#You ain’t no Top Gun huh…

[29625]

I’m currently watching Suiyou Doudeshou (水曜どうでしょう) which is a Japanese cult classic travel show from mid 90s-early 00s featuring four (idiot) guys, and they get assigned rooms with double beds all the time.

ALL THE TIME.

(Well, something about Suzui-san/Misutaa screams girlypop loud n proud so I’m not really surprised. Source: my gaydar.)

So…Slimav with “only one bed” arch, soon? Maybe they (+Ice, of course) travel to Las Vegas or somewhere, and there are two rooms but one is a single bed room and the other is like a (barely) double bed room. Sli and Mav just lost so bad at the casino (plus Mav lost his wallet) so Ice is like man you losers can just cuddle on the single bed while I dominate the bigass mattress and they are like no, please have mercy.

A double bed.

Well, Sli and Mav—they are super good friends at this point. They hit off pretty well and they may or may not have gotten attached to each other.

Sli would be so stoked, a sleepover in a fancy hotel! But Mav? Oh god he’s just an awkward mess. (Guys, is it gay to want to cuddle with a buddy on a double bed like my other buddy joked earlier?)

Bonus points if Slider is feeling it, too—but he’s just too repressed as a gay man in the military he keeps shaking it off, trying to convince it’s just a phase for Mav’s part—until that short dark handsome bastard drops the L bomb.

[cloveroctobers]

UPSIDE DOWN — [October Randoms!] 🧡

A/N: just a few little blurbs basically inspired by this TikTok trend. S/o to Jacob Scipio & Madelaine Petsch’s video being the first I’ve seen! Thought it be would cute to write something real quick surrounding a few characters I’m loving rn 😜

WARNINGS: if you don’t know me by now, language! + suggestive themes, & wlw!

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ARMANDO:

You’d bug him about doing it but he wouldn’t budge. He just didn’t see the point until you started to challenge his strength. Once you did that, that undermining shit that’s when you pushed a nerve. He’ll plot against you, and catch you off guard, maybe when you’re in the bathroom doing a night or morning routine.

He’ll sneak right up behind you, crouching before he pops up, making you gasp and flail around as he flips you upside down in your PJ’s. He’ll hold you there for a second, smirking down at you but you can’t see that since he’s pulling your ass up over his left shoulder, holding onto your ribcage and providing you with a nice stretch.

“Arman!” You yell, hands reaching out to the floor—just in case—with your lip balm now rolling against the tile floor, “okay we get it, you’re Hercules. Put me down now.”

“Talk to me nice from now on, okay mami?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You mutter, “who needs Pilates when I got you?”

He snorts as he spins you around the back of his neck, taking careful hold of your hips before setting you back down on your own feet. You hold onto his hand that’s resting on your right hip and with a huff you say, “now we need to do that again for the camera.”

Armando lightly pushes you back to the sink, “nope. I’m getting in bed to watch the game, sorry not sorry the world missed out on these guns…but at least you didn’t, huh?” He winks at you before kissing his bare muscles.

ANGEL:

You’re on the thicker side so when you showed these videos to your man one night when you’re lounging in bed, finding how cute and fun they were Angel says with a scoff, “I can do that shit. They ain’t special.”

With a sigh and a nod you say, “I’m sure you can. Most of the ones they always show at the top makes it seem like it’s for the petites though.”

Angel, who’s been lounging on his elbow, furrows his brows at your words from over your shoulder, “Whatchu mean by that?”

Then his phone is ringing off the hook and he has to meet the rest of his brothers in the middle of the night but a kiss to your lips and a promise that this, “conversation ain’t over,” is said to you before he leaves.

Honestly you forgot about that conversation as a week went by. When you show up to the club to drop something off for Angel that he left at home, he’s outside getting ready to head over to his bike until he spots your car.

He greets you with a scratchy kiss to your cheek, thanking you for the item he left behind this morning. Angel then tells you to get your camera out, much to your confusion.

“We’re gonna film that cutesy shit you were talking about last week before you get outta here. C’mon.” He waves you back to his bike, while you’re still frowning, “I don’t got all day, querida. Get your sexy ass over here.”

You get the extra tripod that’s in your backseat and set it up a nice distance from his bike. Of course Angel wanted a shot of the bike in the frame as he stood off to the side of it, hands clasped right in front of him as you back up towards him.

The countdown is heard and just in time, Angel’s tatted hands are right on your waist flipping you and walking around with you a bit with his middle finger raised towards the camera. You’re laughing just as he’s bringing you upright and you spin around to hold onto his chest, catching your breath.

“Let me know when we go, viral.” He smirks, hands slipping down to squeeze your backside and kisses your lips.

CANE:

“Oh, okay now I’m really not doin’ that shit,” Cane replies with a side eye, after you cut whatever game he was playing off.

Your hands are on your hips, “and why the hell not? Scared you’re gonna drop me on my head?”

Cane chuckles, “nah, I’m convinced somebody in your family already did.”

“Fuck you and your bug eyes.”

“word? So now I’m ugly?”

You shrug as you step out of the living room in the penthouse, annoyance was heavy in your tone, “you said it, not me.”

Cane rolled his eyes, tossing the controller onto the couch, “aight don’t tell me you’re about to have a funky ass attitude with me now all because I said I don’t want to do this dumbass challenge?”

You’re in the kitchen, continuing to fix yourself something to eat, “you think it’s dumb, fine. I’ll just find another man who can do the job properly anyway.”

“…what?” Cane turns his eyes into slits, “another who?” He pressed, pushing off the couch to meet you in the kitchen.

You bit back a smirk as you put your back to Cane with a sigh and pushed off the counter to open the fridge back up, “you heard me. Maybe you don’t want to do it because you can’t…I know you don’t like seeming weak in front of me and I accept that—

“Fuck all that.” Cane sucks his teeth, “get over here, you’re not about to play in my face tonight.”

You flirt, “I thought you liked it when i put it in your face?”

“Cute,” Cane licks his bottom lip before waving you over with one hand, “Now show me what I need to do.”

And he always learned fast, holding you up in the air with one arm and shoots a grin at the camera before talking his shit down at you, then hides his face behind your body again. In cane fashion, he shook his face against your ass before walking over to cut the camera, so he can show you just what no other man couldn’t do.

TERRY:

You’re out biking together and decided to take a break, surrounded by trees that were bigger than the man of your dreams. Thankfully Terry was down for a water break because the heat was still rising—even though it was October— y’all lived in the south and didn’t need either of you to pass out from the heat.

Terry was usually calm cool and collected but he liked to flex every now and then, plus he already agreed to doing the, “challenge,” he spun you to face him, sharp green eyes already set on you. Before your eyebrow could lift at what he was thinking in that strong willed brain of his, the count down was started and he bends while not taking his eyes off you.

At the last minute he spins you back by the hips before trailing his hands up your sides first, then yanks you upside down, lifting you above his shoulder instead of just at his torso, which meant work for you to keep your legs straight, then he starts to lower you by your waist and then up again as if you’re his own personal bench press. Letting him have his moment, grunts and all being heard as he stares at the camera straight-faced, you’re the one to tap out just before the video finishes.

Once you’re back on your feet, you meet Terry’s eyes with a roll of yours followed by a pant, “show off.”

“Now it’s my turn.” His lips twitch as you glanced behind yourself because…who was he talking to?

“I love you but I’m not about to break my arms for you.” You say, while Terry leans forward to kiss your forehead with a chuckle.

Then with a slap to your backside, which definitely stung, he nods his head towards your bikes and says calmly, “You’re gonna have to put those legs and arms to work still. I just saw a brown bear five miles back and some feces about a mile back so…i think break time is over.”

Snatching up your tripod with the swiftness, you lowered it and shoved it in your bag as you side eyed Terry who’s waiting for you on his bike, earphone already in one ear, “I hate your calmness so much at times and one of those times happens to be right now, if i wasn’t scared, I’d kick your ass.”

“That doesn’t sound like a thank you,” Terry says leaning over his bike, “I just gave you a little happiness and now here you are, threatening me.”

It was giving, “help the bear!” And you weren’t with it!

You nod your head vigorously, “Yeah that’s right because we could have done this at home!” You kick off and start peddling, “so now I’m gonna have to kick your ass on this bike and beat you home. So you better keep up, Richmond!”

“Yes ma’am, i will,” he says easily keeping pace and following behind you as you take the lead down the bumpy pathway, “you know i got your back, front, and all sides.”

Scoffing over your shoulder at Terry’s attempt to flirt with you right now, you work hard checking every angle just like you were trained to do and always watch your back, not because you had doubts that Terry couldn’t keep up with you, you always wanted to watch his back as well—especially if a damn grizzly bear had the potential to knock you both upside down.

…later when you both made it safely home and were lounging after a shared shower, Terry rolls his head to press against your temple after placing a few kisses against your skin, “you know there wasn’t a bear right?”

“Excuse me?” You feel your eye twitch.

“You never know though.” Terry states, “best to be prepared.”

Too exhausted you reply, “you know what…I’m not going on anymore survivor bullshit adventures with you!”

Terry pulls back to stare at you until you meet his eyes, “yes you are.”

“Want to bet?” You sit up a little while there’s that glint of amusement that appears in Terry’s green hues.

He gets right in your personal space, forehead brushing right against yours, “do you?”

You gulp.

STELLA:

Having your own following, you had your supporters control what you did today. It was a Saturday, you just left the cafe with them picking your choice of drink and pastry while doing some work at the cafe for about an hour almost two, which gave them enough time to decide what you were to do next. Smiling to yourself after seeing which challenge was selected, you texted your girlfriend to see if she was down at the station before ordering her a cold brew to go.

You weren’t a cold brew kinda person but Stella had the strongest of stomach’s, which made sense considering she was a whole ass firefighter and you knew your girlfriend would be thrilled to see you and coffee—not just depending on what kind of day it was at 51.

“There she is!” Stella’s all grins while the rest of her team are running drills.

You wave at Gallo, Mouch, and Carver who return the action with a pant and hold out the beverage to the dark haired woman, who had her lips out first before her hands. Laughing a little you meet her lips, pecking them multiple times until she deemed that as satisfactory before she takes the drink into her hands.

“And what the hell are you drinking?” Her nose crinkles.

This wasn’t unfamiliar, sometimes the both of you would budge and try the other’s just to hate it.

“Want to try?”

“Uh uh,” Stella winces, then sighs as she brings the drink to her lips and with a pop of her tongue she says, “my girl, always gonna get me right every time! You been busy today, huh?”

“Yeah had a meeting about the next direction i want to take my blog in after the last poll i posted and needed a little pick me up to get through the rest of this Saturday,” you inform, “you’re the pick me up.”

Stella teases as she points at herself, “Little ‘Ol me?”

“Yes you.” You joke back as you peer up at her.

“I’m flattered!”

“I know you are.”

Stella reached to cup your face, staring at you lovingly before her eyes go into slits, “what do you want?”

You laugh, “wooow! Can’t i just come say hi?”

“Sure but we’ve both been busy lately and usually don’t have the time to pop in and say hey so…what do they want?”

You push your lips out, looking away before looking back shyly at Stella who scoffs out a laugh. “Spit it out!”

“It won’t take long, but it’s a trend going on right now.”

“‘Course it is.” She nods.

You’re already pulling out your phone for her, she moves to stand behind you, still sipping on her drink before lowering her face towards your shoulder, burying her nose there for a second before you bring up one of the videos from your likes.

“So…you want me to do that?” Stella questions after getting the gist of it.

You nod, “you did always say you wanted to try new positions…”

“Whew! Stella, looks like you found somebody to match your freak?” Gallo calls out, making Stella raise her brows and whip to face the younger man.

Carver playfully shoves the dark haired man while Mouch looks confused on that terminology.

“Did I tell you to stop? Just for that, Blake! You’re all going to run it five more times.”

“Five?!” Carver calls out, “what the hell, gallo?”

Mouch slaps a gloved hand to his head in irritation.

Gallo appears sheepish at his team mates, mumbling sorries while you send a wink his way, making him quirk up a small smile at you, since you found it funny.

Stella pulls you further away from her truck, “did your supporters tell you, I couldn’t do it or somethin’?”

“I actually haven’t checked my DM’s but who gives a shit what they have to say? I just thought it would not only be cute but sexy to see you do it in your work attire.” You run a hand down Stella’s long torso.

She takes a big swish of cold brew before placing it on the floor near Squad three’s truck. Stella clasps her hands together, cracks them, and then rubs them together. “Let’s do this, babe! I gotcha, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” You place your drink by her’s on the ground, “I know my woman’s strength.”

Stella’s always been competitive, it’s one of the things you loved about her and one of the things she did to get your attention.

“Damn straight!” Stella runs her teeth over her bottom lip, “let’s show these douchebags what I’m made of.”

You laugh, “babe, there’s no one challenging you remember?”

“Not yet. We’re about to set the standard, let’s go before I get snatched away on call!”

You stand in front of her, staring at her over your shoulder hard and she can read your mind. She fans her hand for you to turn back around, “I’ve got no plans on letting you slip through my fingers, don’t doubt me.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not—

It’s like you forgot that you turned the timer on and Stella’s listening while the rest of her team are being nosy and watching. You’re cut off, letting out a scream as she turns your feet up into the air, holding you there as your hands clasp your mouth, hiding your giggles before she switches you into the position where your legs are around her hips.

“Yeah!” She yells at the camera over your shoulder, holding onto you before you’re moving her face by the chin to meet your lips.

Mouch let’s out a wolf whistle with Gallo and Carver clap it up.

“Knew you had it in you, baby.” You breathe as Stella puts you down.

Stella grins, “my biggest cheerleader. You’re alright though?”

“Course!”

Gallo calls out, “I want to try next!”

“No!” Stella points at Gallo who deflates.

“Try what?” Hermann’s nasally tone is heard, followed by Ritter, Cruz, and Capp who came out behind him.

Doing what Gallo does, he tells them what you came here for and even grabs your phone to show what you two just did.

Hermann frowns, “I can do that!”

“Hundred bucks says Cindy won’t let you do it.” Stella points at the older man who scoffs at the woman.

Ritter adds, “wouldn’t it just be easier to continue on our subject right here?”

Cruz laughs, “way to make them sound like a science experiment!”

“I definitely did not mean it that way.” Ritter is apologetic while you just brush it off, knowing that the guy means no harm as you walk over trying to get your phone back from Gallo who’s showing the video to Capp now.

Capp says, “what’s so hard about that?!”

“Says the guy who got a boot stuck on his head.” Joe mutters to you.

“Exactly!” Hermann roars referring to Capp’s first response, “and Cindy would let me do that if I provided enough of those little videos you got inspired by!”

“Okay then shake my hand on it!” Stella orders already in disbelief, while Hermann huffs, slapping his hand right into Stella’s.

“Hey, I heard that.” Capp points at Joe, “and it was one time! What do you think? I’m going to drop her into the ground and they’ll get stuck?”

Your eyes go wide as Gallo hands back your phone, “um…I’m gonna go now. Plenty of work to get back to, just like you first responders!”

Quickly you turn and head back to Stella to peck her cheek before running off to pick up your drink.

“Look what you did, Capp. Scaring them off!” Mouch yells at the bald man who frowns.

Stella tries to call out to you but you just chuck up the deuces and turn around to kiss at your fingers multiple times, before throwing them towards the woman but made no motion of slowing down.

When Stella gets back to her office after a very long call, she texts you to let you know she won’t be back home until the morning so don’t wait up for her. With that she also sends a final text: you’re right, I am looking forward to something new…especially after today 🤸‍♂️🫦

It only takes you a minute to send a risqué photo right back, you in one of Stella’s favorite thong’s that made your backside look out of this world and you were doing exactly that, in a hand stand with you saying: like this? See you when you get home 😉💋

You knew just how to drive her crazy because before Stella can find the words to say, she’s placed on do not disturb—not for the rest of the night—you wouldn’t dare, not with the kind of job she does but just enough to make her sweat it out.

That Stella did as she bit down on her knuckle, burning the image of you in her mind before she locked her phone and turned it over face down on her desk. 

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Continue with my October anthology prompts here.

[vienssunshine]

It ain’t real cherry, but you still lick the wrapper

pairing: Makima x fem!reader nsfw: vaginal fingering, gore, death, manipulation, mind control, non-con wc: 4k author's note: Happy Halloween <3 description: Unable to get this woman off your mind, you resort to drastic measures

“It’s done.” 

The man in front of you steeples his fingers, thick, hairy forearms making a triangle as his elbows rest on the desk that separates you. His eyes flick over your face, searching for an expression of relief, and when he can’t find a trace of one, he asks, “Are you not grateful for all of my hard work?”

“No, I am. I’m very grateful,” you hurry out, “I’m just…just trying to process it all.” 

The story he's telling you—that she was shot in the back of the head this morning while on the train to work—is hard to believe. Such an unceremonious, mortal end for this mythical woman keeps this reported reality suspended in the air, unable to sink in. 

“Well, whether you process it or not, you remember our deal, right?” The man glances down to the small section of your collarbone that your conservative neckline exposes.

There’s not much a mob boss could want because, with the gun devil on his side, he could bend most of civilization to his will. So, there was only one unique thing you could leverage in return for an assassination.

“I haven’t forgotten,” you say. “But…right now? Here?” The large, curtainless window to your right provides access to the beautiful city skyline, but also allows those populating the city’s towers a view of you in return. Looking around, you realize you’re close to the Public Safety Office, closer than you thought. You don’t want to think about how your co-workers will react once they hear of your boss’ death. Even worse is if they see how you’re about to pay to have made it happen.

“Right here. Right now,” he decides, and you press your lips together and swallow harshly. You knew what the trade off would be to get her out of your head, knew you were willing to do anything, so you’ll just have to accept your fate. 

The man walks over to the small bar cart and pours two glasses of scotch. While taking a sip of his own, he extends the other glass. “To loosen you up, nervous girl.” 

“Hah. Thanks.” You take the heavy glass in your hand and choke down the burning liquid in one big gulp. Hopefully it’ll make this easier.

With that in order, he gestures to your sweater, and you cross your arms over each other and dip your fingers under the hemline, childishly waiting a second for him to say nevermind, you don’t have to do this. But he doesn’t, so you pull the sweater up over your head and place it in a pile on the top of his wooden desk. You try to put the open window out of your mind. 

“Very nice,” he says, chuckling, “I like what I see.” His gaze has an uncomfortable weight to it, and the way his eyes crawl over you makes you want to wrap your arms around yourself and cover up your exposed skin. 

He takes a step towards you and after one big swig places his scotch on the desk next to your sweater. You force your body to keep still, to not flinch away when his big palm lands on your shoulder, giving it a rub before traveling down to your chest to your bra, squeezing your right breast in his palm.

“Time for this to come off too,” he says, grinning. You force a smile back, avoiding eye contact with the outline forming in his pants. 

Your hands go around your back, fiddling with the fastening of your bra, and with one clasp left to undo you’re interrupted by the shrill ring of a landline. 

The man swears, muttering that no one should be bothering him as he walks back around the desk and answers the phone.

“What?” he says gruffly. “Huh? Slow down—slow down I said—you’re not making any sense—she’s what?—but that’s—what?…hello?…hello?”

He waits a few more moments, listening, before putting the phone down. You place your hands in your lap, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “Is everything okay?” you ask. 

He walks over to the window, his hand on his head. “I think…I think it’s best if you leave,” he says. 

A calm voice from behind you says, “I hope this isn’t on my account.”

Your breath catches, choking your throat up. The owner of that voice is supposed to be dead.

You turn, slowly and mechanically, from the shell-shocked man by the window to the door, and you see the face you’ve seen too much for one lifetime. It’s Makima, standing in the doorway of the office, covered in blood.

“No…no…” you mumble, your fingers digging into your collarbone.

“It’s all right, it’s not mine,” she reassures, gesturing to her stained clothing. 

“How did you get in here?” the mobster cries. “Where are my men?”

“They were kind enough to lead me right to you,” she answers, “Though I believe they now regret attempting to follow through on their boss’ orders.”

Fingers knot into your insides, squeezing your heart so tight every beat that radiates through your body is painful. You thought this was over, thought you were free. 

Makima shuts the door behind her and looks down to you, still frozen in the seat of your chair. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him now. Please close your eyes.”

“What? Wait, don’t—” you gasp out, but she steps forward and places her slender fingers over your face anyway. 

The man makes a strangled noise. “What…what are you…?” he chokes out. The question goes unanswered and his body thuds to the ground. When she removes her hand, you don’t open your eyes, this time of your own volition. 

She hums, and another strange noise comes from the body, like the crushing of fleshy insides. Then she puts her hand on the back of your head, petting you in a gesture she must think is soothing. “It’s okay now, he’s gone.” 

Gone, the only lifeline you had out of this, gone. There’s no one else you’re able to turn to; the henchmen of the gun devil, the most feared devil after the chainsaw devil, were the only people who could get rid of her. Though, those who tried are dead now. They have that in common with your hope of being released from your role as Makima’s plaything. 

You open your eyes, fixing them on the corner of the desk in front of you. You don’t see the man anymore. 

“It wasn’t very nice of you to try to get me killed,” she says, like she’s scolding a child. “And with the gun devil? You think that lowly of me?” 

Her petting pauses, waiting for an answer. 

You can’t get one out. “I–I…” There’s a puddle of blood spreading across the floor by the window. 

“It’s all right, I’ll forgive you.” She turns your chair around effortlessly, forcing your gaze upon her glowing eyes. “This time.” She smiles. 

Voice breathy, you ask, “What–what do you want from me?”

Makima places her hands on the arms of the chair and leans over you, claiming every inch of distance separating your bodies. You recede into the chair as far as you can, shaking. “I think that should be obvious by now,” she says.

“I don’t…” No, you can’t. You can’t do this again. 

She moves into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale, and then sighs from the pleasure of your scent. “I don’t enjoy it when you play coy. Or when you act as if you do not like this as much as I do.” She combs your hair away from your face. “But I can’t get upset, you’re just so cute, my little hunter.”

Hunter. How you hate that word. How you hate your job—forced to live in fear of torture and death at the hands of devils. It was what your contract required: you either worked at the Public Safety Department killing devils or be executed as a traitor to the country. Not much of a choice at all. And you don’t even know how this happened. It was as simple as it was terrifying—you woke up one day contracted to a devil, the spider devil Princi. It was the day after that freak accident in the alley by your apartment. The day after you met Makima. 

You retort, “I’m not your–”

But then her lips graze your neck, and your voice stops in your throat. Softly, gently, they roam up and down your rapid pulse point. Your stomach drops, because then it lights up within you, that frighteningly familiar warm sensation that begins to pour through your body. It’s like an initial stream of lava slowly rolling down the side of a volcano, a warning that there’s much more to still come. 

No, it’s happening. She’s doing it again. 

Your head rolls to the side, exposing more of your neck to her, and you let out a shaky breath as she crawls onto the chair, straddling your lap. 

“There’s my good girl, letting me in,” she whispers before suckling on your neck, harsh enough to leave a bruise. The violence is lost on you, your arms circling around her waist, pulling her in tighter, wanting more. 

You’ve got to get her off–

Makima’s arms lock around your shoulders, pulling you in tight so her breasts press up against yours, soft, warm. She nips at your neck again, drawing out a quiet moan from your throat. 

It’s something about her, something that’s making you lose control.

Her fingers dip under your bra straps, slipping them off your shoulders. When she reaches behind your back and unclips your bra, there’s no embarrassment, no desire to cover up, and the garment falls to the side of the chair. 

It’s been like this every time, something in your brain just goes slack when she asks anything of you, even worse when she touches you. 

Makima kisses your neck one more time before her hands travel down to your chest.

You’re pretty sure that the first time it happened was the evening you stayed late to help her finish some reports. You don’t remember agreeing to help or actually working on any of the reports, just that you left her office with your underwear in your hand. 

Makima runs her palms over your breasts, your nipples piquing up to meet her enticing touch. 

That night hammered a tiny crack into your psyche, giving rise to insufferable symptoms you’ve had to live with ever since. The next few days after that night, every single thought that passed through your mind was about her. 

She hums before leaning down to press wet kisses to your chest, fanning the flames licking up the sides of your stomach. 

There were so many long, painful nights after you met Makima. You’d lie awake, your once comfortable bed hard as a rock, pouring over the small interactions you had with your boss that day. 

Her tongue rolls over your nipple while her hand kneads your other breast.

There was nothing more important to pay attention to—often you were forgetting your own needs, going days without anything to eat or drink. You tried setting reminders for yourself, but lightheadedness and fatigue still became daily occurrences.

Makima’s touch travels down to your hips, her thumb circling over the bone as she leaves a few more dark marks on your clavicle. 

It terrified you, these intense, foreign thoughts banging around your head, evicting your own consciousness from your brain. It was unbearable, you were getting sick every other night, throwing up in the toilet from just how much you missed a woman that you haven’t even had dinner with. 

She moves from your collarbone and gently bites your shoulder, next licking and kissing the indentations of her teeth in your skin. 

It wasn’t healthy. But therapy didn’t help, your friends laughed it off, and you could never mention it to your parents.

Lightly dragging her nails down your shoulders to your hands, Makima slinks to the ground in front of your chair, spreading your legs and pushing your skirt up. 

You felt like you were going crazy. 

She hums as she removes your underwear, revealing a glittering mess between your legs.

It eased up a few days after the evening you stayed late, though the thoughts never truly subsided. They’d ebb and flow, worsened after a noticeable gap in your memory. It didn’t make any sense, like you were living in a nightmare rather than reality.

Makima thumbs over your folds, drawing out a sharp hiss as she slips closer to your aching hole. 

It was one harmless comment from Aki, a co-worker contracted with the fox devil, that revealed everything to you. 

“Yeah, Princi will do just about anything Makima tells her to. It’s like she’s under a spell or something.”

A spell? What a strange way to put it.

Unless it’s not strange at all, rather, a reasonable, accurate way of describing it.

A spell. It all became clear. You’d been pondering any type of natural explanation for these maddening symptoms, but it’s possible there never was one. You were the victim of a supernatural influence…which can only be the work of a devil.

And it wasn’t only you, and not just Princi, the spider-devil you magically became contracted to—certainly Makima’s doing—it was everyone that’s under Makima’s spell.

It was some kind of power, a way she could get everyone to do her bidding. She’s been able to talk you and your co-workers into doing anything, and you weren’t the only one with strong feelings for her: you rivaled Aki, Denji, and a few others who’ve proclaimed their love.

Makima had completely infiltrated your mind. It’s why you wanted her dead.

She pushes her fingers inside your aching hole, slipping right in with no resistance from your body. 

You exhale a curse that brings a smirk to her face. She knows this feels good, whether you want it to or not. So she gives you more, dancing her fingers in and out of your core, intent on provoking the primal way your body reacts to her. 

Your hips buck and twitch with every strong curl of her fingers, body unable to resist the way the pads of her fingertips stroke every weak point of your canal in a meticulous assault. 

“You wanted to say goodbye to this?” she taunts, tilting her head and drinking in your expression as your face contorts. 

“Fuck…you,” you grit out, “This isn’t right. This isn’t me.” 

“If not you, then who’s currently soaking my fingers?” she responds, with a pointed thrust that has your hand flying out to grab onto her shoulder. The strength in your grip does little to faze her. 

“It’s not real.” you cry out, a desperation for your words to be true underlining your voice. “I know what you are.” 

“Oh?” She seems amused by the contrast of your verbal combativeness and the way your body writhes beneath her. How your hand has moved from her shoulder to encircle her wrist in a tight grasp, but makes no effort to pull it away. 

“And who would that be?” Her glowing eyes flare as they narrow in on you. It sends a wave of ice through your body until the next curl of her fingers heats it up again. You groan, finding it harder to follow your train of thought with the incessant rhythm of pleasure pounding through your body. 

“You’re the control devil. One of the four horsemen.”

She’s unaffected, her soft smile never faltering, but her movements pause. “What makes you say that?” 

With a respite, it’s easier to make your argument. “I’ve seen it. Everyone at work does anything you say, and they’re all in love with you. But a fucked up kind of love, obsessive. Like me, it’s an obsession when it comes to you. I feel fucking crazy.”

“How sweet,” she croons, placing a kiss on your inner thigh, “I like you very much as well.” 

You try to pull your thigh away, but she keeps it locked in place. “No, this isn’t—it’s not real. Because these emotions are what you want me to feel. The book—the book in the office library—it says the control devil can manipulate a person’s thoughts and emotions.” 

Her jaw tightens and she sits back on her feet. “I wonder how that book re-appeared,” she notes rigidly. Then she sighs, “No matter, I’m sure I’ll work it out.” Makima looks back up to your face. “After I’m through with you.”

You shudder and her hands find their way back to your thighs, fingertips skimming over your goosebump-ridden flesh. “It’s fascinating that you think I ever used my powers on you,” she says. 

It’s true then, she’s the control devil. But she’s denying her role in your spiraling sanity. 

“I’ve never, ever felt like this before. Never been so crazy or intense about someone, it’s not normal,” you argue, wincing as she reinserts herself. “You’re controlling me—it's the only explanation.”

“Am I?” Makima asks, curling her fingers again, “Or is it that you respond?”

Your eyes flutter and your hips instinctively grind against her hand. Fuck, you can’t focus when she touches you like that.

“You’re certain I’m making you like this?” she asks. Your hand reaches for the one on your thigh, holding onto it while she pumps in and out if you. “Or…are you actually enjoying this as much as you seem to?”

She’s making your head hurt. It’s her fault…right? She’s the one that’s manipulating your feelings, it’s her that’s implanting ones you’d never normally feel, and exacerbating their intensity with a flick of her fingers. It’s not you, it’s her.

And yet it’s your body that’s building up to a peak, one that you can’t stop yourself from reaching, one that you know will redefine the foundation of your world once more. You tried to have her killed—to protect yourself from her influence—and she’s still about to make you come.

It makes you wonder how much is her fault and how much is yours. 

You had a bit of a crush on her before you really knew her. She was so nice to you when you first met, made you feel like there was someone in your corner during such a hard transition. She even bought you lunch a few times, your favorite meal. 

You can’t quite remember how it even got to this point. Trying to kill her? Taking it to that level? You wonder if you were overreacting. Really, she’s nothing but nice to you.

And she makes you feel so good. So good you can’t stand it. Can’t stand her? No, can’t stand being away from her. God, this is all so confusing. Better to not think so hard.

You look down to her. It’s that same smile. She’s got you.

“Damnit,” you hiss.

“Mhmm,” she agrees. 

Then your hips jolt. Several waves of unadulterated bliss course through your body, surging through your spine so fiercely that your back arches up off the chair. Your free hand clings to the desk behind you, trying to keep you from falling off the chair as you endure the orgasm.

Your eyebrows press together and your mouth drops open in a silenced scream. Pleasure pounds through your body, beating against every part like a stick to a drum. 

“Fuck,” you say, digging your fingers into Makima’s wrist, “Feels so…oh my god.” 

“Doing so good,” she coos, and you can only whine back, voice cracked and dry.  

Makima pulls your closer, hand snaking around your waist so it’s supporting your curved lower back, pulling you into her fingers that pump in and out of you. There’s no escape, her assault on your core is merciless, even if you’re hanging onto the edge. 

God, you need a break, need this orgasm to end. You call out her name, begging for a reprieve. 

Makima doesn’t stop her motions, and her fingers drag against your sensitive walls. You go to pull her hand away, to end the overstimulation. 

And then you feel it, a sudden, tingling buzzing in your lower back, pushing closer and closer to your core. Your first one has barely finished, scattered sparks still rocketing through your body. Makima doesn’t care, she’s intent on pushing you to your limit—breaking you.

“I can’t…oh my…mm’god I can’t–” you say, twitching and groaning as your hole throbs around Makima’s working fingers, already spent. 

“You can,” she replies, her eyes glowing once more, “and you will.”

“Shit–Makima,” you moan, the feeling re-approaching your core, building in intensity. It’s like being caught under a violent wave, coming up out of the ocean half-drowned, and rubbing the salt out of your eyes to see an even bigger, fiercer wave towering over you.

Terrified or not, the wave crashes down, and there’s nothing you can do but try to hold on to the seafloor.

“Fucking–shit–Makima oh my god,” you cry out, eyes pressing shut. You’re shaking, shifting around in the chair but her hands keep you pinned in place. You catch a glimpse of her in your struggle—she just watches you, smiling.

“Ah,” you cry out. The sensation is flooding through your body, splintering out to reach every nerve in your core, your torso, and then your arms and legs. The experience is overwhelming, your body is being made a vessel to handle a voltage it can’t endure. 

You heave and you jolt but you can’t fight the feeling out of you, it’s entrenching itself into your muscle fibers and bones. The heat has creeped up your spine, making your head even dizzier. 

Your voice reverberates through your throat, but nothing intelligible comes out. It takes two more attempts at communication to realize that the only thing you can say is her name.

So you repeat it, over and over like it’s a language. 

“M–Makima…Makima….Ma-kima…”

Your vision is white and you can’t feel the chair underneath you. Makima grabs your face, her voice is echoing through you, but you can’t really hear any of it.

“Yes,” you respond, but you don’t know how, you never tried to say it. 

Then the wave recedes, color seeping back into your eyes, and the deep pressure of your orgasm slowly decompresses from your lower body. 

You fall limp in the chair, muscles exhausted and unable to move. Your body aches and your mind flickers on and off like a broken lightbulb.  

“That’s a good girl,” Makima coos, stroking the sides of your thighs. Your eyelids are struggling to stay up, but you’re able to meet her gaze. The most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen is smiling softly at you.

You’re so tired. Depleted in all facets. There’s no will to fight…though you can’t remember what you’d even fight her for. All you want right now is the comfort she can provide. 

You reach your shaking arms down to her wrists and guide her back up, bringing her face close to yours. She places her palms on your cheeks, cradling your face as she whispers how strong you are, how good you did for her, everything you want to hear after enduring such an intense experience. It fills your heart with a gentle warmth, a desire for her to be nestled within you, to stay with you forever.

So you draw her in, placing a soft, affectionate kiss on her lips. She kisses you back gently, fanning the warm, comfortable hearth constructed in your chest. 

When she leans back, she sighs softly. “I’m so glad you’ve come back to me, my little hunter.”

You smile and let out a breathy hum, “Mhmm, me too.” 

[sofisweb]

　₊　　　˙　　⠀⠀✦⠀　　　˙　　₊ In the Dark

summary: You and Rick get into a bit of a mess on a supply run and find a cabin to stay the night in.

Suggestive towards the end, implied sexual stuff (nothing tho cause i can't write), mention of Daryl (once), age gap implied, NOT PROOF READ   𓈒⠀　˙　　₊　

　₊　　　˙        reader x Rick Grimes  𓈒⠀　˙　　₊

 　˙　　₊　setting: whenever (i wasn't thinking about it) ˙　　₊　

₊　　　˙　 Word count:  1476

“Fuck - it’s cold..”  I stuttered out as me and Rick finally busted the lock open off the cabin door.  My hands were shaking, not just from the cold but from the rush of adrenaline still coursing through me after the herd we narrowly escaped. We had both gone on a supply run - the group was running out of supplies fast and there was a town nearby so we’d decided to go and check it out.

And a random herd had come up so we had to run - getting no supplies, ending up soaked from the sudden rain and awfully tired. Trip definitely went as planned.

Rick opened the door with his flashlight in hand and gun in the other , the light cutting through the darkness to scan for any threats. The last thing we both needed were more walkers. “Let’s see what we’re workin’ with.” he muttered out, his voice steady but still equally exhausted. I walked in beside him, my grip on my weapon loosening as I let out a small sigh at the sight of the cabin being clear..except for the mice.

“Cosy.” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm as I looked around the small cabin. I kicked the door shut behind me to prevent even more rain coming in. “I seriously should’ve just let Daryl go on this run with you.” Which caused him to let out  a small laugh in reply. I noticed Rick’s eyes landing on a fireplace with some firewood already in there and he looked back at me, “We’ll manage.” He responded with a firm tone. “You alright, kid?”

I just responded with a small hum and nod.

And one of my first thoughts was to check how gross the bed was- walkers, mice and bugs - my top 3 list of ‘things i hate’ and thankfully - it was clean .. clean enough for me not to have a heart attack. I placed my bag down on a nearby table, along with my gun.

Rick was probably saying something to me while i was checking out the clean rating of the room as all i heard him say was ‘get your clothes off’ 

“H - huh?” I called out as I looked back at him at the fireplace, “I said if you keep those on ya’ gonna freeze.” and I swallowed back a shaky breath and just responded with a nod, raising an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I have anything else to wear under this.”  I muttered jokingly to myself as I unzipped my uncomfortable jacket and Rick huffed a small laugh, kneeling to inspect the fireplace. “You know that modesty ain’t much of a priority if ya’ a popsicle.” 

I rolled my eyes in response - one of my priorities was my jacket and jumper , I'd probably just die if they were ruined and the cold had already made my fingers too stiff to argue. I tossed my jacket onto my bag before I peeled my jumper off, a small sigh of relief escaping my lips as I escaped that uncomfortable feeling.

I ran a hand through my wet hair as I looked back over at Rick, watching him work at the fireplace as he struggled to get the fire going. His shoulders were tense, his wet shirt clinging to his back- He eventually got the fire going and warmth started to faintly fill the room, Rick sat back on his heels, brushing damp hair out of his face. His eyes flicked to me, lingering for a second too long before he spoke. “Better?” “Yeah.” I nodded with a small sigh in response and I headed over to my outer-clothing and moved it near the fire. “I gotta dry this.” And he let out a small nod and chuckle in response, “Yeah - I should probably do that too.” And he followed my actions as he grabbed his jacket off the ground and placed it beside mine.

“We’ll probably have to stay here for the night- head back at first light.” And I nodded in response. I sat down beside him, my knee brushing against his for a moment. We both stayed silent for a while- unsure of what to do or say and just embraced the warmth and the fire crackling filled the room.

Rick eventually spoke up as he looked over to me. “Ya’ handling this better than most would.” I blinked, surprised and spoke up once more. “What? Handling a mouse-infested cabin?” I laughed out softly and a small smile crept up on his face as he shook his head in response. “Guess so- but, not what I meant.” “Out there...the herd, the run. You kept your head. Did what needed doin'. That ain't easy, not for anyone." His words made my chest tighten in a way - that I would never admit and I shrugged. “I guess I did learn from the best.” and I looked back at the fire.

Rick looked at me for a moment, his expression unreadable, he leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as his gaze dropped to the fire. “I mean it,” he began, a small sigh escaping his lips as he looked over at me.

“Feel’s like I can trust ya’.” He murmured, “Ain’t a lot of people I can trust nowadays – but you? I can trust you.” I seriously didn’t know what to say- I know it was just a small compliment , was it even a compliment? Whatever - my heart began beating faster than it was when we were running from that herd before and I could feel my face start to heat up a bit. Before I could find my words his hand reached out, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear and his hand lingered for just a moment, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek. “Ya’ tougher than you give yourself credit for.” his voice drooped just a little bit.

And I thought he would’ve..well- kissed me, but his hand moved away and I felt a bit disappointed and he gave me a small smile. “You can rest, I’ll keep watch-” “-you sure?” And i knew there was no point in arguing, i stood up with a small sigh and nodded. “M’kay. Goodnight.” “Goodnight Y/N.”

–

A few hours - minutes, whatever had passed and I stayed awake hoping that if i kept my eyes closed I'd eventually drift off to sleep.

I couldn’t sleep and I had to hold back stirring and rolling over every minute with Rick in the room. I had that moment in my mind playing over and over again like a broken record.

My mind started to wonder when Rick was going to sleep-  maybe he probably already had, just against a chair on the floor. Just as I was about to call out his name I paused as I felt the bed dip slightly behind me. At Least he actually got in the bed- last thing he would’ve wanted was back problems from sleeping on the floor, right? 

And I decided to stay silent, I thought that maybe if he knew I was awake he would’ve left.. My eyes fluttered open as I felt him shift closer and as his arms carefully wrapped around my waist. “I know ya’ awake..” he whispered gently into my ear. “Oh.” I sighed out- thankful he didn’t pull away and I shifted closer to him. He groaned softly, burying his face in the side of my neck and his arms squeezing me slightly as he pulled me closer, pressed up against him. His warmth against my back was a stark contrast to the cold that had clung to my skin all night, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he held me close. “How’d you know I was awake?” “Kinda easy to tell when ya’ tossin’ and turnin’ all the time.” I let out a small sigh and bit my lower lip, feeling a little embarrassed."Sorry," I murmured, but he shook his head, his chin brushing my shoulder. “Get some sleep.” He murmured against my neck, pressing a gentle kiss as his thumb traced absent patterns on my hip. “You too.” I murmured in reply as I turned around to fully face him, his leg slipping in between mine - just as I was about to say something I could notice the look in his eyes in the faint light and without another word he closed the gap between us,

His lips brushed against mine, urgently but gently as if he’d been holding back for farr too long. My hands automatically trailed up his chest, my arms wrapping around his neck.

Rick picked me up slightly, groaning softly into my mouth as he lowered me under him.

“Guess we’re not gettin’ much sleep tonight.” He murmured with a small smile. "Guess not."

deadass dont know why this took me so long to write i need more motivation

[geeks-universe]

The Fallen pt. 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

A/N: Some light spice, no full on smut yet. This is in fact a Lucifer (TV) crossover. The beginning italics is a flashback.

Cooper Howard had perfected his aim in the many, many years of life spent in the hellish landscape that now inhabited Earth, so when he missed, it was purposeful.

“It ain’t good form, sneakin’ up on a restin’ man.”

His words were crisp, articulated, and honestly the intruder was just lucky he happened to be in a decent mood. It would’ve been easier to kill them.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”

The replying voice was a stark contrast to the harshness of the life he lived. It didn’t belong, sounded far too gentle, and it aroused enough curiosity for him to tip his hat back.

Not a damn thing in the whole of the Wasteland could’ve prepared him for the sight he was met with.

Pretty, that was his first thought.

Too pretty.

Ungodly so, actually. Your eyes seemed to shine so bright in contrast to the dingy lantern that barely provided enough light to see his own hands. The slope of your nose, the cut of your cheeks, the shape of your lips- too pretty.

Not to mention the tight jumpsuit you wore, the zipper tugged down low enough on your chest to show off a healthy amount of cleavage. His fingers twitched as his eyes traced a path down your body- slow, appreciative. It’d been a damn long time since something as simple as a look could get him this worked up.

You had one visible weapon, a knife tucked into the belt of your jumpsuit, pressed into your very alluring thigh. He wondered briefly what it would feel like under his hand, wrapped tight around his waist.

“I suggest you get on your way ‘fore the next one ends up in your skull.”

It was a threat, one he emphasized with the click of his gun’s hammer.

You seemed unbothered, almost bored.

Fuck, didn’t that just annoy the piss out of him? You stumbled into his space- that he commandeered with his hard earned bullets, thank you very much- looking like fucking Aphrodite, with an expression that could, at best, be considered unconcerned.

Last he checked he was still pretty goddamn terrifying.

“Understood,” you held your hands up, and damn it all if he could ignore the pain in your gaze.

He hesitated.

It was a fraction of a fraction of a second, where he almost slipped back into Cooper Howard: the man who cared, imperceptible to most, but the small upturn of your lips told him you saw it.

He glared, holding his gun higher. You didn’t say another word, just held your hands up and walked away, but not before you met his gaze one more time.

He wished he knew what you were thinking when you muttered a soft, “thanks,” before you disappeared from the rickety building. The image haunted him for weeks, of you with your sad eyes, your face untouched by the ugliness of the world, breathing out your gratitude.

He swore he’d shoot you on sight if he ever saw you again, if only because that one encounter lingered in his mind for far too long after.

“Think they’re fuckin’?”

You startled, whipping your head up to face Cooper so quickly he was sure that it hurt. The heat that flushed your cheeks was unexpected.

“Sorry, just didn’t think you’d be so blunt.” You cleared your throat, running a hand through your hair. “Maybe, they certainly seemed interested enough in one another to… engage.”

Coop barked a laugh, low and deep.

“Engage, huh?” You narrowed your eyes at him, resting your arms on your knees. “That’s a real innocent term for a bonafide tease like yourself.”

“Tease?” You echoed, almost offended.

The red from your cheeks burned a path down your neck, to the top of your breasts, where it disappeared beneath the fabric of your jumpsuit- a path Cooper was all too eager to trace with his eyes.

He hummed an affirmative, spreading his legs out in front of him. His back was leaned against the pole of an old billboard, giving him a nice resting spot from the traveling you’d been doing.

A few days ago, your little trio ran into the same knight Cooper had gotten into a shootout with back in Filly. He’d wanted to shoot the man and be done with it, but Lucy had argued that he could help.

After much deliberation, and more than a few pleads of your own, Cooper agreed to let him live. For now.

“A tumble in the ol’ hay gettin’ you nice and shy, huh?”

You groaned, forcing your eyes down to the sand beneath your legs. He waited eagerly for your explanation.

“My dad was, uh, strict,” you supplied lamely, embarrassment burning a pyre in your stomach.

You would surely never hear the end of this.

“Darlin’, are you suggesting you’re a-“

“No,” you were quick to respond, beating back against the shame that you felt.

You’d never understand how Lucifer could be so free in his decisions, not bothering to feel any guilt over the many decidedly “un-angel-like” behaviors he had. His time on Earth with you was short, beckoned back to his prison before you could even spend a decade together, but he’d not been idle in that time.

“I’ve… engaged before.”

Cooper’s lips drew into a slow smirk, the brim of his hat hiding the way his eyes were drinking in your expression. He’d memorized the way you look time and time again- when you were happy, or sad, angry, annoyed.

Embarrassed, however, was a new one.

“And now?”

The indignation that flared in your gaze rivaled the red of your cheeks, a thrill running down Coop’s spine as you pulled yourself to your feet and stalked towards him.

“And now,” you whispered, voice barely audible above the crunch of sand beneath your boot.

As you approached, he raised his head, drawn to your stare. The breath he released was strained with anticipation.

“I think you know what I want, Coop.”

It was graceful, the way you dropped yourself to your knees and straddled him. His cock twitched at the look you fixed him with, filled with far more desire than he could ever hope to understand. A fire was burning in the air between you, begging him to close the distance and feel you.

His fingers ghosted up the side of your thighs, hovering just above your ass. He’d hoped for this moment- dreamed of it, even- but never did he expect the universe would be kind enough to deliver you to him, ready and willing.

“And what is that, darlin’?” His tone dropped low, barely a murmur from his lips in fear of ruining the moment. “Don’t be afraid to use your words.”

Your mouth was so close to his, warm breath fanning over his face. He was torn between wanting to pull you into him, and letting you take your sweet time with him. The vaultie and the knight would probably be gone for a bit longer, in search of medicine to help with his shot arm.

“Mmm,” that sweet, lilting voice was so close he could feel it, inching closer to his body.

It was overwhelming, the sensation of your thighs over his, your front grinding so gently down the hardening curve of his cock. It was heaven and hell at the same time, too much and not nearly enough. A groan might’ve tore itself from his throat, it was hard to tell over the sound of his blood rushing south, heart pumping double time to match the throbbing of his cock.

Every bit of his restraint was focused on letting you initiate, his hands flexing in the air, waiting for positive indication that he could have his wicked way with you. He could practically taste the sweet nectar between your legs, drooling at the prospect. If you tasted half as good as you looked, he’d never wish for apple pie again.

You, his tormenting angel, with wide eyes and full lips that he couldn’t seem to stay away from. You, who he once believed was a figment of his own imagination, if only because he couldn’t fathom such a delicacy still existing in this world.

“The hat.”

Your words were released on a breathy sigh, hands tracing up the textured skin of his neck, before you quickly grabbed hold of his beloved hat, delicately placing it on your own head.

The triumph in your expression didn’t last, as Cooper had no intention of this being just another game. Faster than you thought possible, and with far more force than you were used to, Coop had hooked his arms around the back of your thighs, caging you against him so you couldn’t back away as you had planned.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playin’.”

You pressed further into him, tipping his hat back with a smirk. His hips pushed up, aching for contact that you purposefully held from him.

“If I’m taking a ride, might as well play the part.”

His retort was hot on his tongue, only to be immediately swallowed by your mouth. Your lips crashed into his, rough in their ministrations. Years of dreaming about the taste of you didn’t do it any justice.

Your tongue explored his mouth with a ravenous hunger, hips moving in time with each stroke of your lips.

Fuck.

Fuck.

He was sure that all there was left to taste on the Earth was bitter and bland. You, however, were sweeter than he could’ve ever imagined. You tasted of vanilla, somehow, and the first crisp wind after a hot summer, and like the Earth before the war, the good things that had been destroyed and gone forever.

Holy hell, you tasted like life.

Like a deep laugh that came straight from the soul- he moaned when you tightened your grip on the fabric of his shirt, chasing every inch he’d give you- and the man Cooper Howard used to be.

His hands were eager in their exploration, mapping out a path from your thighs, to your ass, up the curve of your spine.

Fucking hell.

Every inch of you was divine, perfect in a way Cooper couldn’t even begin to understand. He wanted more. He needed more. Needed it more than he needed those damn drugs, more than he needed anything, really.

He went straight from the junction of your neck the second you broke from the kiss, mouth watering at the very thought of pressing his teeth to your sweet, soft skin.

“Cooper,” it was a whimper, a plea, and a moan all in one, and damn did his ears ring at the sound.

It went straight to his cock, making him press his hips up into yours, desperately trying to bury his length in you despite the many layers of clothing.

Your head fell back, exposing your neck even more to him, and causing his hat to tumble somewhere by his legs. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered outside of the feel of you.

His hands slid higher, on a path to your shoulders, only to stop at the sudden intake of air from you. It sounded pained, and he was dazed when you pulled away from him with a speed he’d not seen before.

One second you were hot, willing, and moaning his name, and the next you were standing over him, your eyes haunted.

“Darlin’, what-“

He saw it then, the sticky, warm red on his hands, unmistakably blood. A baser instinct wanted to lick his gloves clean of it, taste an even deeper part of you, but the human in him won out, if only for a moment.

“You didn’t think to let anyone know you’re hurtin’.”

The anger in his tone is only trumped by the worry in his eyes. Somehow, you’d wriggled your way into his nearly fucking nonexistent heart, and it seemed that you had the self-preservation of a damn baby sea turtle.

“It’s an old wound.”

The way you held your arms to your chest, almost like you were hugging yourself, told Cooper enough. It was a wound that cut deep, not because it hurt, but because of how it got there in the first place.

“Lemme see,” he said sternly, picking up his hat off the ground with a scowl.

“Today, sweetheart,” he muttered when you made no move to do so.

There was a vulnerability in your gaze, a cut so deep he knew you’d never fully heal from it. He wished he didn’t want to know, wished he didn’t care to learn what made those bright eyes dim.

You unzipped the front of your jumpsuit slowly, tantalizingly, almost like the teasing was a part of your armor- and maybe it was. Maybe it was how you convinced yourself you didn’t care as much, or how you rebelled against the father you obviously still struggled with.

You turned your back to him, baring the marred flesh without another look in his direction. Obviously, Cooper had seen many, many scars in his time. Hell, he was scarred from head to toe, flesh marked with the passage of time and the heat of radiation.

This was a little different.

You tensed as he reached a hand out. Two large gashes ran down the length of your shoulder blades, the flesh pink and raw. Scratches, deep and angry, cut between them, some bleeding and others healed. Curiously, the tips of his gloved fingers pressed to the two big scars.

In a flash you were turned around, your hands wrapped around his wrist.

“Don’t.”

A command. A plea. A whisper.

“Who did it?”

His words were hard, a rage so deep and endless rose in his chest, feeling more feral than he had his whole life. That wasn’t the scar of someone who survived an attempt on their life.

That was the scar of someone who intended to cause pain.

“Was it your daddy?”

From the very small amount of information you’d given him, he tried to piece together exactly what happened between the two of you. He didn’t know the specifics, but he did know that he’d hurt you in some unforgivable way.

Your silence was an answer in itself.

Leather creaked as he balled his hands into fists, grinding his teeth together. Cooper Howard was a monster, self-made and self-proclaimed, but he didn’t let anyone harm what was his.

And make no mistake, you were his. That kiss did just about everything to solidify it in his mind.

“If he weren’t dead already I’d hunt him down and string him up.”

It was a promise, and he wished he could bring that bastard back from the grave to punish him for putting those marks on your back and that look in your eye.

“Coop,” you approached him cautiously, returning your jumpsuit to its proper position. “He’s not dead.”

That certainly was a surprise.

And an opportunity.

“It’s more complicated than that,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. The clench on your jaw was noticeable.

“Let’s find the fucker, then.”

A long, tired sigh parted your lips. There were clearly parts of the story he was missing, and it seemed those parts painted a picture he didn’t understand.

“Let’s focus on Lucy and her dad.”

He let the silence simmer, wondering just how much he should tell you of his past. A bit of irritation flared at the idea of revealing anything. It was better to let the past die, like you said.

He grunted his agreement, not bothering to explain it to you. Maybe you’d try to stop him, or maybe you’d help him. It didn’t matter either way. You were already far closer to him than he wanted, he couldn’t risk any more of a bond forming.

“They’ll be back.”

His words were noncommittal. It was likely the vault dweller and her puppy-dog of a knight were probably alive, but he couldn’t really care less, especially when the girl's own naivety got them into this mess.

“Her heart was in the right place.”

You could see it on his face, read the expression etched in his battered skin like nobody else could.

“The right place for dyin’, maybe.” He clicked his tongue. “But I ain’t got that sorta wish right now.”

“They didn’t have to shoot,” you muttered, not nearly as worked up as you’d been earlier.

Anger isn’t an expression you wear often, so he was a little surprised when you’d been so upset with the fiends. Lucy had the bright idea of making it around them without violence, a plan that was doomed from the start.

Cooper voiced his opinion, and so did Maximus, but your encouraging little smile to Lucy made him follow with a scowl. The second they’d drawn their weapons, Coop had already shoved you behind him and dropped one of them. The knight wasn’t nearly as quick with the draw, and got a tooth bullet lodged in his arm for the effort.

He and Lucy had departed about a day ago, claiming they’d be back soon with a fully patched up knight. If it were just him, he would’ve tied them both up and dragged their asses to the head.

Better yet, just killed them both.

But you wouldn’t let him.

You’d always erred on the side of good, a little too soft for the world around you. He’d seen you mean, seen you stand your ground, but you helped far more than you’d hurt. The vault dweller seemed to only be intensifying it, making you believe in a pipe dream that was sure to get you a one way ticket to eternity.

“I’m going to check-“

“(Y/N)!”

Lucy’s voice cracked through the Wasteland like shattering glass. Whereas his annoyance at the sudden arrival of his unwanted companions reflected on his face, you managed a small smile.

“I was beginning to think you’d left us.”

It was a joke. Whatever bond had formed between you and Lucy had clearly earned you some amount of loyalty, and even if she would’ve ditched Cooper any chance she got, she definitely wouldn’t have left you. And if she refused to, it was no surprise Maximus also did.

“I take it you’re feeling better?” Your gaze fell where the bullet had struck, and there was a curious look in your eyes. You’d mentioned before that you used to be good with fixing people up, so he had a feeling you were reminiscing on another tidbit of life he wasn’t privy to.

“Ain’t no reason to gawk here like a bunch of sittin’ ducks,” Coop stalked passed the three of you, not interested in the camaraderie.

“Right,” Lucy cleared her throat, “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”

“Just ‘cause you took lover boy here for a little ride on company property ain’t mean the rest of the world changed.”

Your sudden intake of breath definitely didn’t go unnoticed. It seemed that despite the previous interruption, you were enjoying rubbing yourself up on Coop as much as he was.

“Sex,” Lucy clarified to Maximus at the man’s confused expression.

“Watch out,” Cooper warned the other man with a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Them Vauties are just breeding factories, might end up with a little unexpected squire.”

“Cooper,” you chided, catching up to walk beside him.

Sometimes, being bitter about children in general helped him cope with the loss of his own.

“It is our privilege to one day repopulate the Earth,” Lucy confirmed, shrugging. “Women just have the responsibility of choosing the right partner.”

“I’m not sure-“ Maximus tried to speak, only to be interrupted by Cooper.

“Unsurprising.”

“(Y/N)?”

It was a low blow, Lucy asking for your opinion, knowing that even if he didn’t say it in so many words, it was obvious the ghoul valued it far more than any others. You raised a brow, shrugging.

“I haven’t really thought of it.”

“Of having kids?” Lucy pushed.

This was quickly entering uncomfortable territory, and Lucy didn’t really know where the boundary was.

“Of any sort of future, honestly.”

She took your answer in stride, though. Allowing the topic to drop off into silence. It didn’t stay that way for very long, idle chatter amongst you, Maximus, and Lucy. Cooper would very rarely comment, but he preferred to stay focused on his surroundings.

Day bled to night, which bled to day again. Time was beginning to slip past as you neared the location of the head, frustration growing in Cooper. Any opportunity he had to speak with you in private was interrupted, the traveling party growing too large for his liking.

Perhaps, after this whole ordeal, it’ll be just you and him.

Perhaps he liked the sound of that a little too much.

[mariacrow]

How about a (bayverse)transformers x reader that is from our universe? Like we somehow got into the movies which means we know everything, who dies,when they die, who to trust ect. so that would mean that we can save bots that are going to get killed yk?(jazz my baby🥺🥺) okay so if you have no clue how to write it, you dont have to!!!

I totally get you! It’s like an AU I have myself :) My brain simply CANNOT comprehend that they’re dead. What if, to add a little more spice, we’re actually a Witwicky or better yet Sam’s sibling! I’ll leave that to your imagination ;) and I know exactly how to write this piece ;)

AU where Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet are saved by Y/N!

2nd person

female reader

takes place in Transformers (2007)

takes place in Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011)

takes place in Transformers: Age of Extinction (2014)

battle, injuries, reassurance, swearing, flirting…

JAZZ lives!

“YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME!? YOU WANT A PIECE!?” blasting Megatron’s legs, Jazz was angrily shouting while you were watching, standing on top the same building Megatron was on along with Jazz in his claws.

“No! I want two!” Megatron yelled angrily.

“Hey! Hey big guy! Megs!” you yelled as loudly as you could so Megatron could hear you. Your plan was to distract him. “Megatron!!!”

Just when he was about to rip Jazz in two pieces, he turned around because he heard you. Jazz took that opportunity immediately and blasted him in the face. Megatron groaned in pain and irritation as his grip on Jazz went loose.

“You ain’t that smart after all, you pile of rust!” Jazz mocked him as he got out of his grasp and jumped towards you.

Megatron quickly turned around and aimed at you both while groaning in indescribable anger. Jazz grabbed you and jumped off the building while Megatron was trying to blast you both.

“Hold on tight, baby girl!” not the best time for flirting.

Jazz transformed into his BMW and secured you in the driver’s seat with a seatbelt, driving down the building, vertically.

“WOOOAH! JAZZ WATCH OOOUT!”

Inching from the ground, he partially transformed to safely push himself onto the ground. He did scratch his bumper though.

“Aw man! Not the bumper!”

He was speeding through the streets, drifting and sliding like the pro he is. You could barely comprehend what just happened.

“Quite of a bumpy ride, huh~?” he said kinda seductively.

“Jazz, you’re insane.” you said, chuckling.

“You saved my life out there, kid, you know that?”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

“Yeah.” he chuckled, “ “Friends~” “

🩶

IRONHIDE lives!

“For the sake of our survival, a deal had to be made… With Megatron.” Sentinel said as he repeated his gun.

Your eyes widened. Your heart skipped a beat as a heavy wave of adrenaline struck your body. The gun you were holding felt heavier than ever.

“IRONHIDE, WATCH OUT!!!” you shouted and started shooting at Sentinel’s face, aiming for his optics. You made him groan as his aim on Ironhide became wonky.

Ironhide turned around in time and got his weapons out. Sentinel managed to blast his arm off. It made Ironhide groan and lose balance, falling onto his knee as he was trying to shoot Sentinel with his other arm but the pain was keeping him away from being precise.

“NOOO!” you panicked because of Ironhide, seeing he’s badly injured.

“TRAITOROUS PUNK!” Ironhide cussed.

“GET BACK!!!” Lennox yelled.

Bumblebee reacted quickly, the fight was on. Sentinel managed to blast the base, sparkles and heat were all over the place, you could barely see anything. The sharp pieces of metal were flying everywhere which got you injured. Your arm was badly hurt which made you drop your gun and yelp.

Suddenly you could feel a huge, strong metal hand grab you and pull you back. Clinking of Ironhide’s transformation surrounded you and you soon found yourself inside of the black RAM.

He floored it along with Bee. You could hear him groan. His turning was wonky, he was barely driving.

“We need to find Ratchet, ASAP!”

“I don’t need no medic!” you could hear pain in his voice.

“Ironhide, it is not the time for your stubbornness! Please! That grandpa blasted your whole arm off!”

He angrily drifted into an alley and transformed back. You flew out and hit the ground as he slid down the wall, sitting down, holding his leaking shoulder.

You bravely got up and climbed on his leg, taking a better look at him.

“Ironhide, please…” you looked at him with pleading eyes, “This is serious and I don’t know how to fix it…”

Seeing you almost cry because of him made his spark ache. The fact you worry so much about him made it even harder for him to suppress his feelings…

“Fine… Call Ratchet…” he huffed, his ego kinda hurting.

And so you did. He was on his way. You were praying he arrives safely.

Ironhide picked you up and placed you on his other shoulder, gently keeping his servo around you. You smiled and leaned against his helm, giving him a hug. Funny how you both got your left arms injured. Twins!!!

“It’s gonna be alright… I promise…”

“Well I ain’t dying yet.” he chuckled through the pain, “I didn’t even get to take you out.”

He made you chuckle, “Well then. What are you doing tomorrow?”

You both had a good laugh as Ratchet’s sirens were approaching.

Ironhide was saved.

🩶

RATCHET lives!

Ratchet and you were hiding on that abandoned boat for a long time. It was quite difficult for survival but you had him and he had you. He has great survival skills, he taught you a lot.

The night they went hunting for you both almost meant the end. Thankfully you were there with him to react on time. You weren’t sleeping, you were guarding the hiding spot.

It was a peaceful night with a clear sky. You furrowed you eyebrows once the silence was ruined by helicopters in the distance. They were getting closer, you saw them as well as bunch of cars on the dirt road. Your eyes widened as you ran to Ratchet.

“Ratchet! Ratchet, wake up! We need to go, now! They’re coming for us!!”

“Are you sure, Y/N?”

“Yes! I saw them in the distance! Come on, hurry!” you said while quickly packing everything you had, picking up your bag and running out with him. He had a bad feeling about this but he trusted you nonetheless.

The boat got blasted from far away, you didn’t even see who did it. All you knew is that it made you jump off the boat. Ratchet grabbed you mid air and transformed into the ambulance vehicle. You found yourself tumbling inside as he got onto the ground and floored it.

Someone kept blasting you from far away. It was Lockdown tracking you but you had no clue.

“Someone is tracking us! We need to lose them!”

“I know where to go. I suggest you hold on tight! Safety first!” he’s so wholesome.

Suddenly, Ratchet’s tire got blasted. Both of you almost went flying.

“Primus!” Ratchet exclaimed and groaned.

“WOAH!” you bounced inside, securing yourself with a seatbelt, “Your tire is gone!”

Nevertheless, he kept driving with no back tire. You kept being chased by enormously strong blasts until you lost whoever was trying to kill you.

“Whatever was trying to kill us… it isn’t human. I don’t think we have such artillery… and it wasn’t coming from the sky for sure.”

“Humans have made an alliance with the Deceptacons. They won’t stop until they butcher us all!” he said with emotional pain in his voice while driving deep into the countryside, going for an abandoned junkyard.

You sat there, resting. Ratchet seemed hopeless until he spoke.

“Optimus will come back. I know he will. All of this isn’t for nothing…”

You looked up at him and smiled, standing up.

“I’ll go find a spare tire.”

You made him smile, “Thank you. You’re a sweetheart…”

That night you saved the medic’s life without even knowing how butchered he could’ve been by Savoy, Lockdown and KSI…

Dividers belong to @saradika 🩶

[darnell-la]

Alriiight, then I'd like to provide another idea 🤗 Something cheesy like the episode where Murphy forces Bellamy to hang himself but you are Bell's girlfriend and help Raven underneath the drop ship to find a way inside. Then Murphy shoots you after you get inside and Bellamy is safe but he then holds you in his arms and tells you how stupid you were to do this but that he loves you. You survive but need rest and Bellamy is the one caring for you and it's all fluffy then ? ❤️

note: I might be in love with Bellamy Blake.

———

“How about we wait right here until your pretty little girlfriend comes in,” Murphy smirked before he gagged Bellamy so he couldn’t warn y/n that Murphy was in here and waiting for her.

“Babe? Bellamy, where are you?” Y/n whispered, thinking Murphy had went to the top of the drop ship to hide. “Oh god,” y/n said as she crawled from under the ship to see her body friend on a chair with a seatbelt rapper around his neck.

“Wait- I’ll be right there,” y/n said as she struggled to get from under the ship. Bellamy yells were muffled as he tried to warn y/n where Murphy was and what he was capable of doing.

“Hey- Relax,” y/n said in her soft voice as she got up. As soon as she took a step, she was shot. The loud scream echoed through the forest, alarming the people outside what had happened.

“Y/n!” People yelled outside, panicking ans trying to get inside. “There ya go,” Murphy chuckled as he came out of a corner he was waiting in. “Been wanting to do that shit for so long,” he admitted.

Bellamy’s anger grew quickly as he yelled and tried his best to get out of the restraints, but there was no way he was getting free.

“Oh, shut it, Blake. You’re next,” Murphy said as he walked over to y/n who cried on the floor, bleeding heavily as he smirked down at her. “Pretty girls bleed too,”

Before anything else could be said, Murphy heard Monty yell that he could open the door. “Motherfucker,” Murphy said as he walked over to Bellamy and kicked the chair he was in.

“No!” Y/n cried out as she witnessed her boyfriend chocking to death. “I’ll see y’all soon,” Murphy said as he went upstairs to make some escape.

“Please, help- Help!” Y/n shouted as the door opened. As soon as they saw Bellamy, they ran to him. Clark quickly ran over to y/n to see her wound. The gun Murphy had wasn’t a regular gun. She was shit multiple times.

“I-It hurts,” y/n said in a crackly low voice as Bellamy got free. “No!” Bellamy shouted at Monty who said he needed to check him. “Baby- Are you okay? Will she be okay!?”

Bellamy freaked out after seeing the bullet holes in his girlfriend. “Needa get them out, and get her cleaned before they s and infect her,” as soon as he heard that, he picked y/n up and brought her out to the medical tent.

“I don’t want to see anymore hero shit coming from you after yesterday,” Bellamy spoke as y/n woke up. “Huh?” Y/n asked, confused and tired. She went to lean up, but groaned at the slight pain.

“Nah uh- Stop that. Lay down and rest. You ain’t working today,” Bellamy said as he came over to y/n and softly pushed her back down on her bed.

“What happened?” Y/n’s mind was blurry. “Murphy shot you. Yeah- The motherfucker shot you, and when I see him, I’m gonna kill him,” y/n blinked a few times as she rubbed her eyes, confused.

“Stop moving, y/n, this is serous,” Bellamy said as he placed her hands to the side. “You need rub your eyes? Ask me to do it. I don’t need you moving,”

Bellamy knew that was too much, but he didn’t care. He needed y/n to heal fast and well. He hated seeing her like this.

“Babe, relax,” y/n said, but Bellamy gripped her hands to stop her from moving. “I’m not fucking playing!” Bellamy yelled at her, making her stop any movement she had going on.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just- That was so fucking stupid of you. Why would you do that? For me! You could’ve — Baby, you could’ve died,” Bellamy hated saying it as much as he hated thinking it.

“I’m sorry,” y/n said after a bit of silence. She could tell Bellamy was slightly traumatized from the vent. “No, don’t get like that on me. I’m sorry for yelling. I just- I really love you, and I thought I was going to lose you right before I died,”

Y/n instantly remember everything…

“Well, you didn’t, babe — C’mere and lay with me. You need to rest too. Can hear your voice giving out,” y/n giggled as she held out her arms. He quickly crawled over her and laid down.

“I gotta work soon-“ before he could finish, y/n cut him off. “Nah uh- If I have to rest, you do to,” Bellamy went to talk, she shushed him so he wouldn’t argue. “I’ll get lonely,” that was all Bellamy needed to hear to stay with her.

[the-writerwoman]

@bewarethecourt Here we are! Your Western AU! I won’t lie, it’s had me in its grips as I love the fact that Logan is the outlaw here. I’ve been OBSESSED.

So I hope you like it 😊 and I hope everyone else does too!

@its-in-the-woods here’s your tag as I forgot to do it for the Shrek AU 😂

—————————

The desert sun beat down on the small, dusty town outside as Wade Wilson, better known to the world as Deadpool, the insane bounty hunter, lounged in his office with the epitome of lazy confidence. His boots rested on the edge of his desk, his chair tilted back precariously, and his wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his face. To the casual observer, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. But anyone who knew him understood that Wade’s relaxed demeanor was as dangerous as a rattlesnake coiled and ready to strike.

The creak of the door broke the stillness. Wade didn’t bother to move as Nathan Summers, Sheriff Summers to most, stomped in like he owned the place.

“Wilson,” Nathan growled, his gravelly voice cutting through the quiet.

“Ah, my favorite lawman,” Wade drawled, pushing his hat up just enough to flash Nathan a wide, toothy grin. “What brings you to my humble abode? Need me to scare off some rowdy cattle rustlers? Or are you just here to bask in my radiant charm?”

Nathan didn’t bother with pleasantries. He slapped a wanted poster down onto Wade’s desk. The face of Logan, the infamous outlaw known as the Wolverine, stared back at him.

“I need your help,” Nathan said, crossing his arms. “Leader of the most notorious gang this side of the Rio Grande. Robbed five banks in the last two months. Pulled a train heist just last week. Killed two deputies. Wanted dead or alive. He’s managed to evade capture so far, so we’re having to resort to,” he grimaced, his gaze dripping with disdain as he looked Wade up and down, “other means.”

Wade’s grin widened as he picked up the poster, studying Logan’s ruggedly handsome face. “Dead or alive, huh? My specialty. I’ll have him in a week. Two tops.”

Nathan scowled. “Just don’t go causing more trouble. Or wrecking shit like last time. The church still ain’t fully fixed.”

“You wound me, Summers.” Wade clutched his chest in mock offense. “I’m a professional. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an outlaw to catch.”

~~

Tracking Logan down wasn’t easy, but Wade wasn’t just any bounty hunter. He was thee bounty hunter. Deadpool always got his man. By the time he caught up to Logan, the moon was high in the sky, casting a silver glow over the riverbank where the outlaw sat, sharpening his knife.

Wade stepped out of the shadows, his hands resting casually on his gun belt. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Wolverine himself. Gotta say, I expected someone taller.”

Logan froze for a moment, then slowly stood, his piercing eyes narrowing as he took in Wade’s figure and signature red mask. “You must be Deadpool,” he remarked, his voice calm but edged with menace. “Heard about you. Reckon this is the part where you try to take me in.”

Wade smirked. “You reckon right. Though I gotta admit, you’re even prettier in person. Didn’t think outlaws were allowed to look this good. Seems unfair.”

Logan’s lip curled in a snarl, and in an instant, he lunged. The bounty hunter laughed, sidestepping the attack with ease.

“You’re feisty,” Wade said, dodging another swing. “I like that in a man.”

The fight that followed was a whirlwind of skill and fury. Logan’s strikes were calculated and brutal, while Wade’s movements were almost playful, a maddening dance of evasion and counterattacks. Finally, Wade managed to pin Logan to the ground, his knife pressed to the outlaw’s throat.

“Alright, peanut,” Wade said, looking down at him. His mask obscured his expression, but his voice dripped with amusement. “I can take you in warm, or I can take you in cold. And don’t tell anyone I said that, it’s from a completely different Disney franchise, and I don’t need the mouse on my tail.”

To his surprise, Logan grinned, teeth flashing in the moonlight. “You’re good,” he admitted, his voice rough but tinged with something like admiration. “Haven’t had this much fun in a fight in years.”

Before Wade could quip back, he was suddenly yanked off Logan and slammed into the dirt. When he looked up, he found himself surrounded by Logan’s gang. Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Hank.

Scott, ever the serious one, glared down at him. “We should kill him. He’s a bounty hunter. You know he’ll come after us again.”

“Yeah, I know,” Logan said, brushing dirt off his shirt as he rose to his feet. He glanced at Wade with a dark smirk. “But killing him now would be too easy. Tie him to the tree.”

Scott frowned, clearly unhappy with the decision. “That’s reckless, Logan. You know what he’s capable of.”

Logan’s expression hardened. “I said tie him up. You got a problem with that, Scott?” The others looked between them, uncertainty filling the air as Scott argued with their leader.

Scott hesitated for a long moment before reluctantly obeying. Muttering curses under his breath, he bound Wade’s hands and hauled him over to a nearby tree, securing him tightly.

As Logan and his gang mounted their horses, preparing to ride off, Wade called after him, amusement in his voice. “See you soon, peanut!”

Logan paused, glancing back at him. For a moment, something unspoken passed between them, a challenge of sorts. Then Logan tipped his hat, smirked, and rode off into the night.

Wade leaned back against the tree, chuckling to himself. “Oh yeah,” he giggled. “This is gonna be fun.”

[kawakalalala]

Outlaw: 1

INTRODUCTION POST!

wc: ~1.8k

tags: pretty much just kissing, nothing too crazy yet!

a/n: thank you all so much for being patient with me while i crank this bitch out! i’m really excited to see what u guys think :3

You’d heard the voice before. Hundreds of times. His voice rattled your bones like a late August thunderstorm over the lake.

“Hands up.”

You turn with your hands in the air expecting just to see Jerry Anderson, the sheriff who’d been after you since you were old enough to run.

There was never even a thought to not run. You could weasel your way out of anything; you’d been running your whole life. But something in you kept you from grabbing at the gun on your hip.

“Ain’t nowhere to run no more, huh?”

You weren’t sure what came over you. ‘Easy’ wouldn’t have even begun to describe how quickly you could kill this man. In a hundred ways. But you knew what you needed, and you knew what the way to get that was. It was surprising for you to see a second person, behind him, taller and broader, with a face hidden by the shadow of a hat.

“Looks like it.” You drop down to your knees and lay down your revolver, kicking it out of reach. The Sheriff was surely on top of the world right now. He’d been trying to get you for years after the killing. It was personal, but not on purpose.

The broader figure starts to move, slowly becoming illuminated by the soft glow of your campfire.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Abigail Anderson. You almost didn’t recognize her, but there was no way you could've forgotten the way her freckles bit her cheeks, the soft bump in her nose, and the softness of her jaw. She’d worn her hair in a braid then too, but now it was long enough to dangle past her shoulder blades. Had that much time really passed?

She passed you and walked up to Belle, the liver chestnut overo mare. She wasn’t as fast as she was when you met her; she needed a little more grace around turns, and her white fur started to bleed into warm brown on her face. You loved her more than you could love anything, because there wasn’t much to love about the life you led.

“Don’t tie her to your horse,” you turn to face Abigail, “she’ll bite him in the ass.”

She exhales with the faintest likeness of a laugh.

“How d’ya suppose we’ll get her back to town then?”

You shrug, knowing she’d follow you wherever you went. You don’t notice you’ve been handcuffed until you go to stand up.

Jerry Anderson was kinder to you than he should’ve been, considering what you’d done to him. His hand is heavy on your shoulder as you pull yourself onto his wagon.

✦✦✦

You wake up to the light from your cell’s window prodding at your eyelids. Large enough to see everything, (including Belle, hitched up outside, still sleeping).

“They decide where I’m goin’ yet?” You shout at Abigail, scribbling away on some papers near the front door.

There were a handful of things that were convenient about your position: the sheer size of your town made it so it was only necessary to have a few cells in the sheriff’s department. (if you could even call it that.) And that you always had company.

“No. We ain’t even sent out the mail this mornin’. Give it some time.” She laughs.

“Whatcha doin' over there?”

“Nothing,”

“Well ‘nothing’ seems quite time-consuming.”

She finally turns around and looks at you, and you see her clearly now. The light scar across her cheek, her soft blue eyes, her supple, soft pink lips, and the toothy smile she gives you when she asks, “What are you getting at?” Seeming only slightly annoyed.

“Nothing.”

“I’ll be sure to get the mail with your papers sent out today,” A smile pulls at her lips, but you don’t notice it.

You’re picking at your nails when you ask, “This all you do all day? Seems like I’m a mighty fine companion to keep around.”

“What do you do all day then? Steal and kill?” She turns back around in her chair.

“Pretty much,” you stand up and stretch, a groan escaping your lips. “I love murder.” You try to stay as deadpan as possible, but you can't hold back a giggle, sitting down with your back against the cell door and peering out the window at Belle.

“I’m serious,” her tone changes, “Why on earth would you want to live runnin’?”

“It was freeing once, “ you tell her, the back of your head against the heavy metal bars of the door, “but freedom gets lonely sometimes.”

“Seems real convenient that this revelation is gettin’ had after you been caught,” there's an edge to her voice, but it’s still smooth and cool, like a stone in the palm of your hand.

“It ain’t no revelation, darlin’, I just finally made a choice,” you say matching her edge as best you could, “and your Daddy ain’t do no catching, I let him have me. ”

“Bless his heart,” she says, “but I’ll believe you there. He couldn’t pour water out of a boot if the directions were on the bottom.” You both laugh, and for a brief moment, you forget what brought you here in the first place.

She turns around to look at you. For a brief moment, you and Abigail are 12 years old again. The wind whispers her name, and you’re watching the sunrise on your walk to school. You like her because she doesn’t talk about boys. She doesn’t talk about much of anything. You like her company, and she likes yours. At the end of your twelfth summer, she doesn’t want to walk with you anymore, and you don’t ask, or even wonder why. You walk to school alone until you drop out at 15. You turn to look at her.

The door opens, and you watch as Jerry walks in. The way he looks at you makes your stomach churn.

“Mornin’ sir,” you smile at him, and he ignores you.

“You can put her outside y’know,” he says to Abigail, like you aren’t even there. “them stalls under the barn lock.” He laughs, and your blood boils.

���We’ll see.” Abigail tries to forget about the hard part of this job. She’s always trying to forget about the hard part of this job. She knew you once.

You hold your tongue until Jerry leaves. He talks to Abigail a bit longer, and makes another offer to “get rid” of you for her.

Part of him stays when he walks out the door. Suddenly you realize what you’ve done. The fantasy of a free life might’ve been attainable if you were a less successful bandit, but there’s no way you’ll ever be a free woman.

You’re never going to be free. You’re going to die here, with a failed childhood friendship and a man who wants you dead. You’re never going to feel the sun on your skin again.

You’re going to die here or somewhere worse. You’re going to watch your life walk by you and you’re stuck behind bars because of a stupid one-off thought you had. Your breathing gets heavy and your head spins, and suddenly you’re grabbing onto anything you can get ahold of.

You should’ve fucking shot him.

✦✦✦

“What in the hell was that?” her voice is cool and smooth, even when she tries to have any semblance of urgency.

“Dunno.” You’re both on the ground. Her right hand cradles the back of your head, holding your hair off your neck, and her left holds a glass of water to your lips.

“That ever happen before?” Her eyebrows are furrowed with concern, and you stay silent, taking a sip.

She doesn’t seem to mind. She watches you intently, readjusting her hand on your neck. You set down the water and look at her.

“Why’ve you been so damn kind to me?” Your eyes well with tears, and her furrowed brow softens, just a little. “I’m a criminal, Abigail, I’m not- I’m not a good person.”

“I ain’t a good person neither.” Her voice is almost a whisper. “Have some more water.”

“Okay.”

You’d never been one to listen to anyone. You were entirely uninterested in being told what to do. But the way she spoke to you was different. You didn’t seem to have a problem taking orders from her, because she genuinely seemed like she cared. She wasn’t patronizing or arrogant.

“I’m sorry I stopped being your friend.” Her hand is warm against your skin.

“That was so many years ago.”’

“Don’t make me less sorry.” Her hand moves slowly from your neck to your jaw.

“I’ll give you a second chance,” Your eyes dart from her blue eyes to her lips, and for a moment, everything goes silent.

“I’d like that I think.” She inhales sharply, and drops her hand. “I got some paperwork to fill out. D’you need anything?”

“Yeah, I think so,” You say before kissing her softly, just once. You pull away and look at her, and you lift one hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She looks at you like you electrocuted her. “Think that’s all.”

Something clicks in her head and she lunges to kiss you. It's sudden, but it’s soft. She’s soft. You reach down to replace her hand on the meeting of your neck and jaw, and she places another hand on the small of your back. Tension releases in your shoulders that you hadn’t noticed was there in the first place. You place a hand on each of her shoulders and push her backwards, still following her lips with yours. You can feel the muscle in her shoulders, but she’s pliable and obedient in your hands.

Your tongues dance against one another with the same cadence as the wind in the grass at the end of your twelfth summer. And as the light of the sun on your twenty-sixth summer falls over the same grass, you pull away from Abigail to look at the small smile pulling at her mouth, the flush across her cheeks, her pupils blown and her lips only slightly swollen.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me for?” Her voice is almost a whisper.

“You’re beautiful, Abigail. Damn near the most handsome woman I ever seen.”

She can’t bring herself to say anything in response. She can’t even bring herself to look up at you. She can’t bring herself to lock you back in here, and sit out at her desk and watch, let the state take you away and hang you for your crimes.

“I’m gonna get you out of this goddamn place.”

“You’re what?”

[rainroses45]

What’s in your burger? pt2

☠︎︎description: so Dean decides to take a chance on you…so he takes you to Bobby’s but will they believe your story? (Dean Winchester x Ghoul Fem! Reader)

☠︎︎a/n: I FINALLY FINISHED THIS REQUEST and hopefully you enjoyed this part two (NOT EDITED)

☠︎︎song inspo: Cannibal-Kesha

☠︎︎warnings: umm dead ghouls and i think that’s it

Pt1

The Impala rolled into Bobby's salvage yard just as the last rays of sunlight dipped behind the horizon. Dean killed the engine, the rumble dying away, and glanced sideways at you. You hadn’t said a word since the cemetery, but the tension in the car was thicker than molasses.

“You sure about this?” you asked, breaking the silence. Sure, you could have killed the man in seconds, but then who else would help you salt and burn bodies.

Dean sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nope. But we’re here, so keep your claws to yourself, alright?”

You snorted, leaning back in your seat. “Relax, Hunter. I don’t eat people I’m forced to carpool with.”

“Comforting,” he muttered, grabbing his shotgun as he climbed out of the car.

You followed, scanning the salvage yard. It smelled like oil, rust, and faint traces of blood—a mix that put you on edge but didn’t scare you. As your boots crunched on the gravel, the sound of a slamming screen door drew your attention.

The one and only Bobby Singer stood on the porch, his shotgun resting on his shoulder, his sharp eyes narrowing as they landed on you. Behind him, the youngest Winchester emerged, his tall frame filling the doorway, his expression shifting from cautious curiosity to alarm.

“What the hell did you bring home this time, Dean?” Bobby asked, his voice gruff.

Dean groaned, his shoulders sagging. “Not this again.”

“She’s a ghoul,” Bobby said flatly, his grip tightening on the shotgun. "I'm used to your brother bring home demons and wounded vampires but you?"

You raised a brow, crossing your arms. “Wow, you’re quick with the quips for an oldie.”

Sam’s eyes darted between you and Dean. “And why is a ghoul here? Better question—why is she alive? I mean aren’t you the whole killing and burying hunter not the ‘i see potential for americas next top model.”

“I mean he ain’t wrong.” You smirked up. “I got the curves to kill another president.” Dean gave you a side eyes, holding back the urge to say, "you're not helping the situation out much."

“She’s not like the others,” Dean said, holding up a hand to stop the inevitable argument or whatever he would call this. “She’s… different.”

Bobby barked out a humorless laugh. “Different, huh? That what you’re calling it now? This ain’t no adopt me pound for puppies boy.”

“Listen,” Dean snapped, stepping forward. “She helped me take down a couple of feral ghouls last night. She’s got information we need. If she wanted to kill me, she had plenty of chances.”

Bobby’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t lower his shotgun. “And you believe her?”

Dean hesitated, glancing at you. “I do.”

You smirked, though your gaze remained fixed on Bobby. “If I wanted you dead, old man, you’d already be rotting in that scrapyard of yours.”

Bobby’s shotgun came up an inch, his finger twitching near the trigger. “You’re real bad at making friends, ain’t ya?”

“Not here to make friends,” you replied, your tone clipped. “I’m here because Dean dragged me here. He seems to think I’m worth keeping around.”

Sam stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “Why? What’s so special about you?”

“Well besides this amazing ass of mine I know a thing behind close doors. Ghouls don’t work together,” you said simply, meeting his gaze. “Not unless something bigger’s pulling the strings. And trust me, I know my kind. Something’s wrong, and if you want to stop it, you’re going to need me.”

Sam exchanged a wary look with Bobby, who finally lowered his gun—barely. “And why should we trust you?”

“Because I know how to think,” you said. “Not just act. And because I want this mess cleaned up just as much as you do. If something’s organizing ghouls, it’s bad news for everyone, including me.”

Sam frowned, but Bobby spoke first. “So, what’s pulling the strings?”

You hesitated, your jaw tightening as you glanced at Dean. “That’s the part I don’t know yet. But whatever it is, it’s strong. Strong enough to make even feral ghouls work together. And that’s not natural.”

*cue me* ( i guess you would say something supernatural ) *PUDUM PUDM*

Bobby grumbled something under his breath before gesturing toward the house. “Fine. Get inside. But if you so much as twitch the wrong way—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll blow my head off,” you said, waving him off as you followed Dean toward the house.

Sam fell into step beside Dean, his voice low. “You seriously trust her?”

Dean sighed, glancing over his shoulder at you. “I don’t know if I trust her,” he admitted. “But I believe her.”

Inside, the air was thick with tension. Bobby paced the room, his shotgun leaning against the wall, while Sam hovered near the table, his eyes flicking to you every few seconds like he was waiting for you to snap into a hungry monster.

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching them with an amused expression. “This is cozy,” you drawled. “Really like how the open floor plan allows you to soak up the lighting.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Bobby snapped, moving his decorations from you. Ain’t no one taking his hobby lobby decore from him. Nobody.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright, enough. She’s here to help, so let’s all stop measuring our guns and focus on the real problem. Bobby she ain’t going to be taking your fine china from dollar tree so relax.”

Bobby huffed but didn’t argue, only whispering a small “it was from family dollar idjit.” Sam, however, leaned forward, his eyes sharp. “If we’re doing this, I want details. Everything you know.”

You smirked, pushing off the wall. “Fine. But you’d better keep up, Boy Scout because it’s going to be a tongue twister.” And so the madness began.

[marinas-drafts]

|| Sarge & Lil Mama

|| Finishing What They Started ||

Blurb: 1k word count

Warnings: PG13 -Mentions of gun violence, assassination attempt, mentions of the murder of Sam Cooke, discussions about the real mob connections to record labels that threatened Cooke and others, Elvis being a protective husband and daddy, slightly misogynistic commands for a woman to give up her vocation??

Note: this is very much self indulgent for my own fascination with Sam Cooke and my theories regarding why he was shot dead in a Los Angeles motel while at the top of his fame, dismantling segregation with his performances, starting up a new label where artists owned their work and becoming publicly supportive of the likes of James Brown and Cassius Clay. He’s was RCA’s second most successful artist right behind Elvis Presley, a lovely human and an incredible artist, if you haven’t listened to him I throughly encourage you to, he’s groovy 💋 You may recall that in the proposal fic of Sarge, Elaine mentions having helped produce Cooke’s recent first record and Elvis urges her to marry him, there’s always time for music ventures after babies

Sarge & lil Mama Masterlist

February 1965

“Elvis, you don’t understand!” Elaine insists as if there’s nuance to the fact she’d just got shot at in broad daylight on Memphis’ Main Street with Jesse in her backseat.

“The hell I do!” He screams back, disheveled from the beating he’d administered her bought-off driver and gloriously beautiful in the greatest rage she’d ever seen take over him. Their sunny nursery on the top floor at Graceland was illuminated by a cheerful late winter’s sun and the pastel’s of the empty baby crib and curtains was in stark contrast to the dark mood hanging over the couple.

Elaine had gotten three shots into the windshield of the car that had done the drive-by and the Shelby county police were on a manhunt and giving Graceland’s phone an update call on the quarter hour.

Elvis hadn’t waited for no police when he’d heard shots outside the studio. Runnin’ out and finding no other culprit to get his hands on save the most recently inducted member of the Memphis Mafia who’d paused in a damn intersection plenty long enough to allow the hitmen to aim, fire and leave despite Elaine’s screams and threats. The man wasn’t recognizable in his mug shot, so swollen and bloodied was he from Elvis’ ire.

“Woman,” Elvis claws at his destroyed pompadour with gnarled hands, “you tell me our friend Sam Cooke didn’t die by accident, ya tell me he got taken out with two bullets in him and bled out on some seedy motel floor -not for some damn hooker but over y’all’s lil venture. You get your car windows blown out by a twelve gauge, my fanmail’s laced with love letters from the fuckin’ Chicago mob warnin’ us, sayin’ leave off the music level venture -or else. Ya tell me ya ain’t paranoid then ya ask me to let ya just keep at it? W-w-what do ya expect me to do, Tink? Huh? W—w-What?” he is bellowing at her by now, his terror coming out in anger, and Elaine just stares at his positively battered fists.

“E, your knuckle’s bleedin-“

“-don’t change the goddamn subject!”

“I’m not it’s just- it’s drippin.” she mutters meekly as the lemon yellow carpet specks from crimson drips.

He sticks the offending fist in his mouth and sucks at the cut before continuing, his voice shaking, “Ya tell me all this then ya insist on goin’ about your damn career! I don’t get ya. I really don’t get ya.”

“It’s not just my career, Elvis!” she begs, “It’s yours! It’s the future of dozens of independent record makers hinging on this. If I just lay back after this -we ain’t gonna have a free music industry where artists get their rights, own their work! We’ll always be payin’ up to the mob -and we ain’t ever gonna be free of Colonel without it! This is why they’re so damned scared, E, so scared they’d turn to murder! I’m doing this for us, keepin’ at it for you!”

“W-w-we got enough as is, Tink.” he whispers, eyes wide and scared for her as he looks down at her, pastel blue coat grimy and bloody as his hands, a mockery of their pristine little life. “We got enough as is, an’all that risk takin’ -i-it ain’t your job, sweetheart. That’s man's work.”

“They killed that man, Elvis.” she repeated disbelieving the truth that’s been haunting them these past two months. “They’ve killed Cooke. Our friend, my collaborator. Killed him dead. And they think they’ve got us all scared, ‘cept for me. And they tried to finish it today.”

“Yeah.” he agreed, eyes watering, “And I ain’t gonna let that happen to ya ever again, I just ain’t. Not even if I gotta chain ya to my bed.”

Elaine swallowed down the warmth she felt rush through her at his rampant protectiveness. “A couple more months and we’ll be set, we can switch you over, you’ll be independent.” she sniffles, “You won’t be beholden to the colonel. You’ll have options.”

“I-I-I d-don’t need rid of him, Tink?” he disagrees while his tone stays questioning, still unable to understand her icy animosity towards the man. “He done gave us all this!”

“-and to quote your mama, we don’t need all this.’ We never have.” Elaine replies, putting her hand over his fist as he’s walked closer to her seat on the edge of the nanny bed, “But it wasn’t him, it was you that gave us all this. He goes on like he’s connin’ the nation into lovin’ ya. What a fool. There’s not a soul on God’s green earth who didn’t love ya once they knew of ya.”

“I don’t need all them lovin’ me.” Elvis whispers, his eyes glued to her lips as he sits down beside her gingerly as if fearful he’ll hurt her while he’s still keyed up, “Jus’ you. Tink I can’t do nothin’ -nothin without ya.”

“Elvis, just give me a few months more,” she begs softly as they sway towards each other, “give me your men and guns and what else, but let me finish. For Sam. And for us.”

His nose brushes hers, long and elegant and nuzzling her cheek and the bridge of her own, nuzzling tears she didn’t notice she had shed, his breath ghosts over her parted lips.

“No.”

He answers as he slots his mouths over her own gasping one, dragging his lips over and up and to the side of her own, smooching her clean, savoring the softness of them like he nearly lost her.

Which he had. He almost had.

He grips her tighter and forces her to accept his terrified love, bending her backwards in his fervor, massive hand, so recently used to maul her attacker, now cradling the back of her neck tenderly, rubbing at the soft spots on either side of her skull.

“Elvis-“ she whimpers at the denial.

“No.” he mutters and shakes her by the neck like a kitten, “Lovin’ ya gives me enough right as it is, but I got more, you know I’ve got more reason. You're my children’s mother! You ain’t meant to be out there gettin’ shot at! Working nine to five like some sunnuvabitch’s damn Secretary. I married me a woman not a-a-“

“I’m doin’ this for us.” she insists weakly.

“And I’m the one who decides for us.” he reminds, his hand still firm on her neck and those lean, piano playin’ fingers span all the way to her pulse point, she thinks she feels pressure increasing there, “And I say no. Be my wife, Tink, be their mama. S’why I married ya.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me.

If you’d like to be tagged in this particular series please drop a note below. I’ll admit I’m disorganized and have trouble keeping all the requests sorted when they’re scattered, what I do check regularly are the requests in the notes for chapters -and I do manage to get those added. So, if you’ve put in a request and I’ve failed ya, or if you’re new and would like to be added, please pop a note below. Xoxo 💋

@paradsol000

@eliseinmemphis

@prompted-wordsmith

@ab4eva

@foreverdolly

@powerofelvis

@butlersxbirdy

@crash-and-cure

@elvisabutler

@heartbrake-hotel

@stylespresleyhearted

@thatbanditqueen

@crazymadpassionatelove

@myradiaz

@ash-omalley

@arianatheangelgirl

@steph-speaks

@burningloverdoll

@angelface-555

@lookingforrainbows

@missmaywemeetagain

@coolgirl462

@kingdomforapony

@18lkpeters

@richardslady121

@from-memphis-with-love

@lillypink

@artlover8992

@pennyroyalcreep

@notstefaniepresley

@ellie-24

@renaissingle

@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme

@presleyenterprise

@marriedtopresley

@ashtag2887

@dkayfixates

@vampireindistress

@ashtag6887

@i-r-i-n-a-a

@obsessedvibee

@peskybedtime

@goth-cowgirl-03

@stephthestallion

@fav-fanficssss

@loving-elvis

@honeyorangess

@soloangel

@xenaspace3-blog

@60svintage

[perfectlynervouskryptonite]

Just one step back

 TW: Vague reference to suicidal tendencies

hurt comfort fanfiction

platonic harley quinn x reader

synopsis: What happens when harley quinn notices you with dazed eyes standing at the edge of a rooftop ready to take a life altering plunge before your life's even begun, can she convince you take just one step back?

 As Harley skips down the street, humming a tune, she suddenly stops in her tracks, eyes catching a flash of something on the rooftop of a nearby building. Curiosity piqued, she squints, realizing it’s you—on the edge, clearly not in the best state. Without a second thought, her playful demeanor turns into one of frantic worry. 

“Hey! Whoa, hold up there, sugarplum!”, She called out preparing to launch herself up the building using the grappling hook gadget thing she had stolen from one of the bat brats, understanding she had to both be cautious to not startle you off the ledge meanwhile knowing she needed to get up there asap. She shot the hook and as she felt herself rushing upwards, her whole body weightless as air was rushing through her ears she couldn’t help but laugh, a girl could get used to this maybe the bats liked these toys so much because they were simply fun. She landed on the rooftop with a harsh plop sound she gracefully rolled to her feet and stood while tossing the gun off the rooftop as she no longer needed it. 

 Once on the rooftop, she sees you standing precariously, eyes glazed, body swaying as if caught between the weight of despair and the temptation of escape. Harley’s breath catches in her throat, her manic energy momentarily replaced with something softer, something urgent something Harley thought herself was long gone. 

"Hey! What do you think you’re doin’, huh?" she asks, trying to mask the concern in her voice with her usual playful tone. “You know you gotta leave that drama for the stage, sweetie. Ain’t no room for it up here.”

  Carefully she approaches you, when you look at her you notice a peculiar look in her eyes not what you’d expect to see in one of Gotham’s most wanted and dangerous villains, a soft protectiveness, and … Understanding, Harley was no stranger to heartbreak, or despair, she’s faced the worst Gotham has had to offer and experienced nearly every kind of neglect possible, she understood what it was like being unable to find that shiny little light at the end of the tunnel. Though of course she wouldn’t willingly admit that to anyone after all she had a reputation to protect, and she promised herself she’d never be anyone’s puppet or plaything again. 

  The kind of pain she saw in you was something she’s seen before though the last time she saw it was years ago when she looked in the mirror she didn’t know what monster it was that was lurking beneath your skin, or what ghosts were clinging to you, but what she did know was she couldn’t leave you like that. 

  “Hey toots dont ya make me come and grab ya, cause I totally will, I mean come on do you really wanna go teetering off this silly ol rooftop or would ya like to come and pat some hyenas”, she added that last part knowing it was weird enough to peak anyone’s interest and maybe silly enough to distract you maybe even enticing enough to get you away from such a precarious spot. Her voice was surprisingly gentle and soft yet playful you knew it was meant to be a threat but you just needed it to all be done. 

  When you don’t respond, Harley gets a tad bit impatient but not unkind, she’s stubborn in that way, if she sees something she doesn’t necessarily like she wont let it be till its remedied, afterall that’s what made her at the top of her class, and even at one time the top of her field, though that’s from another time and another life. 

  In a last ditch effort Harley resorts to humor. 

  "Oh c'mon, we’re supposed to be having a good time! Jumpin' off buildings? That’s so last season! What’s next? Trying to make the Gotham skyline a lot less… skyscrapey?”

   Harley notes the uncertainty that lights your features the way you seem to look between her and the streets below still clinging to the silence, it wasn’t that she would force you to speak if you weren’t ready she just wanted, no needed you to give yourself a chance afterall many thought her irredeemable and yet there were still those that gave her they’re hand and tried to help her find a new start she wanted to pass that forward. She was well aware she wasn’t necessarily a good person but she did have morals and a somewhat intact conscience. 

  A heavy fog of silence seems to weigh you down, you don’t wish to talk, hell you dont wish to do anything anymore, it was to much and the world to heavy, to loud, just to much you just needed it to all be done. Soon you turn back and face the streets below watching the cars rush past from up here they all look like little toy models, and the people like ants. You could almost imagine that this.. Life.. was only a nightmare, and the best way to make nightmares end.. Is by letting go maybe then you’d find peace.. 

  Harley now understanding you’re not going to change your mind, all the lightness and humor were now gone.

  “Hey look I’m serious, please just… take one step back just one, come on wouldn’t you at least like one person to hear your story before you go.. Look I know this thing .. life… its dirty messy and alot of times ugly.. But you know what isn’t ugly.. Falling apart asking for help, those things they’re human.. What do ya say toots will you give me a chance to hear your story, or if your not ready to talk we could sit.. Come on I have cute animal pictures on my phone, I also happen to know where catwomen gets her stray cats we could go pat them”, at this she wiggled her eyebrows with a soft smile while also holding out her hand.

  This was weird you didn’t understand why she would care, but you also didn’t wish to be the cause of someone else’s trauma, or inconvenience anyone else, that was the problem with living in a place like gotham,  its a city that never sleeps, even in the most secluded of places there would always be someone there for better or worse. 

  “Just one step back thats all”, you let out a soft breath still feeling numb and exhausted you close your eyes for a moment trying to weigh the options before you, yet there really was only one option, one couldn’t fade into the darkness and have others forget them if someone is watching you die.. Reluctantly and a little dissapointed you take a single step backafter all she did say only one step. You felt a hand grab yours and gently pull you a couple steps away. Then she took a few steps back and sat down in front of you criss cross apple sauce pulled out her phone and turned it over to show you photos of her with… Hyenas?! 

  She smiled,

  “After all I did promise cute animal pics, and an introduction to my babies and i am a women of my word”.  You didnt really know what to think or do but you noticed that your feet hurt and there were heavy harsh sheets of painfully cold rain coming down, yet despite that neither of you made any attempt to seek shelter instead you sat next to her in companionable silence as she continued to chatter away about her “babies”, and kept showing you pictures of strays in gotham. It was.. Kinda nice.. And somehow fitting while she was loud and outgoing, she didn’t seem to mind your continued silence. 

  “Ya know toots, you really dont have to do things alone, this thing called life there is more to it then standing or sitting at the very edge of it.. Just know if you want me to be I’ll be around”. Despite this being one of gotham’s so called worst villains you could tell she was genuine, you also got the feeling she wouldn’t be leaving your side any time soon, and maybe that was okay. Despite the heavy dread that clung to you for the first time in months you felt… Something.

FIN

[jackiequick]

Meeting your boyfriends sister | Hangman fanfic ✨

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Amber ‘Skysolo’ Kazansky

Timeline: Post-Top Gun Maverick

Summary: She didn’t think she would ever be nervous about something like meeting the family. She has done it plenty of times before but what happens you boyfriend Hangman Seresin’s sister comes to town?

Charcters mentioned: Elena "Enigma" Seresin, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado, Georgia “Peach” Wells and etc.

Top Gun Maverick AU

——

Amber Kazansky had been though a lot in her lifetime so far. From moving around as a child to different states to watching her aunt Carol die in her teens. Hell she has seen her father go through cancer and survive it.

She has seen friends break up, others get married and move on with their lives. So it was something she was fine with.

It was part of life, meeting people and trying to see if things worked. And if they did, you meet your lover’s friends. They get to meet your parents, seeing if they approve of your relationship.

But meeting her boyfriend’s sister? That was not one of them. So imagine her surprise when she founds out she’s in town for the weekend.

She. Was. Actually. Terrified! 

Yeah she Amber has met a boyfriend or two’s brother and sister in the past. But a naval base boyfriend’s siblings? Never. Jake Seresin was her first boyfriend to be a pilot and a damn good one. Sadly he wasn’t good at breaking news like this.

Because he decided to break the news right before they went to sleep the night before. He said he had something to tell over dinner but forgot about it. But he remembered it right before he turned off the bathroom light and jumped into bed with her.

And he said it so casually too! Like it was the most normal thing in the world?! She knew he had siblings but she wasn’t expecting for her to come over to visit her in the next 24 hours.

Which lead her to find herself roughly tapping her French tips against her desk the next morning. Biting the tip of her nail on one hand as the other typed away furiously on her keyboard. She was filing in information for her father. His assistant, Mindy, sent a small stack of paperwork for her transfer over into spreadsheets within the next couple of days.

She was so focused on her laptop screen, having Rocket Man playing from her speakers, that she didn’t hear friend come in.

Georgia smiled chatting with Bradley at the door as he gave one kiss goodbye before she walked in. She hung up her jacket and set her lunch down on table nearby, grabbing her laptop from the cart. She left it charging earlier beforehand.

“Hey Amber.” She said with a peachy grin on her face as she started rambling about her morning. It was the cutest thing. Her eyes fell onto the blonde who was only half playing attention to what happened, making the brunette pause in her tracks.

“Uhh, earth to Sky? Amber, honey? Hello?” Georgia asked, waving a hand in the air and sighed, “Kazansky!”

“Huh?! What? I’m here, sir!” She yelled snapping out of it, ripping her fingernails away from the tips of her teeths, “Oh, what’s up sweets?”

“I was talking to you and you weren’t listening. That’s what’s up! What’s going on? Your usually cracking a joke by now.”

“You know. I can be very busy, busy, busy bee!”

“Ha! No. That ain’t it. Your always on a semi-busy monthly schedule but this is different. What happened? Was it Rooster and Jen?”

“No..”

“Uhh, hmm. Did Coyote say something stupid again?”

“No he didn’t. Neil didn’t do anything either.”

“Ohh was it Cyclone’s girl Valkyrie?! She’s a tough cookie!”

“No it wasn’t. Nor was it anyone else like Frostbite.”

Georgia’s eyes widen and gasped, “You and Jake had a fight? What did his sorry southern ass to do you? I’ll talk to him. I’ll get Phoenix and Frost as my backup. No one hurts my girl and gets away with it!”

Amber couldn’t help but laugh as she leaned against her chair. Peach was such a doll sometimes. Always so sweet and charmingly spiritual with the way she carried herself. She tend to get nervous and annoyed sometimes but other than that she was well..a peach!

Honestly she needed that today. A laugh from a friend.

“That’s not exactly what Jake said…it wasn’t a fight! We didn’t fight each other for anything. Oh god, I’m sweating. I don’t like this.” Amber admitted with a soft chuckle.

“Oh god something is up if you’re sweating bullets out of nervous. Come on, spill it out!” Georgia encouraged with a certain look.

“I’m meeting my boyfriends older sister today!”

“OH MY GOD! That’s great. From what I received from past relationships, that’s a good thing. That means he likes you, a lot! I’m so happy for you!”

“Now is not the time to be supportive! I’m freaking out, what if she doesn’t like me? What if she hates me and tells Jake stop dating me?! Tell him to aim higher?! That I suck! Cause technically, it’s kinda my fault I put him on a death defining mission to come back to Top Gun. Oh god she’s gonna hate me!”

Georgia stood there with her jaw dropped onto the damn floor. This was one of the first time she ever seen Amber Nic Kazansky in such a frenzy. This woman was always cool, calm and collected from the moment she met her. Giving her advice, by saying if everything is okay and sending a message to everyone on deck she meant every word she ever said.

Yeah sure, she had her moments where she lost her cool like an X-Men during a fight with Wolverine or something. Living up to her callsigns. Like when Jake and Bradley were arguing in the classroom or when Cyclone refused to listen to her and Maverick during the missions they went on.

But this?!

Here she stood in her office freaking out over meeting the family. It was honestly kinda hilarious to her. If she wasn’t such a good friend she would’ve recorded this and sent this whole thing as a video to the group chat.

But honestly it was cute though. It reminded people like her that the Kazansky family was just as human as the rest of them.

It was Georgia turn to calm her down.

“Hey, Amber. Amber, honey look at me. Look at me. Good. Just relax you’re gonna be fine.” Georgia encouraged, holding her shoulders.

“Wh-how? Sorry. How did you react to meeting Jen? She’s practically like a sister to Rooster.” Amber replied, taking a breath.

“Yeah well, I was freaking out cause her dad is sorta a legit legend, but I found her that she’s a total goofball. So maybe eh-what’s her name?”

“Elena.”

“Right, pretty name. Maybe Elena is the same way, just some cool chick. So go on, your gonna be late.”

“But what if she doesn’t like me and Jake didn’t say anything about me? Oh god what if she hates blondes?”

“Ok, now your rambling. Relax, you just gotta prove why your the first Mrs. Hangman. That ring on your fingers means something, right?”

“Right. Right..i yeah, I got this.”

“You got this! Now go on, I have a meeting with Wraith now.”

“Okay but..”

She didn’t have a moment to say anything else because Georgia practically pushed her out the door. She could’ve sworn she’s rubbing off on the brunette with her actions. Amber relaxed her shoulders, she was right. Elena probably a cool girl, relaxed and lay back.

But she was also beauty.

She seen the picture of her last night before she went to sleep. She was stunning with beautiful long blonde hair, pretty eyes glowing like a goddess of the sun and a lovely smile that take someone’s breath away. From just her pictures she seemed like the best women in the world.

A ray of sunshine wrapped up in pretty dress.

Hell she wanted to date her!

The moment Amber entered the cafeteria, her heart stopped. She saw her.

God she was even prettier in person. Laughing in mid conversation with Frostbite—Rachel, chatting about god knows what. 

Elena was enjoying herself greatly. It made her smile.

Her outfit was so sweet, her smile was sung by as she laughed and her makeup made her shine.

Amber pushed her hair out of face walking over to the pair who sat at the table, chatting about they’re active services. Once she got closer she heard them a lot clearer.

“Oh stop it!” Elena said mid laugh waving her hand, “You’re the one who got her first air to air kill last week. You should be overjoyed! It’s amazing.”

“Ok it’s not as cool as you! Yeah sure, Jenny and Wraith encouraged me to do it but still.” Rachel added with a chuckle, “You have been to so many different places. That’s awesome.”

Both girls acknowledge her walking over to them.

Frost smiled sheepishly and chuckles, “Hey, have you met Elena? She’s new.”

“No, I haven’t.” Amber repiled with a soft smile turning to the blonde, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Elena said with a smile, “Nice dress.”

“T-thanks. So is yours, I love the pattern!”

“Thank you! I got it from H&M, big sale last month.”

Rachel got a phone call and realized it was one of their friends, excusing herself as she left with a small wave. That left both women to stand there awkwardly chuckling, before Elena realized what her was name again. She remembered her brother telling that her that his girlfriend worked here in the building.

She assumed this was her? But she could be wrong.

So she smiled pointing to the seat in front of her and said, “Sit. Please. Sorry I’m a little nervous, which is rare because I’m not like this.”

“It’s fine, I’m nervous too. Jake has told me about you.” Amber repiled with a smile, sitting down across from her. 

“Ohhh! You’re his girlfriend? I’m sorry, he didn’t even show me a picture of you, just told me your name. He just told me that I’ll probably bump into you today.”

“Hahaha! He told me the same thing, he can silly sometimes.”

“No, he can be an idiot sometimes.”

Both girls chuckled breaking the ice a bit.

“He just said, ‘hey since your coming here for the weekend! Come meet my girlfriend.’ That’s all he said.” Elena explained with a chuckle, “I was supposed to be here last week but my boss decided to change my schedule.”

“No, it’s okay! Things happen, my schedule ain’t always the clearest either. Literally Jake just threw that information at me last night so casually. I was freaking out…I mean, you sound cool according him.” Amber repiled as she shyly smile.

Elena found it cute. How did her brother get a someone like her? She seemed so sweet and honestly pretty nice. She felt bad she didn’t get information from her baby brother beforehand, she was completely clueless about this girl.

But it a good thing in her opinion, a clean slate.

“Sounds like him, she tends to tell people stuff and never make himself clear. He’s like a bird strike, I guess.” Elena said with a smile, thinking about all the times her little brother messed up.

“Oh your correct. He knocks someone off course and brings you along for the right. But it’s a nice ride.” Amber added thinking about something and smile, “How about we start over?”

“How so?”

“It’s kinda been a long week for us and I think we should just relax..”

“I like that. Actually I love that! Good idea.”

Amber smiled holding out her hand for the blonde to shake and said, “Hi, I’m Amber Nic Kazansky. Very nice to meet you, Ms. Seresin.”

“Haha! Nice to meet you too, Ms. Kaz—” Elena replied, stopping herself realizing what she just heard and laughed, “Wait! Kazansky?! You’re the Admiral’s daughter?”

“Hahaha yes. Why? I’m sorry that last name kinda surprises people.”

“Surprises people?! How did-? No offense, but i thought the admiral’s kid would have guards nearby or something…sorry.”

It was Elena’s turn to become shocked and a bit nervous but excited all at the same time.

She didn’t know her baby brother was dating the admiral’s kid?! For how long, she didn’t know. He aimed high! Respectfully, she would date an admiral’s kid too if they let her. Even steal her brother’s girlfriend off his hands!

She was impressed. Very impressed.

Amber chuckled, “It’s okay. People like to make rumors around here.”

“Real question, how did my brother pull you? No offense, but he’s a little stupid.” Elena replied with a laugh.

“I guess I like ‘em a little dumb.”

“Oh I like you.”

“Hahaha, the Seresin siblings are one of a kind.”

“And clearly my brother has good taste in women. He got it from me! Where do you work?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing!”

“You first.”

“Okay um. I’m a training officer for recruitment here. I overlook plenty of paperwork for research, send people on missions and organize them.”

“Lieutenant, huh? Respect. I’ll love to see your office some time.”

“What about you?”

“Oh! I work as a lead engineer at the aerospace engineering firm.”

“Wait! Really? That’s so damn so cool.”

“Thanks! I worked on designing cutting-edge aircraft with advanced maneuvering capabilities. All kind of planes.”

“How have we not met before?”

“I have no idea.”

“My uncle Mav, he was the one to worked with you guys for a project a while back. Uh, The Darkstar projects?”

“Yes! That was him?! Everyone was talking about it! He reached so high on the list that day and survived being ejected.”

Both girls laughed, kept chatting and smiling the whole time.

Amber decided to walk her around the building and probably head out to lunch later on. Elena smiled liking that idea very much, holding the door for her as they walked out of the room. Realizing they had nothing to worry about, it was all Jake’s fault that they were so nervous in the first place.

Little did they know Jake Seresin was sitting across the room with Rachel, Javy and Neil watching the whole thing, with his jaw on the floor. He glad they didn’t hate each other or anything but he wasn’t expecting for it to go so well.

Neil was laughing at his reaction and muttering, “Your screwed now.”

“W-what just happened?” Jake asked, sipping his glasses of a water.

Rachel snorted, “I think your sister just stole your girl. Honestly i don’t blame Amber, she’s cool. I’ll date her.”

That was when Jenny walked in with a smirk hearing her and asked, “Who would you date, Frosty?”

“Uh huh? What? Shut up, I’mma shut up now.” Rachel said, rested her head on her shoulder.

“Weirdo.” Jenny repiled with a scoff, grins at Javy and asks, “What we talking about?”

Javy grinning back and chuckles, “The Seresin siblings.”

“I made a huge mistake letting my sister and girlfriend meet, didn’t I?” Jake added downing his drink with a sigh.

His friends just laughed.

Thanks for reading this one! Tell me what did you think about it?

Remember to like, comment and share ✈️

Tags: @mandylove1000 @gaminggirlsstuff @hanlueluver @gcthvile @topgun-imagines @hangmanbrainrot @sherloquestea @rooster-84 @whitewiccan @msrochelleromanofffelton @buckysteveloki-me @djs8891 and etc

[glittercake]

would you ever write more sam in lingerie? 🫣

Here you go, Anon:

E | 800w | some more lingerie here | and another one here.

Getting undressed after missions is honestly the highlight of Bucky’s day. He can't wait to get rid of all the straps and leather and buckles that protect and bind him, kick his boots off and feel the cold tile under his feet. 

Sam’s quick to unbuckle the suit, too. And, alright, perhaps Bucky lied. This has got to be the highlight of his day. He always loves watching Sam suit-down, watching his worn knuckles work that zip open from his neck to his navel. The way he lets the top half hang around his waist while he stretches his arms and cracks his neck. It’s enough spank bank material for a lifetime. Never mind that he gets to take Sam home every night, have him all to himself in all kinds of dirty ways. 

But tonight, when Sam slides the zipper down, Bucky’s in for something else entirely. 

At first he’s not sure he’s seeing correctly. He is one hundred and seven goddamn years old and maybe all those years are finally catching up to him. 

He squints, tilts his head sideways, but then Sam catches him looking and smirks, and Bucky just knows he’s not mistaken.

Because, yeah, underneath the stealthy navy blue and muted silver vibranium, there’s a glimpse of scarlet lace peeking out. 

“Sweetheart,” Bucky says, dropping his gun harness on the carpet. He can’t tear his eyes away from Sam’s chest. Thinks he’s gotta be dreaming. “What the fuck is that?”

“What’s what, Buck?” Sam’s got that pretty little smile dancing across his lips. One that is all too insinuating for how innocent he’s acting. 

“No, come on,” he says, goes over. Sam lets him yank the suit open, slide it down his arms. “Jesus fucking Christ?” He looks at Sam—who has an infuriatingly content air about him—but his eyes struggle to focus on one place. 

The lace is so delicate he thinks one solid tug could rip it apart. It spans over Sam's chest, little satin strings looping the balls of his shoulders to hold it up. Bucky’s thumb slips underneath. Sam’s battle warm skin and the smooth fabric sends an electric vibration up his left arm and it gives a deep mechanic purr. 

“Oh, that got you going, huh?” Sam licks his lips. Bucky’s eyes flip up to him when he speaks. His brain’s going way past the speed limit, trying to comprehend this. “There’s more, though.” 

“Darlin’,” Bucky says, incredulous, “what more could there possibly be?” His eyes fall back to the red lace clinging to Sam’s skin. He wants to yank Sam’s body against his, has an inexplicable urge to press that dainty material against his rough leather gear and buckles, wants to see the contrast. Wants to feel it. Wants to fuck Sam just like this bent over the counter. 

And then Sam slips the suit over his hips and there really is more. God, there’s more. That was a dumb question.

Same delicate lace, same bright red, draped over the dips that cut down from his hip bones to his dick. 

“Fuck,” Bucky says, he frowns then looks up. “You had this on the whole goddamn time?” 

Sam shrugs. “Maybe. You like it?” he laughs, steps out of the suit so it’s just him in this get-up standing in front of Bucky. 

“Sweetheart, that ain’t the word.” He smooths his hands down Sam’s sides and Sam arches into the touch. Bucky slips his fingers underneath the thong’s straps and pulls, watches it dig into Sam’s skin. He lets his fingertips travel forward until he reaches Sam’s bulge trapped behind the lace. He pauses, careful with the dainty fabric, then traces his finger tip ever so gently along the thong’s seam and Sam’s shaft.

Sam shudders from the bare touch, dick twitching in its confinement, and finally leans in to kiss Bucky. And that does it, it derails any other thought Bucky has going on. He scoops Sam up, lowers him to the floor, and gets his mouth on the lace. 

Sam grabs at his hair, and for a second he regrets growing it out because it stings, but that soon melts into a feverish want in his gut. He bites down, gets a good mouthful of Sam’s pec and red lace in his mouth, sucks his nipple through the fabric. Feels Sam squirm beneath him, urging him on. 

“Shit, baby,” Sam says, reaches between them and gets Bucky free of his zip, lines them up—bare skin on lace—and then sighs like it's balm on a wound for him. “If I knew this was all I had to do to get you on me—”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky cuts him off, groans when his cock finally rubs up against Sam's. “Fuck—All you gotta do is look at me, you know that.”

Sam bites at Bucky's bottom lip, tugs at it with his teeth, and smirks because he knows. Of course he knows that.

He’s known that since they first laid eyes on each other.

[gummybearzgocrazyagain]

kinn/porsche fic rec

Fake Dating AU

Tell Me That You Love Me (even if it’s fake) by @whitewalkers [luuuuuv me a fandom as ripe with fake dating trope as kp, it never quite loses it’s charm innit. kinn has a high school reunion to attend, and of course why not use it as a ploy to sway his most annoying bodyguard into confessing his nascent feelings... well-done, tis a rec]

Vigilante/Special Agent AU

Deep Like a Coastal Shelf by @Lilla_Torg [aight so this is an author with the very distinguished storytelling pattern, that i can not help but appreciate, their world-building and characterization is usually top notch, and this particular babie is not an exception: porsche and chay were brought up by someone from the syndicate that targets organized crime, and now that people, who used to call themselves their parents, are gone, Porsche is left with the ominous List, and a black leather vigilante suit, to keep their legacy alive. korn and gun are dead, Main and Minor fams are combined, tankhun has taken over as the Leader. kinn handles their overseas ops. amazing quality of storytelling, as always. DNI if you can’t handle pairings other than kp, as this is a multi-pairing piece, as it is customary for this author. but again, the story is so good, i didn’t even skip kimchay/vegaspete bits, which is a feat on it’s own. max kudosssssss]

the house don’t fall (when the bones are good) by @bytheriveriwept [i often say that i luved some works, but there are works i luved, and then there are works i LUVVEEEEEEDDDDDDDD with my whole-ass heart, this bit of genius masterpiece is the case of the latter. kp are special agents, colleagues, parts of the same organization, cohesive unit, and all that. only until porsche decides to take on risqué assignment, and go undercover. will they still be them, when he is back....? what can i say, this was sooooooooo up my alley in so many ways, i don’t even wanna say no more, if you haven’t read this.... what the hell is you even doing]

Third person POV

First Impressions by @AirgiodSLV [oooohhhhh how i luv me some piece of delicious 3rd person pov, yummmmm, Bank is a new hire for the Major fam, and this is the first time he is present at the meeting between the families.... yumm👌]

Alternative Meeting AU

stumbling to the edge by @FireRisingOverTheHills [absolutely delightful and underrated series for those who is not looking for heavy feels: it is light-hearted, sweet, well-written and entertaining, all without being angsty or plot-twist-heavy. despite the alternative meeting, it is still pretty much in-universe compliant. kp meet at a bar under different circumstances, but end up pretty much in the same compromising position that we all love to see them in. much kudos🙏]

the less i know the better by @mslunita [yummmmm, delicious morsel of tinder hookup-turned-softness, i really enjoyed this one: kp initially meet on the apps, and yet, being themselves, immediately turn this motha all soppy and lovey-dovey, - extremely canon-complaint, if you ask me. exactly the kinda content i am here for🙏 super-well done]

For Want of Fighting by @Mara [this fandom sure does luuuuuuv it some alternative meetings aus, huh, and i ain’t about to complain. great short piece, Businessman AU, first meeting is not too drastically different to canon, but the context does slightly differ. very entertaining and def a rec]

Sports AU

Salt by @ronadnhermy [oh. my. god. what a fucking catch, luv luv luved ittttttt, so well-written, so entertaining, there is plot, there is emotional turmoil, morally dubious kinn, maybe the younger versions of them is not exactly my jam, but with such quality, who cares... porsche is like 18-19 and on the Thailand National Taekwondo team, kinn is in uni, and sees something he likes, thangs spiral from there... super recommend, ah-mazing, allllllll the kudos]

bar owner!porsche AU

like real people do by @motherfleckers [Kinn is a celeb, Porsche owns a tiny bar in a tinier fishing town, simple premise with a delightful resolution: eyebrows, usual canon levels of audacity, motorcycle rides, and, most importantly, kinn’s dick is not small. it’s very very good (the fic, not kinn’s dick, although that too). major kudosssssssss]

Now make your bed (now lie in it) by @deliciousblizzardshark [2-for-1 tropes sale, apart from bar owner!porsche, you get accidental babie acquisition, my beloved <33333 fair warning, one must brace themselves for being gutted with longing, as well as general adorableness of kinn going “i’ve only had this random babie for 1,5 days but if something happens to her imma end everyone in this establishment and then myself”, adored this one sooooo much, prolly one of my personal faves, sooooooo many kudosssssss]

Cabin crew AU

before i leave, i want it a thousand times by @mslunita [despite somewhat disparaging reputation real-life cabin crew have acquired in my city, i clearly have no issues reading porsche being one slutty flight attendant, and hey, when your client is kinn anakinn theerapanyakul, who could actually blame him for slightly loosening his morals up on occasion, right? certainly not me, you go boiiiiii]

Historical AU

Love and the Art of War by @fortunehasgivenup [oooooowwwwww yassss, this is sooooo far up my alley it ain’t even funny. first of all, this author is everything, man, love all their fics, must reads, all of them. this specific babie is sooooo precious though: set in some nebulous middle ages, it’s a war camp setting, kinn has been away from home for months, and upon returning from some battle or other, gets an unexpected visitor waiting for him inside his tent. ngl, i would have read 200k of this, but author gave me 4, and i lapped them up like a man starved. perfection, truly. not to mention the use of “anakinn” in any context just does it for me🤷‍♀️]

Sex worker adjacent AU

escort AU by @Oscarian_Flame [Porsche joins the same agency kinn has been a long-term client of, and the universe expands from there. well-written and fun to explore, with interesting oc’s, worth a read for sure!]

Cliff Jump by @AirgiodSLV [ooohhhhh yeahhh babie we talking with this one💅 soooo.... vegas is using the same agency, and it kinda triggers kinn’s competitive side, earning him a certain...  reputation. once every twink is bangkok is so exhausted that ain’t noone is able to deal with his over-the-top shite no more, the agency sends someone who has enough stamina to withstand the lengthy bounds of athletic... interactions. yeahhhhh, you guessed it. so very entertaining and plot-twisty. so very delightful]

even though you’re not mine, you’ve got that look in your eyes by @fortunehasgivenup [highly highly doubt there are people left in this fandom who have not read this masterpiece, and yet could not exclude it from the recs, it’s that spectacular. if one must create escort-by-misunderstanding AU.... do it to such level. spectacular work, allllll the kudos]

Night Call by @ziusik [one of my fav pieces in this fandom no cap, if you know this author, you know, i obvi adore every single word of both mileapo and kp this author has everrrrr written, and this particular stripper!porsche au with absolutely helplessly besotted idiot-kinn is outa this worldddddddd great. it’s like if “under the influence” by cb was a fic, the vibe is simply immaculate]

Comedy/Crack

Wilderness Camp by @housseao3 [wholesome and endearing piece of fun, i lichrally cackled multiple times, i meannnn, tankhun with his rompers, chan/tay, sugarplum/chicken, unforgettable ken/groundskeeper....? adorable, entertaining and praise-worthy attempt at light-heartedness and humour, super-well done]

School/Uni AU

let there be no barriers (between you and i) by @anakinn [being both adorable and hot is a general qualifier for ending up on my rec page, so here it goes as well. porsche has had a crush on one of his classmates for the better part of their university journey. one day being bored in class, he decides to test some random online advice, and see whether anyone of his mates is a mind-reader.... you guessed it folks, one particular person just might be. short and to the point delicious morsel of general canon-appropriate kp horniness for eo <3]

i gave a second chance to cupid by @haeseolar [omnomnomnom *chomps down on this fic with gusto* you know the feeling you get while consuming media, this overwhelming regret that the magnificent piece of work you’re currently devouring has already been perceived by you, and you never get to experience it for the first time ever again...? big time my energy while reading this one, what a mind candy, i reeeeeeeeeally enjoyed it🙏🙏🙏 kinn is 39, he is teaching lit at a private school, when the new 24yo PE teacher joins their roster fresh off uni... i dunno what to tell you, this author just gets it, when i say all the kudos, i quite literally mean all the possible kudos for this one]

Various in-universe AUs

The One Where Porsche and Kim Are Gym Buddies by @fortunehasgivenup [oooiiii, what fun, what funnnnnn: kim and porsche are both in the fights, and occasionally meet at the gym... reluctant comradery ensues. they talk to each other about their respective crushes, none the wiser that they have been railing each other’s nong and phi... what else is there to say, the author is so good i even attempted to read kimchay, which is practically unheard of, lich-rally all the kudos]

Here With You by @Yeetyeetbroski [daaaaaaaamn sonnn, the tension, the tensionnnnnn..... “scrumptious” is an understatement for what a treat it was. thank you dear author, much much MUCH kudos p.s. while you’re at it, i’d recommend to go through this author’s whole catalogue, their rendition of kp dynamic is a delight to read]

The Aftermath by @Yeetyeetbroski [yippy, the softness <3333333 So this is an Ep 6 aftermath, an AU for Ep 7. absolutely lovely and adorbs. soft besotted kinn is universally accepted as one of the fandom fav versions of kinn, so in regards of delivering on this front this fic is def up there. awesome read]

Post-canon

Storm to Weather by @archay [it was soooo good, i luv this typa vibe, bitter-sweet, but hopeful <333 the theerapanyakul empire is done for, and kinn and porsche are out to fend for themselves in a real world. tis a rec]

Whittled Down by Another War by @rageprufrock [i... are there even words... abso-fucking-lutely legendary piece, the way theerapanyakul bros dynamic is portrayed in this.... damnnnnnnnnnn, if there is anyone, literally anyone left who has not read this yet... what the fuck are you doing with your life, GO READ THIS ABSOLUTELY MINDBLOWING FIC]

fell in love with the fire long ago by @builtempires [wieeeeeeeeeeee, what a tasty treat: kinn is away on business, and a certain head of the minor family decides that sending his partner some racy pics while separated by thousands of miles would help the situation... it both does and doesn’t. very entertaining, super hot, much kudos]

Magic AU

Instinct by @the-wayside [ohhhhh this bloody gorgeous muthafuckin thang.... i remember being so overwhelmed after reading initial chapters that i even dmed the author, cause it was cloying at my skin, the story is superb. not everyone, but many people got an instinct living inside of them, and what do you think happens when kinn goes to some random underground fight held at some random seedy club and his instinct meets porsche.... yeppp. something about reading how the most animalistic, primal part of kinn wants and longs for what is his is just.... maaaaaaaan, If you haven’t read it yet and there is still an opportunity for you to experience it for the first time, i am so fucking envious no cap]

Poring Down Crimson Fire by @Lilla_Torg [whatttttttt, this was fucking insane, like...??? the world-building??? i fucking can’t, off the charts, insert chief kiss emoji size of a sun. i don’t even know how to rec something like dat, just... insanely devastatingly interesting story, and yeah, technically it’s not even kp fic per se, cause the whole fucking gang be giving off main character vibes. must read]

+

bonus:

MILEAPO

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disclaimer: realizing how tricky the whole topic of rpf might seem, i myself have not dipped a toe in this pool in a long, long time, therefore do completely understand and accept any potential discomfort anyone may have with using names/likeness of real people for fanfiction writing purposes. kindly, if you are uncomfortable with the topic, do not proceed any further, thank yew. p.s. also, as it has been noted so many times before, if you didn’t want us to write/read fanfiction about you, maybe you shouldn’t look at your work colleague like dat, bruv, just saying

......................................................................................................................

Starting Ambitions by @iffervescent [abo rpf, fucking masterpiece, luv this story sm]

Marked by @oliviacirce [yeahhhhhhhh... this. this was... an experience. they are about to film the scene in pete/porsche’s room, but the special effects person is out with the stomach flu, and there is no one to apply the fake hickies to apo’s neck. mile comes up with the brilliant idea that saves the day. no words, only squeals and cheers]

Whole New Kinds of Weather by @archay [short, sweet, hot and to the point 👌 after the NYE 2023 the whole team comes back to Tong’s for an after-party (for the live of me, i dunno why is it always Tong in the fics, tis has become some kind of established fanon by now), and thangs transpire in his bedroom (sorry, phi!!! pls don’t kill them)]

obviously, every single word @ziusik has ever written, especially Limerence, your lips in the street lights, and of fucking course, just a step away, which is definitely one of my fav ma fics everrrrrr and forever fandom classic

and finally...

said you’d be coming back this way again, baby by @concernedlily [this is what i’d call an ultimate ma fic, jokes aside, if there would be a limited amount of fics a person is allowed to read in they lifetime, this would make the cut every time for me. no matter how many wonderfully written, extremely talented ma works are out there, this would always be the ma fic for me, absolutely fandom-forming, i can never praise this work enough]

[collectingmuses]

A/N: In which I was inspired and wrote a drabble about Jack's complicated situationship with his vampire frenemy.

“I am a patient boy...I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait.” Fugazi played from the car radio as Jack West found himself murmuring along to the lyrics, amused at how it mirrored his vigil. He sighed to himself, currently sprawled on top of the hood of his beaten up sedan, his back leaning against its cracked front window, lounging lazily with his legs crossed. “My time, water down the drain.”

The sun was setting, its orange hues giving the wrecking yard a hazy glow as it continued its descent, barely peeking out now over the mountains of scrap and rusted metal. Jack’s own car felt right at home here among the junkers. It wouldn’t be long now before he’d have to seek out a new vehicle, his current on its last legs. That was a problem for later, however. At the moment, his attention was laser focused on the car several feet before him, pristine and cherry, out of place here in the automotive graveyard.

The muscle car was sleek, black, mean. A Plymouth Barracuda, its windows tinted so dark you could press your face right up against them and still not make out the interior. Jack didn’t need to do that, he already knew what was waiting inside for him. The scattergun was enough to give him peace of mind.

“C’mon, Sid.” he said. The sun was nearly down now, but goddamn if the wait wasn’t a killer. “I ain’t got all night.”

Sid certainly did, however. Jack wondered to himself how this was going to play out. Would Sid play nice? Probably not. Whatever their relationship might’ve been once upon a time had changed, now, forever and irrevocably ever since their escape. They each had their own paths to follow, their own demons to battle, their own outlook on their gifts and curse. More often than not they’d find themselves crossing paths again and again and again, forever connected, yet doomed to always clash. This night would be no different, he thought.

Jack had rolled into town a little before dawn, following a lead on his never ending hunt. He’d seen it before, too many times in fact; every house empty, every building ghosted, not a single person (alive or dead) to be found. He was too late, again. Some hero he was, Huh? Some great avenger...couldn’t even keep a hick town with a population of one hundred safe. Just another failure to keep him awake at night.

He reached down and made a grab for the shotgun, hands coiling tight around the pump, pushing the thoughts aside as the last of the suns warm glow dipped down beyond the horizon. Sid would be waking up any moment now...

Click.

The Barracuda’s locks disengaged. Hell, Sid was probably awake this whole time, watching him as he watched them. Jack could have played it safer...could have waltzed over and busted out a window, ripped open the door...but that’d surely earn him a fight, and knowing Sid they probably had the car fitted with all kinds of tricks and traps rigged up to deter such actions. He slid off the hood, ducking into the open window of his beater to reach for the console and flick on the headlights. Yellow beams flooded the dusk, illuminating the monster of car before him. Another click and the Baracuda’s driver side door creaked open.

“Jack, Jack, Jack the Ripper.” a husky voice echoed out from somewhere inside of the cabin. He winced at that much hated nickname. Long pale fingers, adorned with skull rings and cheap jewelry, gripped the edge of the car door one by one. The tips ended in pointed talons that clicked against the blackened glass. A heavy combat boot thumped out onto the gravel lot, heel grinding into the rocks as it’s owner put down their full weight and stepped out into the cool October night air.

“Sidney.” he replied, keeping a tight hold on the gun. He didn’t raise it, not yet, but every muscle in his body was coiled and ready. “Been a busy girl, haven’t you?”

A laugh, that laugh, that damn laugh. It was so hollow, so inhuman, so different from how it used to be, back when they had first met...the warmth was gone from it now, its chill a reminder of another friend he couldn’t save. Sid leaned over the top of the door, her long arms dangled lazily, her leather jacket was cracked and frayed with age and disrepair, held together with band patches and safety pins. A wide grin split across her black painted lips, revealing a mouth full of razor sharp teeth...teeth that Jack had found himself on the business end of more times than he’d care to remember. Her hair was short, shaggy and wild, a mop of ruby red that stood in stark contrast to her deathly pale pallor.

“Who? Me?” Sid pouted, suddenly slamming the door shut before taking a step in his direction. “Dunno what you’re talkin’ about. I’ve been on my absolute best behavi-”

Ch-chk. Jack racked the shotgun and leveled it off at the vampire’s head. Sid paused, that razor blade smirk of hers never faltering.

“Mhh...don’t threaten me with a good time, dead boy.” she teased, an edge to her tone that did not go unnoticed by Jack. “I still owe you one from the last time we met, remember? I sure as hell do.”

“You started that fight.” he reminded her, steady with his aim. “I ended it.”

“Matter of perspective.” Predatory eyes glanced down to the tip of the barrel before flicking their gaze back up to meet West’s. “Silver mixed in with the gunpowder?”

“Yup.” he lied. Silver was expensive, and he didn’t want to waste it on Sidney. At least, that’s what he told himself. “You fed recently?”

“No.” her smirk finally faded.

“Drove through a ghost town, Sidney.” he said. “Not a single soul around...but here you are. Spotted that car of yours from the road. Ain’t very inconspicuous, you know that?”

Sid clicked her tongue, a low growl rumbling in her throat that soon melted into a bored sigh. The night was just starting and she was anxious to end this conversation.

“You know me, I like to turn heads. You think I did it?” she scoffed. “Flattered....but that’s a bit ambitious, even for me, babe. Besides, when have you known me to be so...neat.”

She had a point. No bodies, no blood, no signs of struggle, and no way Sid would run roughshod over an entire town by her lonesome.

“Then what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Was hungry.” she admitted. “Like you said, it’s a fuckin’ ghost town. Couldn’t find a meal so I decided to bunk down and sleep, try the next town over come night...but maybe I won’t have to do that now that you’re here.” Her grin returned, pushing forward slowly, cautiously, testing him.

“I don’t have time for your bullshit, Sid.” Jack replied, gesturing the gun forward a bit, really trying to convey he’d unload on her if she kept it up.

“That ain’t silver, Jackie.” she purred, another step. “We both know that. No stakes, no garlic...you’re too much of a softie.”

“Do. Not.” he warned. She had him read like a book and he hated it how easily it came for her. It was a two way street, though. Sid never took it easy on him, but never had the heart to outright end it. The fighting, the blood, the claws and teeth and bullets and knives and scars...it was their dance. Twisted as it was, buried deep down, that affection for one another was still there somewhere. Once upon a time they were all one another had. In some fucked up way, that still held true.

“Jaaaaack.” she cooed, closer now, methodical and steady. A cat toying with a mouse just before it pounced. “C’mere, Lemme show you...just...how much...I missed....you.”

She lunged, quick as lightning, a flash of teeth and talons and hell on two legs.

Jack was faster. He squeezed the trigger and was rewarded with a thunderous BOOM. Buckshot slammed into Sid, ripping into her chest, flinging her back and off her feet, tumbling head over heels along the gravel. Her body rolled, sliding to a stop ungracefully just short of the front bumper of her car.

“Goddamn it, Sid!” Jack cursed, pumping the shotgun to chamber the next round. He aimed at the crumpled, unmoving heap. “You’re such a dick!”

All was still, all was silent. Seconds stretched on into what felt like eternity until...

GASP

Sid inhaled a long and sharp breath. She twitched, groaned, flopped over onto her back. Her chest was a mangled mess of red and ragged pulsating pulp. Her head turned, cheek to the rocky ground, to face the the monster hunter. Sid was dazed, but there was no mistaking that dull fire in her eyes...oh, she was pissed.

“Me? You fucked up my jacket, asshole.” she groaned, the wounds already knitting themselves back together. Perks of being undead. Jack took a tentative step backwards, ready for the fury to follow. Sid’s pale hand slammed down on the hood of the Baracuda as she struggled back up onto unsteady legs. Her strength was returning, slowly but surely. She’d make another go of it, Jack was certain. She was always stubborn like that.

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” he asked, finger on the trigger.

“Oh, fuckin’ A we’re doin’ this right fucking now.” she hissed, her face a mask of hunger, pain and rage. Sidney’s features morphed, letting slip that mask of humanity further, giving her dear old a friend a peek of the beast beneath. Bony features accentuated just how bat-like and monstrous she looked, transforming before his very eyes.

He’d seen it before.

Jack was unimpressed. You see one grotesque creature of the night, you’ve seen them all.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you come over here, I’ll kiss it and make it better.” he teased, gesturing with the shotgun. Sid screeched.

“I’m gonna rip your fucking head off and suck you dry.” Sid’s voice was a guttural snarl of a loathsome creature trying it’s hardest to mimic what a human should sound like.

Jack smirked.

“Oh, honey, don’t threaten me with a good time.” he winked, repeating her earlier taunt. Sid closed the distance, leaping at the punk. Jack wasn’t quick enough this time, felt the vampire’s claws tear into his shoulders, felt her hot breath on his neck just as he managed to bring the barrel of the boomstick up and press it against her stomach. His finger tightened around the trigger. Sid’s teeth ripped into his throat, filling her maw with warm crimson.

BOOM.

Their dance continued, as it always had.

As it always would.

Jack was the first awake. His entire body felt like it was on fire, everything hurt. Everything. His hand traveled up to touch his neck, coming away slick and red. There was so much blood, he was drenched in it and it had him feeling like Carrie on prom night. Despite the mess, Jack had nary a wound to show for it. God, how he ached, though. Being able to heal from almost anything was cool, until you factored in pain is still something you have to contend with. He needed a hot shower, he needed new clothes, he needed a fucking drink.

First though? He needed to check on Sid.

“You alive, dickhead?” he glanced over at the crumpled form beside him. Sid was no worse for wear, equally covered head to toe in gore and viscera, but not showing a single injury from their battle. She didn’t answer, but she made a soft mumbling noise that was just as good as a “yes” for Jack. He managed to pull himself to his feet, heavily leaning against the hood of his car. The headlights were still on, though much dimmer than before. Music still played from the radio.

“The weirdness flows between us. Anyone can tell to see us. Freak scene just can't believe us...” Jack closed his eyes, waiting for his pounding head to settle, focusing on the Dinosaur Jr. coming from his speakers. Finally opening them, he looked to the sky.

“Christ, we were out all night...” he mumbled, realizing the sun would be rising soon. With a sigh he pushed off, stumbling his way over to the vampire.

“Sid.” he mumbled, gently nudging her with the tip of his boot. “Sid, get up.”

“Mmh..” she groaned, still out of it.

“Sid, the sun’s comin’ up.”

No reply. Jack sighed. Of course.

“You’re not gonna make this easy are you?” Jack didn’t bother waiting for an answer, he knew he wouldn’t get one. He leaned down and grabbed her, every sore muscle of his still healing body screaming at him as he hoisted her up and over his shoulder.

“Jesus, you’re heavier than you look.” he mumbled.

“Mmh...fuck you...” Sid grumbled in response.

“Oh, now you can hear me?” He carried her to the muscle car, one arm keeping her perched on his shoulder, the other pulling open the door to the backseat. Jack ducked inside and laid Sid down on the cushions, surprisingly gentle with her. She had this thing kitted out, her roaming home, her tinted windows dark enough to keep her protected from the UV rays. He started to pull away when Jack felt Sid’s cold hand grip around his wrist to stop him.

“Stay.” her voice was small, weary...so different from the apex predator that was taunting him before. Jack felt like he was hearing the Sidney he used to know. The real Sid. The vampire peered at him, her eyes an eerie yellow glow in the darkness. Jack frowned.

“I gotta...I gotta go, Sid.” he whispered softly. “I gotta keep moving an-”

“West...Just...for a little while.” she pleaded. Just like that he, he felt like they were back at Maxell’s clinic. Just the two of them, two freaks locked away who found solace in each other. He groaned, shoulders slumping in defeat. She was right about him....he was a softie.

“Sometimes I don't thrill you. Sometimes I think I'll kill you. Just don't let me fuck up will you? 'cause when I need a friend it's still you.”

“For...a little while.” he agreed, taking one last glance back at the early dawn sky. He climbed into the backseat with Sid, closing the door behind them. Silently he laid down on the floor beside her as she curled up to sleep on the seat. He felt her pale hand reach down in the darkness, blindly searching for his. Jack grasped it. He linked their fingers together, and drifted off.

“What a mess.”