along the backside of them eliciting another moan from Striker along with what sounded like metal bending. (Y/N) started sucking on the index finger of her other hand then moved it below Striker’s balls to his entrance immediately causing the imp to stiffen.

“Hey! What are…Ya…doin’?” Striker panted out

“Hush, I’m going to make it feel amazing,” (Y/N) assured the imp as she pressed the single digit into Striker.

“Ugh…fuck!” Striker cursed as his head fell back again with the sound of metal bending getting louder.

“That’s it…easy now…” The demoness cooed as she started thrusting her finger however the hand that had been on Striker’s balls suddenly moved to the base of his cock.

“Holy…fuck! Satan’s balls!” Striker cried out in surprise at the sudden contact to his overly sensitive dick.

Chuckling softly the demoness slowly stroked upwards then back down setting an agonizingly slow pace as she caressed along Striker’s insides seeking that one spot, she knew would make the cowboy reel in pleasure. A sharp inhale was all (Y/N) needed to know when she found the spot, she started rubbing along it while still stroking his cock although she did increase her pace slightly along with a twist of her wrist near the head. Striker started letting out grunting groans that mingled with the whining of the metal of the bed as it was bending from Striker’s straining, his teeth clenching as it appeared he might be trying to hold back.

“Come on cowboy…cum for me,” The demoness encouraged

“Fuck!” Striker exclaimed with a guttural groan as he released, spilling cum onto his own stomach as well as over (Y/N)’s fingers while she continued to stroke him through the waves of pleasure.

Pulling back the demoness began to strip revealing a lean muscular figure with that lavender skin glowing in the moonlight coming through the window. (Y/N)’s eyes began to glow bright yellow as her pupils turned to slits, pulling out a condom from her pants pocket she seductively ripped it open with her teeth then gingerly slipped it onto Striker’s still hard length. Tossing all her cloths to the floor (Y/N) crawled back up just passed Striker’s cock, sitting back on her haunches for a moment to caress her cunt. Slowly (Y/N) made a show of sliding her fingers along her wet folds before dipping briefly into her pussy then repeating the process again all while under that glowing yellow gaze. Satisfied (Y/N) repositioned by raising her hips then guiding Striker’s cock to her vaginal opening, slowly the demoness lowered herself onto Striker’s cock making them both moan in pleasure till she was sitting on Striker’s hips with both hands on his stomach just waiting to adjust.

A few moments passed before (Y/N) started moving, raising her hips up then lowering back down in a circular motion. Striker started thrusting his hips upwards in time to the demoness’s movements slowly increasing in speed till she was leaning back with her hands on his thighs, head tipped backwards with open mouthed moans. The demoness was so distracted she didn’t notice the sound of leather snapping however she did notice when Striker sat upright and firmly wrapped an arm around her back while supporting himself with the other, increasing his thrusting with a snarl into the demoness’s chest. (Y/N) didn’t care that the imp was loose at this point because the slight shift in position as well as speed was hitting all the right spots making her lower abdomen clench.

“T-Touch me…please…” (Y/N) panted out, hair falling messily around her face as she looked down at Striker.

Striker obliged moving his arm from the demoness’s back to slide his hand to her pussy, massaging two fingers in circles on her clit making her release a gasping moan. The duo were panting heavily with sweat beading along their skin when (Y/N)’s orgasm released causing her to clench around Striker quickly pulling the imp over the edge as well into his second orgasm of the night. Remaining still for a moment to regain their senses the two eventually started parting, (Y/N) pulling off Striker to lay on her back on the other side of the bed while he fell back. Silence filled the room for a long while as the euphoric high of a good fuck slowly started to clear.

“I gotta admit that was probably one of the best fucks I’ve had in a while,” Striker broke the silence glancing over to the demoness beside him.

“Well, glad I could oblige,” (Y/N) chuckled softly

“For my reputations sake I hope it was just as good for Ya,” Striker smirked

“It was…still want your money back?” (Y/N) asked sarcastically with another chuckle

“Nope, that was well worth it,” Striker chuckled back

Striker pushed up off the bed to strip his clothing off then head for the bathroom clearly heading to have a shower while (Y/N) continued to bask in the after glow, pulling the sheets up over her naked body before grabbing her pants with her tail to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Striker emerged from the bathroom about 20 minutes later with only a towel around his waist, white hair tussled from being dried briefly with a towel as it was still damp. (Y/N) exhaled a puff of smoke as she eyed the imp who’d begun getting dressed.

“A fuck and go huh?” (Y/N) inquired taking another drag of her cigarette

“Ha-ha, I’ve got a job in the mornin’ and only a few hours of sleep before then…luckily my room is on the top floor of this hotel,” Striker laughed shrugging on his jacket.

“Hmm, alright. Perhaps we could do this again sometime…or maybe you’d like another game of poker,” (Y/N) suggested with a small smirk

“Guess we’ll see now, won’t we,” Striker retorted with a smirk and a wink before heading out the door.

(Y/N) softly chuckled to herself as she finished her cigarette then headed for a shower herself.    

[cilliansgirl]

angel ✧ finn shelby

Pairing: Finn Shelby x Female!reader

Warnings: mentions of rape, sex, just overall bad themes

Summary: After Finn left (Y/N), she goes to another Peaky boy for comfort. But three months in, he gets a little too comfortable and her boys aren’t there to save her this time.

A/N: This is bad bc I literally wrote it in 30 mins but hey ideas are sparking which I am not opposed to. 

GIF IS NOT MINE

She'd only given in because she was lonely. She didn't love him. He had only been there for her company. Now here she was, unable to get flee from the situation. He asked her to get married; she knew by the golden glint in his eyes that he was serious. She cared for him, but not as much as she did Finn. When did they even start dating? She doesn't remember. The past three months have all been a blur to her. It was all for comfort, all to satisfy her physical needs. She didn't know what to say. She blankly stared at the simple diamond ring held out to her. She felt her whole body shut down. She had to do it. She had to reject him because he wasn't Finn.

"I'm sorry, I-I can't," she whispered, almost inaudible.

"But you said you loved me," he retorted, his rage starting to rise.

"I don't."

"You don't love me or you won't because I'm not him," the man angrily slipped back.

“Both,” she stated, finally making contact with the firing rage in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she attempted to rush out the house but not before he harshly grabbed her wrist.

“You’re not leaving me,” he shot back.

“Please, please, stop,” she urged softly, twisting her hand to escape his grip.

He shouted, “No!”

Before she became aware, it was all happening. He had grabbed her waist and turned her towards him. She was fighting and fighting but he had taken advantage. It was never supposed to happen like this. She never meant it to go this far. She stopped fighting, she gave up. The boys had taught her how to fight when she was with them, but he was simply too strong. Nothing could save her. Her clothes were ripped off, her whole body became numb. She felt like a rag doll; being used, pulled, thrown in every which way. She didn’t really believe in God, but in this moment all she did was pray. Prayed that someone, anyone, would walk through the door. Prayed that Isaiah would walk through the door and save her like he always did, but no one came.

The next three hours were traumatizing. She just wanted to go home, so she did. She left while he was asleep, cautious not to wake him. Her clothes were ripped to shreds; she was in no place to be walking the streets of Small Heath, especially in the cold weather. The only decent piece of clothing keeping her covered was her long trench coat. She arrived at her door after what seemed like an eternity. She hurried and slammed the door shut just as harshly as she entered, swiftly locking every bolt on the door. Her first thought was to get it all off, every filthy touch and heinous word had to be washed out, so that is what she did. She doesn’t exactly know how long she had been sitting in the tub, but she knew it was time to get out when the water began chilling. She wrapped herself in a black cotton towel and grabbed her undergarments from her wardrobe.

After dressing herself slowly, the young girl looked in the mirror at the marks the man had given her. She thought unforgivable things.

Maybe this is what I get.

Maybe its karma for your family’s past.

I don’t know what to feel.

You cried the entire time, you have no more tears left.

Maybe screaming would let out my emotions.

Or even sleeping.

I have to tell someone.

Tell who? You have no one around.

Tommy, Finn, Micheal, Pol, anyone.

They don’t love you anymore.

Don’t say that.

You’re not Finn’s girl now, they left you. Accept it.

But Isiah-

No. Isiah hasn’t come to visit you since you moved on your own.

I need protection, what if he comes back and hurts me again?

Let’s leave, we can go to London.

No, Small Heath is home.

Before the voice could rebuttal there was a startling knock on the front door. She quickly got covered in a casual dress with a slip on over to hide the animalistic marks and bruises. On her way out from her room, she grabbed the pistol Finn had given her on their first official date.

Use it if I’m not there, alright?

She sneakily padded her bare feet to the door, careful not to make any noises the would alert the visitor there was anyone home. She put the pistol up to the door, looking through the peephole, holding her breath.

She sighed, it was only Pol. She tossed the pistol on the vanity in the hallway, pulling her slip tighter around her so Pol wouldn’t be able to make out the bruises. She unlocked the four bolts that held the door down before swinging it open with a small smile.

“My dear (Y/N)!” Polly exclaimed, bringing her in for an embrace.

“Hello, Polly,” she spoke, more quiet than usual, which didn’t go unnoticed by Ms. Polly Gray.

“Please, come in, get yourself out of the cold,” (Y/N) continued.

As Polly made her way to the dining room table, (Y/N) shut the door, gathering her slip once again.

She walked into the kitchen, not daring to make eye contact with Polly.

“Can I get you anything Pol? Water, tea, whiskey?”

Polly quietly shook her head, bringing the ashtray on the dining table closer to her. (Y/N) made her way to sit across from Polly, finally able to meet her eyes.

“Why are you here, Pol?”

“Just because you and Finn are not together anymore does not mean I will not come visit you,” Pol criticized, taking a drag from her cigarette.

“Mhmm,” (Y/N) hummed quietly, pulling her notebook in front of her, trying to make herself busy. What (Y/N) didn’t think about was that reaching over the table caused her slip to droop down her neck, exposing one of the worse marks.

“God, (Y/N)! What happened to you!” Polly shouted, throwing her cigarette on the table, rushing to inspect (Y/N)’s body.

Instinctively (Y/N) pulled the slip closer to her body, “It’s nothing Polly, just leave it.” Before Polly could even reach (Y/N), she had scurried off to her room and locked the door, ignoring the shouting of her name while doing so.

(Y/N) curled herself up in the corner of her room, knees to chest, head resting on the tops of her knees. Minutes later (Y/N) heard someone approach the door. They attempted to twist the handle, but to no avail.

“(Y/N), just tell me what happened. I promise I will not get upset,” Polly stated softly.

“No, I can’t,” (Y/N) sniffled, “It’s all my fault Pol.”

“Hey, hey. Just open the door and we can talk about it.”

As seconds passed, the young girl gathered herself and slowly eased the door open, leading Polly to sit on the edge of her bed.

“We don’t have to talk, I just need you to shake your head yes or no,” Polly eased.

(Y/N) shook her head in agreement.

“Was it the new Peaky boy recruit you met at the Garrison?”

Yes.

“Was it consensual?”

No.

“Did he hurt you?”

Yes.

“(Y/N), were you raped?”

Yes.

The hot tears streamed down the girls face, while Polly leaned over and embraced her, welcoming (Y/N) to cry in her chest.

“Come on, darling. I’m going to make a call,” Polly whispered, kissing the top of her (h/c) hair.

The two walked to the phone that was in the main entrance corridor. Once the phone call as over, it wasn’t 1 hour that all of the boys were over at (Y/N)’s; they were comforting her, not really knowing what to do, so they decided the best thing to give her was space.

(Y/N) leant on Micheal’s shoulder, his arm rubbing up and down her back.

“He’s taken care of (Y/N),” Tommy squatted down in front of her, “He won’t be coming near you ever again, darling.”

(Y/N) nodded, quietly thanking them for taking care of the issue. But all of them know that they couldn’t rid their best girl of the trauma she experienced.

it wasn’t long until Finn and Isiah walked through the door; if you thought the atmosphere was already tense, you were very much mistaken. Polly looked at the grown men and then to Finn, ushering them out of the room so (Y/N) could take to Finn alone.

He sat on the couch next to her; it was obvious that he had been crying too. But his tears were tears of rage and anger. Rage and confusion on why anyone in their right mind would do this to a sweet and stunning girl like her.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there, angel,” he whispered, “I should’ve never left you alone. I should know better.”

“Why’d we end it?” She asked, catching him off guard.

“I-uhmm-I was afraid of putting you in danger. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you,” Finn spoke.

“Well, looks like that was thrown out the window,” she joked, yet still with a monotone voice.

“Come back with me.”

She turned to him, “What?!”

“Come back home. You’re safer with me than with anyone else. I’ll make sure no one even looks at you the wrong way. Just please come back home,” Finn pleaded.

(Y/N) hesitantly nodded, leading in to kiss him as he did the same. After they pulled apart, she rested her head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her, safely. For the first time in four months she felt at home.

“I’m never leaving you again, understand. No one hurts my angel.”