#all about tha boom!

[sunniepoo]

plsplspls more mean and icky stepbro!rafe x innocent/pure!reader 🙏 i lovee the way u write him 💕💕

maybe something like stebro!rafe teaching r how to kiss n get herself off n all that orr maybe sleepy sex <3

౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎

“ngh-uh” you pant, body restless as your fingers sloppily slip in and out of your dripping cunt. you’ve never felt like this, never felt so desperate; so unexplainably horny

you hadn’t expected the whine that left your mouth to come at the high volume that it did, but you were just so frustrated; your fingers weren’t hitting that one spot you craved them to. when all your friends said they did this , you expected it would be easy, not like this

all your thoughts were interrupted as a harsh knock on the door followed by the booming voice of rafe caused you to scramble, finding a spare top and shorts to chuck on before answering

“jesuuus christ open the door already” the older blonde shouts, pounding the door aggressively

you rush and open the door slightly to reveal the frame of a shirtless, messy haired rafe - you could see the slight pop of the veins in his arms and most importantly the bulge in his pants. “what’s taking you so long” you couldn’t miss the slight smirk and teasing tone coating his voice “hm?” he questions again

“uh-j-just” the natural panic was evident in your eyes as they widened and your eyebrow raised like a deer caught in headlights “ just tired”

you couldn’t help the groan that comes out as he enters your room. “raaafe” your whine to stop him falls on deaf ears as he sits on your bed. “please leave” you huff out, just desperate to get back to working your pussy away and get the release you’ve been dying for; he was ruining everything

“c’mon sit” the older cameron pats of his lap, calling you over as if you were his little puppy “raafe please go” you would’ve typically never gave this much attitude to the brooding male, him acknowledging your presence was a once in a lifetime thing

“don’t make me repeat myself” despite his menacing tone his gaze was enchanting, you’ve never understood how someone so beautiful could be so cruel at times.

with a couple of huffs and puffs you find yourself making your way over to the tall blond, making yourself home at one of his legs as the large surface of his palm guided you onto him.you had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as your clit rubbed against the front of his leg

it was confusing to say the least - why was he being so nice? but you were just a girl and it was so so so tempting to just lean back into the chest of the older cameron , letting his warmth fill you

you could feel his warm breath fall up on your shoulders, tingling the bottom of your ears “w-what are you doing here” you finally breathe out, finding it impossibly hard to not just rub against his leg

“just wanted to let you know that our rooms are right next to each other” he whispers, it was so oddly sensual and it couldn’t help but make your poor little pussy clench and pulse around nothing. it made your head tumble you shouldn’t feel this way about him; not your new big brother

“i already know tha-” you start but are interrupted by the boy beneath you, eyes looking at you intently while his fingers dance along your waist

“and the walls aren’t as thick as you think, so you know i hear everything”

oh!

you were speechless - quite literally, you opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a small squeak came out and before you know it tears were welling up and your eyes as you were starting to breakdown

“hey hey hey” he rushes to speak, rubbing a what was meant to be soothing arm across the sides of you but only causes you to hide in shame “don’t stress… i came here to tell you that i can y’know help” his fingers making their way down to your thighs, sliding up to cup your pussy “just some lessons”

“what” you didn’t expect your words to come out so harshly, as you look at him with wide curious eyes - could he really?

and that’s how you found yourself legs spread open, with rafe cameron fingers rubbing on your sensitive little clit, one finger slipping into your cunt reaching oh so deep. they had turned less into lesson but more into your older stepbrother straight up fingering you in your bed

“oooooh” you moan out, his finger knuckle deep in your needy little pussy hitting places you couldn’t even imagine “feels so ngh- good” he couldn’t help but stick another finger into your wet cunt watching your head go to complete bliss as it clenches desperately around the length of his fingers while he gently pistons them in and out

“could make you feel like this all the time” he breathes out, his own hard on grinding against the plump of your ass “little sluts like you love it”

the coarse whine that left your mouth signalled your upset as you looked at him wide eyed with your lips pouting. the breathy laugh that leaves him is followed by a soft kiss to the tops of your head “s’kay you’re my little slut”

“i-i ngh- don’t think” you could barely make out words as his fingers speed up to an impossibly fast pace, the coil in your stomach was starting to loosen and oh it felt so good! “w-we should do this agai-” the moan that left your mouth was almost pornographic, heaving loudly as his thumb goes to harshly rub on your clit

“hm and why is that” he teases increasing his pace and pressure, hitting all the right spots - this was so so wrong

“you’re family; you’re my stepbrother” you felt yourself finally get closer, like that ache was finally going to be cured- he must’ve had magic in his fingers with the way he was making you feel

and just as that coil in your stomach was about to unfold, he stops and even with your grinding against him and the endless whimpers he doesn’t continue

“why did you stop?” the question comes out a lot more pathetic than you expected, “well you said it, we shouldn’t be doing this, so i guess i’ll just g-” despite his words he makes no efforts to leave but that doesn’t stop your from whining and holding him tightly

“no no no…. i didn’t mean it” you admit, voice all weak and needy - all you want-no needed was him to fuck you with his fingers all messy and mean, there was no point in trying to hide it

“that’s my girl” the soft kiss is a stark contrast to the rough and nasty pistoning of his fingers, messing up your poor cunt but bringing you closer to your high

“yes yes yes” you thanked god that no one was home tonight as the loud moan left your mouth as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, your high washing over you - leaving you putty in his arms

maybe rafe wasn’t so mean after all

౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

stepdad!ghost x crybaby!girly!reader where he yells at her n it scares her cuz his voice is so deep n booming n she immediately starts crying. it all starts when he’s stressed because of a ton of paperwork he has to get done by that night and he hasn’t been able to because of different things that keep popping up. on top of that, he has to watch over you because your mom is out of town for a few weeks doing god know what.

so it’s safe to say he’s beyond stressed.

it all comes crashing down when you come skipping into his at-home office, a dvd in your hand for a movie he had promised you two would watch that day—before he was emailed a ton of paperwork.

you skip over to him, a small, “what’re you doin?” leaving your lips quietly as you peer over his shoulder.

he knows you just want attention right now, and god, does he want to give it to you.

but he can’t right now, and unfortunately for you, you don’t realize it.

he replies to your question with a gruff, “paperwork.” as he rubs his temple with his index and middle.

“oh.” your reply is short, and you look down at the dvd in hand sadly. “thought we were gonna watch a movie?”

simon tries to ignore the disappointment in your voice, because he knows he would immediately drop everything for you, but he just can’t.

“i know, love, but ‘ve got so much shit to do..what about tomorrow?” he asks, now watching u walk around to the front of his desk as you lean forward on it with your hands planted on the hardwood.

“tha’s what u said yesterday..” you pout, and simon can feel his irritability building in his blood. he doesn’t want to take any of his stress out on you, but if you push further, he’s worried he might.

“i know, princess. ‘m sorry, okay? i promise we will do it tomorrow.” he is now shuffling through his work.

you hate when he isn’t paying attention to you.

your eyes burn as you begin to feel tears sprout to them.

“si..” you squeak, trying to express that you feel lonely—what, with your mom being out all of the time. however, simon seemingly ignores you, too lost in his work. trying to get his attention, you call him what you know will achieve that. “daddy, can u take a break? please?” you beg, fidgeting with the dvd case. ghost’s heart squeezes in his chest at the nickname.

he mentally shakes his head. he has to focus.

“y/n, i already gave you my answer.” he speaks, his voice edging on pure annoyance.

“b-but you promised me! you always have somethin’ more important than me!” you’re fully crying now, and simon genuinely feels bad, but he just has so much to do.

he sighs, standing up to grab a pen from the coffee table. you follow behind him, crying.

“why’re you ignorin me?” you sob, and ghost rolls his eyes. he knows if he doesn’t look at you he won’t give in.

“y/n, stop.” he spits, walking back to his desk and hunching over to sign something.

you continue blubbering nonsense until— “enough! fuckin’ christ!”

his eyes burn into yours until he sees your utter hurt and he’s immediately back-tracking.

“angel..” he says softly right before you run off, and he begins to follow until you slam your bedroom door in his face. “fuck.” he sighs, exhausted.

he knows he scared you. he’s never yelled at you like that before.

he can hear your muffled, hiccuping cries, and he rests his forehead against your door—eyes shut tightly.

he tries your door handle but it’s locked. he knows you need time to decompress right now, so he reluctantly goes back to work for another hour before checking on you.

“princess?” he knocks on your door, and he can hear the movie you two were supposed to watch playing on the tv in your room. “let me in, baby.”

he can hear the sound of you getting off of your bed, then the clicking of the door unlocking. you run immediately back to your pink bed, whimpering like a puppy out of fright.

simon sighs for what seems like the 20th time that day, sitting down on your mattress. his large hand rubbing over the expanse of your back slowly.

“sweet’art, lookat me,” he speaks softly. “didn’t mean ta scare you..’m sorry. jus’ was stressed, baby.”

you turn your head, and he can see the reddening of your puffy eyes from crying so much.

“awh, angel,” he kisses the top of your head, brushing the hair away from your face. “can you forgive me?”

his voice is so soft and gentle you want to cry some more.

you nod, chewing on your lower lip. simon’s jaw ticks as he traces his thumb over the slope of your nose and down to the cupids bow of your soft lips. “sweetest girl ever, y’know that?” he asks, and his heart flutters when you giggle.

he leans forward and gently places a small kiss on your lips.

JANDKD IDK IF I LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER

[frudoo]

reader convincing slasher 141 to let her help when they kidnap and torture someone. she wants to be the victim that escaped or found a why to escape but in reality she's leading the other victim(s) into a trap to be caught. its all to see the look on their face and get praise from the 141 I love all your writing and hope you stay safe.

You are so sweet! I'm glad you're enjoying the series!! <3

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Suggestive content. Mentions of bad people. MDNI.

“No. Absolutely not,” John crosses his arms, stern voice booming throughout the dining room.

     “Why not?” You huff, setting down your fork to focus your full attention on the guys.

     “Jus’ cuz y’live with it doesn’t mean we want y’involved,” Simon grunts, unimpressed.

     “Ah dunno, hen,” Johnny frowns, crystal blue eyes boring into yours. “Wha’ if one of us mistakes ye fer one o’them?”

     “Do you really think that would happen?” You challenge, cocking an eyebrow.

     None of them seem sold on the idea, but you’re not giving up. There’s a need for vengeance hidden deep inside of you that’s just begging to burst out, and although you can’t stomach anything the boys actually do, just knowing that you’ll be helping them scrape the scum off the face of the earth is enough. There’s only one of your husbands that hasn’t voiced his opinion—the very one who can’t resist your charms.

     “Kyle,” you puff your lips out into a pout, batting your eyelashes at him. “Please, baby, just let me help you all out?”

     His eyes widen and he throws his hands up in surrender, shaking his head vigorously.

     “Uh-uh, don’t put tha’ on me, dove.”

     You groan dramatically, standing from your place at the table. 

     “I’m thinking about practicing abstinence.”

     Long story short, they took a chance, and now you’re covered in blood and dirt, wearing nothing but an old nightgown and leading a group of horrified victims into the barn with the promise of hidden escape routes just inside. It surprises you how gullible each of them are, and you almost feel bad for leading them straight to their death. You have to remind yourself that these are rapists, abusers, and cons getting what they deserve. You have to remind yourself that your lovers would never do this to someone undeserving of only the worst fates.

     “No, it’s okay! I-I’m just- hey, you’re fine,” you coo to the sobbing woman who refuses to let go of your arm.

     Eventually you just have to shove her down and slam the barn doors shut, locking her along with every other piece of walking garbage inside. You pass John on his way towards the very building you’re leaving, yelping when he pulls you right into his burly arms.

     “Clever girl. Shoulda never doubted you,” he murmurs, lifting his mask to press a hot, lingering kiss to your lips.

     “Get it over with. I need to wash the fucking bitch’s germs off of my skin.”

     John laughs, giving your ass a tight squeeze before replacing his mask over his face. 

     “Hope you were jokin’ about that whole ‘abstinence’ thing,” he hums, pointing his pinky finger up to a window on the second floor of the barnhouse, where your remaining three lovers have been watching the whole thing play out, hands down their trousers. 

     “They look hungry.”

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 3)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3147

(Part 1) (Part 2)

_________________________________________

Rhysand’s face hurts.

His hands do, too, but the scrapes and splits in the skin of his knuckles have nothing on the cut in his lip, which currently stings from the rush of alcohol that passes over his lips.

It’s cold, crisp, and free, so it’s the best beer he’s had all night.

Hell, his cheek is bruised too. It’s not a Picasso of mottled yellows, greens, and purples yet—curtesy of the time he spent poking and prodding the knotted bump in one of the locker room mirrors, post shower.

The only thing that isn’t bruised is his ego because he more than won that fight against the Penguin’s center, Kallias Winterborough. He fucking wiped the ice with him and then proceeded to use the rest of his team to clean house.

Somewhere in the Hockey House—aptly named for the number of players that reside in the five-bedroom, two-story craftsman—you and his cousin meander around, violet Solo Cups in hand because the red ones are so overrated. Plus, one of their biggest rivals—the Foxes—wear crimson, and no one at Velaris University would ever be caught repping that team at one of his parties.

It's a move he’s regretting a little too much right now, unable to revel in the Bat’s big win with his lip split in two. Fucker got him good, he can admit, but never aloud. Cassian would never let him live it down and Azriel would shoot him a scathing glare at the mere mention of another school’s team under their roof.

Az takes his superstitions seriously.

“Rhys, dude.” Cassian stumbles in through the square arch connecting the spacious living room to the cozy kitchen. It’s the only thing Rhysand doesn’t like about the Hockey House: no open floorplan. That means, when he plays host as he so often does because he can’t afford a hangover from hell following most mornings, he can’t see what’s going on in the kitchen if he’s in the living room or vice versa.

He can’t see people sneaking up the stairs, and even though he keeps his room locked at all times following the Cassian Incident™ that included two leggy blondes and the Frozen Four first place trophy—announcing the next afternoon that blondes do, in fact, have more fun—he still doesn’t trust a horde of university students on a high from their win not to do anything stupid.

Speaking of stupid…Cassian slides to a halt beside him. He’s so eager to share whatever the hell with Rhys that he overshoots, slamming his hip into the counter. His friend howls, and much unto Rhys’ surprise, others join in, like it’s some kind of victory cry and not one that says ‘I just bashed my hip in, somebody help me, please.’

Rhysand is in no mood to help.

“What’s up, Cass?” Rhys sighs, frowning when he tips his bottle back to his mouth only to find it empty. He hadn’t realized how much he drank; thought he was nursing it with the way his lip burns.

Cassian’s face contorts from pain back to amused like a flick of a switch and the pain was long forgotten. His nose is permanently crooked from the number of times he’s broken it during fights both on and off the ice, and he’d be missing one of his pearly whites if he hadn’t just gotten it fixed earlier this week. Thankfully, his moustache has been shaved off for tonight, showing off his plump, pink lips. His brunet hair is the longest on the team, just brushing the tops of his massive shoulders, and thankfully. On one side, it’s tucked tightly behind his ear, showing off the gold ring he punched through it on a dare at their first party freshman year.

Cassian’s hazel eyes have a spark in them that 1: Rhys has seen too many times, and 2: never means anything good.

Rhysand narrows his own, breaking that eager contact to scour the kitchen for another beer because goddammit, he’s going to need it with the way his friend is all but shaking with excitement.

“Have you found your nurse yet?” Cassian asks, trailing him around the marble slab counter.

“My what?” Rhysand side-steps a couple making out so hard that they go crashing into the first thing that isn’t each other: the wall. The petite girl with bright blue hair whimpers loudly, and the noise is swallowed up by the guy that’s sticking his tongue straight down her windpipe.

It looks grosser than it seems, Rhys defends when a pang of want slaps him right in the chest.

“Your nurse, dude,” Cassian whines. He slips on a rogue wet patch on the obsidian floor tiles and now Rhysand has another thing to dislike in this house. All he needs is someone cracking their skull open on his kitchen floor or the couple to fall and have his teeth through her lips from the impact. “You know, cause you’re all injured.” He waves flippantly towards Rhysand’s wounds.

“I don’t need a nurse,” Rhys answers, confused. He pulls open the fridge and snags two beers off of the shelf Cassian and two of his other roommates have dedicated it to. He hands one to his friend, who pops the top off with his teeth, and Rhys raises an unimpressed brow. “I didn’t get that hurt.” Plus, he’s already been to see the team trainer for his shiners.

He busies himself with the beer opener that’s stuck to the side of the fridge, then grabs the roll of paper towels from their holder to wipe up the mess Cassian’s leaving footprints with. Well, he unrolls a few and tosses them onto the spill, anyway.

“No, I mean like a lady nurse.” Cassian waggles his brows. “Someone who can kiss you better, maybe even give you a hand—”

And, well, that might just help his mood.

“Hey.” Azriel breezes into the kitchen like he’s still on his skates. He has his own cup in hand, filled with water. Rhys know this because he’s never seen Azriel drink anything other than water and the occasional coffee. He takes his training more seriously than half of the team, which bodes well for Rhys because he always has a gym buddy, but sometimes, he wishes his friend would let loose, even if it meant seeing a girl. Or sleeping with one. “Heads up.”

The warning has Rhys standing straighter, ready to abandon his beer on the counter to play his role as captain and the one in charge of the party. His roommates naturally defer to him in house affairs because they’re used to it, but really, Rhys doesn’t have much more room in his packed schedule for warding off drunk students and stopping fights.

The last thing he needs tonight is to find himself in the middle of a fight.

“Rhys!” A perky blonde squeals, and his shoulders drop for a second only to tense right back up when his cousin throws herself into his arms.

He catches her with an oof, spitting out her wild locks that somehow always end up everywhere. He loves his cousin dearly, like a sister, but why is she here right now?

He doesn’t see you following your roommate into the kitchen, jaw slack like it’s been since you first saw the Hockey House lit up in all of its glory. The place is absolutely massive, it looks like it could rival one of the houses on Greek row.

The kitchen is moody yet warm. The dark tiles match the onyx-stained flat arch you just walked through. The lighter gray marble countertop brightens the room, and the deep blue cabinets paired with the soft lighting paints the room in perfect synchrony.

It’s absolutely stunning.

Neither of you see the other at first. Rhys because he’s still trying to blink Mor’s hair from his eyes and you because you’re entranced by the interior design of the home. There’s no way five boys could possibly live here, let alone five hockey players. It’s a bit of a mess with the party raging around you, yes, but you haven’t seen one hole in the drywall, not one forgotten dish nor a pair of boxers left of the bathroom floor—you checked.

Because you were using the restroom of course, you weren’t looking for that specific reason.

“Hey, Mor,” Rhys greets when she finally detaches herself from him. She doesn’t go far, only stepping back enough to introduce you to him. “What are you doing here?”

Violet eyes clash with yours, drawing your heart to a standstill. He looks just as good as he did when you were sprawled out on his chest: dark hair clean and mussed through, red lips parted as if the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat.

The only thing different about him now is that cut in his lip and the redness to his cheek from his fight on the ice that you bore witness to.

The memory replays in your mind again, awakening tingles in your body that shouldn’t be. And just how you’re praying for them not to, they converge right between your thighs, settling in nice and hot and begging for attention as the sight of him with burning violet eyes as he decks his opposition across the jaw replays.

It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and he himself shouldn’t be as hot as he is, either.

You hold yourself still, focusing eighty percent on your attention on trying to calm your eager bits down and the other twenty percent on making sure you don’t look constipated while doing so.

Rhys blinks at you and you return his blank stare, watching, waiting to see if he recognizes you, too.

Oh, he does.

“We came to see your game tonight,” she says, as if it isn’t obvious from your attire. The attire that Rhys is currently dragging his eyes down, drinking in every inch—all four of them—of the jersey your roommate forced you into tonight. You watch his eyes flare as he reads the number across your chest. His number, you’re just now realizing.

Heat floods your cheeks but you’re unable to bolt like you so desperately want to. Your heart is beating three times as fast in your chest as he slowly, slowly, rakes his gaze up from your legs that are glued to the floor, all the way to your eyes, that are glued to his face.

“This is (Y/N),” Mor announces, gesturing to you with a flourish. When you make no move forward to greet them, her red nails curl around the hem of your jersey and yank.

You stumble forward, and the trance is broken. Unfortunately, so is your face, because you slip in something on the tiles and are plummeting face-first into the ground. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, lips parted to scream or groan, whichever your mind catches up to first—

The impact never comes. Strong hands grip your arms, stopping you from eating tile. You’re too stunned to speak, even when you’re planted back on your feet and staring into the chest you were lying on only this afternoon.

Rhysand Cunningham.

Jesus, you’re really going to have to stop saying his full name like that. It’s creepy.

“Easy now,” Rhys says, making sure you’re steady. You somehow find the courage to look him in the eyes, hastily tamping down the mortification that threatens to consume you.

As soon as your eyes lock, it’s like magic.

There’s no other way to describe whatever is happening between the two of you right now. His light touch is searing, and so are his eyes as he scans your face, making sure you’re not hurt.

Rhys’ abandoned beer sits precariously close to the edge of the counter, and Cassian accidentally knocks it off with his elbow when he dodges a playful swat Mor tosses his way. It goes crashing to the floor, startling you and Rhys from your trance.

You jump, gaze following the noise. Rhys’ hands slip from your body and you shiver at the cold that replaces him, even though it’s stifling in this house with the number of bodies packed into it. You manage one large step back that he doesn’t seem to notice because he’s already snatching the paper towels from where he put them last and barking at passerby to “be fucking careful.”

“I, uh,” you stutter, and holyfuckingshit, he’s leaning over to clean up the mess. You get a full view of that toned ass; despite the jeans he’s wearing. It’s perfect, round like an apple, juicy like one too, you bet. The sudden urge to lean over and sink your teeth into it hits you like a semi— “I need to use the bathroom.”

You scurry away from your roommate and her cousin like it’s your ass that’s just been bitten into.

Rhys grumbles the entire time he cleans up the spilt beer. Cassian tried to help, his chocolate eyes wide and sad, spouting off apologies like he did something much worse than break a fucking bottle, but hissed when he cut his thumb on a sharp edge. Rhys had pushed him away from the scene immediately after that.

He wonders if Cassian is going to bound off into the living room and find himself a nurse of his own, now.

“Hey, where did your friend go?” Rhys asks Mor who’s chewing on a cherry stem. He grimaces, not even knowing where those came from.

“Roommate,” Mor answers pointedly, serving him a harsh look that only confuses the hockey player.

“Okay…where did your roommate go?” He clarifies, eyes sweeping the room for you. Disappointment prickles at his skin just as much as the look his cousin is shooting him. He’d gotten his look at you alright, but he’s suddenly feeling like the single up-down he gave you was not nearly enough.

“To the bathroom,” she answers, rounding the counter, eyeing all of the opened bottles of liquor on top. She must not see anything she likes, because he doesn’t reach for anything. “Why?”

Why? Because you brought her here and I want to be nice? Rhys thinks. I want to get to know her, maybe somewhere private—

“I didn’t really get to introduce myself.” Is what he goes with.

Mor snorts, rolling her eyes because she is not falling for that one. “She’s off limits.”

“Then why did you bring her here?” Rhys blurts, unable to stifle the words before they slip out. Damn beer.

“Because we wanted to see your game,” Mor replies, watching her cousin closely.

If you wanted to see my game, you shouldn’t have warned me against your roommate, he thinks, and then cringes.

“Well, thanks for coming, cuz,” he offers, because there’s no good rhyme or reason to start arguing with her. Especially when both of their parents are just phone calls away.

He’d rather be getting the third degree from Mor than his mother, anyway.

Rhys swiftly changes the subject. “Hope you enjoyed me kicking some ass.”

Mor’s tight face melts into amusement. She laughs, tossing her head back on her shoulders. “Yeah, I really did enjoy that, actually.”

It’s at that exact moment that Rhys catches sight of you again. You’re caught halfway in the archway of the kitchen, presumably on your way back from the bathroom. Your lips are pulled into a smile as you giggle, and he wishes he could hear it over the gods-awful music. Your eyes are bright and he watches you brush a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks pinkening with a blush that makes him wonder just who’s putting that look on your face.

Rhys takes one step to the left and his entire body begins boiling with heat when he catches sight of one of his players speaking to you.

If she’s off limits to me, then my players are off limits to her.

And that’s exactly what they are, too, players. Mor’s right, he can’t end up letting one of his teammates fuck around with you, not when you’re so close to his cousin. She’d be devastated if you got hurt, and fuck it, he would too. He’d kill one of his guys if they broke your heart.

Rhys doesn’t talk sense into himself as he stalks your way, doesn’t think about the repercussions or his actions when he slides up to your side, all rigid muscles and sharp looks.

“What do we have here?” he asks, drawing you away from the friendly conversation you were having with the handsome hockey player about the types of tapes and casts that can be used when treating different injuries.

It’s James Attor, from your Athletic Training Techniques class. You’d recognized him, but didn’t know he played for the Velaris hockey team. He’s a sophomore like you, and more interested in the injuries part of his sport than the actual scoring.

“Oh, hey, Cap,” James greets, shrinking under the scrutinizing gaze of his team leader. He knows that look, it’s the one Rhys gets before he’s about to lose his mind on the ice. “I was just talking to (Y/N) about—”

“About nothing,” Rhys finishes for him, and you frown. What the hell is his problem?

“James, wait,” you call, but it’s too late, he’s already slipped into the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the living room, and you don’t have supervision to see through them.

Whirling around on your heel, you glare up at Rhys. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Rhys asks, striding back towards the kitchen. You decide that playing stupid doesn’t look good on him. And neither does that split lip.

You can’t believe you wanted to get closer. For a better look at his wounds, of course.

“That!” You exclaim, throwing your arm out and pointing where you were just standing. It serves no purpose because Rhys isn’t facing you, which only stokes your anger further. “I was talking to him!”

“Yeah,” he rounds on his feet so fast you don’t even see it coming and for the second time today, you run smack dab into the middle of his chest.

This time, you don’t tumble into a pile of limbs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“And I’d prefer it if you don’t,” Rhys finishes, chest tight. He feels on edge at the way your body pressed up against his, like lightning in his veins. He grits his teeth, willing the feeling to go away.

“Yeah,” you scoff, tossing him your best glare. You cross your arms over your chest for effect, but all it does is make that skimpy shirt you’re wearing ride up more, and both Rhys’ eyes and throat catch at the sight of your creamy skin. Your word sounds like a threat when you say, “Unlikely.”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Alastor + apprentice!child!reader

A/n: this is some practice to get a footing in his character. (Also slight practice on husk as well.)

Reader is kinda scary but means well overall

Not proofread

Y/n ever elusive. Alastor would randomly mention your name in conversations. References your rampages and your sweetness in the same breath. But when anyone would try to quiz him on you further he would act like he didn't know what they were talking about. He might try to claim it's for privacy but it's pretty obvious he just likes messing with hotel members.

Charlie was especially sad that she might never get to meet you. If Alastor was to be believed you seemed really sweet! (And easy to rehabilitate *cough* *cough*) Also cool! You seemed to be an absolute powerhouse. After Al mentioned you Charlie got somewhat mopey. Until he mentioned you visiting the hotel, which piqued everyone's interest.

When you finally showed up, people's interest was at an all-time high. But now it was because the fabled y/n was a child. "It's a pleasure to be meeting everyone!" You were looking at Alastor but were speaking to the whole room. "I've heard so much about all of you!"

"They've also heard much about you too, dearie." Alastor bent at the waist down to your level. "You've become quite the hot topic here!"

As if to prove his point Charlie picked you up and spun you around almost hitting Alastor in the face. He glared at her but remained calm. "Welcome, welcome! Do you want to choose a room to stay in?"

"Sorry, but I'm not planning to stay."

"I know but just for the time being." Charlie clarified. To that, you nodded. Husk snapped his head toward The Radio Demon once both you and Charlie had left.

"Did you really stoop low enough to make a deal with a child?" He was just barely containing his anger. While he didn't particularly care for those he didn't know at least somewhat personally, taking a child's soul was a place he drew a thick line.

"Why of course not!" He said sounding offended but clearly, it was to mock Husk. "They are under my guidance purely by choice!" Vaggie and Husk both said some version of 'you're a liar' in unison. Alastor simply tsked as he walked away.

Niffty seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Was thas thay y/n?"

After the crew (excluding Husk) let out a yelp, Vaggie spoke, "Yep."

Niffty let out a villain-esque laugh, though that was just her usual laugh, "I've been meaning to talk to them since they scared off a group of bad boys~" She flashed her sharp teeth and held a knife. Angel grabbed the knife and her before she could get very far.

Back with you and Charlie Alastor materialized next to you and you waved at him.

"Hello, sir!" You saluted him as a joke.

"Hello to you too! Have you found a room?" You nodded and entered said room. Charlie looked at him, her face painted with a confused yet kind look.

"They're the one who hurt so many people? Are you kidding? They are so nice."

"You've never seen them in danger." Suddenly as if on queue an explosion was heard. You shot up from your surprisingly comfortable bed and ran downstairs. Pushing both Charlie and Alastor out of the way while also throwing a quick ‘sorry’ their way.

Once you got downstairs the bad boys that Niffty mentioned earlier were spouting something about you. Once they looked at you they pulled weapons out. You grew and your arms turned pitch black with a slight claw shape. With your new size, you were just big enough to grab them to the point of almost cracking bones. Almost.

"Leave." You said with a deep booming voice that came with the size. You threw them and they scrambled. Once they were gone you shrunk back down to your normal size. Niffty pouted and stamped her foot.

Once you turned everyone had varying looks of shock on their face except Niffty and of course, Alastor who was instead proud. "Congrats dear! Would you like some jambalaya?" You nodded.

As you were walking with him Husk grabbed your shoulder, "Um good job kid... If he ever offers you a deal, don't take it." He felt obliged to warn you. If Alastor's moral code was against recruiting kids, he probably would have pounced on the opportunity to take your soul once you were an adult.

You smiled, "I know I know. But what could I even gain out of any deal with him?" You laughed and walked back to Alastor. Huh. Well, you certainly were being tutored by Alastor.

A/n: Y/n got kinda of edgy at the end-

[ippipo]

Fuck it into ya

sukuna ryomen x reader - mafia au? idk but here's sum

Sukuna is the type to buy you expensive presents literally every week. He was a spend-thrift and it was batshit crazy how careless he was with money when it came to you. So you decided to take the matter into your own hands.

You told Sukuna that you'll tear every single clothing he buys you if he doesn't listen to you, to which he casually shrugged and said, "I could just buy you more." After many blackmailing attempts (who are you kidding? this man gets death threats and is attacked at least once every month), you decided to use your ace card.

You didn't talk to him for an entire day. It was pretty childish considering the fact that he was buying stuff only for you, but you recently heard that one of the three powerful mafia groups had gone bankrupt rendering them useless. It scared you because Sukuna's money saving ability was shit despite being the richest mafia ever.

After a few painful hours of knocking on your door, Sukuna was angry and punched a hole into the hard wood. Of course it didn't work, his knuckles started to hurt. That didn't matter to him though, he just wanted to know why you were ignoring him.

"Y/N.." he called out weakly, his voice bleeding with sadness. He had a bad day and he just wanted to be around you. Hearing his pitiful voice, your heart clenched. C'mon, it's not everyday you have one of the strongest people weak on their knees, begging. Seems like you were just as sadistic as the greatest mafia don himself.

You slowly unlocked the door and peered into his eyes, your eyes bearing rigidity that made his cock hard. You grabbed his hand and brought him to your shared bed, pushing him onto it and falling on him, earning a grunt.

You softly dragged your fingers on his palm, sometimes writing his name, sometimes writing your name. He pushed you off to the side gently and got up to undress himself down to just his boxers. He got on to the bed and grabbed you aggressively by your shoulder, pulling you back on top of him, your rightful position.

You bit his shoulder playfully as a payback for manhandling you to which he replied with a kiss on your forehead. "Say, why do you want me to stop buying you things so bad?" He questioned, his voice booming in the quietness of your room.

"Do you want me to tell you the truth?" You asked. "You are to answer my question, not question me back." He flicked your forehead, earning an 'ouch'. "You won't leave me after this?" You asked, ignoring his statement earlier. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

"Darling, you fucking dumb bitch, I saw you mixing egg yolks with strawberry jam to make a volcano and I'm still with you." He stated. You muttered 'reasonable' before clearing your throat, preparing yourself for something you thought would embarrass you.

"Okay. So, um-" "Get to the point." He said impatiently. "Fine. The clothes you're getting me are the wrong size, they're smaller and I think I grew bigger than last time. I feel weird about myself because they used to fit me but now they're a little tight and uncomfortable and I feel insecure." You said without a break.

"W-" "And I heard some maids saying that three of your enemy gangs went bankrupt and I'm scared you'll waste all your money on things that I won't even use." You added. "First off, how dare you interrupt me." He said and paused.

"Secondly, what do you mean you feel insecure? If anything, I'm the one who was supposed to buy you clothes that fit you, not the ones smaller, it's my fault. And darling, you're a fucking goddess, I don't care if you got bigger, you look just fine to me." He pulled both your cheeks with his fingers and slapped them softly.

"Stop doing tha-" "I didn't marry you for something as stupid as looks, I married you because you're my weird cumslut who can't go a day without dick, plus, you're my wife, no way am I letting something so absurd bother you." He said with a smirk. You slapped his bare chest because of his choice of words, blushing profusely.

"Thirdly, who do you think made them go bankrupt?" You remained silent at that, assured and relieved. "So...you still like me?" You asked. He smacked your cheek and choked you, gently may I add. "Stop asking me stupid questions." He grumbled.

You giggled when his thumb ghosts over your neck, tickling you while his hand was around it. You take his hand that was around your neck and press kisses on his knuckles. He brought his hand to his lips and kissed the spots you kissed, a happy glint in his eye, as if you both actually kissed.

Sukuna doesn't look like it, but he is just happy if you were near him. Your presence is more than enough, a blessing, in fact. To him, you're not a prize, you're a gift, you're a prank gone right, you're his world. Aggressively, he loved you, he cherished you and he will keep on doing it till his last breath.

"I'm still offended you slapped me." You said, turning away when he tried to kiss you. He grabbed your chin and forcefully made you look towards him, to which you didn't object. He gently kissed your lips, capturing your heart and soul within a span of seconds.

A wordless assurance. He needed that to make sure he didn't actually hurt you, because he meant to slap softly, playfully, with pure love, not the kind of slap he was more acquainted with, thanks to his parents (who were dead by the way).

"It's just that..." You began, grabbing his attention though it was already on you. "I don't like the way I look?" It was more of a question than a confession, you were unsure of yourself. There were times you liked the way you looked, there were times you absolutely despised yourself.

It was complicated, your relationship with your body. When you thought you looked good, you didn't. When you thought you didn't look good, you didn't.

It was tough, especially when you're dating someone conventionally attractive. It makes you feel unworthy. That maybe someday he would find someone else. Maybe someone who looks prettier, has both, beauty and brawns.

Even though he treats you like a princess, showering you with his passionate fancy love, you still felt that he could do better. Choose someone better. That thought makes you feel like someone had cut your head and poured vomit inside you, bleaching your organs with vomit, an unshakeable feeling.

You didn't need to say a word though. Sukuna knew what you were thinking. Every thought, every whisper and every breath of yours was familiar to him. It was surprising how well he knew you. Perfect hands wrapped around a perfect waist, your waist. He didn't care how big it was.

He kissed you, aggressively. That's what you called your relationship, aggressive love, which was quite contrary to how he treated you because there was always a hidden gentleness under his aggressiveness. He knew where to draw the line though.

"I don't know why you don't want to believe me, so I might just have to fuck it into ya." It was funny how he said it in a very serious tone, he was being serious. "Ryo, I was at a stupid party before coming home and my legs are dead from standing so much." You whined.

"Who says you have to work now? Let me handle your body." He whispered, licking a stripe on the back of your ear. A shiver of pleasure ran down your body, right to your cunt. Oh boy did you know what a night it was going to be.

[l-in-the-light]

One Piece Chapter 1126 commentary

Fresh spoilers under cut!

Yes, Luffy, you're right. Anyone would be curious after 100 years. I just can't with Luffy sometimes. I still wonder if this serves as foreshadowing that Luffy will become immortal smh.

Such cheerful idiots. They remind me so much of Zoro and Sanji, and they also served as parallel to them all the way back in Little Garden too.

Just look at them. They love each other so much, my god. I guess in One Piece, fighting each other constantly means you just love them so much you can't refuse any opportunity to interact, geez.

Also it's so sweet that Dory and Broggy still keep it a secret that their weapons broke down because they helped Strawhats leave the island. They will take that secret to their graves, won't they.

This is so wholesome. Kuma's consciousness might be barely there, he can't even speak, but Bonney knows it's still her dad and wants to just spend time with him together <3

I admit this hit me right in the feels. Bartolomeo knows that if he asked for help, Luffy would run miles to him, but he just won't because he doesn't want to be a burden.

I don't think I ever saw Shanks doing that expression before... I wonder if Bartolomeo's words just hit too close to home.

Also hi Shanks, finally I get to see you more often than once every 200 chapters, about the effing time. Don't spoil me too much or I might expect seeing you more often from now on, and I'm not ready for the disappointment if that's not the case!

"Softer than I expected", oh, Bartolomeo, you have NO IDEA. He's so right though.

Oh. My. God. When was the last time I saw you smile like that, Shanks?? Must be a thousand years ago! All the way back when Ace visited you and thanked you for saving Luffy's life. And before that? Must be in East Blue with Luffy. It was way too long. Please smile more often, you doofus! Bartolomeo, honestly thank you for exisiting. You made this man smile like this again <3 also you're a chad Barto, please, you're great.

Also Shanks, you have no idea how many people are doting on Luffy! Lots of very nice people. I wish you could have met Law as well...

And boom, another young pirate crew got eradicated. Seeing Shanks reactions in this chapter though makes me more convinced that Kid will be fine and alive too. Narrator in One Piece is so unreliable lol.

Speaking of narrator in One Piece... who is it actually? Who is commenting the events for us? Is it you, Morgans?? Admit it, you stupid bird!!

I don't believe you even for a second Kuzan. Not after that trick you pulled off with Saul. You clearly did everything you could to SAVE Garp's life there. He was in such a bad shape too, after all. Garp's rep is insane btw. And he looks a lot like Ace locked away forever ago in Impel Down...

Big bro and Big Sis? Caribou, do you mean Devon and Augur by that? LOL. Or does Caribou actually have a big sis??

Hello, new adventure of Strawhats in a Lego land! God, how much I envy them! I also want to explore a lego land!

Okay, so what happened here. Did they shrink and now they're dolls in a lego house? Because this is not Elbaf. It's not like I thought it will be Elbaf anyway, I read a good theory that Elbaf won't happen yet, we're entering floating storyline arc. It might be wrong, because it predicted Strawhats somehow landing in G-14 base (which is supposed to be somewhat near to Egghead, that's where the kids from Punk Hazard are kept, as well as many Sword members are part of it).

But let's explore the possible explanations that were given to us in this chapter alone:

Robin's idea is a funny one. But Robin's ideas and visions are always wrong, that's like the repeated gag in One Piece lol. So I'm not placing a bet on that (also what sort of fish has a lego mansion inside it's stomach).

"There's a chance it'll make you hallucinate". Interesting. And it's called Green Fairy huh. We see Sanji, Zoro, Nami and Usopp getting seriously drunk with it. Coincidentally, those are the Strawhats that are currently missing in action (+Luffy and possibly Chopper as well?). Actually, the whole Sunny is missing. What could make a whole ship just disappear? I mean, it was even tied up to the Giants ship, wasn't it?

Yep, seems it was. Probably using Sunny's anchor. Which means, if a fish actually swallowed them up, it would be dangling on that anchor. But anyway I didn't buy Robin's comment anyway, no one should lol.

So someone had to undo that anchor for the ship to leave... and here's my most logical conclusion to that: it was Luffy. Luffy doesn't like to drink. For some reason he abducted them somewhere? I mean it's not exactly something impossible for Luffy to do. The crew also somehow pins it down on Luffy, just look at this:

Or, it was someone else capable of stealing a whole ship. There's one problem with this idea though. We were just watching reactions from folks all around the world about Vegapunk's broadcast. We basically know where everyone is and what they're doing (which excludes possibility that it was for example a prank from Shanks), besides literally a few exceptions, like most of Luffy's grand fleet. I can't help but notice Law is still missing in action too.

Right before the environment is revealed to us, Nami comments this must be all alcohol's fault. And that's indeed my guess on what's happening: Nami is experiencing a hallucination from drinking too much of Green Fairy. Which means she isn't a reliable narrator right now and what we're seeing isn't 100% accurate. I still envy her though. I also want to be in a Legoland <3

There's also the chapter's title: 落とし前 (otoshimae) which means: payback, return of favour, taking responsibility, but the most known association is with the yakuza's custom of cutting off a finger as apology for making a blunder. We saw one of such examples happen in this chapter: Bartolomeo had to suck it up because he messed with Shanks and Shanks couldn't let it slide.

I admit I thought it's gonna be a red herring plotline, but Oda actually delivered on that promise! I'm glad I was wrong, ha! This was delicious. Bartolomeo drinking a fake poison to show his loyalty to Strawhats was absolutely fantastic. And Shanks testing him in such a way is so disgusting but also awesome. He cares so much to make sure people around Luffy are actually good people... Shanks and Bartolomeo's encounter is basically two biggest fanboys of Luffy meeting up and it's gotta make this my most favourite chapter for a while now <3

Next, we could probably see "taking responsibility" also in what happened at the very end of the chapter. Strawhats got literally drunk, yeah, so they're literally taking responsibility now for it. But it could also suggest someone kidnapped them to either 1. give them payback 2. repay a favour (despite the ominous line at the end of the chapter, I think it might be the latter actually. But we will see). Wouldn't be the first time Oda uses subtle hints like that to let us know what's actually going on.

There's probably a few more tie-ins to the title in this chapter. Dory and Broggy still gonna continue their duel (it's also taking responsibility, right? Once said words can't be taken back), Bonney and Kuma (she took him with her so she's now taking care of him instead of feasting with others), Blackbeard and Kuzan (Kuzan kinda took responsibility over what happened and made up for the losses when he took Garp hostage). I'm not sure how accurate it is though, because I though otoshimae is related to "making up for some wrongdoing or a mistake", not just taking responsibility for your own actions (or collectively for the whole group). But it might be both, I guess?

But then we can't ignore a tiny callback to that line Zoro says in Water 7 here: "we need to take responsibility for accepting Robin into the crew and that's why now we have to decide: is she a crewmate or an enemy?" The word he uses back then is also "otoshimae".

I'm so into this story's development right now, I literally can't wait for the next chapter! I liked the lore in Egghead, but futuristic islands are just not my type of thing in general. Whatever is happening now, I'm so into it already haha.

[brainrot-stitch]

AHAAA I FINISHED IT WOAHHH i usually don't finish art things omg...

Anyways current sabre design!!! (It will probably change bc I can NEVER make up my mind on any design ever sob)

He's such a goof :3 (IM NEVER DRAWING THAT RAINBOW ELYTRA AGAIN IM CRYING)

Anyways some headcanons below cuz I feel like yapping :3

-rainbow totally would have gotten him and sabre friendship necklaces (yk the matching kind with magnets that come together n all) and after knowing lucas for a bit he woulda made friendship bracelets !!

-like that one person I reblogged said, he's such a mad scientist he's so silly omgg

-i love the reincarnation au SO MUCH its literally fire but in normal headcanons I think he used to be part of the creed and an assasin and ermm

Basically I headcanon his whole assassins creed series was basically his backstory before starting to do research on these 'steve' entities

-when nervous/anxious his footsteps will be completely silent out of habit from the whole assassin thing, and he'd obviously do it when purposefully trying to sneak (he has probably scared rainbow or Lucas multiple times by doing this..)

-I'm not sure weather to headcanon that his wings were damaged by a steve really early on in the steve saga (like before rainbow could speak or maybe when dark was still pretending to be blue) or if it was smth that happened when he was still an assassin but it's one of those!!!

-hes an avian.. heh... if u couldn't tell from the ref sheet.. but NOT a chicken!! The chicken jokes are just bc of the hoodie and bc his feathers look a lil similar :3

-he has like 2 of the same chicken hoodie he'll wear most often but still has some normal outfits AND assassins outfits and weapons he keeps away (most are green or have some sort of green in them heh.. I might draw that later)

-ok ok ok I have so many eye headcanons it's so hrggrrrrh the main one tho is one I snatched from the reincarnation au and that's that he doesn't have eyes!! Bc of an injury or sum and he js says he has sensitive eyes and the bandana fabric is see through up close.. but he can still see bc he's a player and the way players work is weird. Other headcanon, green eyes. Other headcanon, brown eyes. Other headcanon, heterachromia green and brown eyes. Other headcanon pure white eyes. Other headcanon code eyes. Other headcanon (gets hit by a bus)

-if we r going with the reincarnation au for the eyes, I feel like only rainbow and Lucas would know, if we're going with the others, I'd say rainbow, Lucas, Alex, galaxy, and maybe the guardian (I forgot if that's what he was called or not) would know. If we're going with the code eyes, then only lucas would know

-not sabre specifically but I feel like steves in general wouldn't be very used to or know but about blood/gore stuff, bc they're more used to being destroyed/poofing, and later on being destroyed through a machine. Being actually killed by a sword or something of the sort they are not used to seeing, and are very touchy on the subject

-on that note I imagine if there's like a steve that's immune to most or all other steve powers and or machines that they're trying to get rid of and arguing on what to so abt I imagine sabre being like "oh 1 sec I got this" and boom that mf DEAD 😭

-and they'd b like 😰

"Guess we're gonna have to kill this guy sabre" "damn"

-ermmm silly billy activity...

-I feel like he'd know a lot more than the other steves on things like the nether and end (not end city tho that's a whole other mc headcanon I don't feel like yapping abt rn) bc those are the dimensions players have access too and steves usually dont.. so they'd b like "WTF SABRE WHAT R U DOING THAT IS A LITERAL HELLSCAPE WITH LAKES OF FIRE AND MONSTERS WEVE NEVER SEEN BEFORE FYM U CAN GET 'NETHERITE' THERE" and he'd b like "well don't go in the fire then and it anything attacks u kill it ig" (not actually sob.. I feel like only he and Lucas would go there bc most steves r hindered greatly by lava and the only ones we've seen that aren't are bad guys if my memory is correct)

Ermm I have more but I'm eepy and can't remember so those r for another day!!!

Reblogs>likes

Don't post my art to other platforms without my permission pls x3

[darling-i-read-it]

Stu w/ a hyperfemine reader

Stu Macher x reader

Author's Note: I'm trying a newwwww style <3 I think that having stuff like this being a mix of headcanons and scenes! mini fics and such. lemme know what you guys think and I hope you like it love! Thanks for being my guinea pig lol

Request: i’m hyperfixating on scream cuz 6 just came out and your list says you write for it so can i plz request stu macher x hyperfeminine!reader fluff like they’re kinda opposites attract type thing idk lol 😊😊

Meeting Stu in the typically girly girl attire with that perky smile on your face was like sending him straight over the moon

He watched you, eyeing you up and down, curious and over telling

You weren’t even talking to him but it was like you were there for him. Or maybe he was just being obsessive. He was probably just being obsessive. 

Stu was the kind of guy who dated someone for fun, because he knew that it worked within a friend group or because of sheer popularity. It was usually never because he loved them. 

Though lets be fair. The first time he saw you he was not thinking about love. There was something so dear to him about your eyes lighting up as you cheeirly moved about the friend group

You seemed to be a friend of Sidney’s, which worked well in his favor. After things ended the summer before with Tatum Sidney had all but forgiven him for their little fling

Maybe, if Stu tried hard enough…Sidney could give him the number of her friend. You. He wants your number. He should probably ask Billy who could probably ask Stu. 

Lots going on in his brain <3 so much <3 

Him getting you alone for the first time is such a fun little time it’s so good

His smile widened as he approached you. Now that Sidney and Billy had left he could talk to you by himself, without her getting in the way. You were sitting on a fountain near the school, still smiling from the goodbyes you had given to your friend. He scooted closer to you. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before,” he said, nudging your side. You rolled your eyes. You knew of him. Sidney had told you plenty. Though his eyes were alluring and you were all too happy to oblige that look. 

“I think you have,” you promised. 

“I would’ve remembered.”

“I’ve been Sidney’s friend forever.” 

“Well I’ve been Billy’s friend forever. Not Sidney’s,” he explained. You narrowed your eyes at him, a smile on your face. He pointed at the skirt you were wearing, a fluff of pink at the bottom. “That’s pretty.” 

You noted that he said pretty. He didn’t say cute or girly. You smiled gratefully. 

“Thank you Stu. I like to flaunt my femininity.”

“I love flaunting femininity.”

Dating Stu is like…there’s always gonna be someone touching you. Even when you think he isn’t in the room BOOM there’s Stu and his hands on your sides

He loves everything about the hyperfemininity. He would play into it as much as you let him. He would buy you things you desired (while also being fully aware he’s being a bit of a dick when he points it out) 

He probably makes awful jokes about your femininity linking to your ‘natural woman desires’ 

He made one joke about cooking and cleaning and you hit him with your bag. 

He was very offended. He also didn’t really wanna mention it again (so he didn’t thank goodness) 

Sidney didn’t particularly like that you were together but she didn’t hate it either

She thought your energies matched rather well (she was unaware that Stu Macher could kill someone in cold blood)

But the high intensity of Stu always needed someone who could tame it or feed into it

He found that he adored your very natural brightness

“Hey Stu?” He had his hand on your thigh but he wasn’t paying attention to you until you spoke. 

“Yeah sweetheart?” You sat on your bed, watching some scary movie he had showed you. You had no quarrels with it but you weren’t truly watching it. He always seemed enthralled and you could usually flip through a magazine unbothered but still together, a quiet understanding. 

“Are you aware that you’re cuddling my little piggy?” He squinted, not sure what kind of joke you were making until he noticed he was cuddling your actual stuff pig. It was fluffy and large enough to be a pillow. 

He didn’t move away when he noticed. In fact, he pulled it closer to his chest with his arm that wasn’t on you. 

“Not your piggy anymore.”

“Stu!” You reached forward to grab it but he pulled away, now clutching it with boht hands. You giggled. You attempted to reach around him but with laughter he fought you off. You giggled together until you were laying on top of him, the pig between you. 

He made a pouty face at you. 

It usually caused the both of you to be the life of the party

Billy thinks it’s rather annoying. Double annoying for the plans that he has for Stu and him 

Whenever Stu was with you it was like it never mattered, what Billy had planned

Well he still wanted to kill someone

But that was beside the point. He wanted to hang out with you and live his life with you. He didn’t quite know what he would be without that. 

You caught glimpses of that sometimes, when his face drifted off or when a joke Billy made landed a little wrong

But he never made it seem too overt

He was always more willing to talk to you about other things. Compliment your outfits, exist within the constraints of your room or his

It was actually really sweet <3 

Always the boyfriend (even if he’s the boyfriend who always has a stupid reason to kill his gf i guess!)

“Sweetheart. You’re a sweetheart.” 

“Thanks Stu.”

“You are. You’re my sweetheart.” 

“Oh Stu.” 

He looked down at you, poking your nose, smiling brightly, eyes narrowed in adoration. 

“You look really good in pink.”

[evanescencelovrr]

Operation: Unforgettable

The Hunt

MDNI, fem pronouns, cursing, fighting, violence, blood, simon gets hurt :(, just a lil guys, reader does an interrogation. some military inaccuracies. inspo from jonny & simons scene as they interrogate milena—but a slight difference :) reader is involved! smut!! p in v.

enjoy yall ur comments & feedback means so much to me!

Masterlist here

You and Johnny managed to find a stairwell leading to the foyer below, immediately traveling down. You both hopped and skipped steps. Your feet hurt as you’re barefoot but there’s bigger fish to worry about now. The steady sound of your heart racing did nothing to soothe your nerves, as you both try to get away from the detonation site.

However, Johnny couldn’t resist making a joke next to you, sweating and heaving himself. He jumps down, skillfully landing.

“Fuckin’ hell lass, you’re somethin’ else runnin’ like tha’.”

“We have to.” You respond stiffly. Johnny could see the firmness yet the anxiety underneath your gaze, and he rounded the steps with you in tow. He had to admire your strength, you were like a stallion in your dress.

Only then—did a loud boom erupt minutes after Simon relayed his last position. One by one, the windows blew out from the pressure, glass shattering everywhere.

Both you and Johnny collapsed onto the stairs from the violent jolt, rolling down as the building swayed and shook, leaving your visions unsteady. Your head banged several times and Johnny himself heaved.

Eventually, your legs got tangled up in his, whilst loud grunts and groans could be heard from the stairwell.

A beam or two creaked loudly before collapsing, just a few feet away from your prone bodies. It lay haphazardly on the stairs. Dust and debris flew everywhere, attacking your nostrils.

Your palms bury in the ground, digging in for stability. There’s pain in your side but you disregard it as the need for survival comes first. Your blood rushes and pumps loudly in your ear, hot and brazen.

Coughing and shaking, Johnnys’ lengthy fingers wrap around your elbows to pull you up, as a series of screams and shouting erupted.

You two both staggered your way to the foyer and out the main hall through a set of doors. Your dress is ripped at the side where the zipper is at—but your focus is on the damage. Your eyes were wide and chest heaving with adrenaline.

It was distraught. The chandeliers had crashed and fell—people running like mad hens. The balcony top left stair crumbled completely, leaving only one side available for access. Glass shattered everywhere and painted the ground in sparkles.

You look to Johnny and he motions for you to stay put as you’re still barefoot. You then realize he has a small gash in his forehead.

“Johnny—“

“I know, dinnae fash yer’self.”

“Simon? Simon report.” Kyle shouts over the line and you spin around to see Kyle sweating and making his way over to you all. His boots crunch over glass, brows taut together.

Your eyes widened and you all wait for a response—head tilted and breaths held. Johnny pinched his chin in a vice grip, as his arms folded.

After a while noise comes in on all your comms.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Simon groans out, roughly. He heaved and groaned with effort, his voice portraying a slight tremor. You clench your gun as the building rumbled above, your eyes flicker to it as it was unsteady.

Another collapse was imminent.

“We gotta get out.” You breathed out harshly.

Johnny glares and grips his fists tightly, glancing at you, “I cannae leave him.”

“Simon, status?” Price shouts and you could hear the exasperation in his tone. Sharp and tense. Where was he? You know he didn’t exit along with you both. Your heart jumped and you frantically look around—no site of him.

“Shrapnel—I think. Stuck in the goddamned suite. It’s burnin. It’s burnin’ real bad’.” Simon huffs, and for a second you can hear the genuine agony in his tone. The smoothness is replaced by a shakiness and slight cry for help.

“Shit.” Johnny drags a hand down his lips.

“The suite? I have the key card.” You scrambled for it in your bra and held it up for the men. Kyle gives you a look but doesn’t say anything, his brows knit together and hands clenched tightly.

Johnny is too caught up with worry to crack a joke for his life. The site of his stern glare and intense gaze nearly had you pissing your pants. It was such a stark contrast to the chipper and vibrant Johnny.

Price cursed over the line as he didn’t have one. “Johnny, take the card. Meet me at the north side fast. We’ll get him out.” Price ordered tensely.

“Copy that.” Johnny replies instantly through his comm, yanking the card from your grasp. He turned into a blur as he angled between the yelling crowd. He was heading back to the dangerous burning site.

You couldn’t protest, or join him, as you’re left with Kyle. There was nothing for you to do anymore—you’re barefoot. Following would only compromise the mission and rescue op, and it made no sense.

Your dress is ripped at the seam, exposing a small amount of skin. It was easily hidden by your arms though when you lowered it. Your stomach doesn’t ease, though. Anxiety crawls up and down your stomach, making it churn uneasily. You feel the need to throw up but push it aside, closing your eyes momentarily.

The whole mission had turned upside down. With the explosion, and Simon hurt, two men going in to find him, it was a mess.

Kyle then motions for you to move out, from behind. “Come on.”

Turning to stumble out you cough from the smoke, back rattling. A woman races past you, her heels clicking. A fury of short hair flying. She shoves at a person, angling to run past.

That’s the one you recognize from the meeting upstairs.

You don’t hesitate.

Immediately pulling away from Kyle, you ran to her and threw her body against the column, fastening her hands around her back. She shouted and writhed, and Kyle sprinted over, grasping her shoulder to keep her still.

“She’s one of em.” You state roughly, jerking your gaze to him as you hold her wrists, “Stop resisting. We got you.”

The woman snarls and you then jerk her over to Laswell who’s by her SUV, in her tactical vest and wired up. She eyes the woman and recognition flashes in her eyes, “We got her.”

Laswell takes over and arrests her in the SUV for good measure. You sigh loudly, one job less to worry about.

Everyone is evacuated outside beyond a fence line and firefighter trucks roll in—blaring. Their lights flash brightly and you hear the shouts of them as they unload and begin working the aerial to the north side to cool the fire.

“We can’t vent the roof, it’ll collapse.” A firefighter shouted.

Unease fills you as your team members are still inside.

You turn back to Laswell, your jaw set and even the muscle jumps from the tension, “Fuckers figured me out. They’re gonna stall the delivery.”

You cursed and shook your head, praying Simon and Price made it back safely. Your eyes kept wandering back to the entrance, seeing smoke bellow and fire rave from above.

“No use worrying about that. We got her.” Kyles’ brow raised in the direction of the woman sitting in the car. She’s scowling, her head hung low and silent. You had a feeling she’d be tough to crack.

“Let’s hope she knows more than something. Can’t wait for the interrogation.” You scoff and cross your arms, then swivel your head to Kyle and Laswell.

“You and me both.” Kyle said firmly, not removing his steel gaze from her. He watched her like a hawk, eyeing her every movement.

“Has Qattarra cracked?” You ask, brow raised at Laswell.

“No. She’s been silent.” Laswell sighs, holding her walkie.

Just then—her walkie signals and your comms shoot alive.

“Bravo Team—how copy?”

“Good.” Kyle shifted on his soot covered dress shoes and sends his gaze to the entrance of the venue, vigilant and cautious.

“Price?” You immediately say, hand flying to your comm.

“We’re good. Kyles’ with me. Unharmed.” You said firmly, turning over to look at the entrance as well. Your eyes narrowed, trying to see for a sign of them. The smoke is so thick and turning black, a race against time.

Parts of the building structure rain down heavily, people dodging just in time as a statue crumbled down. Rocks collide and slam on the pavement.

Not a good sign.

“Everyone out! It’s gonna blow.” The fire chief shouts gruffly in his walkie, eyeing the blackening fire as he strides around the front of the venue. He grips his walkie talkie tightly, chest rising and falling from exertion. His eyes are filled with a maddening worry you understand.

“On the way.” Price says gruffly before the line glitches. You swallowed, heart pattering. As you watch the entrance, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of anxiety. Of course you cared for the team. You knew Simon was injured, and Johnny was in there helping.

And Price—he sounded okay.

A minute passed and eventually you see three hunky figures come out the smoke and debris. Simon is placed on a stretcher, his mask still on and his eyes are shut weakly. His rugged and pale features were on display—white vest completely soaked red. You know it’s not good. His arm drapes off the side and he then raises it, to give Johnny a thumbs up clumsily.

The blood loss made him woozy, because the real Simon would’ve never done such a thing. It only made you even worried, fingers itching to come over.

Johnny scoffs and can’t help the grin despite the situation. But immediately, Price and him and rushed to the side and Simon is placed in the awaiting ambulance.

“I’m goin’ with him, Cap.”

“Could use the help.” Price said, eyeing Johnny. But Johnny looks conflicted and stressed again—eyes flashing.

Price could sense his unease and then nods his head to the ambulance.

Johnny climbs in immediately and the doors shut.

Behind, a mushroom cloud of smoke erupts and another boom commences. The entire building shifts as the medics drive away to the nearest hospital. The roof caved in—leaving an expansive gaping hole where the fire broke free.

Before you could walk towards them, Kyle grabs your arm. You glance at it before looking at his warm charcoal eyes. You almost get lost in them—they shine so brilliantly in the light.

“Not yet.” He says gently, although his eyes stayed on yours. “Stay with me.”

You stay by his side and more than ever, you’re thankful for your team member. Kyle places a comforting hand on your shoulder and you crossed your arms tightly, brows set in a furrow.

Back at base, it was absolutely tense. Price leaned over his desk, suit jacket thrown aside and tie loose. He looked a mess. He was stiff and silent, bracing his hands on the desk. A strand of his hair flicked down.

And Kyle sat on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, and hunched over. He was tense as well, his leg was bouncing a million miles a minute, the sound of his zipper flapping filling your ears.

“Come on, we can’t waste time.” Price suddenly spoke up and you’re immediately at his side. You moved from the table you were leaning against, causing your gear to shift.

Kyle looks up, alert and awake.

You lean over the table and Laswell strides in—sensing the tension in the office. Her heels click loudly, arms swinging with vigor. A few other men follow in and they set their briefcases down, unloading a bunch of paperwork.

“He’s alright. Just checked in with the surgeon. A bit of shrapnel pierced his lung.” Laswell said—immediately loud sighs and groans filled the room of relief.

Kyle got up and followed them to the table determined as ever. His fists are clenched, as he too understands the importance of his team.

“First name basis, huh? That’ll do ya a lot.” Price said to Laswell, slightly amused to help the situation, although his face was focused.

She scoffed and turned her torso to the interrogation room, chest heaving. She was coated thinly with sweat from all the movement. “Better to have connection with me than to not, right?”

“Damn right.” Kyle said, rubbing his scruffy jaw.

“Is she talking?” Laswells eyes snapped to Price, before the interrogation window again. Inside, the woman sat. It was the woman Laswell arrested.

You craned your neck, eyes narrowing slightly. Your arms were crossed and your blazer pulled tightly at the corners from the effort.

“I haven’t taken a crack at her yet.” You said, then uncrossed your arms and placed them onto the cold glass table. Your eyes peer up at Laswell, seeing Kyle grow irritated at the lack of the woman’s compliance. You can’t blame him. Time was ticking and Simon got hurt because of her incompetence as well as her people.

“Take a stab at her. We need the details.” Laswell cocks her head.

You look to Price who nodded, his eyes tracking you. You clear your throat and enter in. You strode on your kitten heels that gave just a bit of height, whilst not destroying your feet from earlier events. You cross your arms and lean over her, your dress pants straining.

She sat, head down. But upon hearing you, she stiffens up.

“Milena.” You say, slowly. Almost as if tasting her name on your tongue. The glint in your eyes make her stiffen up and she swallowed, clutching at her arms. She doesn’t like the way you say it and it only irks her.

Good.

“I hear you’re not talking.”

Milena grits her teeth, her eyes darting away. That only elicits a dangerous flame to light in you. You take well to hostages behaving stubborn and defiant—especially when the team was under pressure already.

“Who’s your Boss?” You spit, impatiently and frustrated. Your hand slam down on the table, asserting dominance and frightening her sitting form.

She swallowed and her chest heaved.

“I don’t have one. I work alone.” Her russian accent is thick and she enunciates the “t” heavily. You narrow your eyes, not buying it for a second. A lone woman like her? She must have connections and ties. Special relations.

Besides you is a laptop and you grab at it swiftly, leaning over it.

“I don’t buy your bullshit.”

“Believe what you want, if it comforts you.” She spat, and you turn your head to her. Something in your expression shifts and it has her shaking. You raised a brow—almost in admiration and respect for her tone. You’re slightly amused as well, by the hostage.

She sure had it coming. “For someone who’s being held captive, you have a lot of tongue on you.”

Milena glares up at you, resembling a pouting child in your eyes.

You lean forward, not hesitating to grab her hand.

She tensed up. “What are you doing—“

“Taking your hand—“

“Why? So you can cut it off?” Milena snaps, as you drag her finger to the sensor of the laptop. You scoff, a lip quirking up. Now she was giving you ideas. You’re amused by her behavior even more, finding it entertaining.

“Don’t go around threatening me with a good time, Milena.” You say smoothly.

This shuts her up for now.

Immediately you have access to her banking site and Milena recognized the site. She crossed her arms once her hand is free, glancing at it with daggers, her silence was soon replaced by another snarky comment, “Nothing in my bank account will get you closer to Vladimir.”

Your head lowered as you scrolled through her bank account. Sure enough you recognize the transfers and ID numbers. You suck in a breath, and soon behind you, you hear commotion. You don’t turn around though, whatever it is, Price has it handled.

That was until the interrogation room slammed open, revealing a tall and hunky, sweating Simon. He’s coiled and tense, his simple balaclava mask revealing brooding and bloodshot eyes. He leans heavily on the door, his eyes trailing over to your leaning form, and then Milena like daggers. Like he caught his prey.

You clamp your mouth shut—and realize Milena was in for a good scare.

Sure enough, she begins to breathe heavily at the sight and you hear Johnny from behind—“I tried to get him to listen—“

The door shuts.

“Why the mask?” Milena digs at Simon who leans against the wall, burly arms crossed as he watches you work like a hawk.

The Brit has no little to no patience. Frustration rolls off of him in waves and you know he’s seconds away from releasing what he’s holding back. He’s more so pissed off—not by the little lady bickering and trying to start an after school fight, but the fact the mission tossed sideways, wasting more time. Precious time.

He was like a toy box winding up. For now, he stood back.

“To hide my face.” He responds gruffly, his strong Manchester accent spitting out.

Milena jumps, not expecting it.

“Her bank records trace back to the Zordaya Prison. Multiple Konni accounts are hidden in here, damned witch.” You spit, eyes cutting her a stare you know she can’t run from.

“Money for Makarovs escape.” Simon puts two and two together. The name made her flinch and she looked away from Simon.

You revel in her reaction.

“Wealth opens doors.” The smug woman says, shrugging. Despite her cocky choice of words, you could tell she was close to cracking. And Simons presence was making it a helluva lot harder for her to stay still.

You scoffed. “More like blood money. That’s what this is.”

“Swiss account. Personal. It’s been tapped.” You say, unable to help the lifting grin that graces your lips. You lean back on one heel— bent to gaze at the laptop. You got her now.

This seems to have struck her nerve and sleuth of russian escapes past her lips—glaring at you.

“Думаешь, я тебя не пойму? (You think I wouldn’t understand you?)

You return, seeing her shrink down, her heart elevated. Her corotid is jumping at your efficiency Russian—cracking her open. Having another woman beat down on her and expose her, all whilst in her mother tongue was like slicing a knife through her.

Simon nodded his head up very slightly in approval of your tone. He has seen you interrogate a few times, and knows you have nothing in you to sit down and enjoy a game of poker. If anything, you were similar to him. But he didn’t carry the decorum you did.

You go back for her hand and she yells, “What the fuck are you doing—“

Simon then advanced forward, having enough of this. He ignores his pain, and looms over her beside you, head positioned down. His heavy lidded eyes bore into hers like needles, the black war paint illuminating them more dangerously. “Give her the print, or tell us where to find Makarov.”

You inwardly thank him for his support. But for now, you remain focused, eyeing her.

“Fuck. You.”

She should not have done that.

Simon leans forward slowly, angling himself. He searched her eyes and then narrowed them, invading her personal space to where she flattened herself against the chair in terror.

The look in his eyes—the impatience, the way they flickered with something unbridled, made her hesitate.

“We. Need. Makarov.” Simon then enunciated, his voice coming out in a poisonous spit. He never removes his steel eyes from hers, his hand slowly reaching for his sidearm to threaten her even more.

If anything the pain stabbing his lung makes him growl out the words insistently, with a sense of force. “Now.” His lip sneers.

“Where is he?” He demanded, much less of a question. You had to admit, his voice sent chills down your spine as you watched them both. You admire Simon as he worked efficiently despite his injury.

Milena’s lips wobbled and she then shouted his location.

——

You’re busy gearing up before the next mission in the armory, pulling on your shirt. Your hair is tied up and out the way, shifting on your combat boots with ease. You replay the interrogation in your mind over and over again, never wanting to be in Milenas’ position. Simon had her real good. He was getting checked by Johnny in the meantime—to which you heard Simon cuss.

Soon, boots scuffled against the ground and Price appears. He slaps a folder on the table beside him, and enters in, closing the door. A moment with the captain.

You spin around slowly, brow raised. You know he’s here to talk. Your hand works the pouch you wore, tightening the belt.

“That russian sounded a lil’ too good.” He said gruffly, almost with a proud glint as he watched you. He leaned against the door, his arms crossed. The lights above flickered and you swallowed, resting your shotgun rifle in the locker. It slumps from the weight.

His gaze is like a knife tracing over your hot searing skin.

“Price.” You said, eyes meeting his burning ones.

“You think I forgot that little stunt you pulled?” He then stalked closer, after the lock clicked as his hand moved. It hung by his side and your breath hitched. You were clad in your cargo pants, and a compression top, yet the top did nothing to provide pressure to calm your pounding heart.

“Price, I—“ You said his name, trying to explain but he cuts you off when he grappled for your waist and pressed you against one of the lockers firmly. His eyes roam all over you and he shushes you, his breath fanning across your face.

“I know, I know you said it was a game. Is that all this is to you?” He says lowly, a slightly condescending tone to it. You narrow your eyes and something in your heart lurched at his words. Was it all just a game? Only sex?

“What is it to you, if it’s just a game?” You spit back, feeling your head press against the locker metal. You swallow and his eyes track the way your neck moves, a hand reaching up to stroke the delicate skin. It makes you shudder, your resolve weakening. But you grip the side of the open locker door tightly.

“Quite answering my questions with questions, sweet’art. You know where that’ll land you.” Price murmurs and then his larger hand gently wraps around your neck. You nearly found yourself melting into his touch, the simple act drawing something submissive out of you.

Your head tilts and gently his padded fingers press at the side of your neck, not choking, but holding.

“You and that little red dress. All night. Teasing me. I need to get it off.” Price whispers, leaning in to touch the shell of your ear. His tongue licks the curve and you closed your eyes, feeling heat spread between your legs and stomach.

“You think I didn’t think about you? How we could’ve been matching? If you wore a red tie. Matching with my heels. My dress. My lipstick.”

“Is that what you want?” His warm voice traveled deep in you, and sent shivers, “Because if you want that, we’d have to be more.”

You stiffen up and tilt your head to look at him. His hand strokes your belly, before traveling low and under your shirt. He teases your waistband, and removes your gun and pouch. He places them in the locker and resumes his movements, feeling for the thin lacy material.

Your breath catches, “And what? Do you like the sound of us being more?”

“You tell me, with those pretty noises.” Price nearly groans it in your ear, his body weight pressing against yours with need. Your legs shake as he managed to find that pudgy button and warmth explodes in your lower area. You bit your lip to which he grabs your chin and jerks it to him.

He watches as the flesh gets pulled under your teeth and pants at the sight. “I’ll make you forget him.”

“I don’t care about him.” You said roughly, aching with need and desire for Price. Your chest heaved, feeling his hand stroke soothing circles right where you craved it the most. The skin erupts with tingles and you struggle to hold back a moan to talk.

“And you care about me? You can’t get me outta’ that pretty head of yours?” Price hums and it almost sounds condescending. But to you, it sounds hot. The way he teases and taunts you as you’re in no position to bite back.

Your panties are soaked—an admission of your feelings. “When you make it sound like that, it’s as if I care more.” You scoff.

Price pushed against you more—causing a strangled gasp to leave you. His hand presses firmly against your poor throbbing clit, his nose brushing your jaw, then your ear and to the slender curve of your neck.

“You have a nasty mouth on you. Been too long since our last fucking?” He growls out, shoving your pants down swiftly. Before you know it, he delivers a sharp slap to your puffy clit and you jerk, crying out.

“Get on me.” He orders. You jump and wrap your legs around his wider waist and arms around his neck, angling your head to kiss him feverishly. It’s true. Ever since the venue you’re left for craving for him all over again. You want to ravish him and take him all for yourself—much more than ever.

And Price is consumed by the same feelings. The desire to feel you around him, shaking and unable to focus on anything else but the way he stretches you. He wants to make you forget about him—that stupid little boy, and wants you to focus on what he can give you instead.

“I’ve got you.” He whispers in the kiss, almost soothingly, as if reassuring you your desires were safe to explore. Your head spins at his voice and warmth climbs up your arms and neck, as a flush settles on your cheeks.

“You and those pretty little heels. The ones I got for ya. Would love to do you in those.” Price huffs and grabs your face, kissing harder before you could respond. He swings around to dump your behind on the table and it shakes. Your hands immediately unfasten his belt and Price groans with need.

“I made sure to save em. You never know.” You tease, panting heavily in his mouth. Price helps you undo his thick belt and tosses them aside, the metal clanking. His pants drop heavily, and he scrambles to yank off his shirt.

Naked now, all that’s exposed are thick quads, bulky legs and a toned abdomen. Which is covered in a happily trail leading lower. You could see the imprint of his bulge against his boxers and you nearly drool. There’s a wet spot and you only imagine the way the liquids must be leaking down in thin white beads. Over the veins, over the throbbing skin.

You trail your eyes up and take in the sight of his wider chest, biceps flexing and straining as he undoes his boxers. His eyes stare at you hungrily, lips parting to breath harsh and fast—his hair chest rising and falling.

“Eyeing me up as if this ain’t the first time.” He mutters, discarding his boxers and then leaning in. You groan loudly, although muffled as his lips silence yours, moving with a fast unbridled pace. His tongue immediately pushes in, seeking entrance and demanding to explore.

Your tongue twirl and tangle. This isn’t soft and sensual with the usual tender licks—no he was livid. In the way his tongue pursued yours. Your head tilted back and you scrambled off your panties as well.

Soon, he slots himself between your legs.

“Raw?” He mutters, jerking himself off as precum dribbles down and coats his veiny, thick shaft. His balls were hanging low and his bulbous head points at you, red and angry. It’s thick and wide enough to bully your folds.

You moan at the sight, and the sound revs him. “Raw. Get it in.”

And just like that, his hips fill yours. He doesn’t stop, no, he pushes in one go and the feeling has you yelling in ecstasy. Immediately his hand covers your pretty mouth to muffle it and your head is craned back against the wall, feeling him bottom out. His tip kisses your cervix snug, and you had no time to adjust before the man starts pounding.

“Take it, take it all. Every inch. Naughty girls like you need this. You crave it, don’t you?” Dirty words fly out your captains mouth as his hips jack hammer at an intense unforgiving pace. Each pound has gasps leaving you, body shaking. The fat of your thighs jiggle, and your hands scramble to hold the edge of the shaking table.

“Oh, you can’t respond.” Price said smugly, keeping his hand over your mouth. He can feel how you quake and grab at his length, gummy walls squeezing and collapsing. It hugs him down good he groans and vocalizes his sounds. His head lowers, and long groans left him, eyes shutting at the feeling.

You grab at his head with one hand—the other supporting you and you eye him. You’re hazy with pleasure and your head spine, as the table squeaks and rocks.

“Oh? You want to hear me more?” Price leans and whispers, in your ear. His hand stays firm on your mouth and he chuckles shakily—entertained by your actions. The way you can’t talk, completely consumed by his control.

He breaths out loudly, with a mixture of a guttural moan leaving him. The sound has you rolling your eyes back.

“That’s right, you like it when I come in to do you? Hm? And cover your mouth—so no one can hear your filthy noises?” He grunts sharply, sweating. He grips the table with his one hand and then his other rests on your stomach, pressing and feeling his bulge jut in and out.

“Be a good girl and stay quiet, f’me.”

You try—his hand has you gasping and writhing, eyes shutting tightly. You think you see stars, the pressure was making it intense. Your legs spasm and your feet arch, toes curling. You barely repress this noise.

“You’re doing so good, sitting there, legs spread like a doll. Takin’ it f’me.”

“You jus’ needed my cock, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t believe the dirty things flying out his mouth. All you could do was groan loudly and shudder, sweat soaking your skin completely. You were sure you needed a shower before gearing up.

“Fuck, Price.” You could only say, yet be understood how lost in the pleasure you were. His eyes roamed greedily over the way you arched, your breasts jutting out and the skin trembling. Your hair bouncing back, angling your head so your neck was revealed and clavicle. Your brows arched and lips parted to moan.

“God you look so fuckin’ pretty under me.” He rasps, leaning in over you. Your back falls onto the table and you accidentally shove his folder off. It falls—paper scattering about. But none of you care.

If anything, he jack hammers into you, right against your gummy spot where he knows he’ll have you crying out the most. But he quickly covers your mouth to silence you—sweating himself. A strand of his hair falls forward onto his forehead.

“Shh shh, take it.” He can see the pleasure in your eyes, the tears. The haziness has him hooked completely, and he is sure he can never erase you out of his mind. Soon enough he feels his balls tighten and he grunts, eyeing you. You shudder and grab at the table, approaching your orgasm. Your toes curl and your neck tenses up.

Price pulls out before he could release into you, splattering onto your stomach. He grunts loudly and leans his head down to muffle them into your sweaty neck, as you convulse under him.

Soon, the two of you are left shaking and panting for air. You could feel his release traveling against your skin and sinking into your navel and your hands scramble to his shoulders. You’re still experiencing the afterglow and your eyes blink slowly.

“You bloody idiot. You came on me.” Your voice is somewhat groggy.

“Would you have rather me come into you?” Price teased, gruffly. He straightens up, needing a shower himself. He looked at your stomach and reveled in the way it coated you, thick fluids gliding. Your stomach quivered and he sucked in a breath.

“Fuck—no.” You muttered and sighed. Shakily you grabbed a napkin—but Price stopped you.

“Stop. You’re wasting it.” He muttered, holding your wrist. You paused and stared up at him wide eyed, still flushed.

“I’ll teach you what to do when you let me cum like this.” He murmurs and then his finger traces down your stomach. You jump, still sensitive from your orgasm and shudder. You whimper, and he stifled a groan at it.

Before you know it, your lips are wrapped around his finger that feeds you his sticky fluids. He watches the way those plump lips stuck, and he nuzzles your head with his nose. “So good f’me.”

The mere words has you melting. You wouldn’t do something as depraved as this—yet here you were. Eating his release that landed on your stomach. The things he made you do.

He then grabbed his clothes when you finished and you did as well, your back facing him. None of you say anything. The silence pierces your heart and you ignore the dull ache. You wanted to hear him say something. Something soft.

To be held.

The way he held you just now.

More.

But instead, you were met with his muscled back and you frowned. You were glad he couldn’t see you, because you looked like a kicked puppy. You then put your clothes on before heading to the showers. The door shuts, and Price buckled himself up, fingers working fast as he watches you leave.

The one thing he can’t get out his mind, is how you looked wrapping your lips around his finger and swallowing him. Those half lidded eyes consumed by pleasure and a hint of surprise at your own behavior.

Property of evanescencelovrr. do not modify, repost, or translate.

[questintheskies]

Adam Cole before and after Riho kicked his ass

[tapakah0]

Girl omg I am IN ABSOLUTE LOVE with your animatics- I’dmarrythemifIcould- can I ask what program do you use for animatics? And do you have any tips on making animatics (especially abt character and camera movement) or any sneak peaks into your process? I’ve been wanting to dip my toes into trying it out but I’m not quite sure where to begin.

I have Clip Studio Paint EX, but I’m still trying to figure out the animation features etc and, again, I wanna try my hand at making animatics, that’s why I’m asking :3

Okay... For almost all animatics I use Toon Boom Harmony Premium (it has a lot of stuff and it's comfortable for me) Also sometimes I use Krita and Clip Studio Paint (I used this video to understand main features of this program (Little fact, I used Clip Studio to animate "Yellow light" for the first time). Lately started animating in Procreate too, pretty funny and comfortable one About tips... I had one about smoother shifts between frames (but for some reason I can't find it? Even with the fact that I did put a special tag on it) and I don't know what exactly you need about other tips. Almost everything I make intuitively, I kinda see where to move camera too make right effect? But I can tell one most useful tip, if you really wanna animate, try to imagine how it will move in your head, use references (just watch video and copy on paper on program moves from there), look how things in your life moves, it will slowly stuck in your head if you will be stubborn enough. Because, I will be honest, I didn't learn any animation basics but over time, as I look at video lessons, I understand tha I do know them (but I think it will be important to know them theoretically, not only intuitively, if you will work with other people, because they help to specify how it should be animated (key frames, inbetweens, timing and other things) Artists which lessons I use to watch from time to time or I just love their way of animating: Toniko Pantoja, Alex Grigg // Animation for Anyone, GOBELINS Paris, ToastyGlow, pollovy, -岂几Kai-, Neal Illustrator, SAD-ist, Casserole :D, WolfyTheWitch, Rodrigo Sousa, Amelia B (There are more, but these are the first ones I always remember, and of course a lot of cartoons)

About wips...... I have a lot... "I bet my life", "Finale" Leo's pov, "Earth" and others in queue... I almost completed key frames for "Agnes" animatic (Full song, about 4 minutes? I'm making my dream live over here he-he-he), but I am so crazy about sending wips so that I created my little rabbit hole (to hide from Cass *giggle*) to stop sending them on tumblr because I want to make full emotional experience from completed work... It's not so cool if you already experienced first emotions from this when you could experience the whole thing biting your knees

I hope something from there was helpful, don't rush, try to understand how it all works firstly, try to understand what kind of animatic you want to make and what you want to show and make it~~~~ You will love it when you'll see what you're able to create~~~

[lanabuckybarnes]

Tha gaol agam ort.

This was originally a drabble, now it’s probably a mediocre one shot but the words kept coming and my fingers kept typing.

I just wanted an excuse to boast that I’m Scottish lol. I hope you enjoy. There should be a rough translation with every word or phrase but if I’ve missed any let me know!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Scottish! Female reader

Trigger Warnings: Swearing is all! Unless you count the use of Y/N as one. Also I call Scots a dialect once, please don’t come for me my people.

Word Count: 1.9k (oh my god it’s over 1000 words!!!)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

When Bucky had first met Y/N, he had no clue what she was saying but the confusing phrases and silly placement of random words she intrigued him. Originally just her speech had him interested but it wouldn’t stay like that.

It was only after 4 months of getting to know her, speaking to her almost everyday, whether she was happy, sad or drunk until Bucky had been confident enough to say he understood what she was saying. Most of the time.

The others though, they hadn’t a clue.

It was winter, the temperature dropping rapidly each day. The crime didn’t stop. Bucky and Y/N had just finished their patrol, thoughourly soaked to the bone from the unrelenting rain.

The doors to the elevator opened on the communial floor, Y/N popping out first with a grumpy Bucky, looking akin to a soggy cat following behind.

“Fuck me it’s baltic out there like” the thick accent boomed across the living area, the others looked at her in confusion. Bucky gazed at their bewildered faces, sighing.

“She said it’s cold”. At the translation they all gave a variation of agreement, they were thankfully Bucky had spent a lot of time around her. They needed a translator, and he needed a girlfriend.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Lover boy. Sam had started calling him around HQ and it stuck, much to Bucky’s bemusement and confusion. He didn’t see the heart eyes he’d gaze at Y/N with, after all. ‘They were just too lazy to learn’, he said to himself, pummeling shot after shot into the thick punching bag.

“Careful lover boy, you’ll knock the stuffing out of it” Sam quipped, entering the gym, his skipping ropes hung loosely over his shoulder.

“Lover boy” Bucky repeated lowly whilst sending a vicious right hook into the leather, he was thinking of Sam’s face. The nickname tasted disgustingly bitter on his tongue, Sam just laughed.

‘Lover boy? What the hell kind of name was Lover boy anyways?’ A deep scowl settling itself onto his features as he thought. He almost didn’t hear the gym door squeak open again.

“Ooft, don’t look in the fridge you’ll turn the milk sour” She giggled at her own joke. ‘Very funny Y/N’ Bucky mused in his head. His scowl worsened, if it was even possible but he failed to repress the small blush at the sound of her chuckles.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Bucky had been stuck on those words all day. The the nickname never failed to leave his head after any one of the group called him it, the foul mood it brought following it as well. The only person Bucky hadn’t chewed the head off of was Y/N. Which the others weren’t particularly surprised about.

Watching a grown man shovel cereal into his mouth was probably the most interesting thing Y/N had ever seen, sorcerers and aliens be damned. The conversation she was having with Nat and Sam fading in and out of her mind in favour of watching Bucky chew violently, throughly slaughtering the wheat O’s.

“What do you think?” Nat asked, a smile playing on her lips. She’d caught her staring at Bucky, again.

“Huh?”

“About love, Sam thinks that everyone has a soulmate but I’m not so sure. What say you?” Nat clarified, leaning forward on her chair.

“Well my granny used to say, ‘What’s fur ye, will no go by ye’ so I suppose that’s my stance” She smiled at Nat who’s jaw had dropped in utter confusion.

“Hey lover boy, translate that” Sam shouted over to Bucky, his icy gaze turned in the direction of the trio. Allowing himself to linger a little too long on Y/N’s soft features.

“Hey!” Clicking his fingers at Bucky, Sam directed his attention back to the conversation.

“She said what’s for you won’t go by you. It means if you are bound to get something you will get it”. His features turned almost deadly “and click your fingers in my face again and you’ll get what’s coming for you”

“Ok, ok. Keep the heid” (calm down) she interjected, her small hand coming up to rest on the metal of Bucky’s shoulder , her soft fingers grazing over the sensitive skin at the edge. Such a simple gesture shouldn’t have caused his heart to flutter in the way it did.

As soon as Y/N had disappeared, Nat following behind, Bucky cornered Sam in the kitchen.

“Why do you keep calling me that?” He questioned. Sam picked up on the threatening tone laced through his voice.

“Calling you what man?” He chuckled back, trying to act innocent but he crumbled, laughing at the tension.

“Lover boy.”

The sound of Bucky’s angry voice saying those words had Sam buckled in two. He laughed hard, his palm slapping against his thigh as he propped himself up with the other.

“You don’t think we haven’t seen those looks, for a grumpy old man you sure do give her the heart eyes” Sam spoke once his fit of giggles subsided.

“Banner ‘hypothosised’ you were falling in love the first time you translated for her. Not a single person in this building knows what she’s saying except you, it’s not friendship that’s making you want to learn”

Bucky’s faced was flushed red, from anger or embarrassment at being caught out? he had no clue. Probably from both.

“Steve is the least laziest man I know and even he couldn’t learn, he tried many times” Sam explained. Bucky remebered the few occasions Steve had grabbed him by the shoulder or wrist, asking what the misspelled phrases or words in his little red book had meant, phrases you’d said to him that flew over his head. Sam was right.

“Steve also had 10$ on you having a crush on her” Sam let slip, tucking in his lips as soon as the words escaped.

“You’re taking bets on me!” He hissed

“Come on man, how could we not. It was Tony’s idea” Sam was trying to save his own ass by pushing others under the bus.

“I cannot believe you” Bucky snapped before turning on his heel, he’d deal with Sam later. Right now he had to relax. His feet moved on their own, seeking out a familiar room.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Her door rattled, its hinges threatening to break if they were shuddered any longer.

“Alright keep your hair on I’m coming” she exclaimed, rushing from the bathroom with a pale green facial mask painted on her face.

“Bucky! w-what are you doing here?” She asked, embarrassment filling her body at the thought of her appearance.

He didn’t say a word, pushing past her and flopping down on her bed in a way a huffy toddler would flop to the floor if they didn’t get their own way.

“Ok then” she mumbled to herself, taking a seat next to his sprawled out body.

“Who shat in your cereal?” A normal thing for her to say, he knew she was only asking what was up. Even if her tone was a little mocking.

“Sam”.

“Oh how did I guess?” Laughing at her own words as she lay back beside Bucky, her head unintentionally resting against his inner arm.

He thought of moving, thought of whipping his arm to his side but the soft hair slightly tickling his flesh was grounding him. Allowing the anger to dissipate from his body.

“You know they keep calling me lover boy” He stated. ‘Lover boy?’ She thought. ‘Why lover boy?’.

“Why lover boy?” She asked, the question mimicking his thoughts from earlier.

“Well that’s what I asked Sam. I didn’t like his answer, not that it was much of an answer” Bucky responded, although Sam had told him bluntly he didn’t feel comfortable enough to repeat it to her.

He turned his head to watch her soft features try to determine the answer of her own question, she hadn’t even noticed his sapphire eyes watching her. With those same heart eyes that Sam had mentioned.

Gazing lovingly into the side of her head. His pupils dilated, watching every twitch of her brows, every time her eyelashes brushed against her cheek as she blinked. Every time her pink tongue peeked out to wet her plush lips.

Oh my god! Sam was right. He hadn’t just learned her dialect because of genuine interest in the meaning, but because of his interest in her.

He pulled his body up suddenly, her head flopping against the bed causing her to squeak in surprise.

“Gonnae no dae that!” (Don’t do that!) She yelped in surprise, the accent coming through thicker than ever but Bucky was far too focused on his own thoughts.

“Bucky?” She sat up as well, leaning forward almost comically to catch a glance of his frustration streaked face.

“Are you alright?” ‘Fuck that accent was distracting’ he thought. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up, he didn’t want to lose Y/N as a friend but the longer the feelings festered the worse they got felt to keep hidden.

“No. I can’t do this anymore Y/N, I can’t be around you everyday, I can’t watch movies together, I can’t drink with you anymore. I can’t do anything with you anymore. Not until I’ve said what I have to say” Bucky exclaimed. He was sure he sounded angry to her but after all the pent up frustration as a result of having to keep himself from smashing his lips against hers had built up to its boiling point, he was hoping she’d understand.

“What the hell is going on?” She sounded crestfallen, the words breaking her heart. Had she said or done something wrong? Offended him in some way?

“I have spent too much time together with you, as friends. I can’t keep denying my feelings anymore, it’s hurting me physically to hold myself back. I’m borderline insane because I have to contain my thoughts of you” He took a deep breath, looking everywhere but her wide eyes.

“I love you, I have done so for a while. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, I mean I’m a horrible person. The things I did as the Winter Soldier to you, to everyone I’m surprised you even consider me a frie-“

He didn’t get the chance to finish his rant before she’d pulled him towards her. Stealing his lips away from his words selfishly.

The realisation of what exactly was going on clicked, he acted quickly, pulling her close. Almost too close to his own large frame. He groaned into her mouth at the feeling of her long nails scratching his scalp lightly.

His tongue poked against her mouth, fighting for dominance against her own when she let him in.

He’d never imagined he’d feel a kiss like this, not ever again but here it was. If he could’ve, he would’ve died of asphyxiation right then and there. She pulled away first, her breath heavy against his swollen mouth and reddened face.

“You’re an eejit” (idiot) She beamed, pecking his lips again.

“Tha gaol agam ort” she whispered, as if anything louder would scare him and his thoughts of her away.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, he knew a lot of phrases but this one had him stumped. She noticed the confusion in his features.

“It means I love you” she explained, tucking a loose strand of his soft brunette hair behind his ear.

“I love you too” he replied, mustering up all the passion he felt for her and squeezing it into those few words. Her eyes widened slightly, a laugh bubbling up from her throat. She tried covering her mouth but he pulled her hand away.

“What? What is it?” He smiled as well. Her giggles setting off bubbling fireworks in his abdomen.

“You have my face mask all over you”

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Ahhh, im actually proud of this. Even if it was a little selfish of me to write one with this topic.

AND it’s over 1000 words which is a big deal considering I can’t seem to stay focused for 2 minutes. I can’t wait to never write something as good as this again lol

I hope you enjoy x

[jessmaybank]

Jailbirds; part 4 - Caught red handed

Series masterlist

Outer banks masterlist

Pairing(s): JJ Maybank x fem! Reader.

Word count: 2k

Summary: you see JJ for the first time since you were arrested whilst at a party on the cut.

Warnings: alcohol use, smoking, swearing, mentions of sex & masturbation, mentions of abuse, mentions of drugs, violence!!, tiny bit of smut, Y/N sucks JJ’s finger lol.

You stood at the entrance to a dimly lit house on the edge of the cut, taking the last drag of your cigarette before chucking it on the floor and gazing at the building in front of you.

The booming music engulfed you as you navigate yourself through the crowds of people scattered across the un-cut lawn. The party was in full swing as you walk up to the porch, observing the various people laughing and dancing.

A couple weeks had passed since you got arrested. Amazingly, your parents never even found out, and you had gotten away with it.

You hadn’t seen or heard from JJ since. You lived on opposite sides of OBX and your social circles didn’t mix, so you never really saw him around anyway. Despite this, you still found yourself looking out for the shaggy haired blonde whenever you left the house.

You couldn’t help but wonder if JJ remembered your shared escapade with the same intensity as you did. No one had ever satisfied you like he did, and you knew that was rare. But that didn’t change the fact that he was a pogue, and you were a kook. It was like trying to mix ice with fire.

You scanned the perimeter as you walk into the house, observing your surroundings. The house was full to the brim with party-goers, and you couldn’t remember the last time you came to a party this busy.

Despite the chaotic environment, you found your friends pretty quickly. It was a rarity your group came to parties on the cut, but this was a rager which couldn’t be missed.

About an hour or two into the night, you returned to the front porch to have a cigarette, alcohol cursing through your veins. You dig the cancer stick out of your pocket, parting your plump red lips to place the cigarette in your mouth.

The cool evening air engulfs you as you pull your lighter out of your jacket, and you quickly realise it’s ran out of gas.

“Stupid fucking thing” you ramble, trying your hardest to get it to work.

“Here” a male voice says, and you turn your head to see JJ standing beside you, a matching cigarette dangling from his cherry red lips. He extends his ring clad hand to pass you a lighter, which you accept.

Anticipation fluttered in your chest as you took in his chiseled features, his cheeks slightly rosy from the alcohol he had been drinking.

The faintest of smirks graced his lips as you lit your cigarette, the orange flame lighting up your face briefly.

Your eyes lock as you hand him the lighter back, taking a drag of your cigarette and exhaling, as you observe the mischievous glint that danced in his eyes, tinged with a touch of longing.

JJ had spent the last two weeks wondering when he would see you again. Although he was basically fraternising with the enemy, he just couldn’t get you out of his head. He would find himself in bed at night, insides burning at the memory of you riding him senseless, your manicured hands tugging at his blonde locks. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t gotten himself off a couple times at the thought.

What he couldn’t understand though, was the possibility that you actually might feel the same. When your friendship with Kiara ended because she became friends with the pogues, she didn’t exactly paint you and your friends in a good light. Kie would get drunk at the chateau and bitch about your group to JJ and the others, stating that all the people at the kook academy were rude spoilt brats. Whilst JJ knew that was definitely the case for a majority of kooks, he had an inkling that you might be different. But you were practically kook royalty, and he was just a dirtbag from the cut. Why the hell would you want him?

“Thanks” you mutter, your voice carrying a faint tremor of vulnerability, which was unlike you. A couple weeks ago you were moaning the blondes name, now you couldn’t even find the words to talk to him.

“You been keeping out of trouble?” JJ asks, flicking the ash from his cigarette onto the floor before he places his arms on the varnished wooden railing on the porch. You were so concentrated on the way his hair was perfectly sprawling out of his backwards cap that you almost didn’t hear him.

The conversation was cut short as your heads both turn to the front yard, watching as Rafe’s jeep pulled up to the house, the music in his car faint as it was being drowned out by the party. You mentally curse as you realise this probably means more drama for you.

Ever since you beat the living shit out of Sofia, her and Rafe would drive around town looking for you, eager to get their revenge. You never had the pleasure of actually running into them, that is until tonight.

“Surprisingly, yes. But I think that might be about to change” you say, a tinge of nervousness in your voice. You put your cigarette out by stamping on it, and down the rest of your beer, knowing what’s about to happen.

The sound of car doors slamming fills your ears as Rafe, Sophia and Topper step out of the expensive vehicle, making their way up to the porch.

JJ looks to you, and then to the figures making their way up to the drive, unsure what to make of the situation.

A smug smirk plants itself upon Rafe’s face as he makes his way through the lawn, and his dark cold eyes spot you.

“Y/N, I thought you might be here” Rafe says, him and Sophia walking up the porch steps, her arm clung around Rafes bicep like a trophy wife.

Although you were good friends with Sarah, your relationship with her was a complete contrast to the dynamic you had with Rafe. Unlike many other of the brainwashed kooks, you saw him for what he was, which was a dickhead.

“And I was hoping you wouldn’t be” you say, a sickly sarcastic smile spread across your face.

The scene before him put JJ on edge. He knew Rafe was a loose cannon, and thanks to the intel you told him when you were both locked in a cell, he now knew Sofia was no different. At the same time, watching your fiery personality fight back at them was drawing you to him like a moth to a flame.

“Your hanging out with the help now? That’s low, even for you” Sofia tuts.

You notice the way JJ’s jaw clenches at the insult, and your blood starts to boil.

“One more word and I’ll break your face again” you say, your words stern as your eyes turn cold.

Sophia tried to look tough as she gives a light chuckle as a reply, but everyone could see how nervous she actually was. She was practically clinging onto Rafe for dear life. Rafe noticed this, and decided to take matters into his own hands.

Before you could even register what was happening, Rafe let go of Sophia, grabbing your throat and pinning you against the front wall of the house, the cold metal of his rings digging into your neck. Usually, you would love the feeling of a hand wrapped around your throat, but this was a lot different.

“Not so bitchy now, are you?” He says, his smirk never faltering. You could tell he was truly enjoying this.

JJ tried to lunge at Rafe, but was held back by topper, who now had him in a headlock. You sent him a pleading look, as you mentally asked him not to do something stupid.

There was no need for a reply as you spit in Rafe’s face, a small smile plastered on your lips as you watch his jaw clench, his free hand coming up to wipe his face.

Your eyes widen as you watch Rafe lift his hand, ready to strike you. You shut your eyes as you brace yourself for the impact, but it never came.

JJ managed to get loose by kicking topper in the crotch, and he lunges straight at Rafe, pulling you off him and sending him to the floor. He throws punch after punch, only being hit once before he’s being dragged off by some random people. Rafes face is practically black and blue by the time he’s done with him.

“Think it’s ok to beat women you piece of shit?” JJ shouts, as he’s being dragged away inside the house.

You pay Rafe no attention as you follow JJ inside. Eventually, he calms down and agrees to let you clean him up in the bathroom. Although he only got hit once, it caused his cheek to bleed, probably from Rafe’s ring.

You gesture for him to take a seat on the counter before you pick up some tissue, running it under cold water before taking a place between his legs. It wasn’t exactly a first aid kit, but it will do. The boy winces as you wipe the tissue over his cheek, and you bring your other hand up to lightly cup his chin.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know” you say, breaking the silence.

Your eyes meet his in a dazed haze, and you stroke his chin with your thumb lightly as a gesture of comfort.

“I don’t like bullies, least of all those who hurt women. We both know he deserved it” he says.

You can see the pain in his eyes, and your insides twist in the worst way possible. You knew JJ came from a broken home, and you wondered if his mum ever had to endure the same things he did. You felt nauseous at the thought.

“I know, but-“

“No buts. Your crazy if you think I’m ganna let him touch you like that” he says, letting his hands rest comfortably at your waist.

Your eyebrows raise into a suggestive arch as a small smile creeps up onto your face.

“What?” He says.

“Nothing” you respond, focusing your attention back on his cut, bringing the tissue up to his check once again.

JJ grabs your arm, stopping your movements and forcing you to turn your focus back to the conversation.

“What?” He says sternly, although his expression is somewhat playful.

“You care about me” you say, biting your lip to hide your smile. It was so hard for you to hide your emotions around him.

You would of been upset at his lack of reply if you didn’t notice the way his stare moved from your eyes down to your lips, and then back up to meet your gaze again. His pupils were so dilated you had to question wether he was on drugs or not.

JJ let’s go of your arm, bringing his hands up to cup your soft cheeks. His lust filled eyes were making you dizzy as he ran one of his thumbs over your plump lips.

Without thinking, he shoves his thumb into your mouth, and you welcome it, swirling your tongue around as you maintain eye contact with him.

“Fuck” the blonde says, growing flustered at the sight before him. Everything you did drove him crazy, and he hated it.

He retracts his thumb, pulling you towards him so your bodies are pressed together, before he finally smashes his lips onto yours. Your hands find solace in his hair as you tug at the blonde locks, making JJ groan into your mouth. The burning ache between your thighs was starting to become too much.

JJ breaks the kiss, jumping off the bathroom counter and spinning you around, so you swapped places with him. He grabs your thighs, giving them a rough squeeze before lifting you up onto the surface, finding his place in between your legs.

Before your lips could reconnect, though, the bathroom door swings open, revealing none other than Kie.

“JJ! Are you-“ she starts, her jaw practically on the floor as she pauses at the sight in front of her.

“What the fuck?”

___________________________________________

Tags: @pagesfalling @dreamingwithrafe @drewsandsebastianswife @princessbl0ss0m @loverofdrewstarkey @partoftoofuckinmanyfandoms @ibleedcalories

[karlachismylife]

Okay but imagine this: if task force 141 get thrown into Faerûn just as they are (i dunno, a portal opens up during a mission for neutralizing a huge dnd cultist-terrorist organization, whatever), with their ammunition, gear, guns etc. They quickly realize that the guns are kinda useless, because there is no way to supply them with bullets etc and then again, the fuck is your rifle gonna do against a literal fireball or a revived skeleton. But they can't just drop them, because who knows who's gonna find them and do what; but if they keep carrying those around, maybe they'll find a way to adapt their firearms to the new reality. And finally, they are still hoping to get back home... at least in the beginning.

And this is how Soap's sniper rifle becomes just a fancy toy. He still takes care of it, but there's no point in using it... until he catches Karlach's curious look while he's busying his hands (fella gotta fidget) with cleaning up this intimidating (at least it was) weapon. Karlach knows a good weapon when she sees one even if she has never seen anything like this before; she's both fought barehanded and seen how far mechanics can go in terms of ways to kill someone. And this polished beauty with a ton of little interesting details in construction is definitely a good weapon.

Soap is beaming when Karlach asks to show and explain how it works. He goes over the whole mechanism, gives her a three hours speech about different types of firearms, nearly starts a chemistry lesson on gunpowder and draws schemes with a stick on the ground to explain all the physics of a good shot. He wouldn't even notice if Karlach dozed off in the middle of this tirade. But Karlach surprises everyone, including herself, by staying extra attentive this whole time. Her head might hurt a little from trying to stuff all this information inside at once, but she senses Johnny's passion about the subject and it's contagious.

And then Soap asks her, giving her a heavy friendly slap on the shoulder: "Wanntae have a go?"

"Aye, soldier, don't have to ask me twice!" Karlach's already picked up a little of his accent and it earns her a cheeky smile from Soap, but what really makes him beam and jump to his feet immediately with his rifle in hand is that she's ecstatic to go and try shooting this thing.

They move a little away from camp so that they won't startle anyone there or draw unnecessary attention to the location and choose a target, a fallen tree trunk on one side of a large clearing. Soap gets into position and that pretty shiny thing in his arms goes boom, slicing a teeny tiny branch that was sticking out on the trunk clean off.

Karlach is hot with excitement, buzzing while Johnny explains her how to get into the right shooting position and what needs extra attenion when making a shot. He shoots one or two more times before her impatience gets to him and he scoots to the side, offering her a place behind the gun. Karlach copies his pose as best as she can, a good straight line and not much leaning forward. She is a soldier, a good one, she can follow instructions and handle the recoil, but what hurts her performance is... that same impatience. That beautiful SP-X 80 goes off in her hands almost immediately and although Karlach doesn't miss that poor tree entirely, the bullet lands nowhere near the spot Soap pointed out as target. Aww, dammit, soldier.

Soap doesn't seem upset in the slightest though (if anything, he is trying to keep his eyes off her ass, presented to him like a birthday cake). He just moves closer again and adjusts Karlach's grip on the handle, keeping his hands on her and using this lesson as a shameless excuse to get his paws all over the excited tiefling while he makes her calm down her breathing and watch that little cross in them complex optics.

"Close yer een, bonnie, take a couple breaths... aye, just like tha'. Is the reticle still on target? Good, now breathe out again 'n' when ye get that wee pause in yer body… shoot."

Maybe it's not entirely fair for him to ask Karlach to breathe normally when his calloused hand is right there on her back, touching her (touching her!) under the excuse of showing that lowest point in breathing when the trigger should be pulled. But they are not in a competition and good for her: despite following instructions to a t she can't seem to master it. She doesn't miss every single attempt, but her aim is clearly off. Her tail gives away her disappointment in shots landing slightly off target and coils around Johnny's ankle as he crouches next to Karlach laid out there in a proper prone position and watches her with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

When the last bullet they took with them shatters dead wood almost, almost right where she wanted, Karlach sighs and rolls on her side, quickly noticing how cozy her tail got with Soap's leg and untangling it as if nothing happened.

"Dinnae worrie, soldier, aim gets better wi' practice." Karlach earns another friendly slap on her shoulder and the faintest frown that hid in her brows immediately goes away, replaced by a toothy grin.

"Practice, eh, mate?" She repeats, and Johnny already knows she's got something on her mind. "Wanna go throw axes then?"