#Sniper’s Brain Game

[magicsnipperenigma]

[navy-leader]

Yuppeeee !!

[sexhaver]

i do love how before the DLC dropped there was some theorizing (more so on this site than reddit or youtube) about how St. Trina might have been Miquella's trans identity, since they were referred to as the same person but with different pronouns, and they both have powers that influence emotions, and after all Miyazaki has been weirdly ambiguous about trans narratives in the past with Gwyndolin so it's not like the lack of evidence is necessarily a nonstarter. and then the DLC drops and is like, "no, dumbass, obviously St. Trina is the personification of a huge chunk of Miquella's personality (his capacity to love) and was abandoned by him but was already a separate entity before that but also wasn't and they're the same person but aren't and also she (St. Trina) wants to reunite with her "parent" demigod (Miquella) so she can kill him. you know, like the other two character pairings in the base game that both already did literally exactly that. dipshit. now kill yourself in front of her four times"

[bam-monsterhospital]

me, a person with poor aim, whose adhd brain deletes the crosshair from my vision, who can't tell where the center of the screen is, playing overwatch on a laptop with juttering lag whenever fights go down: i wanna main widowmaker ouo

[4giorno]

omg. soon we will FINALLY be free of the crying abt artifact load outs 😍😍😍😍 anyway im thinking abt that beautiful musketeer character from the leaked concept art and how we will never have them in the game and instead we get chevr*use

[thecathulhu]

I play stealth games like I eat pussy, love to be in the bush.

[fictionallyinparadise]

💌🥰💭 for the ask game!!! :3

Aaaa thank you!! I'm gonna answer with Rick :D

💌 - What would a love letter from your f/o look like?

OUGH.......

'Hey there babycakes! Nobody can claim I'm not romantic now, I wrote you a LETTER! That hasn't been done since like...who cares. Anyways, I thought this would make you smile so I did it. Because even if I don't see it, just thinking about you smiling makes me happy. Your happiness is more contagious than the flu, baby! Love ya! Also don't touch the wax it's poisonous.'

🥰 - What little thing do they do makes you happy?

So many things,,,,

Hugging me from behind while I'm making tea is one thing wahh. Just. Arms around me, head on shoulder, watching me make tea.

Almost always having some form of contact with me. Arm around me, pinkies linked together, holding hands, holding my arm, etc. It's both in a "I want people to know you're mine and I'm yours" way and a "holding you makes me feel whole"!!!

And so much more 🥺

💭 - If you could read their mind, what thoughts would they have about you?

Oh god SHGSHGHSH- 😭

"They're so fucking pretty what the FUCK. How did I pull them. I'm a fuckin' GOD!"

"Their eyes look so warm and comforting. But like in a dirt way. Dirt in the sunlight. That makes sense. I'm never saying that aloud. Unless it'd make them laugh."

"Holy shit they're wearing my clothes holy shit remain calm. Can they tell I'm losing my mind over this? They look so fucking cute and- ARE MY CLOTHES BIG ON THEM? HA, SHORT BASTARD. God I love them."

I think those are the more innocent ones SHGHSHGHG- along with other random ones like "how can I make them smile", "do I wanna makeout with them to piss people off or to makeout with them", etc etc etc.

We're both so fucking silly for each other </3

[machveil]

How would our sweet shy Konig act when dealing with a reader who is openly down bad for him, and isn't shy about expressing it? I'm talking openly staring/making eyes at him even when they're caught, sighing when they see him bent over or squatting (I know he got a fatty, I just know it), saying "wish that were me" when sparring and seeing him put someone in a headlock, hears someone mutter "fuck the colonel" and goes "I'm fucking trying", etc. I just wanna (probably poorly) rizz this man up, I'm trying to climb this tree of a man like a coconut crab, ya feel me? -🐸

we are the same person I fear I wrote this in one go, pray for me

CW: inexperienced!König, give my boy a smooch, he deserves it!!

König doesn’t know what to do at first - his poor brain is dizzy and running in circles trying to figure out what’s happening! he’s never been popular amongst people, especially romantically. throughout his childhood and teen years no one had a crush on the social recluse, let alone approached him to be friends

so when you start publicly talking about how much you like him? König isn’t sure if it’s a mean joke or if you’re serious. he’s been on the receiving end of pranks in high school, peers asking him out as a dare or bet only to not show up. but you? he’s not really sure if it’s a joke with how persistent you are

König is beet red under his hood, eyes wide when he hears you make comments about him - he’s caught on to your smitten gaze, how you whisper to other soldiers about his physique, how you tell him face-to-face he’s cute despite never seeing… him, unmasked and vulnerable. it baffles him, genuinely. he’s not sure if this some weird game you started, maybe it’s just playful teasing?

König wasn’t sure until he heard someone curse him out in passing - a new recruit that had gotten on his nerves. König was about to have a word with them, but then he heard you. “God, who shoved a stick up that prick’s ass? Fuck the Colonel, he—“ “I’m trying to.”, a little quip that had König frozen. “I mean, sorry, but have you seen him? God, I mean really, have you seen his thighs?”

König isn’t sure if he’s breathing or not when you notice him, an innocent smile and a cute wave thrown in his direction, “Oh— König! Hey, I was just talking about you!”, god help him, all he can do is swallow and nod, giving you his own awkward wave

König who works up the nerve to talk to you about what’s been happening - is this a sick joke? is this a prank? he’s floored when you tell him you’re being genuine, that you do really, really like him. he’s heard you thirsting over him for weeks and you’ve meant it?

it takes a couple more conversations before he’s hand in hand with you, palm a little sweaty as he leads you to his room. for as big and intimidating as he is, he really is inexperienced. when he told you that he’d only had tipsy, bad sex after bar nights he didn’t expect you to say you’d treat him right - he didn’t expect you to want him to begin with though

maybe that’s why he’s a little quiet at the beginning, big hand shaky as they awkwardly sqeezes your hand. he’s not confident in what he’s doing, not sure what would feel good. all he knows is that he wants his sniper hood off. so he flicks the light off in his room, submerged in the dark where you won’t see his face - you won’t see the scars and freckles that dot his skin

but when you sit him down on the bed, kiss his face and cup his cheek, he melts when you pay attention to his roughed up skin. biting back little moans when you straddle his thigh and nip at his neck. he can’t help it when his hips buck involuntarily, squirming when you grind against his jean clad thigh. it’s all a blur of sweet words cooed at him, your clothes tugged off and slow, sweet prep. he’s drooling a little, jaw slack and broken moans leaving his mouth when you sink down onto him. it isn’t like those bad hookups after drinking, it makes him feel loved

his hands glued to your hips, he cracks a dopey, fucked out smile when you murmur about doing this again - a whine resonating in the back of his throat when you kiss him, “Ah— Liebling, please— please—“, hips clumsily bucking up to meet yours

[snowed-leopard]

Engineer’s workshop!

Please for the love of Engineer, click and zoom in.

I tried to put lots of luttle things to find in here

Stats, yapping, and in progress pics below the cut. Also a list of Easter eggs and references!

Estimated time elapsed: 28+ hours

Brush strokes ~27k

Date started: dec 8th 2024

Date complete jan 17 2025

Strain to my poor brain: infinite

Okay in all seriousness this was really hard and in a good way. I really tried to push my rendering, my attempts at making a scene complex, my visual storytelling, my perspective abilities, all that junk. Originally my engie oc was supposed to be standing there but I just couldn’t get him to fit in so I scrapped it. Plus he’s blue team and this is the red engineers workshop.

Fun fact nothing is traced, not even that teleporter, I took the image of it off the wiki, got in a call with my friends, and spent 45 mins cursing out my existence while sketching it. There was also originally a full level two sentry where the scout bot was but I hated myself tryna draw it so I stopped because this is meant to be a fun excercise.

In the future, over a long long time, I intend to do the rest of the mercs rooms, and snipers van, just since engie is my fave I started here. Expect me to take a looong break before I do the next tho. This is exhausting to do. The medic in his office doesn’t count for this he was a test run to prove to myself I could do this.

In progress images, in order

A list of things in here in no particular order

A tiny desk engineer

A scout bunny

Breadly the bread monster, who’s escaped (a pun on the name bradley)

Sniper

The top to a mini sentry

A level 2/3 sentry gun

A disassembled scout bot

Gunslinger parts

A dispenser blueprint

A baseball

A 2fart sticker and tf2 sticker

Another sentry light

A graffiti’d “do not feed the birds” poster that the ig version of exists in game

A yeti warning poster feom the game

A “wear your hardhats” poster from the game

The stock and southern hospitality wrenches

[rose24207]

Interrupted Stream

Summary: Lando is streaming and the chat seems to like his girlfriend more than him.

TW: None!

Genre: fluff, humor

A/N: English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Lando was in the middle of an intense game, his eyes glued to the screen. His chat was alive with their usual chaotic energy, commenting on everything from his questionable aim to his random screams whenever he got ambushed.

“Alright, chat,” he muttered, leaning closer to his mic. “This is it. Big brain plays only. I’m clutching this—wait, WHAT?!”

A sniper shot from across the map ended his game, and he threw his hands up in disbelief. “That’s so unfair! How did he even see me?”

The chat erupted with laughter:

“Lan, you’re blind.”

“Bro, he was RIGHT THERE.”

“Classic Lando meltdown.”

He sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Chat, you’re supposed to be on my side. You’re supposed to support me. Where’s the loyalty?”

As he rambled on, the door to his office opened, and you walked in holding a mug. “Lando, do you—oh. Are you live?”

He spun around in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. “I am, indeed, live. And now so are you.”

You froze for a second, glancing at the camera. “Oh no,” you said, setting the mug on his desk. “This is why I avoid this room when you’re streaming.”

The chat immediately exploded:

“Y/N REVEAL!”

“WE’VE BEEN BLESSED!”

“OH SHE’S HERE!”

Lando leaned back, hands clasped behind his head. “Chat, look who decided to join us. Everyone say hi to my very lovely girlfriend.”

“Hi, chat,” you said reluctantly, waving. Then you turned to Lando with a suspicious look. “Wait. Why do you look so smug? What did I walk into?”

“I was just showing chat how amazing I am at this game,” he said innocently, gesturing at the screen.

You raised an eyebrow. “Amazing? Didn’t I just hear you screaming about getting sniped?”

The chat went wild again:

“SHE KNOWS!”

“Y/N CALLS HIM OUT!”

“WE LOVE HER ALREADY.”

Lando groaned, putting his head in his hands. “Why are you always on their side?”

“Because they’re right,” you teased, sitting on the arm of his chair. “Let me guess. You ran straight into the open without looking, didn’t you?”

“Excuse me,” he said, pointing at you. “I’m a tactical genius. They just got lucky.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, babe. Tactical genius. That’s why you once threw a grenade at your own teammate.”

The chat was losing it:

“EXPOSED.”

“LAN, SHE’S TOO GOOD.”

“PLEASE LET HER STREAM INSTEAD.”

Lando groaned, covering his face. “This is cyberbullying. From my own girlfriend.”

“Call it tough love,” you said, smirking. “Besides, you’re the one who left your socks on the kitchen counter this morning, so you deserve it.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Lando exclaimed, his cheeks turning red as he glanced at the camera.

“Everything,” you said, standing up. “Alright, I’ll leave you and chat to... whatever this is. Try not to embarrass yourself too much, yeah?”

Lando turned to the camera with a dramatic pout. “Chat, she’s so mean to me. Don’t you feel bad for me?”

The responses were immediate:

“NOPE.”

“WE STAN Y/N.”

“JUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE, LAN.”

Before you could leave, Lando grabbed your hand. “Wait, wait! Before you go, answer one thing.”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “What?”

He turned back to the chat with a grin. “Alright, chat, here’s the question: Who’s better at Mario Kart—me or Y/N?”

You snorted. “Oh, that’s not even a question. I destroy you every time.”

The chat erupted again:

“Y/N SUPREMACY.”

“GET HER ON STREAM!”

“LAN IS FINISHED.”

Lando shook his head, laughing. “Unbelievable. I’m outnumbered in my own stream. You’re supposed to be on my team!”

“I am,” you said with a smile. “But only when you’re actually good at something.”

The mock gasp Lando let out was so over-the-top that you couldn’t help but laugh. You kissed the top of his head. “Good luck, babe. Don’t lose again.”

As you walked out, Lando turned back to the camera, shaking his head. “Chat, this is my life. Constantly roasted, no support, but hey... I think I kinda like it.”

The chat spammed hearts and laughing emojis as Lando launched into his next game, grinning from ear to ear.

Thank your for reading!

[piccolos-bigtoe]

Practicing,,, realism,,, ? idrk what to call it,? Coz it’s not exactly realistic but whatever whatever, idk how I feel about them but I’m posting them anyways. Uerhm I’m sorry I’m so sniper scout brained guy, I can’t help it guys I swear.

I can’t get them out of my head,,, been writing some stuffs for them that I should clean up and upload online mayhaps.. I literally have no idea why I like them so much, how tf do I explain to a normal person I like to ship two 27 year old guys from a almost 20 year old game??? Save me white boys..

If anyone else is doing the artfight let me know.. I would like to draw your characters :D. I’ve already done two attacks so far I’m just having trouble finding people to attack eurhm I’m just Aristotle on artfight if u follow me I will follow back,

I thought I would share one of the attacks I did, for my siblings characters Atlas (right) and Wesley (left) (@fruiitcake on tumblr and bluumei on insta and AF (look at his characters they are super cool go attack them!!!)) eurhm yah I think that is all I have going on for me.. been working more hours at my work and am also currently posting from my work,

[ourwhisperingtorment]

The many times the show made it obvious that the Hwang bros love and care for each other

Inho gave his kidney to Junho because he can’t let his little brother die. If that doesn’t scream “LOVE” I don’t know what does.

Junho in s1. Do I need to elaborate? He literally risked his life going there. He killed ruthlessly. I know that he is aware there’s a high probability that Inho’s already dead (considering he was one of the players) but he still went on. He wanted justice if his brother was really dead. That is DEDICATION. And you can’t have dedication without love.

The Frontman looking at Junho’s ID for too long. I’m pretty sure his brain froze there for a moment before experiencing mixed emotions as to how he can keep his little brother alive. Also the, “bring him to me alive,”—no one is allowed hurt his little brother except Inho himself

The VIP room when that one fucking VIP asked Junho to stay, and Junho replied, “but I must serve the other guests.” We all saw the frontman look their way (it’s only 1 second so it’s a blink and miss it). He recognized his little brother’s voice. (But at that moment, he was unsure so he didn’t do anything.)

Inho shooting Junho on the shoulder but hesitating and shaking before doing so. After shooting him, he looked so distressed. He even hallucinated an image of his brother when he was cleaning his wound. He’s clearly on the verge of crying too. This was the very first time we saw that the frontman still has humanity in him.

I’m pretty sure it was Inho who sent Captain Park to rescue his brother. To ensure he’d make it out of the island alive. But also to keep him running in circles so he wouldn’t find the island again. He wanted his brother away and safe from the games.

Junho’s last word before being in a coma & Junho’s first word after being in a 1 year coma is “hyung.”

Junho continued to search for the island for 2 years after that 1 year coma. We all know he wants to see his brother first before trying to save everyone there. Is he even trying to save the players at this point? When we all know he could ruthlessly kill people who got in his way of searching for his brother? (Well, he has a sense of justice. But I would still say his brother comes first.)

Junho not telling Gihun about the frontman’s identity. His face looking all sad and depressed whenever Gihun mentions “the frontman.”

Remember the snipers who shot the cars trailing Inho’s limousine? The snipers didn’t shoot Junho’s car but instead, there was something attached in his car that only affected one wheel. Inho really couldn’t risk some snipers shooting his little brother.

I’ve said this in another post but I’ll say it again: Their relationship wouldn’t be so complicated if they didn’t love each other.

[myuareustillsleeping]

will you still love me?

kang no-eul x f!reader

summary: (name) finds a gun in their shared apartment.

tw: gun and being kicked out.

not proofread!

(lowercase intended)

no-eul was late. it was 9:00 pm. (name) and no-eul had agreed the latest time to come home is 9:00. what if no-eul is in danger? or worst, she’s cheating. i mean, no-eul’s job is literally being a mascot in a amusement park or whatever, it usually ends at 4pm so why is she so late? she never liked socialising. so she wouldn’t be eating with her friends/co-workers.

(name) decided to stop overthinking it and ask her later when she comes back home. she decided to clean the apartment first because she had made a mess trying to find her comfortable clothes. and there was so many dust. but then she sees this black case in no-eul’s office area. it wasnt dusty so it was often taken out. (name) got curious and opened the case, it was fairly heavy and there was a sheet covering the thing inside. she took it off.

it was a gun. to add on top of that, it was a sniper rifle. it wasn’t a small pistol for self-defence, it was a sniper rifle.

no-eul was drinking in her car again. it was one of those nights where they started recruiting guards again. she kept the rifle from the last game and is planning to bring it to this year’s game. dried tears were visible under the street lights on her face. she missed her family, even her husband. although she doesn’t have feelings anymore, she felt guilty leaving him and her child behind.

she lost track of time and looked at her phone, it read 9:30. she was late. she quickly started the engine and sped back home.

no-euro opened the door to find (name) standing there infront of her with her arms crossed. she had a angry and upset expression on her face. no-eul knew that this was about the time she got home. it was literally 10pm.

“i know, i’m sorry sweetheart. i lost track of time.” she closed the door behind her and locked it before grabbing (name)’s hands.

“that’s not what i’m upset about.” (name) said coldly.

no-eul was confused, what else was she upset about?

she started wrecking her brain for answers but she couldn’t find one.

“what are you upset about? if it’s someone that made you upset i’ll kill them.” no-eul said not so jokingly.

“yeah, of course you will.” (name) mumbled under her breath.

no-eul froze. had she found out her job in the games?

“tell me why, did i find a gun in your office? might i add a big gun as well.” (name) said.

oh shit. she found it.

no-eul had carelessly put it against the wall instead of hiding it.

no-eul sighed, she’s screwed.

“you’re right, i do kill people.”

(name) was shocked that she had actually admitted it.

“not for fun, for money. it’s another job i have.”

(name) thought that atleast she’s not doing it for fun, but earning money for them both.

“get out.” (name) said coldly.

no-eul was stunned as she stood there.

“what?” no-eul whimpered.

“i said get out no-eul.” the usual pet names were gone now.

no-eul swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. she opened the door and looked back expecting you to look at her. you didn’t. she closed the front door and walked down the stairs to go outside.

of course you wouldn’t look at her.

she opened her phone deciding to be brave and send a message to you.

“will you still love me?”

she sent it.

will you still love me?

read 11:00

she let out a shaky breath and closed her phone.

of course you wouldn’t.

not after that.

[sliced-peaches]

hitman!Haechan x reader | 1.2k | frenemies..?

he really has the best seat in the house tonight

💿 now playing: sour diesel - zayn // ordinary life- the weekend // zeal - tchami // igloo - kiss of life

a/n: I should be working on my wholesome jaehyun fic but I had this bouncing around in my brain since the tour trailer dropped and watched a bunch of action films. it’s coming soon, I promise. enjoy the beginning of something darker for now 😈

mentions of: MURDER, guns, violence, drugs, nothing really explicit but be warned. 127 members listening to haechan thirst over comms, red velvet Irene, idk I think that’s it

You’ve just walked into the rooftop lounge and it’s the highlight of Haechan’s day. He’s a rooftop away, eyeing you through the scope of a sniper rifle, and you’re stunning. The way you saunter through the crowd of dancing bodies makes every head turn, confidently swaying your hips as you head straight for the bar.

He’s never seen you in anything like this before, a little sparkly dress (if he could even call it that) covering little to nothing and a pair of pretty heels. It’s not really your style, but damn did you knock it out the park tonight. It almost makes him forget you could kill a man at least seven different ways unarmed.

Knowing you, you most likely still found a way to conceal a weapon under the solid one by one foot of fabric that made the entirety of the dress. But with his finger on a trigger he can’t let himself get too worked up over hypothetically trying to find a knife on your person.

“Got a visual on our angel,” he says into his earpiece. “She’s beautiful.”

He can feel Johnny rolling his eyes before said man’s voice crackles over.

“Thank god she’s not on comm, she’d rip you a new one.”

Honestly you could point a gun to his head and he’d probably cream his pants. He keeps that one to himself though, Johnny would probably cuss him out in three languages and throw him off his game.

“I love a woman who can kick my ass,” he dreamily sighs. It earns him a few curses from Yuta instead.

“Shut your weird ass up, targets moving.”

You sit at the bar, dress riding up just a bit when your ass touches the seat. The little extra inch of exposed skin is what really does it for him, like your entire back on display wasn’t enough. He can’t believe you look like this under your usual tact gear.

When the bartender takes your order, you tuck your hair behind your ear and point at a bottle behind him. The way you tilt your head slightly at him as him tripping over his feet, and Haechan grins. You were playing the role so well- this was the sweetest he’s ever seen you.

You were so cute while playing dumb and innocent.

When the team had to regroup after a botched run-in with this city’s most wanted drug lord, you and Doyoung had been adamant that none of the men on the team should engage with your target this time. Last time had been too close of a call for Johnny and Yuta- they got a little too up close and personal with the authorities, almost blowing everyone’s cover. The offensive, more direct tactics just weren’t cutting it and were getting too dangerous.

It was time to go on the defensive and try a more subtle approach, as Doyoung put it. And so they decided that one of the ladies would have to go undercover for this one.

Between you and Irene, it was decided that you’d be the one to go in. While they had said it was because you’d had more experience, it was really because Irene couldn’t pretend she liked men talking to her if her life depended on it.

At first, Haechan had been a little apprehensive.

“This guy can’t be that stupid, right?” He asked back at the hideout, cleaning a piece of his gun with a cloth.

It was a valid concern, even to you who disagreed with him often (sometimes just for funsies). You could do recon, you could blend in, but it had been a while since you purposely stuck out in the crowd. Would you be able to sell it?

But Jungwoo was quick to dismiss any doubts, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

“Men like that only care about two things: money and pussy. And they’d die for at least one of them. Throw a little something at him, I think you got this one in the bag.”

When the man of the hour walks in with his crew and you immediately catch his eye, Haechan feels it in his gut.

You were going to execute this flawlessly.

“Target spotted.”

Just like they predicted the man makes a beeline for the you while his men spread out in the crowd. You just sip out of a pretty glass and pretend that you’re none the wiser while you wait. You even throw in a little fake jump when he slides in next to you to ask what you’re drinking. Oldest line in the book.

What a loser.

Haechan watches in amusement as you bat your lashes at the man, flashing him the prettiest smile known to man. Serving yourself up to him on a platter.

He has no idea what kind of venom you have running through your veins.

Doyoung and Yuta check in over comms.

“We’re in position. Ready when you are.”

“She’s doing amazing, just a little longer.”

You continue to flirt with the target, throwing your head back in laughter at something he says while Haechan aims right between his eyes. He considers asking if whatever he said was really funny or not later, but that might be disrespectful to the dead.

“I have a clear shot.”

He stills as your hand runs up the man’s arm, stopping to rest on his shoulder.

“Wait for her signal.”

Then you slide out of the barstool, press up against him to whisper something in his ear. The mans eyebrows shoot to the sky.

Oh, how Haechan wishes he could be a fly on the wall instead of a sniper on a roof.

You begin to walk away from the bar, a hand intertwined with the targets as he brainlessly follows. Haechan waits patiently as you raise your free hand to the sky.

He sucks in a breath…

And there it is.

You take one small step to the left. He breathes out and takes the shot. One is all it takes.

“Got him.”

The target crumples to the floor.

“All right, let’s move!”

Chaos erupts, everyone ducking for cover and trying to escape as shots ring out. You quickly grab the gun out of the dead man’s holster and jump behind the bar to take cover. He expertly takes out someone who’s spotted you before they could chase after you.

Yuta and Johnny make quick work to clear the opposition as they make their way to you. With no one to answer to, the dead target’s crew is easy to take out or discourage altogether and soon the rooftop is cleared out.

Haechan stands up to get a better look. You stand there as Johnny checks you over, a scowl on your face when he laughs. The tall man points to where he stands on the roof, and you follow his arm to see Haechan waving frantically.

He waits with a shit eating grin on his face while Johnny passes you his earpiece.

“Fuck you, you got blood on my dress.”

“I’m sure with your cut you can buy a new one. But I’ll make it up to you.”

He howls when you flip him off.

[bambiesfics]

⊹ Tag! you’re it. ⊹

(5k wc!)

| SNEAK PEEK: “Fuck me. Almost forgot about her.” The brunette unslung the rifle over her shoulder and head. She threw it a small distance away from you two. The black Nula rifle skidded amongst the twigs, then stopped. You breathed a small sigh of relief amidst your mounting panic. Releasing the terror that it could go off while she fucked herself into you.

⊹ SUMMARY: The concept was simple really. It’s quite literally in the title of this fic. I’m sure you’re smart, reader. So I’m also sure you can deduce what she’s going to make you do. But in the rare chance you’re not that bright, I’ll help and spell it out for you.

You…need…to…run.

⊹ WARNINGS: Predator/prey kink. Strap-on use (reader receiving). Outdoor sex, very rough sex, mean as fuck!Dom Ellie, dacryphilia, ass-smacking, black-out, use of “cock” and “dick” and is referred to as Ellie’s, and other things you’ll have to read to see.

⊹ AUTHOR’S NOTE: Minors & puritans this is not the fic for you. Everyone else: make sure you read this at home. This is genuinely, not safe for work (or school!)

The truck skidded to a stop.

The acridness of burnt rubber twisted its way up your nose, reflexively making you scrunch. The russet haired brunette pulled the keys out of the ignition and slammed the truck's door shut. Her black converses made imprints onto the soft earth.

They were just a few of the many tracks to come.

The slam of the GMC door was like a boom in your head, yelling ‘WAKE UP!’

Laid beyond the car window was a terrifying picture of nature. The forest seemed like rows of shark’s teeth; jagged and everlong. Up along the bank, a crowded family of dark green spruce trees were huddled. Mottled like flecks against the horizon. Nothing could be seen but the green overlaid on top of the clear sky. The trees circumferenced along the bank like a protective dome, surrounding the truck.

This was her idea.

The brunette circled the clearing, her bangs blew softly in the wind. She fixed the M-11 sniper across her back, pulling the dual tabs of her corset webbing to tighten it to her torso. The NULA sniper was heavy. A matte black gun with a wide eyed scope. It was Ellie’s favorite. For hunting; both people and game.

Your girlfriend had known for several years that she’d never be a fan of small firearms. She reveled in the kickback of a sniper.

Firearms.

Running.

Rifle.

Chasing.

Polaroids of memory flooded your thoughts. Snapshots of Ellie pleading relentlessly to convince you to let her use you. Use your adrenaline and terror to scratch a deep deep itch within her. Like a flea ridden dog, your girlfriend had a parasite. And the parasite was the chase. It was a primal itch. One that’d been there since she was a younger girl. It teased along the blurred edges of sociopathy and sexuality.

If you’d really paid attention, you would’ve noticed that Ellie was a little…off. There was an aggression that ran congruent with her boyish teasing and fighting. An intuitive itch at the back of your brain often concluded that Ellie had always wanted to bend your arm back a little bit deeper during play fights. Because she too often enjoyed how quickly your laugh crumpled into yelps.

She’d let out a sudden chuckle during really tense moments, but you were subtly aware that Ellie could, and slyly tried, to get a bit more intense with the floor pinning, with the wall traps, with her power plays. And you suspected she liked it.

Ellie was an awe-inspiring girlfriend, so caring and so sweet; so tender. But you still couldn’t gauge where that hidden characteristic in her temperament came from.

Just how far would she really want to take it?

The surface tension of those memories rippled into obscurity like disturbed water. Leaving you to face the bitter nip of the cool air, and the earthy pine notes that carried itself on the wind.

Ellie had been spending her time studying you from across the distance. Trying to pick apart your thoughts from your micro-expressions. She debated on if the little crease between your brow was tense fear, or if it was exhaustion. Common sense advised her that it was exhaustion; you two had only come out here just an hour after dawn, naturally you’d feel drowsy or irate.

And that pleased her.

Tired would work in her favor. Tired would make you sloppy.

Ellie stepped deeper into the clearing. From your position in the passenger seat, you could see her attempt to feel for the direction of the wind, noting which direction it was blowing her hair. She used the sweep of the wind’s blow on her hair to navigate the direction of which path, in the dense forest, would give her the least resistance.

She planned to avoid that path.

She didn’t want this to be easy.

She didn’t speak. She didn’t have too. Ellie turned around slowly and rooted her feet into the soil. In spite of the distance, her gaze was piercing. She didn’t need to shout, but it was finally time to remove yourself from the safety of the truck.

You steadied yourself on the inside of the door, and used the pane to brace your knees before you dropped from out of the truck.

The sun was a high, white gold. Planting an opalescent sheen on the forest underbrush. It grew brighter and warmer the further behind you left the truck.

Towering above the underbrush, were thick alpine trees; the young and the old. Some of them were beyond being old, and were solidly antiquated. Likely as old as the entire forest itself.

Those alpines were the type of old that’d existed in that forest longer than Jackson town. The type of trees that had seen things not a soul nor an eye would have witnessed. Things, no history book had dared to make a record of.

And today, they saw you.

The sun was shining in her eyes. And she returned back to it her own venomous gaze.

Ellie’s ink moth tattoo moved each time her fingers steadied themselves on the bony juts of her hips. Her evergreen eyes blinked back down to study you once more.

In your timid mannerisms she microdosed on the pleasure of the run to come.

Your back straightened at her voice.

“To set this off, I ran the path six times since last sunday. Shouldn’t take you no longer than ten minutes, fifteen at your slowest. You take twenty minutes, and I come looking for you. Got that?”

Her eyes thinned, then relaxed.

“We’ve done similar patrols around the west wing of Jackson.”

“Like the group patrols and stuff right?”

Your answer was less than stellar.

She itched to grin at your reply, but killed it. Schooling her features back into a placid poker face. “Yeah sure. Those’ll definitely prepare you for today.”

Ellie started stalking behind you now. Eyeing the shoes you chose, how you shifted your weight from leg to leg, how your sleeves were longer than your fingers, and how your fingers fidgeted with its hem.

She pulled back from you. She pressed herself deeper into the gray and dull overcast from the trees. Shadowed by their height and mass, she shouted.

“You get a 120 second head start!”

The air was electric, like power lines running above you. Your fingers twitched, and your stomach tightened. And like a firing gun shooting into the air, she growled.

“RUN!”

Your feet pounded at the earth as your skin braced the whipping wind. Jackson’s forest was miles upon piles of jade. It was a claustrophobic cornucopia of trees. The underbrush scraped your legs with each step you took on the illuminated path of the forest floor. Light speckled from the patterned leaves above you, it looked like a kaleidoscopic.

The earth beneath your shoes was beaten flat from the steps of hikers and runners long before you ever came sprinting down. You’d hiked this path, but hiking and sprinting were light years apart. And the staggering imbalance of the terrain was sending shock waves up your legs. You braced it, a mantra looping in your head like your very life depended on.

Just run.

Your breaths were starting to sound heavier and heavier. Worsened by the regret that was creeping up all the same. Jackson had a system of 5am running patrols that were outlined by Maria on the town’s bulletin. Patrols that you could’ve put your name down for. Ellie did them often, just a short lap around Jacksons gates. She always told you it was only “15 minutes tops”, yet you always regarded that time as an extra 15 minutes to sleep in. Realization dawned on you just as quick as your feet turned around a large spruce tree.

That 15 minutes of running truly did add up.

Just run.

A climbing crescendo of snapped twigs and rustling leaves was all that could be heard whipping about. Louder and louder. Heavier and heavier. An orchestra of sounds; of your heartbeat. Of a burning pain from a persons forceful sprint. Someone was panting, fighting, clawing their way out of Jackson’s forest. You were the someone, but your legs were growing tired.

Your calves were burning as your pace increased, the ache was clawing into the muscles in your lower legs like hot iron. The pain bloomed into your thighs and coiled itself into the pit of your lower belly. It left your breath wheezing and dry.

Sweat broke out on your hairline. Perspiration that would drip down to sting your eyes if you didn’t get home in time. You needed to get home fast. Just as long as you got there before her. Just as long as you beat Ellie to Jackson’s gates, you’d be fine.

All you could do was just run.

You slowed to a stop and cleared a log, you straddled it, holding the large body to steady yourself, before swinging your leg off and hopping back onto the ground. You weren’t nimble. Your girlfriend would’ve cleared the trunk with just the push of her left arm. But you were desperate, anything to not be her prey.

Just run.

Your ears picked up on it, before your brain could process it. The sound was unmistakable. Those were Ellie’s footsteps.

Clearing the log had closed the space between you. This chase was a burning thread. Growing shorter as the distance between you two also grew shorter. Ellies footsteps sounded heavier, more hurried. She could finally hear you too.

You pushed past the haze of pain and ran out of the forest, onto the rocky asphalt in front of the abandoned highway. You slid down the ditch, scraping your palms along before tumbling into a shaky sprint. The abandoned cars in the ditch were as much obstacles as they were protection. But up ahead, growing bigger with every step, were the gates; pillars of protection and strength.

The same voice whispered sharply into your concious, reminding you to

just run.

The only caveat was that Ellie’s conscience was telling her the

exact same thing.

She was behind you. But you couldn’t care where or how far Ellie was. You’d deduced that the strewn jagged pebbles had slowed her down. Converses didn’t work nearly as well on rocky terrain. The rhombus sole could tightly pack gravel and pebbles inside of it, which made for an uneven run.

Jackson’s steep wood gates appeared even larger. A good — no — a great thing. To be dwarfed by Jackson’s gates meant that you were near them. Nearer to the town than you had been a mere minute ago; yet again, still with no Ellie in tow.

You relaxed your sprint into a cursory jog. The relief that coursed through you was electrifying. A tired grin threatened to leap off your face. You were burning, but the chase wasn’t nearly as hard as you had suspected it to be, and for that your nervous system was flooded with relief.

You were so close. Just a few more steps and the lap would be cleared.

Ellie shouldn’t have given you that head start. Jesus, that girl could be so arrogant.

The dual gates were close enough to feel their shade. You took another deep breath, and stretched your arms out. The breeze cooled your skin. The relief from the concluded chase blew a spirit of new life into you. You were done! you had won Ellie’s sick little game of tag.

Now, what you would give to head down to the tavern and ask for a mug of sweet tea and some soft brea—

—Ellie slammed into you, crumpling you to the ground. A tiny yelp ripped out of you like a pathetic puppy. She dug her elbow into the small of your back to put you down, before switching tactics. She instead chose to slide her hand up and grip the back of your neck. She shoved your face into the ground. Holding you down in submission.

“Tag. you’re it.” She giggled.

Your shocked scream was muffled by the ground. Like some hunted doe, only your eyes could communicate. And they strained painfully to the right, hoping to see what the hunter was doing. The pain in the base of your spine ebbed as Ellie removed the puncture of her left knee from your back. She dropped into a crouch. But her hands slid down your back, then down your thighs, then to your knees where she gripped the sides of the joints and forcefully shoved them apart.

In the quiet of the dawn, you were more than a sight to see. You were a picture of desire to drink in, and a terrifying desperation possessed Ellie.

You should’ve ran faster.

Ellie inched all ten knuckles under the band of your jeans, she struggled to shove down your pants and underwear, grunting curses under her breath.

“No way in hell you were convinced you actually had a chance to win against me. I don’t think you realize how much I had to hold myself back. Couldn't let it be that easy for myself.”

Your breath came out ragged.

Ellie loved that.

She barely managed to shove the waist of your pants underneath the crease of your ass cheeks. But seeing as what she managed left her with just the necessary amount of space she needed to work with, it was certainly good enough.

“Honest question.” She paused for a moment and surveyed you. Her hand curled in the air “just to get this straight, were you jogging the entire lap or were you actually sprinting it? I just couldn’t tell.” She mocked.

The sneer her lips curled into was wicked.

But her violence even moreso.

Ellie slapped your ass harshly, intently drinking in the recoil. You yelped and jerked across the dirt. She lunged across to clamp the back of your neck, eyes piercing.

“Stay.”

The sound of a zipper being pulled down made you struggle in her grasp. Your head was scrambling from side to side to better see her. Picking up strewn leaves to tickle the bottom of your lips.

Ellie was having none of it. The fist on your neck squeezed tighter.

She tsk’d next to your ear, your first and now your final warning. She refused to repeat herself a second time.

If only you could’ve seen what she saw. Ass up, face down, bent like some bitch in heat. You were presenting yourself. Your left cheek was squished against the grass and leaves. And your ass was tempting and teasing itself in her face, globes split apart.

God, you didn’t know, but you’d looked so pathetic. Like you were just waiting to be topped. And if that was what you really wanted, then who was Ellie to deny you that?

A wicked grin bloomed onto her face, replacing the sneer.

One phrase boomed in her head.

…my bitch.

Ellie’s.

You were made to be Ellie’s bitch.

Ellie pulled out the harnessed cock, it had a real fat, girthy shaft. With a long vein running along the underside. She drooled at the fantasy of how it’d tug against your tight rim. She slid the dick atop the split of your ass cheeks. Rutting it up and down. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she swore she saw you roll your hips onto it.

“Fuck me. Almost forgot about her.” The brunette unslung the rifle over her shoulder and head. She threw it a small distance away from you two. The black rifle skidded amongst the twigs, then stopped. You breathed a small sigh of relief amidst your mounting panic. Releasing the terror that it could go off while she fucked herself into you.

Holding her dick against your ass really let her hips take a break from the weight of it. You were such a good doe, letting her warm it between the globes of your ass cheeks. Taking her thumb and forefinger, Ellie angled her tip down, She gave shallow thrusts, reveling in the wet slide of her cock against your labia. She just needed a few more ruts against the slick, to get it as wet as she wanted.

Nimble as ever, the hunter slightly leaned back onto her calves. The bulbous tip of her cock inched back and dragged itself down the expanse of your labia, from clit to hole. Until it caught against the rim of your hole. It barely nudged inside. But the feeling of the tip pressing against it, reflexively made your hole clench a kiss on its head. Ellie whistled at the scene.

Heaven on earth is what this was to her.

“Would you look at that? You want it huh? Can tell by how you’re sucking it in.”

It turned Ellie on so much, seeing her dick just barely touch your hole, just prolonging what you both knew was to come. She was feeling a little violent again, so Ellie cracked another sharp slap on the meat of your ass. The heat and twinge from it, made your eyes widen. A blistering handprint was left where she slapped you. Tears started burning at the back of your eyes and you gasped in a panic. Your reactive jerk from her smack, involuntarily slipped the first inch of her cock into your hole. Your slick coated just the head. Wetness was slowly starting to slip down your walls. And it dripped past the seal of your vagina and coated the top of Ellie’s tip.

Not even pornography could compare; because to the eyes of anyone who could see, the scene between you and her was in every sense of the word: obscene.

You struggled against the grass again. Giving her a beautiful performance of a hunt gone well. Doe-eyed prey shaking fitfully against the grass. Ellie’s intimidating presence dwarfed everything in its path like a dark shadow.

She draped her chest over your back and laid her cheek to rest atop your planted head. Ellie slowly lined up her freckled lips with your ears. It could’ve almost looked like a caress; a sleepy embrace between two lovers. Where one whispered ‘good morning, you up honey?’, and the other grumbled lowly ‘mhm. Just 5 more minutes my love.’

But nothing that came out of her mouth was sweet.

Ellie whispered very lowly.

“I’m begging you—to try to fight me off.”

And with that, and a ghost of a kiss to the shell of your ear; Ellie thrusted the shaft inside, groaning her own pleasure over the shout you yelped into the ground. A sudden intrusion, as alarming as that was, could only be described as malice.

She slowly pumped in more inches of her cock until she felt a strong resistance. She kept testing it, pounding sharp pumps to see if there would be any further give. Each attempt pulled a muffled “n’moh it won’ fit phleese” out of you.

You dug into the grass.

Ellie’s beautiful features transformed into a quizzical frown. Her bushy eyebrows, her full pink lips, and her usually cherubic cheeks, wrinkled in to display a strong feeling of ... .disappointment. There were at least a few inches left of her hungry cock that weren’t warmed inside that slick tight pussy hole.

Why couldn’t you take all of it?

She furrowed her brows, dug her nails tightly into the fat of your hips, and hurriedly bullied her girthy cock into you. She couldn’t help but revel in the way each thrust pulled a yelp out of you like a kicked bitch.

Maybe those weren’t yelps from your lips, but instead muffled moans….

Ellie couldn’t really tell, and regardless, she definitely didn’t care.

Her thrusts were heavy, punchy. There was no space to spare inside of you. Her shaft was molding your hole to fit around its thickness. The cockhead squished against your cervix, pulling a new type of soreness with each pull of it.

“Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Uhn!”

You drooled on the grass. You took the rhythmic pounding up your abused cunt. Your puffy cervix was leaving wet kisses on the tip of Ellie’s dick, which pulled even more slick from the tiny donut.

“That’s right. Uhn! Uhn! Uhnn! for me baby. Cry just like that. You like being tackled and fucked rough don’t you? Sloppy cunt.”

She mocked.

She was right, it was so sloppy. Your walls were practically drooling along her shaft; and trust her, she could feel it.

Ellie slowly pulled her cock out, only to marvel upon the gorgeous coating of slick that sparkled in the early sunlight. Your milk had pooled along the veins and ridges of her shaft.

There was a creamy mousse ring that wrapped around the base of her balls, frothing from the thrusts.

Ellie had a perverted temptation to taste a bit of that milky coating. The thing was, it wasn’t new to her, she’d gotten a taste of it many times before.

Chuckling to herself, she slid it back in. But with complete knowledge of how intensely full you’d feel, Ellie leaned down to drape her chest across your back once more.

She positioned her torso atop yours, digging her fingers into the dirt on either side of your head to get a solid grip. Dried leaves and grit collected under her fingernails and painted them specks of amber and brown. Her sweaty bangs were sticking to her face now. And they curved around her hairline as she barked a laugh at each rough pounding you took, like her sweet girl.

“So fucking—”

Thrust.

“Fun”

Thrust.

“Watc-hing you—”

Thrust.

Her voice cracked, pounding you was bumping her swollen clit just right.

“Run like.”

Thrust.

“Some weak little prey.”

She replaced her grip in the dirt with finding purchase on top of your hands. She slid her fingers in between yours and interlocked them. She squeezed your fingers between her own, you weakly squeezed hers back. The hunter above you, found just the right footing to put her full body weight into fucking you, and now you felt the stretch and fullness everywhere, everywhere.

No space inside of you was spared.

Who knew hunters could be so mean?

“You feel that? Is it stretching? I wanna know if it burns.” She gruffed.

Yes, yes, and yes. A weepy eyed ‘yes’ to all three.

All you could feel was her. Her cock was nudging past the sensitive swell of your g-spot, bruising the area with her pounding.

How could you not feel it?

Every ridge of her dick pulled muted squeals out of you. And despite how much your neglected clit cried for attention and touch from between its sloppy lips, there was a fiercely intense pleasure that radiated around your body. And the evidence was the strings of glossy slick drooled onto the grass patch below you two. The same slick ran down the underhaft of her cock as she pumped inside you, and collected at the base of her heavy balls. Balls that were building a bruise on your ass, with each stinging connect of her hips to your butt.

Ellie’s sighs and moans were pitching a variation of high and low tones. Huffing like a dog in heat because of how good it felt to be inside of you.

God, the strap was fucking her back. Her brain was growing fuzzy, heavy, needy.

Catching her prey to fuck it, had her mind unraveling.

Who was the bitch now?

“H-hey.” She breathed out

“Your sloppy hole feels s’good. Tiny, tiny pussy clamping on my cock. You making me work for it baby? Work hard to fu— fuck inside of you.”

She screwed her eyes shut. The intensity grew stronger.

“I’ll work as hard as I need to stu-stuff your sloppy holes” she slurred. Her green irises rolled to the back of her head.

Ellie’s grip on top of your hand considerably tightened, which had seemed almost impossible, given their already iron lock.

Ellie rolled her pale hips in shallow circles, grinding inside of you. The friction against your g-spot was dizzying, and from where your nose was shoved in the grass, you grew lightheaded.

As Ellie’s cock made your walls plump and swell, Your vision was slowly growing spotty. Little black dots were dancing across the expanse of your vision. It was unfortunate how little you could breathe, because the barks of pain and whimpers of pleasure that you wanted to release would’ve made Ellie cum on the spot right then.

“Love your pretty pussy. It’s pretty, it’s all mine. All for me. Tiny hole that I get to stuff full of dick—wanna chase and stuff you every day. I wanna be the only one in-inside you. Does my dick hurt your tummy? Want it to hurt you so good. Sorry, m’sorry, but I-I want it to hurt so good.”

Ellie was frantic and erratic. Fever brained and pussy drunk beyond the horizon. She sloppily slurred all her little fantasies in your ear.

The edges of your vision were graying out, your eyes glazed. If Ellie had noticed, she didn’t care.

Instead she obsessed herself with the way she was molding a home for her thick cock in your puffy walls. The same walls were puffy and deep pink inside.

Each thrust from her slender hips was like a zing that dragged pleasure down the ribbed walls. Pressure was building up severely in your tummy, and you were overcome with a strong urge to clamp.

You choked your last whimpering moan into the dirt, and finally let the tension go. Slick milky cum seeped from the seal of your sensitive hole and burst onto the base of her dick. It was frothing and glossy.

Your eyelids grew suddenly heavy. Your vision was tunneling, there was a gray and fuzzy halo around it that obstructed its clarity. You could only make out blurry shapes and colors, only the soft light of the day, just before you relaxed and sleepily went limp.

You had been fucked into a heavy slumber, yet your lower half was still being held up by the girl with the cock inside of you.

She didn’t let up.

Ellie kept fucking you. Frantic and greedy for her own orgasm in your pussy. She needed to be inside of it just a little longer.

She picked up her pace, relishing in the sweet feel of the cockbase smacking her clit. Ellie felt the same pressure in her own vagina rising. Her clit was just as swollen, just as puffy, just as wet and glossy as your hole was on the inside. And Ellie sought a few more angry thrusts to get her over the edge. She snapped her hips forward, and each time you jerked forward in the grass, with your lips forming an “o” and your eyes gently closed.

Thrust.

“Fuck!”

Thrust.

“Please please please.”

Thrust.

“—Prett-pretty my pretty pussy all mine.”

Thrust.

“Sososo tight.”

Thrust.

“Ughhhh!…”

A groan grizzled from her throat.

Ellie squirted spurts of her release down her thighs. Her eyeballs rolled backwards until they were white and veiny, and her hips stuttered with each squirt.

She came all over her skinny jeans.

Her chest rose and fell dramatically as she sucked in deep gulps of air. Ellie’s toned abs contracted with her breathing, clenching and relaxing. Over and over did the muscles dance until her breathing slowly steadied itself.

The hunter pulled out of you and tucked herself back inside her jeans. She barely zipped her pants up, leaving the slick base of her veiny dick still visible to the world’s eyes. She couldn't find it within herself to care, not even a tiny bit.

The NULA rifle was strewn amongst the grass, and its owner walked the short distance to pick it up from the grass. She picked it clean. Wiping the dirt off of it, and blowing off the stuck grass. She stationed the NULA by her hip again, and walked back towards your limp body.

Crescent moon sharpie doodles were scribbled onto the dirty toe box of her converses. The doodles you’d drawn for her one frigid October evening, an entire calendar year ago.

Ellie had found that so endearing, but even then she had been too shy to admit it at the time.

She surely wasn’t shy now.

Despite the fact that her preferred celestial body was still stars, she still held your insistence on decorating her shoes, near and dear to her heart. It had been one of those slow and scary, ‘I think I’m falling in love with you’ moments, that had pivoted the direction of your relationship, unbeknownst to either of you.

Ellie took those same converses and nudged your shoulder. Several times in fact.

In your deep slumber, your body had only moved with the motion of her foot.

A whistle twinkled from her pout.

“….And you’re out cold.”

She reached for your arm “okay come on—get up.” And slung you over her shoulder. It was awkward, it wasn’t easy. The sniper wanted about as much space on Ellie’s slender frame as you did. But she had to make it work. Better than patrollers finding you in the grass with your ass split wide open and your pussy dripping slick like a snail. So she dragged her feet as she carried you, and held the gun parallel to her body.

But she managed to make it work.

She managed all the way to the gates. where she slipped through the back. Your privacy was something she could never risk, no matter how much she reveled in this game.

She managed into Jackson town.

And then into her house, and then into her room, and then into her bed where she tucked you under the covers, so you could sleep the adrenaline and full body orgasm off.

The lull in her messy room was quiet.

It felt like no more than a warm hub, for you and your bold lover. Ellie was tired to her bones, but she worked on the keys of her guitar as you slept.

You’d mewled in your sleep from time to time. And she felt slightly guilty, slightly. She knew you’d wake up just fine. With a bad limp and maybe an attitude to last the day, but still mostly fine.

Ellie dropped her chin onto the guitar, and rolled herself back and forth in her chair.

She mulled over it in her mind, how it’d be kinder of her to just…pull back from time to time. Just so you weren’t wincing in your sleep from the ache. But then she pouted; unsure of herself.

Didn’t you like it when she was mean?

She plucked a key, F major, then B minor. A momentary pause, before her nails hesitantly strummed the strings. They still didn’t sound right. So she tuned them again.

She broke her gaze away from the strings to briefly check on you. You were a sniffling lump underneath her sky blue sheets.

Her chest squeezed at the image.

She knew it was sappy, it was lame. It was the feeling of impassioned affection; of love.

“I know you’ll love this one, whenever you decide to wake up…dork.” She teased.

Ellie strummed the string once again, meditating on the key. She cleared her throat, and whisper-sung her favorite part.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help…” she sucked in a breath, and her cheeks dusted pink. Embarrassed even with no one to bare witness. But this song had best encompassed the ocean of her feelings.

“…Falling in love with you.”

She dropped her head against the body of her guitar.

And smiled into it.

-fin-

[mrsvalentinefucker1]

Support class dick hc, kinks + How they fuck

Cw: knives, rough sex, blood

Sniper

•Dick: I’d say about 6, 6 1/2 inches if I’m being generous here. Definitely not thin, it’s got some girth to it that’s for sure. He never ever clean shaves he thinks it looks weird (he’s not wrong) so he’ll definitely just trim up a little or maybe not at all. Wild man moment. Plus, he kinda loves the scruffy look he has going on. I know everyone says he’s uncircumcised and i definitely agree with that. Tip is not red but definitely a deep pink, it’s cute. Two visible veins, one on the top of his shaft and one underneath it. So he’s very very sensitive.

•How he fucks: Rough. He likes to be fucked hard and to fuck hard. His favorite position to see you in is definitely mating press or doggy style (with a knife to your throat) he loves to see your face contort with pleasure and fear. He’s very vocal i mean haven’t you heard his voice lines. Come on. He loves telling you how great of a fuck toy you can be when you aren’t being a cunt or a teasing slut. He doesn’t have a favorite place to cum really.. Whenever he gets his rocks off is where it stays so.

•Kinks

Praise: definitely, but backhanded praise “look at you, good little slut.” Stuff like that you know?

Predator vs prey play: I know this is so basic but oh my goodness he LOVE LOVE LOVEEEESSS to chase you down and just fuck your brains out if your skull. Like I said, he likes it rough. (Me next)

Knife play: Ofc this is one of them. That mf is a literal animal. He just likes the power trip tbh. Having your life in his very hands, though he’d never do anything to ever hurt it.. it’s hot to watch your fearful eyes and if you enjoy it just as much as he does, you’re in for a ride of dirty talk and rough hard sex.

Public sex: touching you while in public. Something about it. Maybe it’s bc he likes to tease and see how long you can last without gripping his arm while shaking and begging to cum or maybe it’s because nobody around you can (probably) tell how good he’s pleasing you, and how they’ll never get a chance to touch a wonderful lady like you the way he does. Who knows

BREEDING: Though he is scared to have kids and will take every procedure to make sure you won’t get pregnant, he still loves to just cum inside of you all day, everyday. (Same sniper.)

Stepping: he probably likes to be stepped on. He’ll buy you beautiful, expensive heels just so you can step on him or press against his hard cock. (Meow.)

Spy

•Dick: solid 5 1/2, it’s not too thin but not exactly thick.. it stretches you very very nicely that is for sure. He trims it constantly. He is never out of order, he takes too much pride in himself to let it grow out like that wretched bushman. Uncircumcised, his dick skin is like.. oddly soft and velvety. One small vein on the side of his cock, it’s nice. Tip, I’d say, is a light cute pink.

•How he fucks: He either makes love for a long time or he plows you hard. Usually both. He rides the fine line very well. While he goes at it soft and caring, he teases you a lot. Vibrators, toys, his finger, his mouth. He just likes to tease you a lot.. but once he slips in, its game over for him. He can’t help it. He has to fuck you like an animal in heat.

•Kinks

Lingerie for sure. He loves to either buy them for you to give you his card to buy yourself some and then surprise him with it! (Will probably write a fic based off this)

Spanking or brat taming: He will absolutely wreck your ass if you talk back to flirt with ANYONE. He will spank you so hard you’ll become a babbling mess.

Body worship: Giving or receiving, he loves to tease you by kissing down your gorgeous body and leave small bites all over you. Nipping, kissing, nipping, kissing. You know. Backhanded kisses

Medic

•Dick: He’s German and from my experience, they’re packing serious heat. 7 inches hard. Argue with the wall because I will not listen. Tummy bulge will happen so be prepared. Much like spy he keeps himself in check, trims every couple of days. Circumcised, dark pink with a red hue tip. It’s sensitive as hell. No visible veins until he gets to fucking, then they all start popping out. Thick. Hard stretch that’s for sure.

•How he fucks: They all fuck hard but him.. dear lord. Pray and buckle up because he will bruise your cervix. He pounds. He doesn’t even fuck, HE SLAMS. bed? broken, operating table? broken, desk? Broken twice. He loves to just fuck you into a mindless mess. That’s all

•Kinks

Roleplay: He loves to roleplay anything really. Nurse and doctor, doctor and patient, boss and intern, things like that.

Knife play: scalpels are going to be pressed against your skin.. which leads me to my next kink hc

Blood kink: Licks the blood off of your wounds or the small cuts he marks your body with. If you have a period, best believe he will be begging to fuck you on it

“Meine Liebe! It feels so much better when you’re on your period, it also relieves cramps too!”