#also being 6ft helps

[1eos]

@zzznap

amnesia challenge with &team yuma

[hischierlin]

accidentally yours ｡･ﾟﾟ･ quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again, i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end

update: very emotional about all the likes and sharings here, i can't say thank you enough it really means the world to me 🧡🧡🧡 love you all!!!!

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratching on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.1k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

You couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, you're lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously low, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled followed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now, is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. What you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking.

Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours.

Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping your smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine, crossing your arms and biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too, didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"We just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, not that they would change your mind anyway, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head."

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. "Getting out out his head", with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget for the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she chattered, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him either. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to, except for him.

A moment, a pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected too, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

It wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, already figuring him out which no one did better than you, telling you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm, "Can you at least pretend to fall for it?, just for it to get stuck in his throat when you answered.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with, just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back, recognizing it immediately, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he should know already, but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, turning away in his seat.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", he still vacillated about it all and ignored the "H" making it sound like a witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was just Jack and Luke.

Right?

Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers and he wouldn't change that for the world now. It was clearly a big misunderstanding.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversations, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes."

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind.

Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches, but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something? Because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together, thinking hard with her eyes narrowing the slightest looking at you.

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighing as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Still”, she rambled on, not getting the memo, "kinda sounded familiar..."

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you weren't even a part of it. You leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though."

There’s no need for that.

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, made you wonder if he would notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really, but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away.

How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here.

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it, and through the faint hid of a smirk tugging at his mouth corner.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers flexed around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he paused, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being helpful and humanity personified, or because of the simple fact that he was your emergency contact. And that's what they are for.

Yet, you needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no, it's not like it would’ve changed anything."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them. You felt his next sigh in your bones.

"What do you want me to say?", and you swallowed hard over the slight clip in his tone, "You're the one who put my name down I had no idea of, and they told me you were on your way to bolt out of here with a concussion. What did you expect me to do?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

He hinted at more, waiting for you to give it to him when you answered with an abruptness yourself, "Makes two of us."

"But you could've guessed from the call alone that it was a mix-up."

"Who jokes about that?"

Probably the universe and whatever intention it had planned out for you tonight, but you still tried to resist, just like you resisted the urge to meet his gaze, your eyes fixating somewhere beyond his right arm.

"Let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time, and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved" typing it into the console, it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

[haoetoile]

sweet revenge - jeon wonwoo

word count: 2,830

genre: smut, serial killer!au, non-idol!au and dark contents

pairing: stalker, serial killer!wonwoo x fem!reader

a/n: i really enjoy reading dark romances and darker fanfics, so i decided to take my first try onto this kind of writing!! this was kind of inspired by haunting adeline (more specifically, the mirror maze scene, ifykyk) and some other books, and i really hope this is not as shitty as it looks for me. btw, it wasn't revised, so lmk if there are any mistakes and i hope you guys enjoy it <3

contains: you messed with wonwoo's sweet revenge, now he has to make a plan to get rid of you as soon as possible. triggers: stalking, mentions to killing, wonwoo is a serial killer and slightly obsessed with reader. smut contains: voyeurism, big cock!wonwoo, names (doll, slut, pretty girl), fingering, oral (m. receiving), public sex,, creampie, and filthy language, slight dumbification if you squint (?). if i missed any warnings, please let me know!

it's been a while since wonwoo first laid his eyes on you; a pretty, smart and kind of naive college student. you two attended the same college, so you'd see him often around the hallways even though you two never actually talked

you were surely really pretty, but that was it. he might've just stared at you once or twice, but there was nothing more about it. well, at least not until you became a pain on his neck

one day, coming back from getting the groceries, you came across a gruesome scene in one of the dark alleys from your block. a tall man, wearing all black, covered by a cap, a mask and a hoodie, carried a corpse. you wanted to scream, but you got paralyzed instead, he remained unaffected by your presence, not considering the possibility of you reporting him - after all, it wasn't like you could see his face or anything that would make him recognizable

or maybe he thought so. until now, all of his murders had been considered just isolate cases, no one suspected a thing or who could've done this, but when he saw that murder, the one you had witnessed, being announced on tv, and theories surrounding it that linked that murder with the other ones, - after all, the victims all had a pattern: rich politicians who approved a specific project for planning a new area in changwon - his blood boiled. wonwoo just couldn't understand how could you be such a pesky little thing and ruin his plans on being unnoticed

well, he had to think about something. he had to do something. he couldn't just let a random college girl interrupt his sweet, sweet revenge, and neither the cops. so that's why he started stalking you

he wasn't counting on the fact he would start feeling something other than hatred bubbling inside him whenever he'd think about you, he never thought he'd start desiring you. but at the end of the day, it'd be just the best of both worlds for him - he'd have his way with a hot girl, kill her and get his revenge, and would also mislead the cops onto thinking about the changwon incident; the one that made him an orphan

once again, he stood in the shadows, covered by some big trees that were perfect to hide his strong, 6ft frame. your neighborhood wasn't crowded so it was even better, as no one would notice his present around as he looked up into your window. you looked so perfect, so pretty dolling yourself up to sleep, your pretty silk nightgown left little to imagination, and he loved every single detail of it

it was one of those nights, your parents weren't at home, and you were feeling yourself, so it wasn't long before he caught you on your bed, legs spread out as a small bullet vibrador teased your delicate folds. your brows were furrowed in pleasure, and when you pushed your pink lacy panties to the side, he couldn't help but start rubbing his hand in the front of his black jeans, wondering if you'd have this same expressions if it was him who was pushing those cute panties to the side, if if was his fingers that were teasing you

you started fucking yourself with the small object, letting out the sweetest moans wonwoo ever heard, and it wasn't long before he gave in to his desires once again, pulling out his length from its confine, his gaze still burning on your delicate figure

he watched as your rhythm gradually increase, your moans getting more frantic by each passing moment, as his thumb gently grazed along the slit of his cock, making his entire body jolt with pleasure. his hand tightened the grip on the shaft, as his mind wandered once again to how tight and wet your cunt would feel it he was the one fucking you, making sure to ruin you and leave you too dumb to even be able to run away from him once he's had his way with you

once you had your orgasm, wonwoo couldn't help but feel his balls getting tighter, soon enough blowing out his load all over his hand, his mind making up the decision he had to do something soon. very, very soon

[...]

finally halloween night, the perfect day for wonwoo to be able to execute his plan. your friends had invited you for a halloween party, and you were surely excited to go, even if it was in a more dangerous side of the city – to them, actually, it was even more appealing as it fitted the vibe perfectly

the party's location actually would be even more helpful for wonwoo's plans, as it'd be hosted at an abandoned mansion that was placed on an also abandoned neighborhood, surrounded by a forest. wonwoo wouldn't need much to make you disappear just like he had planned, that place was literally the best trap ever so he could get his sweet, sweet revenge on you for disturbing his plans

you felt a shiver down your spine as soon as your friend's car parked near the party's location, as if your body could sense some kind of danger, but you brushed it off, thinking it might've been just because of the mansion's atmosphere. but it wasn't

the sensation was only getting worse as you tried to enjoy the party as much as your friends were, the sense of unease and something more, as if someone was watching you, wouldn't go away. it was making you anxious, you felt like you needed to run away, like there was actually danger, but you kept quiet, you didn't wanted to ruin your friend's night at all and you also needed to go out for a bit

[...]

you fixed the black leotard and the bunny ears a last time before leaving the bathroom, ready to find your friends once again in the crowded room. just as you were passing by, you felt the same sense of unease again, of being watched, a shiver running along your spine, but no one seemed to be around. you thought you were going crazy

except for the fact you weren't. wonwoo followed you around the party all the time, taking in your appearance as you wore a ravishing playboy bunny costume, your ass barely covered by the short shorts you chose not to be half-naked in just that tight leotard, so tight wonwoo couldn't help but stare at the shape of your gorgeous tits and how they'd felt with his lips around it — it wasn't like he wouldn't get some fun with a pretty thing like you before making his plans work perfectly

you couldn't find your friends, so you grabbed a bit of a watermelon vodka drink that was being served and went all the way to the backyard, where a few people seemed to be smoking and others making out. a tall, handsome man dressed as joker approached you, well, it wasn't exactly a costume, as he only had a mask on and a suit, but you recognized the character anyway

"what's a pretty thing like you doing here, all alone?" his deep voice sent tingles all over your body "it's kind of dangerous to be here by yourself... haven't you heard the rumors that this mansion's abandoned, kitten?"

"i was just looking for my friends, but they're nowhere to be found, so i just came here for some fresh air" you answered, as oblivious as you were to his true intentions. wonwoo chuckled softly at your answer, loving the way his plan was going as smooth as it could, and he decided to take off his mask

the sight of his handsome appearance without the mask made you softly gasp, — fact that he pretended not to notice, but definitely did — he was extremely hot and totally your type, as if he came straight out one of your dreams

"mind if i keep you company, then?" he asked, and you shook your head while watched him light up a cigarette "want one?"

"no thanks, i don't smoke" you answered, watching him take off a long drag. for some reason, it was insanely hot to watch this

"so, what's your name, pretty girl?" god, the way the nickname rolled out of his tongue made something inside you flip completely

"____. and you are...?" you waited for his answer

"call me wonwoo, sweetheart"

[...]

you didn't knew how, maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe something entirely his, but you were completely drawn to wonwoo. sure, he was tall, handsome and from the brief conversations you two had, you could already tell he was insanely intelligent, but you still weren't sure why something about him had you longing for me

you weren't sure either on how or why did you started dancing with him, or let him lead you to the very same woods you'd found eerie earlier that day so you two could made out. yet, it felt so right to have those lips pressed against yours, to have his tongue hitting all the right spots inside your mouth and leave you whimpering against his and your cunt throbbing for more

his lips moved all the way down to your neck, savoring the sweet taste of your skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses there that made you gasp in such a cute way, that wonwoo thought he could get a boner with just that. you, on the other hand, could already feel moisture pooling down your core in a way that made your panties stick to your skin uncomfortably

"okay, doll. want to be a good girl for me, yeah?" he breathe out against your neck, and you whimpered at the contact of his hot breath against your already sensitive skin, nodding instantly. the sight of you being so submissive and eager to please him made wonwoo harden immediately "that's what i've thought... why don't you star by being a good girl and getting on your knees for me?"

you were more than happy to oblige it, dropping to your knees on the spot, not caring more about the eerie environment or the fact you two were out there in public. you saw him undo his belt, and a shiver ran down your spine as you imagined how big his cock must be — you just knew it was big

after you helped him undo his buttons and free himself from its confines, you saw his hardened cock stand tall and proud, ready for your attention. you gulped, not expecting it to be as big as it really was, but you leaned in eagerly anyway, ready to please wonwoo

you wrapped your lips against his tip, savoring the bittersweet taste on your lips, and he groaned at the sensation, hands flying instantly to your hair, dropping your bunny ears on the process. the contact of his hands with your hair made you bolder, as you bobbed your head more, relaxing your throat so you could accommodate more of his length inside your mouth

"fuck, what a good little mouth" he let out a deep moan, and you felt more moisture pool down your legs at the sound of his voice

you got bolder in your movements, bobbing your head all the way down, using your hands to pleasure him, and going all you could to make him feel as good as possible. wonwoo was loving you eager you were to please him, and it only made him hornier, thinking about how pathetic, and yet, still hot, you were like this

it wasn't long until he came inside your mouth, releasing his hot, thick seed right down your throat. he watched you gag and struggle a bit to swallow. he dressed up again, watching you look at him with doe eyes, ready to do whatever he wanted next, and the sight alone was enough to make him horny again

"doll, can you get up for me?" he watched as you eagerly got on your feet again, already waiting for his next command "such a good girl" he purred, getting closer and closer, making your back press against a tree

he shoved a hand inside your short shorts. wonwoo's skilled fingers were fast enough to pull your leotard and panties to the side, a groan escaping his mouth once he found you already wet and ready for him

"got this wet for me just from sucking cock, hm? such a nasty little girl" he tsked, smirking mockingly. you opened your legs a bit more, wanting more contact "look at you, already demanding for more..."

"wonwoo, please" you whimpered. his middle finger rubbed through your folds until they stopped at your sensitive hole, slipping just a bit to gather your juices, smearing it all over your nether lips teasingly

you mewled, and earned a dark chuckle from the tall man in front of you, who decided to do it again before finally stopping at your clit, drawing figures of eight slowly, just to get you worked up

"you're really a slut, huh? getting off on fucking in public like this, knowing anyone could pass by these woods and see you letting a barely unknown man finger your juicy cunt like this" he teased you, leaning in just to bite and suck a certain spot on your neck that made your toes curl

suddenly, two fingers entered your cunt, and you were not able to surpass the loud moan that escaped your lips. luckily, there was no one around to hear it, but the possibility of being seen made your cunt throb in a way that was definitely noticed by wonwoo

"what was that, doll? do you like being fucked in public like that?" he teased, pumping his fingers faster. you were already so lost in pleasure, that you didn't even heard him, too worked up on his fingers

wonwoo was determined in making you come undone, scissoring them, thrusting them upwards to find your g-spot, rubbing his thumb over your clit, all he could to get you off as soon as possible. your moans were getting more and more erratic by each passing second, your thighs were quivering, and your hips were moving on their own now. you were too close to snap

with a sudden thrust from his fingers, the coil on your stomach snapped, the feeling got unbearable, and you let go to the sensation. wonwoo let you ride down your orgasm until its very last wave before pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth to taste your juices

"you taste like fucking candy" he groaned, getting closer so he could connect your lips to his again. you could taste your own essence inside his mouth, but you were still too horny to care about it

he shoved your shorts down and quickly ripped your leotard and panties to get them out of the way, and then took his own length out its confines again before finally plunging it into you without a warning

fuck, he made you feel so full. his cock was hitting all the right spots inside you, caressing your cervix in a way that was certainly too much but you couldn't help but want more. the sensation alone made you moan desperately

one of his hands grabbed your hips with a bruising strength, while the other roamed over your body, as if it was memorizing its shape. when they finally found one of your breasts, he squeezed it hard while thrusting harder and faster, determined on making you as cockdrunk as possible

god, you looked so stupid on his cock already that he could just kill you if he wanted to. but he didn't wanted to waste the opportunity to fuck this sweet, juicy cunt and to hear those delicious moans

his hips slammed against yours even faster, the wet, lewd sounds you two were producing were echoing through the deserted woods, along the sounds of your needy moan and whimpers and his deep moans and groans. his tip was constantly hitting your g-spot again in a bruising pace, making you see stars — wonwoo was definitely too much

"fuck, such a tight little cunt." he groaned "been waiting for too long to fuck you"

you felt like cumming already, but you tried to hold your own orgasm so you could wait for him as well

"such a good pussy for me" he moaned

you could feel his cock throb inside you and knew he wouldn't last longer, but so do you. so when the sensation became unbearable again, you just let it go, cumming all over his cock again. the way your cunt squeezed him made wonwoo cum as well, shooting his load inside you

he looked at your disheveled form in awe, and suddenly, an idea came into his own mind. maybe killing you wasn't the best he could do to plan his own revenge... instead, he could make you all his

[captain-huggy-bear]

Guard Dog

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for the Washington Capitals game (Jan 2025), anger/conflict, derogatory commentary towards Reader

Summary: You are feeling particularly protective of Quinn after the game against the Washington Capitals and run into Dubois.

Notes: I was ready to throw hands at Dubois for purposefully seeking out and trying to hurt Quinn so...

Apologies to Dubois but he's now my arch nemesis and if I was actually dating Quinn I know I'd hold a grudge, sorry, I'm sure you're a great guy but...not today. Reminder that I am writing a fictional version of these people and what I do write is not representative of them in real life. Don't sue me, Dubois, this is fictional you, not real you. 👀

Also I don't think Quinn is generally violent or aggressive but I do think that if he felt someone he loved was being treated in a way that was disrespectful/aggressive, that he wouldn't avoid conflict. Protective boy in my eyes.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You wanted to say that you were used to watching how violent hockey could get, especially when that violence was directed at Quinn, but that would be a lie.

Watching as Quinn was practically attacked by Dubois, watching him be targeted had you gasping and jumping to your feet in an instant. The way he knocked Quinn to the ground had your heart thudding in your chest and you'd gotten to your feet instinctively like you could physically go out and defend him, like you had any ability to do something when in reality you were completely helpless, stuck behind glass.

That intense feeling of protectiveness had only increased as Quinn was pulled from the scrum by Dubois again like he was being hunted down, targeted. It grew almost unbearable, a protectiveness mixed with anger, as you watched Quinn try to keep his distance, shoving away from Dubois even as he tried to hold him close, as Quinn tried to protect himself while avoiding roughing himself, only to receive a penalty anyway. That anger grew watching the way Quinn was stuck in the penalty box, the way he was desperate, standing, wanting to get out after his 2 minutes, only to be stuck because play was ongoing for another 3 minutes.

You had never hated a player before. Players had upset you in the past, annoyance at the way they'd dealt with something or how they'd behaved towards Quinn, but you'd never seen someone so determined to hurt your boyfriend. It was that sheer targeting, the way Dubois followed Quinn, gunned for him for no reason, especially given he was still sporting a hand injury, that had you hating him immediately. It had you itching to say something, do something for the entirety of the game. You could barely concentrate on the actual game, too amped.

You couldn't help the way your leg bounced angrily the entire game, the way you bit your lip, the way your mind ran through all the things you'd like to say to Dubois about his behaviour. That feeling didn't disappear as the game ended and you waited outside the locker room for Quinn, if anything it grew from how hard you tried to suppress it. You felt a little like a ticking time bomb.

That anger boiled over the moment you saw Dubois coming down the corridor towards you after the game. Dubois was freshly washed and changed, laughing with his teammate, Roy, like he hadn't been trying to hurt your boyfriend for half the game. You tried to keep your comments to yourself, but couldn't keep the angry glare, the deep scowl, from your features as you leant against the wall, arms crossed. You knew you were giving him the evils, that if looks could kill he'd have died five times over, but you couldn't force your face into neutrality, not when you felt that buzz of anger in your chest. It was dangerous for him to target Quinn like that, it was unfair, it made you wish you were 6ft 8 and built like a brick shit house so at least you could throw a punch in Quinn's honour. Instead you had been absolutely helpless, unable to do anything but watch.

You heard it muttered, whispered, an exchange of 'what's her problem?' and 'that's Hughes' girl...', that had you almost vibrating with anger. Dubois should have left you well enough alone, should have read the room and let you cool down. He shouldn't have assumed he could mess with you in that moment. But, since when have hockey players ever missed a chance to chirp?

You watch him stride up to you, a glint in his eyes that spelled trouble and only served to push more adrenaline through your body.

"You got a problem with me?"

"Walk away." Your voice is clipped, short, an attempt to maintain a sense of decorum, to control your anger because the last thing you want is to embarrass Quinn by getting into a fight with a rival hockey player on the same night his team lost a game. The last thing you want to do is make matters worse and in the words of Marie from Aristocats 'ladies don't start fights'.

"Or what? You going to cry cause I grabbed your little boyfriend?" His sneer reminds you of every bully you've ever known your entire life. Brutish, stupid, and with a deep desire for power and control, the sort of desire that causes them to be nasty, be mean, to try to hurt people because it shows that they can. It only makes it harder for you to control your feelings, nails digging into the palms of your hands as you clench your fists tight, like that will help keep you back.

"I'm telling you to walk away because I will not be responsible for what I say or do if you don't. Walk away." It was probably comical to him, the way you stepped forward and squared off with him, a man well over 6ft tall. You were relatively small in comparison. It didn't matter to you though, all that mattered was the fact he'd gunned for Quinn, for your lovely, kind boyfriend who avoided fights at all costs and tried to always be a reasonable, decent player. Your boyfriend who tried to play clean. Your boyfriend who was still injured. Your boyfriend who was under an insane amount of pressure right now. Your boyfriend who had only just come back off of rest for his injury.

"You've got some balls on you, lady, more than Hughes does at any rate."

You're certain your eye twitches, certain you're one bite away from causes your bottom lip to bleed. Certain that you've dug half moon circles into your palms. Certain that murder doesn't seem quite that bad of a crime right now and that you could survive prison.

"Walk. Away. Now."

"So you're the man in your relationship, huh? Is Hughes your pretty princess?" It's the hateful, misogynistic attempt to demean Quinn that causes you to snap. It's his refusal to just walk away, the goading, the pushing, the way he steps closer into your personal space, leers over you in an attempt to intimidate you with his size that finally does it. But, he doesn't seem to realise that you're too angry to be intimidated, you're not really thinking about yourself, about the situation, about the fact he's twice your size. So it doesn't matter that he could break you if he wanted to. It doesn't matter that he should be scary. He's not in that moment, because you're simply too angry, vibrating with rage.

"You're a vile, disgusting human being,y'know that? He's still injured, you fucking knew that and fucking went for him? What the fuck did he do to you? You trip him, you gun for him, you then try to pull him from the scrum?! What the fuck is wrong with you?" You could each infraction off on your fingers as you move into his space and push the two of you further into the centre of the corridor.

Maybe it's how loud you are or maybe it was just good timing, but Quinn and Boeser step out of the locker room just in time to see you yelling in Dubois' face, to see the grin on his lips like he's enjoying it. It's honest to god fear, mixed with a protectiveness that he always feels for you, that has Quinn practically sprinting the short distance to you.

He's pretty sure you don't realise you're shaking with anger or how close you've gotten to Dubois, practically nose to nose, leaning up while he leans down, until his arms are wrapping around you and pulling you back against his chest. Even in his arms you're shaking with adrenaline, eyes fixated on Dubois like a look is enough to put him in the ground.

Dubois' eyes shift to him, and Quinn can't help the set of his own features, the stern glare that he directs to the other man even as he's smirking back at him. If anything the way he seems to be enjoying this makes Quinn's expression sterner.

"Keep your little plaything on a fucking leash, Hughes." The grin Dubois sends his way is toothy, predatory, the sort of grin that tells Quinn he knows what he's saying and he knows what reaction it'll get. It doesn't stop Quinn's shoulders from tensing, it doesn't stop the tightness in his chest and it certainly doesn't make it easier for him to keep his usually cool head.

"What did you just say?" It's almost whispered, low, quiet, and it makes you stop shaking in Quinn's arms because there's something deadly about it, something that tells you not to push him right now even when you're not the one it's directed at. Something that makes you still in surprise.

"I said keep your little plaything on a fucking leash."

There's a prolonged pause, one in which Quinn looks back behind him, eyes finding Boeser, a silent sort of conversation happening between them, an agreement reached.

"Brock?"

"I got her." The blonde man steps forward as Quinn turns you in his arms and pushes you gently to Brock, Boeser pulling you into his own arms and away from the other two men.

"Quinn?" You're not sure what's happening other than the fact that the fear is starting to set in. All that anger, the adrenaline that had kept you so focused on Dubois, had started to fade. It left behind a shaky sort of anxiety, as reality hit you, that this was not just a simple argument anymore.

You gasp and move back into Boeser as you watch Quinn turn back to Dubois and just as suddenly grab him by the collar of his suit jacket, slamming him back against the wall. While Quinn is shorter, he's certainly not small or weak by any stretch of the imagination and Dubois doesn't expect it as he's shoved full body into the wall behind him, his feet struggling to keep up with the harsh movement backwards.

Quinn is nose to nose with him, glaring up at him with a look you can only describe as murderous, "You ever talk about her like that again and I will break your fucking nose. You don't ever talk to her or about her like that. Do you hear me?" The interesting thing about it, is how Quinn doesn't have to yell. In fact, his voice low, but it's the edge to it, the way it feels sharp enough to cut that makes his feelings clear.

"Oh? Now you think you're a big man, what you gonna do with that hand of yours?" Dubois' eyes shift to the brace on Quinn's left hand, the one that you can see trembling under it's own grip. It upsets you, that he's hurting himself for you, that you started this, as much as part of you preens under his protection.

"My right hand is just fine, Dubois. Yours won't be if you don't back the fuck down." Maybe it's the way Quinn's eyes narrow. Maybe it's the way his teeth grind together. Maybe it's the way he shoves Dubois even harder into the wall or maybe it's something else entirely, but something seems to make Dubois realise that Quinn is serious. That Quinn has every intention of fighting for you if he has to, if the disrespect is not corrected, if Dubois doesn't back down.

Maybe Dubois simply doesn't care enough or maybe he's intimidated by Quinn because he mutters, "Whatever...", hands shoving Quinn's away from his collar, one last glare exchanged before he and Roy walk away, whispering the entire time.

You're practically shaking in Brock's arms, Brock who releases you gently once Dubois and Roy walk away, Brock who backs away to the locker room with one last look to Quinn, leaving the two of you by yourselves.

Quinn's shoulders drop, relax as he watches the two men turn the corner and disappear out of sight, before green eyes shift to you, features softening into something affectionate and gentle. A stark contrast with his expression mere moments before.

He's the one who reaches for you, stepping until he's in your personal space, hands resting on the sides of your face like he thinks you might physically be hurt.

"You okay?" His voice is soft, sweet, as his thumbs brush your cheeks, green eyes darting over your features, trying to assess how you are and if he needs to chase after Dubois and teach him a lesson or two.

Quinn will openly admit he's not a fighter nor does he want to be, but the strong surge of protectiveness in him overrides his usual aversion to violence. He'd fight anyone for you, if it meant you were respected, protected, safe. He doesn't care that Dubois gunned for him out on the ice, all he cares about is the way he got into your face out in the corridor.

"Am I okay? Are you okay? He almost took you out on the ice!" Even as you say it your voice is shaky. Quinn knows you better than he knows most people, he can hear that shake a mile off, knows that that shake is a sign you're not okay, that that shake usually comes before a break.

It's why he doesn't answer you, it's why he pulls you fully into his arms, wrapping them around you until you're chest to chest.

So he asks again, "Baby, are you okay?" Only to feel the way your body starts to shake aggressively in his arms, like your body has just caught up to the situation, like the adrenaline has fully left your system, leaving only the after effects.

His voice is soft as he mutters to you, "Oh, you really worked off instinct, huh? Just now realising you nearly fought a 6ft 2 hockey player for me?" Quinn's quick to pull you tighter against him, a full body crush, rocking you side to side as his cheek presses into your hair. His hands rub up and down your back, attempting to sooth you as the reality of it all fully kicks. As you realise how stupid it was of you to do that, how scary the situation actually was, how you should have just walked away.

"Fuck...did I just really do that?" Your voice is shaky, almost wet, like you might start crying.

"Uh huh...yeah, you did, baby." His voice is almost amused, sympathetic, now the worst of it is over Quinn can't help but find your actions endearing. The way that you, of all people, decided you'd go toe to toe with a massive hockey player on his behalf.

"Fuck." You press your forehead against his chest, letting out a shaky breath as he rocks you from side to side. You don't regret it, not really. You'd defend Quinn to the death, you love him and that meant protecting him, just like he'd protect you. But, you have to admit, it wasn't perhaps your smartest idea or your finest moment.

"It was kind of hot, baby, but please don't do that again. I nearly had a heart attack seeing you nose to nose with him." Quinn's actually certain his heart stopped when he walked out of the locker room. You'd seemed so...fragile in comparison to Dubois and while he knew you, knew you weren't weak, it had scared him. The idea of you getting hurt was one of his nightmares, even more so you getting hurt because of him.

You pull back as far as he'll let you which really isn't very far, tilting your head back to look at him, "You nearly fought him for me..." your voice is almost disbelieving like you can't understand why he'd step in like that for you, his girlfriend.

"Yeah, I did.." Quinn's smile is soft, loving, eyes crinkling at the corners as you practically gape at him.

"But you don't fight." You look so confused that it almost breaks his heart because who taught you that you were unworthy of protection, who taught you that the people who love you wouldn't step in when needed?

"I'd fight for you. Any day. Any week. Any time. I'll always fight for you, baby. You're my girl." He says it like it's just a fact of life. Like 2 +2 = 4 or that water is wet. He says it like it is the most natural thing to exist.

"But...you don't like to fight." He hates fighting, you know because whenever he gets in one on the ice or has to break one up, he complains when he gets home. You know because everything about Quinn is gentle and soft, always slow to anger and quick to find a diplomatic solution.

"Yeah, I know." Quinn smiles at you amused, "But I love you and if the choice is between protecting you or not fighting, I'm always going to pick you. That's what you do when you love someone. You'd protect me, right?"

"Of course." You don't even hesitate because it's like breathing, that instinct to look after him because you love him because he's your person.

"Then there's your answer, sweet girl" He watches the way you nod like it is starting click, like it makes sense. His hands brush cross your shoulders, tugging you into his side, twisting so his arm is slung over your shoulders. Your shaking has long since stopped and whatever anger both of you felt has since faded under the sweetness of realising you're both loved, both protected.

"You wanna go back to the hotel? Enough excitement for one night, huh?"

"Mmm, yeah...You're okay though, right? Your hand?" You shift under his arm, eyes looking to his left hand and the brace there, watch the way he flexes his fingers as if to remind himself he can.

"I'm okay, baby, especially knowing I have you to fight my battles for me." Quinn kisses the crown of your head, the scent of your shampoo filling his nose as he pulls you tighter to his side.

In that moment the hotel room sounds great, home would sound even better, but you think home might actually just be Quinn and wherever he is.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Met His Match. || Soap MacTavish (Collab)

A collab with @crashtestbunny.

Find us on AO3!

Words: 3.5K~ Pairing: Sex Fiend!Reader x One Night Stand!Soap CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut smut smut, dubcon elements, unprotected piv, oral sex (f!receiving), public handjob (m!receiving), overstimulation, bathroom sex, sadism, dom/sub, rough sex, sub John "Soap" MacTavish, forced ejaculation, semi-public sex, whining, light exhibitionism, power play, dry orgasm. other tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, dating app, hook-up, one night stand, mean reader, exhaustion, walk of shame summary: Johnny gets fucked. a/n: Inspired loosely by my "It's a Match!" fic... but so much fucking worse. P.S. Not beta-read, we die like soap.

Friday night. 6 PM.

You just got home from work and after making yourself a quick meal, you threw yourself on the couch.

Reaching for your phone you click on the Tinder icon on your home screen and immediately begin swiping away at the men that come across your screen.

You're not being too picky. Still a bit picky, but not too much. It doesn't matter that much what they look like... so much as what you feel once you see their picture.

You're not on this app for the romance, after all. No.

You're tired and frustrated from your week and all you want is to fuck a man. In fact, you want to fuck a man so hard he leaves your flat in the morning looking (and feeling) like a cheap whore.

You'll know what kind of man you're in the mood for when you see him.

Left.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

That's when a man with the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen comes across your screen. You stop the mindless swiping immediately and just stare at him.

You can already imagine the way those blue eyes would look up at you from between your thighs, and how much better his face will look when they're glassy and he's covered in sweat and drooling down his chin...

Oh yeah, he's what you're looking for alright.

So, you scroll down to read what his bio has to say.

If that bio is anything to go off of, he's also looking for something casual. After all, he mentions fingering and being ridden in the same paragraph. Perfect.

You Swipe Right on him and your phone immediately buzzes, announcing that you matched. Sweet.

Johnny texts you first. How... cute.

Johnny: hi beautiful x Johnny: how are you doing?

Oh, sweet summer child... what does he think this is? Small talk that'll lead onto a date?

You: doing good. You: how's your night looking?

It takes a minute before his reply comes.

Johnny: very free Johnny: wanna hook up?

There we go, Johnny-boy. That's the spirit.

You: would love that You: do you know that one bar around the corner from the post office? Johnny: of course You: meet there in an hour? Johnny: i'll be there Johnny: i'll be wearing blue

You can't help but chuckle... he won't be wearing much of anything soon enough.

-

Finding him at the bar is extremely easy because the bar is not packed, albeit still pretty busy. But that's not why you picked it. You picked it because it's only a short car ride from your flat.

Johnny is leaning on the bar, as promised, wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark wash jeans, and a pair of simple black boots.

You approach him from behind, wearing a simple black dress. Not one of those flashy, slinky club types, just a regular dress. You know what you came here to get.

"Hey." You greet him casually and he turns to look at you, his hand wrapped around a lowball glass with some drink inside. It's clear... so either tequilla or vodka.

When he turns you realize three things immediately: 1) He lied about his height. He's definitely not 6ft tall, but 5ft10 at the most; 2) He's built like a brick shithouse, impossibly wide shoulders with large, beefy arms... So he wasn't lying about his 'Athletic' build; and 3) He has a fucking mohawk.

You can already imagine the way he'd look, your legs over his shoulders, as you squeezed his head between your thighs while his tongue lapped at your folds... Fuck, you're horny.

"...nice. What are you drinking? I'll buy." You catch the end of what he said, the beginning probably a greeeting, and a compliment, and, now an offer of a drink.

You try to shrug casually and seem unbothered. You decide to humour him. If he wants to play the gentleman part and pretend this is a date, you can play along.

"Whiskey. Neat." You murmur in reply as you slot yourself next to him against the bar, your thigh brushing against his as he orders and pays for your drink.

"So, a soldier, huh? What's that like?" You muse as you take a sip of your drink, watching him take a sip of his, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Oh, how you'd love to wrap a hand around...

"I like it. Always ken I wanted to be one. Tried to sign early and everythin'. I like keepin' active and I'm good at what I do..."

He continued talking, but you tuned him out, eyes locked on his mouth, watching how his lips pushed and pulled for each word, his white teeth in a neat row behind and his wet tongue sometimes peeking out.

He talked a lot. He talked... too much.

"Let me cut you off right there." You interrupted him, causing him to shut his mouth and stare at you. "Care to have this conversation between my legs, gorgeous?"

Johnny stares at you with impossibly wide eyes, like what you just said is the most bizarre thing he's ever heard. His left brow, right below an obvious scar, twitches, a sign he's interested. "...When?" He asks in a murmur.

"Right now." You reply with a head tilt.

The blue-eyed Scot simply nods eagerly and knocks back the contents of his drink into his mouth.

-

"That's it... That's fucking it-" You croon as you buck your hips into his mouth, your back pressed against the wall, the hem of your dress curled up and tucked into the elastic band of your bra.

Johnny's on his knees on the floor of the cubicle, his tongue lapping at your slick cunt like he's a prisoner on death row and that's his last meal request and he insists on enjoying it.

One of his hands grips your right thigh, squeezing it and keeping it steady, the other alternating between rubbing your clit and going around the back of your hip to squeeze one of your arse cheeks, pulling you deeper into his mouth whenever he licks and sucks your clit.

His blue eyes are locked on yours and they look just as good as you had imagined they would as his moist tongue curls to gather some of your slick and swallow it down, to taste as much of it as he can.

He's such a fucking munch, his tongue parting your folds and diving as deep into your hole as he can get it, before sliding back up to meet your clit, giving it a greedy suck.

There's a smug smirk on his lips, even as they're buried in your cunny, and a chuckle falls from them too while he thrashes his head side to side like a dog playing tug-of-war, nearly blowing raspberries on your clit and causing you to squirm against him, more expletives falling from your mouth.

You know what he's thinking. He thinks he's in charge. He thinks he's doing a good job fucking you. Oh, how wrong he is. And you're about to show him that.

"Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, sweetheart." You demand as you push his hands off your body and grab onto his stupid fucking mohawk with both hands like a handle to grind yourself against his face.

His eyes widen, but the sight of you using his mouth, his tongue, to get yourself off, hips bucking and dragging across his chin and tongue, lips and nose is enough to get him riled up.

He can't help himself, his hands finding a spot on the floor and his own legs spreading apart, allowing him to half-grind his clothed cock against the tile.

His head bobs eagerly against you, his nose buried in your mons, the flat of his tongue rubbing over your clit, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, crotch and folds.

Your legs are trembling on either side of his head, but you don't stop riding yourself against his tongue, your head falling back against the tiled wall behind you, the pitch of your voice getting higher and higher.

The way the flat of his tongue presses to your clit causes your whole body to shake, your skin warming up more and more to the touch. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter by the second and your breath, as well as your moans, are ragged and long.

Your hips buck and thrash and your head hangs low suddenly as your climax crashes onto you, leaving you breathing fast and deep, your eyes fluttering a bit as you look down to find Johnny kneeling between your thighs, his tongue still softly sliding upward, spreading your folds open and swallowing your come deep into his mouth.

"That's it, drink up, I'm not giving you water anytime soon, sweetheart." You tell him, noticing how his eyes have gone glassy, a wet spot having formed in his dark jeans.

Filthy mutt got off on having you fuck yourself on his tongue...

-

Having pulled Johnny off you and fixed your dress back into place, you called an Uber and then dragged the bulky man out of the bar by the hand, marching ahead of him toward the pavement, under a street lamp, to wait for your ride.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you guided your mouth up Johnny's chin toward his mouth, locking lips with him, your tongue seeking his out.

His beard and mouth are both still soaked with your come, he smells of it, and tastes of it too, and with each push and pull of your tongues as you seek each other out, you get more of a taste of yourself.

You only broke the kiss once the Uber arrived, your phone having pinged with a warning, and a car having pulled to the side of the road not far from the two of you.

You and Johnny piled in together and while he scooted all the way across the backseat toward the other door, you slid up next to him as you two greeted the driver.

You didn't bother with a seatbelt (neither did Johnny) and since the driver didn't seem too keen on chit-chat, you allowed yourself to drape a leg across Johnny's lap, while his arm wrapped around your waist.

Your fingers slid over his thigh toward the darkened patch of denim on his crotch, and, with your leg (and the music playing from the speakers) as cover, you slowly undid the fly and button.

"What are ye-" Johnny murmured as he glanced at you with raised brows and wide eyes, like an innocent little puppy.

"Sh-shh..." You hissed as you kissed his cheek, playing the part of a loving girlfriend, or an overly affectionate date, for your driver's sake, you slowly slid your fingers through the open zipper, fishing for his cock amidst the wet fabric of his boxer briefs.

The pretty boy was already at half-mast again, even after having already come once, and your hand quickly wrapped around it as you began stroking it.

Johnny thighs trembled and his legs kicked out a bit as he felt your warm hand wrap around his sensitive member, and he looked away, out of the window, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows scrunched, and a hard bite on his bottom lip.

His cock began steadily throbbing in your hand, hardening and growing more with each languid stroke of your hand around him. He's thick. Much thicker than you expected him to be. You can feel your fingers struggling to fully wrap around him.

Sliding your palm up, you slowly rub over the hooded tip, which draws a squeak from the back of his throat, his chest heaving, and his stomach being sucked in.

"Control yourself..." You whispered in his ear which, making sure to shoot a glance forward at the Uber driver, who seemed focus on the road.

In response, you received yet another soft groan and a hiss through clenched teeth, Johnny's head lulling toward you, his forehead leaning against your temple. "Feels... fuck... I can't... you're... ah-"

"Feels good?" You murmur in his ear as you kiss his bearded jaw lightly, feeling him buck a bit against your hand, causing your thigh to bounce on his lap.

"Hm... Mhm..." Johnny grunted. "Fuck... Steamin' Jesus..." He whined brokenly as your hand kept stroking his length fully, up and down, at a slow, languid pace.

You'd draw back the foreskin, exposing the bulbous head, before drawing it up again as your hand climbed up to rub against the tip for a moment, only to roll back down once more.

Whenever the car would drive past a street lamp, the yellow-toned light would flutter briefly over Johnny's exposed cock, and draw your attention right to his pink, bulbous tip, overstimulated and angry, leaking shiny beads of pre-cum.

"Sh-Shh..." You cooed at him again, enjoying the broken sounds of pleasure he'd let out through clenched teeth, the way his cock would throb and twitch in your hand, and how the muscular man next to you vibrated with tension.

Oh, how you loved to make men break under your hand, and, even more so, how much you loved to make men like him break. A soldier, a strong man, used to dominating... How silly of him to think he had any power here...

It takes little time for Johnny to suddenly twitch and thrash next to you, his breath picking up and becoming ragged and wet, like he's struggling to control himself into being quiet...

You look up at him just in time, finding the way his head falls back on the headrest of his seat, while he grunted under his breath and hissed through his teeth, again, and again, his eyes fluttering shut as he experienced a dry orgasm, only the tiniest beads of cum slipping down to your fingers right below the head.

Just in time too, because the Uber pulled over less than a minute later, the Uber driver looking back at you and Johnny. "We're here, Miss." He told you politely.

"Thank you, Jared. I'll be sure to leave you a 5-star rating and a good tip." You replied to the driver as you slipped your leg off Johnny's lap and scooted closer to the other door.

After opening the door, you turned again and grabbed Johnny by his shirt collar, your fingers hooking themselves onto the inside of it and grazing his dog tags hanging around his neck.

Smirking, you slip them from the confines of the shirt and then twirl the ball chain around your forefinger like a lead, pulling it taut, which causes Johnny to audibly whine.

"C'mon, Johnny." You ordered as you tugged him forward, causing him to scoot forward, ducking his head to follow you out of the car, his movements languid and slow, his head still cloudy from the recent orgasm.

-

"Fuck, yes! Fuck!" You whine, your head falling back, your hair sticking to your forehead and your nape.

"Steamin' fuckin' Jesus... Fuck..." Johnny groans, his own head rolling back on the mattress of your bed.

"Yes... Yes..." You grunt as you fix your grip on the bottom of his thighs, right before his knees, bouncing your ass off his lap.

Johnny's mouth is hanging open, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he lies on a puddle of his own sweat, every inch of his exposed, hairy torso glistening under the light of your bedside lamp.

You're both exhausted, your hands slippery on his sweaty thighs, your own sometimes shaking as you bounce on him again, and again.

Your pace is starting to become uncoordinated and sloppy because your legs are tired, your knees struggling to keep up and causing you to stutter atop him, driving his cock harder into you and deep against your cervix twice in a row.

It drives a desperate moan out of you both and you go still for a moment, feeling the sweat trickle down your brow.

"Fuck... C'mon..." Johnny whines and grabs you by the hip, attempting to rock his hips up against the cleft of your ass, helping pound into you...

Only for you to bounce up with him and then throw all your weight down onto him, causing his ass to be pinned back down onto the bed, and drawing a loud yowl of surprise as his cock barrels right against your cervix, sending a sting of pain up your spine.

Johnny looks up at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, seemingly horrified and confused.

Finding his eyes, you lean forward, pressing your hands onto his chest, before murmuring "Stay fucking still. This isn't about you."

"Sorry?" Johnny murmurs, whether in confusion or genuinely apology, you don't know.

"You're nothing more than a toy right now. And good toys don't talk." You warn him.

"I-" He stuttered, not fast enough to protest before you were moving atop him again, the new angle and slight pause having provided you with an extra burst of energy.

You rocked against him, keeping him buried down to the hilt and rubbing your sensitive clit against the bush at the base of his cock.

It makes you croon in delight, keeping up the same angle but becoming more and more frantic, rubbing yourself against his bush while keeping his shaft sheathed nice and deep in your weeping cunny.

Something about the warm wetness enveloping his already oversensitive cock, the sight of your face contorting in pleasure atop him, so close and yet so far, your hands pushing against his chest so he doesn't try to reach for you.

It drives him over the edge and he finds himself losing it, his big blue eyes fluttering and rolling, his jaw dropping and his every muscle straining as his head falls back, causing him to stiffen beneath you.

Out of breath, you lean your head against his chest, feeling the warmth of your release coming in the aftermath of his own, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you being the final nail in the coffin.

Johnny doesn't dare move as he feels your warm cunt squeeze around him, draining every last drop from his already reduced third orgasm, simply lying there, beneath you.

His mouth is hanging open, drier than the Sahara, every inch of him is slick with sweat and he's out of breath and his entire body is trembling ever so slightly as he closes his eyes in pure bliss.

Only for his eyes to shoot open again as he feels you start up again, your ass carefully bouncing off his sore thighs.

-

Johnny stumbles his way into the training room. It's 6 a.m. and he has not caught a fucking wink of sleep.

Unlike his normal hook-ups, after which he reports to base with a pep in his step and a smirk on his lips that no amount of push-ups, sit-ups and mile runs can wipe off...

This time, he's limping, every muscle of his feeling sore and stiff, his thighs feel like they're going to bruise up, his cock burns from how oversensitive it is...

He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't drunk water... and the closest thing to a shower he got was when you tossed him some wet wipes in the morning.

Unlike him, you had gotten up in the morning (aka after a 1.5 hour power nap) perfectly energized and like you hadn't spent half of the night riding him like a stallion you were trying to break...

Gaz is the first to notice Johnny's state as the Scot falls into formation with the rest of the unit, his eyes still sort of glassy. But he doesn't say anything... he simply raises a brow and smirks in amusement.

Ghost is standing by Price on the sidelines and notices next and, unlike Gaz, he chuckles at it and calls Price's attention to it. The Captain turns to look at Soap and has to contain the look of amused disappointment from showing on his face.

"Soap!" The Captain calls out, causing Soap to look over, nearly languidly and then approach, with Gaz following behind him, despite not having been called. He just... wanted in on the fun.

"The fuck happened to you, son? Did you get in a fight?" Price asks with a cocked brow, watching how the younger sergeant squirms and his tanned face grows warmer.

"N-No sir." Johnny replies and shakes his head, which causes him to wince, feeling light-headed.

"I think 'assaulted' would be a better word for it, Cap'n." Gaz chides, causing the Scot to huff and turn his head in frustration and embarrassment.

"Shut it, Garrick..." Soap murmurs, which earns a light chuckle from all the men, Ghost included.

"Go shower and take a nap. You're excused for this morning." Price tells the sergeant, causing the lad to nod thankfully and wander off, limping once more.

As he gets back to his barracks, he grabs his phone, typing out a quick message for you, thankful you insisted on giving him your number and taking his... Johnny secretly hoped that meant you wanted a repeat.

"Hope you're happy... Made me embarrass myself in the state I showed up to training in."

The reply he earned, however, was the most cold-hearted one he could've received... One he never even saw coming.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

Read Bunny's Work HERE

[multi-fandomedfreak]

Dating them would include // DBH Headcanons

Authors note: I miss my DBH boys, what more can I say?

Characters: Connor, Markus, Hank, and Ralph

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️: Mentions of making out and mentions of Ralph getting a little too silly (aka having one of his anger outbursts)

🪙 Connor 🪙

-many, many, many, MANY forehead kisses

-Mans is like, 6ft, so chances are he might be taller than you and therefore would love to give you forehead kisses

-He especially likes to kiss you on the forehead as a way to say goodbye and hello

-Loves it when you kiss him along his jaw or neck. And when I say he loves it he LOVES IT

-Mix that with petting/massaging his scalp and watch him absolutely m e l t

-Love language is touch and I will die on that hill

-He loves any type of touch. Especially hugging you from behind or just anything that involves wrapping his arms around you

-He doesn’t mind cuddling but not for too long because he likes to move around

-Will brag about you when given the chance to literally anyone that listens

☮️ Markus ☮️

-Acts of Service. I will also die on this hill

-He looooves doing things for you, he doesn’t care if you can do them yourself

-If he’s taller than you he’ll deliberately put things on the top shelf just so you ask him to help you

-Definitely either carries you out of bed in the morning for breakfast or just brings the breakfast to you

-If you like doing things yourself tho, he’ll reluctantly back off and just give you encouraging words on whatever it is your doing

-Definitely an encouraging bf

-Whatever it is that you do, he’s your #1 fan the whole way

- Loves to play you some piano and if you’re interested in learning, he’ll teach you his favorite songs

-A little bit of a cuddle bug

-His favorite spot to cuddle you would definitely be in front of a fireplace, it’s just so serene

🐶 Hank 🐶

-He’s such a grump that admitting his love language would take a while

-Buut his love language I feel like would be words of affirmation

-I feel like this man just adores it whenever you compliment him or just praise him in anyway

-tries to hide the fact that he likes the praise fails miserably

-He’s. So. Awkward about it. By ‘it’ I mean everything

-Awkward about talking to you when he had a crush on you, awkward about showing affection once you two got together, ect.

-But once you two progress through the relationship, he gets more comfortable with you

-You knew he was completely comfortable with you when he pulled you to sit onto his lap

-Only does stuff like this when your both alone tho

-Mostly because he can get pretty handsy when you both are close like that

-Especially if your making out

-Not a huge fan of PDA so the most he would do is a quick peck on the cheek or a hand on the small of your back

🌿 Ralph 🌿

-One word. C l i n g y

-He just loves being around you. Once he got past the fear of meeting you for the first time, he just can’t seem to leave you alone

-Of course he’ll give you your space if you ask but if you don’t make any indication you want him to leave you alone. He won’t

-When you two are in private, he’s cuddling with you, sitting you on his lap (or vice versa), kissing you

-Or just chillin beside you, enjoying each others presence

-In public I feel like the most he’ll do is hold your hand or hug you

-He gets extremely flustered doing any other couple-y stuff in front of people

-Loooooves gifting you all types of plants

-And loves making flower bouquets for you whenever he gets the chance

-And if you get him a plant of some sort? He looks like he might explode from excitement

-He may have one of his outbursts every now and then but he always apologizes afterwards

-It’s really sweet seeing him try to get better at controlling his outbursts because he knows how they upset you

[skyfallscotland]

The OFFICIAL...no I'm just kidding lmao. My chapter twenty-seven (Xaden's POV) community discussion post. Spoilers below the cut ✨

🌟 Ok let's start with the biggest glaring inconsistency—Xaden implying that he and Liam were taken in and trained by Lewellen.

EXCUSE ME? Rebecca????? You said they were taken in by Duke Lindell, that's what you told me! You mean I slaved away over a map creating a whole backstory and character for this fucking guy and now he doesn't even exist?? I'm????

This changes the whole game as far as I'm concerned, like there's a big difference between them being raised by some random loyalist we've never heard of and the guy who took their duchy or whatever and is now in charge of the whole kingdom? I don't know how to take this seriously either because like...that's very much not away from prying eyes, how is this guy, who's a political figure training them while also maintaining his supposed loyal status to the kingdom?

ALSO, I have a damn map, Lewellen is WAY far from Aretia, so how on earth were they going there? I'd assumed maybe Lindell was living somewhere closer, but if we're saying it's Lewellen now...what the fuck, Rebecca?

🌟 Ok. Next topic. LIAM 😭😭😭 I can't, I can't handle the pair of them on a page together. He's exactly how we fanon'd him in Xaden's presence alone an I need a moment. "Was it us?!" I'm ???? I cry. 😭 I might actually write some angsty Violiaden after that.

🌟 Next order of business. HE LOVES HER. Why is he saying he loves her so many times? I love simp Xaden, but he's so sure of himself, but he refuses to fucking tell her for another year? What the FUCK Xaden???? 🤯😭 I do not like this for him. For her. For me. Nope. Love him though, truly, fr.

🌟 The Imogen dagger delivery is exactly what we all hypothesised but in this instance it does feel very retconned. Like I'm fine with it but also an 'Imogen's unwell' line in the original novel wouldn't have gone astray, so personally I'm not sold this was planned all along but I'll roll with it. I feel like the info about how the wards work and how someone had to have taken them down from within the keep also supports this being a retcon/something forgotten about or not fleshed out yet from the original book. Again though, it's fine.

🌟 Let's talk about DAIN. Why are we saying someone helped the fliers from the inside and took down the wards and then saying Dain is suspiciously out of breath and slower than normal? Why are we doing that? Rebecca???? 👁👄👁

🌟 Xaden: Violet's going to bolt, I don't know how I'll ever stop her even though I'm 6ft tall and I picked her up and carried her five seconds ago. Oh, I know! I'll kiss her!

🌟 Sgaeyl!!!! I love her so much my sassy queen! And did she basically say she loves Tairn? Yes, she did 😭 They're the best, your honour!

Thoughts? Feelings? Discuss!! (please) ⬇

[th3lovely1]

Emily Engstler x Actress! Reader

♡♡♡♡♡

- Written in headcannon form

- Possessive Emily??

- Should I make a part 2?

♡♡♡♡♡

● Being an actress has its ups and downs especially while being with Emily. You're acting in all of these movies and whatnot when Emily is dealing with basketball, so you guys are going to be busy a bit. It was something that you guys had to get used to but it worked out after a few conversations(cause with Emily yk it'd have to take a bit).

● Speaking of being busy, whenever either of you has to travel you guys ALWAYS make sure to call before bedtime. It doesn't even matter if you were too busy to talk throughout the day but the both of you always make sure to call each other at night. Sometimes you guys won't talk a lot and other times you'll talk for hours. But it just depends on how the day was. The good thing though is that Emily is always there to listen. In fact, she even encourages it most times.

"No, you're all good, baby. Keep on talking. I wanna hear how your day was"

AND HER TIRED VOICE OMG!!

● She will never EVER get tired of bragging about you. Whenever anyone asks who she's with she automatically pulls out her phone to show them sooooo many photos and all the shows/movies you were in. And most times they'll stand there like 🧍‍♀️ while she's going on a big rant about you.

"Oh yeah, this is my girlfriend. She's been in this show, which is totally awesome, you'll have to watch it sometime. But she's also been in some other stuff too. Isn't she amazing?"

● But since you're an actress that means that you're popular with A LOT of people and we all know what that means. Luckily, you have Emily at your side who will not hesitate to throw hands for you. So if you're out in public and you both start noticing someone following you or if someone's just trying to be weird in general, she'll walk right up to them and confront them about what they're doing. And she's like 6ft so of course it's gonna be intimidating for the other person. After a few interactions with Emily your fans finally started to calm down. There have been times where you've had to stop her from fighting someone for your sake.

"Em, you can't do that! Everyone's looking!"

"So what?! They can't take a hint for shit!"

"Oh my god..."

● When you're out together she loves to always be touching you in some way. Like holding your hand, resting her hand on your back, or your arms touching while walking together. It's not even just because she's reminding your fans that you're together but also because it lets her know you're by her and safe.

● There have been times when people got weird with you and it made her worry about you WAYYYYY more. She definitely turned into a little helicopter parent for a bit. At first it was sweet but it was something that you guys had to talk about and manage.

● When you have premiers for your movies, she makes sure to come to every. single. one. And she makes sure that she's matching the theme too. She gets a little nervous sometimes but you're always there to help sooth her.

"Are you sure this looks okay? You look all pretty and perfect, and I'm just..."

"You look just fine, Em. Fantastic even. You have nothing to worry about"

"You think so?"

"I know so. Now let's go"

● All of the paparazzi was something that she had to get used to. She's dealt with people coming up to her for photos and stuff but with you, it was completely different. She makes sure to bring sunglasses with her at all times or things that she knows will hide you guys easily. She's even researched different ways to deal with paparazzi in hopes of helping both of you. If yk that one anti-paparazzi scarf? She got one for you.

● She's really understanding about how your guy's schedules work and so are you. So being busy and sometimes missing some things isn't too big of a deal unless it is really big or important. It is a rule to communicate about it after though.

● COMMUNICATION IS MF KEY IN THIS RELATIONSHIP!!! I can not stress that enough. She knows that you have all these fans and people looking at you so there are times when you have to reassure her. And being busy so much is another thing that had to be managed. There was a lot of talking when you guys first got together. But all of that just makes your relationship stronger.

[pix-writes]

Can you do a finger HCs for Ford pls? SFW/NSFW if you can include both

Ford's fingers HCs (sfw and nsfw below, so 18+)

SFW

Ford still has a little apprehension about his polydactly, some still remark on them or think he's freaky and constant childhood bullying and exclusion is no joke! So whilst he knows that he is not ashamed of them himself, he can't help but be tense at people's first responses to them either. Still has a habit of hiding them by standing with his hands behind his back most of the time.

Mabel's pure acceptance of his hands has undone some more of his insecurities and he definitely lets her paint them on occaision and he likes it a little, it's nice to feel acceptance. And if anyone comments on his hands when they are painted, he can just redirect the conversation to his niece to dodge their questions. Sometimes judgemental people are so focused on the fact that an older man has nail varnish on that the six fingers thing escapes their notice! "My grand-niece did these, she's so talented!"

In a relationship, he loves that you either a) didn't notice his six fingers at first b) forget that he has polydactly c) just thought that they were cool/interesting (a bit like Mabel did). Ford is the best person to hold hands with and somehow he doesn't know this? He has an extra finger space so when he holds your hand he totally envelops your five fingered hand with his! Will definitely gain more confidence about holding hands with you if you say this.

Everyone thought he would be a skilled musician because of his fingers (and that he was always good at physics) but he wasn't that great at it, had piano lessons at school but never did as well as the music teacher thought he should. Did play marching band with a woodwind instrument though. But he did learn this cool trick of rolling dice between his fingers, during his time in the portal ended up getting better at slight of hand, usually to do with shuffling cards (was more of his brother's forte though).

NSFW

Ford has pretty dextrous fingers and is pretty good with his fine motor skills, if you know what I mean! His touch can either be firm or delicate and his hands are also pretty big, being an over 6ft stocky guy, so his hands are likely to swallow yours up in comparison! All of this to say, he's good at fingering you. Is at least slightly aware of hurting you because of his fingers being larger than yours and long, but he also has a lot of patience, will open you up with care and curl his fingers in just the right way to stimulate your g and a spot, in ways you can never quite recreate by yourself!

Likes to see you take three of his fingers whilst his thumb brushes over your clit. Or if you're male, to see you take his fingers whilst he also has his other hand wrapped around your cock. Likes to run his hands all over your body, and thread his fingrs through your hair, if he can.

His extra finger does give him a little greivance though, he has learnt over time to do hand massages on himself, to help with some of the cramps he gets when he writes for extended periods of time, and that sort of thing. But it means he can do the same to you on your hands or feet, maybe you can also encourage him to massage your shoulders a little! His fingers can help dig into those knots and its pleasurable, will either get you in the mood or it can be something he offers as aftercare.

[ranticore]

Longwing siren harpy VS Cuinn Vs Ironwall harpy showdown. Who wins??? (They can use their in-world technology I guess)

we're asking the real questions now. let's compare three individuals. I'm shocked I haven't drawn an up to date image of one of my actual Siren longwings.. all the other ones still have tails but longwings don't have those anymore

longwing siren harpy: Miakef From My Blog Header

advantages:

the navigational visor acts to shield the face and eyes

has hands to hold things (weapons maybe?)

quadrupedal stance means a strong and explosive take-off

disadvantages:

flight tends to be slow and hyper specialised

claws are practically vestigal, they have no natural weapons and would struggle to carry substantial manmade weapons

the body of a longwing harpy is extremely small, fragile, and light, they're the ultralight aircraft of the siren harpy world they would rather fly away forever than fight

Ironwall Eagle Harpy: Pascal Leclerc (taking a break from being a horse)

advantages:

it's a yes for natural weapons, no beak no problem. catch these wing-hands

owns a phone with internet access so he could cyberbully you

might call the cops

disadvantages

just a big bird with a guy's face and tits

no natural desire to fight

deep well of insecurity means he's vulnerable to psychological attack

its just like whatever man who cares

Ama Plains Eagle Harpy: it's Cuinn/Ice Storm Over Kosa with the steel chair

advantages:

bloodthirsty and eager to kill, has a biological drive to fight

yes for natural weapons, for artificial weapons i guess he could use a sharpened stick

could get the rest of the flock to attack if you're not a personal rival

deep well of insecurity means he is more likely to ramp up the aggression in response to psychological attack

disadvantages:

as a regular cob harpy he's not that big or strong. and kings are rare on a population level so you'd be more likely fighting a cob than a king

no lips 😔 unkissable

no hands! he doesn't have hands and must use his mouth and feet for tool manipulation. you could just grab him while his feet are busy

overall size comparison (with placeholder longwing):

they're closer in size than i thought. longwing max height is 6ft according to my siren height chart but that's if the neck is stretched out, and cuinn is also 6ft if he stretches. ironwall harpies are comparatively and nonsensically gigantic because i was like fuck it what if i didn't care about flight dynamics for once (and then i put them back in later because i couldn't help myself)

ultimately i think the ama plains harpy is most likely to win because he wants to win and his continued existence as a king (if he is a king at time of fight) relies on him winning. longwing harpy is not built for combat at all but the visor technology would flag any opponent before they were within a hundred miles so they could just leave. ironwall harpies might be big and could probably match an ama harpy if they wanted to but tbh they're too busy worrying about their mortgage (& in pascal's case, which bandmate wants to kick him out)

[ezlo-x]

ive been wondering this since the raceswap

what are the differences between hylians, gerudo, and sheikah in you au? are they just ethnicities or are they something different?

Rabbits and Hares! They are from the same family but from different branches. Weather and environment are very much a cause of this, as are their different cultures. Hylians are the most branched out of the three, including the Northern, Central, and Southern Hylians. In these little drawings I make, I only simplify it as one Hylian culture. Gerudo, Sheikah, and Hylians fall in the human race category, unlike the Rito, Minish, Zora, and Gorons, non-human races (Koroks, Faries, and other sentient beings fall in the Spirit category).

Unique features stand out, such as ears. Gerudo commonly have long ears to regulate their bodies' temperature in the hot desert sun and the cold sandy nights. The Sheikah have lop ears, tbh I don't really have much of a reason why, I just really like how it looks and it helps the Sheikah to stand out from the others. Hylians have short, pointed ears.

Aside from facial features, Height is very different for each race. Gerudo is the tallest of the three, from the shortest being 6-7ft tall and the tallest being 9-10ft tall. The Sheikah's shortest height is 5ft tall, and the tallest is 7ft tall. Finally for Hylians their shortest height is a little bellow 5ft tall and tallest is 6ft tall.

Gerudo has darker skin pigmentation than the other two races. (Hylians can also, especially Southern Hylians, but I can't go much into detail about it because this post will be longer than it already is.) Gerudo hair colors range from orange (lightest) to red (darkest). Gerudo hair is usually textured, from curly to kinky hair. Many Gerudo wear protective hairstyles or headwraps to protect their heads from the scorching sun. The Sheikah hair colors only range in two colors: mostly white/grey and uncommonly black hair. The hair type of the Sheikah is most commonly thick and straight. Finally Hylians, hair colors range from blonde, brunette, to black. Hylians the most vast majority of hair types.

Finally eye color! Gerudo eye colors are hazel, light brown, or green. Sheikah eye colors are dark brown or bright red. Hylians are brown, blue, or green.

[ryin-silverfish]

Nezha's Power Catalog: FSYY

Well, since @journeytothewestresearch has pinged me and @ruibaozha in an ask way back when, we are doing a catalog of Nezha's powers together. I'll be taking the FSYY part.

Google Doc Version

...

Disclaimer: I'm not counting powers from his treasures, such as the Wind-Fire Wheels giving him super speed and allowing him to take flight. 

I'm also excluding the invisibility talisman Taiyi drew on him in Chapter 12, since, unlike his Three-headed Eight-Armed Form, it's not a skill or permanent alteration.

...

Pre-resurrection:

Advanced physical maturity - I don't know what to call “A newborn baby being able to jump and run around right after emerging from a ball of flesh”, but this is probably it. (Chapter 12)

Unusual height - 6ft tall 7 years old kid, though this might just be a result of FSYY's weird sense of scale. (Chapter 12)

Super strength - A 7 years old kid killing Li Gen the Yaksha with a Qiankun Ring to the head likely counts as super strength. In Ao Bing's case, he drags him off the steed with the Huntian Sash first before the bonking. (Chapter 12)

Still, his later beatdown of Ao Guang and being able to draw the Qiankun Bow no one else could lift? Yeah, definitely super strength. (Chapter 13)

Five Elements Travel: Earth - After Ao Guang storms off to make a complaint to JE, Nezha uses Earth Travel to go to Taiyi's abode and ask for help. It's activated by grabbing a handful of dirt and tossing it into the air. (Chapter 12)

Travel to the Celestial Realm - After Taiyi puts an invisibility talisman on him, he goes to wait for Ao Guang under the Celestial Realm's gates. (Chapter 12)

Dream Communication - Talking to Lady Yin in her dream after his suicide. (Chapter 14)

A generic ghost power, as shown by later instances of Wen Zhong and Yin Jiao's souls warning King Zhou in his dreams, before they go into the Terrace of Investiture. (Chapter 52, Chapter 66) 

Efficiency at granting prayers - After Lady Yin builds a temple for him, he is said to be able to fulfill all the wishes of his worshippers, from granting blessings to warding off disasters.  (Chapter 14)

Materialization - After Li Jing's destruction of his temple, Nezha goes to protest to Taiyi, and the narration says that “After receiving incense and worship for half a year, Nezha is able to take a form and voice himself to some extent.” (哪吒受了半年香烟，已觉有些形声)

It is implied here that ghosts can become corporeal again via people's worship, though, from the looks of it, Nezha has only become visible and audible, and doesn't have a physical body yet at the point of the temple's destruction. (Chapter 14)

Post-Resurrection:

Unusual height (Again) - He grows from 6ft to “1 Zhang 6 Chi” after his resurrection, which is about 15-18 ft. (Chapter 14)

Spear arts - Taught by Taiyi. (Chapter 14)

Samadhi Fire - When Wenshu ties him to the Flying Dragon Pillar and orders Jinzha to whip him, he is described as “blowing out Samadhi Fire from his seven orifices” (打的三昧真火七窍齐喷). This may or may not be metaphorical. (Chapter 14)

It must also be noted that FSYY's Samadhi Fire is not the Red Boy-exclusive special attack of JTTW, and multiple Daoists from both Chan and Jie Sects are able to use it.

The best example is when Nezha and his brothers, Lei Zhenzi, Huang Tianhua, and Weihu try to burn Ma Shan with the Samadhi Fire on Jiang Ziya's orders, which doesn't work because he's a lampwick spirit, who proceeds to escape through the flames. (Chapter 63)

Lotus Body: Immunity to soul-based attacks - In Chapter 37, the narration then explains that all beings of flesh and blood possess the Three Souls and Seven Spirits, and Zhang Guifang's spell works by forcefully scattering them. 

Nezha, because of his lotus body, does not have souls, thus granting him immunity to the attack. 

This will become a recurrent thing. Here's a list of all the soul-based treasures and spells that fail against Nezha:

Zhang Guifang's Unhorsing Spell (Chapter 37)

Zheng Lun's nose beams (Chapter 57)

Chijing Zi/Yin Hong's Yin-Yang Mirror (Chapter 60)

Guangcheng Zi/Yin Jiao's Soulfell Bell (Chapter 65)

Qiu Yin's Red Pearl (Chapter 74)

Fa Jie's banner (Chapter 79)

Long Anji's Paralyzing Ring (Chapter 79)

Bian Ji's Spectral White Bone Banner (Chapter 84)

And here's a collection of his sassy responses: 

“Bastard, I'm staying on these wheels and you ain't calling me off them!” (Against Zhang Guifang)

“Dude, are you sick or something, blowing your nose at me like that?” (Against Zheng Lun)

“Idiot, it's just a red orb. What's so special about it, huh?” (When Qiu Yin tells him to take a look at the pearl)

“Your ring sucks, check out mine!” (To Long Anji, right before bonking him with the Qiankun Ring and killing him)

Lotus Body: Resistance to physical attacks - Spells can't knock Nezha off his wheels, but weapons like Yang Sen's Sky-opening Pearl, Wen Zhong and Zhao Gongming's whips, and Guangcheng Zi/Yin Jiao's Heaven-turning Sealstone can. (Chapter 38, Chapter 42, Chapter 47, Chapter 63)

However, he doesn't seem to suffer any lasting injuries afterwards. The only non-magical/poisonous injury that sticks for a while is some bruises, from getting hit in the face by Deng Chanyu's Five Light Stones. (Chapter 53)

Lotus Body: Immunity to diseases - When Lv Yue puts his plague pills into Xi Qi's water supply, the entire city falls victim to the sorcerous plague, save for Nezha and Yang Jian, because of the former's lotus body and the latter's Ninefold Mystic Arts. (Chapter 58)

Later, Yu Hualong's five sons create five bushels of poisonous poxes, which are spilled all over the Zhou camp from the air, giving everyone magical, five-colored smallpox.

Once again, Nezha is immune, and Yang Jian, knowing that the Yu brothers are up to something, gets the hell out of dodge before the pox spell is unleashed. Cue Nezha complaining of them “Pulling a Lv Yue again”. (Chapter 81)

Immunity to the Soul-Killing Banner (戮魂旛) - The treasure in question belongs to Yu Hua: when raised, it unleashes/turns into multiple streams of black smoke that covers the victim and whisks them away. (Chapter 32)

Subsequently, he tries to use it against Nezha, but Nezha just grabs the smokes, seizes the treasure, and stuffs it into his Leopard Skin Sack. This may or may not fall under the umbrella of “Immunity to Soul-based Attacks”. (Chapter 33)

Counterspell: Pearl Attack - Feng Lin can blow a cloud of smoke out of his mouth, which contains a bowl-sized red pearl that functions as a projectile weapon. Nezha just points his finger at the smoke, and it fizzles out. (Chapter 36)

Supernatural endurance: Red Sand Formation - One of the Ten Formations, it contains three bushels of red sand, which can create a giant sandstorm that reduces any humans and immortals who enter the formation to powder. (Chapter 44)

Nezha and Lei Zhenzi are assigned to protect King Wu, the only person who can break the formation…because Fate Says So, but is also Fated to get trapped in there for 100 days. So naturally, Nezha and Lei Zhenzi get stuck in there alongside him. (Chapter 49) 

When Old Man of the South Pole breaks the formation, Nezha and Lei Zhenzi are fine, but King Wu is already dead and has to be resurrected via a magical pill. (Chapter 51)

I'm not putting this under Resistance to Physical Attacks because, unlike the weapons, I'm unsure as to whether the red sand is magical in nature.

Resistance to poison: Blood-melting Knife (化血神刀) - Limited, since Nezha is still severely injured and incapacitated by Yu Hua's new treasure (made by his master Yu Yuan). However, for mortals, a wound from the knife is pretty much an insta-kill. (Chapter 74)

Three-headed, Eight-Armed Form - After Nezha is injured by Yu Hua's knife, he's taken back to Taiyi's abode to recover. When he's ready to leave, Taiyi offers him three cups of wine and three “fire jujubes”, which gives him his iconic multi-headed and armed transformation.

Unlike in JTTW, FSYY's Nezha has 8 arms instead of 6. Presumably, the 2 extra ones are used to wield the Yin-Yang Swords, the pair of weapons Taiyi gives to him alongside the Nine Fire Dragon Bell Cover…which never get used afterwards.

Upon switching to the multi-headed and limbed form, his appearance also changes into a blue-faced, red-haired, fanged monstrosity, which is not too dissimilar to the fierce guardian deities of esoteric Buddhism. (Chapter 76, Chapter 79)

Also, amusing reaction to his new transformation: “Dangit master, how am I supposed to use all these arms? They are like ugly branches on a tree.” (Chapter 76)

Sagehood in Flesh (肉身成圣) - Nezha is said to attain the status post-war, alongside his brothers, Li Jing, Lei Zhenzi, Wei Hu, and Yang Jian. 

Basically, immortality and godhood, but it doesn't require you to die in Ancient China's Bloodiest Bureaucracy Recruitment Program first. (Chapter 100)

[cypherscript]

Pulling a favor

Been watching Hazbin Hotel, really enjoying it so far. Time to mix my obsessions together cause that's what we do here, ain't it?

_____________________________________________________________

"Okay, I can get you the meeting but once you're in Heaven I wont be able to go with you. Will you be okay?"

Charlie takes Lucifer's hand into hers, "I'll be fine."

Lucifer places his other hand on hers, "That's my girl". He steps back, a look of pride on his face before sighing, "Good luck, kiddo." His magic flares from the ground, taking him away in a swirl of power before he steps out into a room full of his rubber ducks. Flopping down into a pile of ducks reveals a throne like chair that he slowly sinks into. "What should I do? Heaven's never going to listen to her... but maybe... YES! Where is it?" He begins digging through the multitude of ducks before pulling out a scroll with a note, 'One Favor-open when shit hits the fan'.

With a flourish he breaks the seal on the scroll, tossing it into the air as it bursts into an acid green flame and grows larger and larger until it's nearly 6ft tall, Lucifer lowers his head: not quite a bow but somewhat respectful, "King Pariah, I have a request, I have need of-"

"Uuuuh," a voice most definitely not King Pariah spoke, "I don't know who you are but Pariah's long gone."

Lucifer looks up to see the flames displacing a human boy sitting at a table eating food with his family. "Someone... Someone defeated the Infinite King?"

"Who is it sweetie? One of your ghost friends," The mother asks as the boy stands up, grasping the 'frame' of the green fire. "Isn't Pariah the ghost that stole our town?"

"Yeah mom, I'm not sure who this is so I'll just take this into another room."

"Alright Danno, I'll save you some meatloaf," the massive man who was obviously the boys father.

Lucifer's mind was going a million mile an hour, 'The Infinite King was defeated... The scroll opened to this human boy... This boy defeated Pariah Dark in single combat... HOW?! Human's are so squishy.'

The boy released the flame to float in front of him, "So why were you trying to contact king edgelord?"

"I am... sorry... but who are you?"

"Ah... so you're not a ghost," The boy asks, tilting his head before a ring of pure white light travels over his body transforming him; hair whiter than the holy light, eyes as green as the flame he spoke into, a cloak of stars that continued for what seemed forever over a black and white hazmat suit with a crown of aurora over his head. "My name is Phantom, Pariah tried to take what was mine and I had to put him back where he came from but I suppose you've already pieced that together..." Phantom gestures to introduce himself.

"Yes sir, I have, I am Lucifer of the Morningstar."

"The archangel?"

"Yes, that's... usually not the first guess people go with, I'm also the leader of Hell. I had used this scroll to ask a favor of the Infinite King. My daughter, Charlie, is going to Heaven to meet with the other angels about this plan she has to save the sinners from being slaughtered by the angel exterminators."

"Slaughtered? Aren't they already dead?"

"Normally yes but the angel's weapons can completely destroy the sinner's soul when they're exterminated."

Phantom stills from messing with his cloak, his face stony and shadowy as the lights in the room begin to flicker, "Their souls are destroyed?"

Lucifer feels something he's not felt in a long time creep up his spine, "Yes sir, I was hoping to ask for a favor to protect Charlie while she's up there. They can easily kill her, I'll happily agree to make a deal with you for it."

"No," Phantom says, cutting Lucifer off.

"Ah... I see, thank you for your time," Lucifer goes to cut off the flame video.

"I mean 'No' to the deal. I'll help you but not for a deal, I'd also like to have a word with these angels as well"

"Oh thank you, Phantom! Do I need to bring you here?"

"No need, one second," Phantom leans away from the flame, "Can you guys put my food up?! I've got some duties to take care of love you!"

"Can do, Danno!"

"Love you, sweetie!"

"Right, step away from the flame please." Lucifer does so and Phantom steps through flame with a ripple. Once he's through the flame poofs out of existence. "Nice place, love the... ducks?"

"Ah yes, they're a project of mine..."

"Well, I've seen weirder obsessions. Now what's this about destroying souls?"

"Right, let me explain while I set up the meeting with the angels for Charlie.

_____________________________________________________________

Danny had never heard of such bullshit in his unlife and he worked with the observants for ancient's sake! He steps out of the portal provided by Lucifer, switching to his human form, to the so called Pearly Gates with some Suburbia Ken standing at a podium.

"Welcome to Heaven! May I please know your name?"

"Danny Fenton."

"Right let's see; Dan, Danielle, Ah yes, Daniel Fenton. Oh goodness, you've been dead for some time, why are you just now getting into Heaven?"

"Traffic?"

"..." The angel stands in silence then bursts into a smile, "Well regardless, welcome to heaven!" He throws open the gates and Danny steps inside, his nose twitching at the lack of anything. His eyes lock onto the tallest tower and makes his way to it, the elevator inside playing harps and lyres for elevator music. As he gets closer to his destination he can hear the angels and Charlie musically their debate.

"Ancients I hate Musical dimensions," He says as the elevator comes to a slowing stop. "Showtime," Danny smiles as his transformation takes place, the holy lights in the elevator dimming and flickering.

_____________________________________________________________

Sera looks to Charlie, "I'm sorry, the court finds that the souls in Hell can not be redeemed."

Adam is all smiles at this point, "Ohhohoho YES! I win. Suck it! You better save the day c*&ts because we're coming to your hotel first."

"Are you now?" a male voice asks from behind him, grabbing his hand as he and crushing it in his grip.

"Ah fuck, my hand! Who the fuck are you," Adam screams as the courtroom fills with the inky void of space and Phantom fades into view.

Sera looks down on Phantom and then do his crown, "What are you doing here, Phantom? You have no right to be in this court!"

"No RIGHT?! Do you know what this bastard's doing?! I have every right to be here." Phantom tosses Adam easily to the ground. "You're destroying souls!!"

Adam gets up and summons a sword and swings at Phantom with it scream, "What's it to you freak-show?! Who cares what happens those piss bastard sinners?!"

"Sinners huh? Then why are you here?" Phantom turns frigid as a chain of ice appears on Adam's neck, the end in Phantom's hand. He yanks it tightly, pulling Adam to the floor. "Mister First Sinner. How could you get into heaven?"

The other angels in the court whispering, asking the same question.

"How are you doing that?!"

"None of your business. I was hoping Lucifer's daughter would be able to talk some sense into the lot of you but it seems there's just to many rotten apples up here. Let me fix that." Phantom steps onto Adam's back, grabbing his wings and ripping them off in a quick pull, filling the court with his screams. Lute tries to come to his aid but is slammed into the ground by the inky blackness.

"Phantom that is enough," Sera shouts down to him as she flashes down to the floor, "Why are you here? How did you know know this meeting was taking place?" Phantom glances at Charlie, still holding Vaggie, causing Sera to sigh, "Of course it was Lucifer..."

"I'll freely admit he asked me to be here to watch after here but it became so much more when I found out what this asshole's been doing."

"He did what he had to do, the demons were going to rebel and we had to protect our own souls. They need to be kept in line!"

"There is no their souls or your souls. You are disrupting the balance, if you kill the soul there's going to be issues with the mortal worlds and if the mortal world goes so do yours. You were so worried about the demons attacking you? You keep destroying souls and all you're going to have to worry about is me."

"Are you threatening Heaven, Infinite King?"

The wings in Phantoms hands turn to ice and shatter into billions of pieces, "I don't make threats, Sera, I make promises." Phantom treads over to Charlie and Vaggie, thrusting his hand out and portal much like a blackhole opens up, "Come along you two." They simply step through with him as the court of angels burst into a cacophony of angelic shouts of alarm and outrage.

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Various pieces of information from the Rise Q&A back in July 

1. When asked how the Turtles got their names in Rise it was said that back when Splinter was Lou Jitsu he travelled the world & developed a love for the Italian Renaissance & it’s art

This might have possibly been hinted at in the show as during the episode Al Be Back, Splinter was shown singing opera when trying to convince his sons to let him join their band.

2. Big Mama’s Assistant was stated to be one of the Turtle’s missing siblings & there were plans to name her after a female artist with Frida Kahlo possibly being the artist Big Mama’s Assistant would have been named after

The Turtles were supposed to figure out that Big Mama’s Assistant was related to them after various encounters with Big Mama, her personality is said to be ‘so disciplined & serious to the point where it is funny’.

3.  The Turtles had always had the potential for mystic powers & the mystic weapons that they took from Draxum acted as a catalyst & conduit to activating them

The Turtles are said to have had their mystic abilities inherently but needed something to help unlock them.

4. When asked about Mayhem it was admitted that Mayhem’s teleport ability was tricky to use due to easily being able to get the Turtles out of any serious situation

However it was stated that it could of been fun to see Mayhem go on seperate adventures similar to Perry the platypus in Phineas & Ferb.

5. When asked about the Raph & Casey friendship which can be seen in other iterations in TMNT it was said that though Raph & Casey didn’t get the chance to interact that much in the show they would actually make ‘the perfect pair’ if they had gotten to spend time together.

6. It was stated that after the Krang were sealed away the Turtles crashed & needed recovery time

7. After the events of the movie the public become slightly more aware of the existence of the Turtles

It was said that there would be a divide between people who feared & people who supported mutants & that the Turtles would have to work to maintain their reputation as heroes

8. When asked about if the Turtles had favourites when it came to their brother it was stated that Mikey was most likely Raph’s favourite & that Leo had a soft spot for Donnie & that Leo, Mikey & Donnie all look up to Raph

Mikey, Donnie & Leo: Raph! Raph! Raph!

9. When asked about Future Mikey & why he looked so much older in the future it was stated that the more powerful you Ninpo & Mystic energy are the more potential the powers have to drain whoever is using them

10. When asked about the heights of the future Turtles it was stated that due to his powers draining him Mikey had shrunk slightly but the Future version of Raph had been over 6ft 6 & the Future Version of Donnie had been slightly taller that Future Leo.

11. Casey Junior is said to have lost Cassandra when he was rather young & only has brief memories of her & that he was mostly raised by the Future version of Leo.

12. When asked about Splinter’s mystic abilities it was stated that he could do anything any of the Turtles could do if he tried

We’ve have briefly seen this when Splinter used Leo’s odachi to make portals but it also possibly means that Splinter could have also possibly replicated some of Raph, Donnie & Mikey’s abilities as well.

13. If there had been a cross over episode with Rise the 2012 Turtles were the Turtles most likely to be used due to many of the people who worked on Rise having also worked on the 2012 cartoon as well

Mikey’s powers are said to open up the possibility for cross overs with other universes

14. When asked about the Rat King it was stated he could have possibly been an extremely powerful Yokai

15. It was stated that Leo & Donnie both got their confidence from Splinter while Raph inherited his courage & sense of duty 

It was also stated that Mikey can tell that Splinter misses his old family & works to keep the family together

[captain-huggy-bear]

Sherwood Forest

Pairing: Kiefer Sherwood x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: You give Kiefer a new nickname or two or three.

Notes: I am first and foremost a Quinn girlie but I do love Kiefer and I also can't help but calling him any sort of Robin hood reference so...

This is short, but I felt like writing it. I feel like Kiefer is the cocky, smooth kind of guy that makes you melt a little even when he's a little crude and rough around the edges.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

Kiefer is the last to leave the locker room after the game, to the point where you admittedly grow bored of waiting for him out in the corridor. He doesn't seem to hear you enter, even as the door shuts behind you, his back to you as he messes with a strap on his bucket.

Your boyfriend is so engrossed with fiddling with the strap that you can't help but be amused even if you really want to go home already. He's not even in his suit yet and it baffles you how he's managed to get distracted by something so unnecessary, something the equipment manager will likely fix for him anyway.

"Hey there, Robin Hood," You feel the way Sherwood's shoulders jump underneath you as you sneak up behind his sitting form, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your chin to the top of his traps.

He groans, setting the helmet off to the side of the bench, "Is that really what you're calling me now, sweetheart?" His face turns towards you, brown eyes peering over at you with fond amusement.

"Mmmhmm, cause you steal from the rich, the other team, and give to the poor, the Canucks..." You're joking, mostly...although, his 2 goals tonight might have made the joke a little more relevant. His ability to steal pucks on top form along with his hit ratio. He'd had an excellent game and you could feel how upbeat his mood was in the playful way he entertained you, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Or because my last name is Sherwood?"

"Do you not like it? I thought I was being creative, you guys always give each other nicknames...I'll stop if you want?" He might be playful with you, but you don't want to force Kief to be called something if he genuinely hates it. There's a slight anxiety that maybe you've overstepped the mark.

You can't help the laugh that slips out when his arms reach for you pulling you into his lap, until you're firmly pressed against him, arms over his shoulders, "You can call me whatever you want, sweetheart," he grins up at you as you push a dark curl away from his cheek and behind his ear. It's started to grow out even more, along with the scruff on his cheeks and never fails to make him look like some sort of medieval knight.

"Anything?" You grin down at him, working a hand into his hair, fingers gently threading through his curls and working out the few knots you find.

"Anything." His hands squeeze your hips, pulling you more firmly onto his lap.

You think for a moment about what you could call him that he might hate, grinning as you ask, "Pookie?"

"I can deal." He nods serious like the idea isn't completely ridiculous, like calling a 6ft, 195lbs man pookie wasn't some sort of crime against humanity.

"Snookums?"

"Might ruin my reputation with the guys, but for you? Sure." You laugh, imagining the reaction of the entire locker room if you turned up one day and loudly proclaimed him your snookums, he might be their heavy hitter but his reputation might take an even heavier hit.

"Toots?"

"Mm, shouldn't I call you that? But, yeah, fine, call me toots." Kiefer's hands slide up to your waist, holding you there as his fingers flex, eyes admiring as he watches the way you come up with idea after idea, more ridiculous each time.

"Bubba? Old man? Doodlebug? Lovey?"

"Seriously, anything. I would let you call me the worst, most embarrassing names on the planet...as long as I get to call you mine." He smirks at you at the end, proud of himself with the line he just dropped and the way it makes you look away, bashful but smiling, face scrunched up.

"Oh, that was smooth..." You love and hate how it makes you feel giddy like a school girl when you're in fact in your 20s and most definitely too old for feeling that way over a boy.

"Y'like that?" Kiefer drops his voice down low, pulling you until your hips straddle his own and you're as close as you can possibly get.

"Mmm, old man, yeah, I liked that. I like you..." You hide your face into his shoulder, cheeks incredibly warm and heart racing a frantic pace.

"Well, that's a relief, it'd fucking suck if my girlfriend didn't like me."

"You're such a pain!" You lift your head up, cheeks puffing out as you roll your eyes at him, hand whacking him lightly on the shoulder. Not that any hit you could give him would hurt, Kiefer was built like a brick wall and knew how to take a hit.

"Oh, I'm a pain? You just went through every embarrassing name for me you could, and I'm the pain, sweetheart?"

He grins at you, the sort of grin that should have warned you he was up to no good because mere moments later the fingers at your waist are no longer just resting there, but digging in, tickling you at the most sensitive spots he can find.

"Kief! Stop!" You're laughing involuntarily even as you say it, hands trying to shove his away, but he holds you against himself as his fingers reach for every weak spot you have, "You're being mean!"

You're certain you might wet yourself with how hard he's tickling you and it's your screeching that finally gets Kief to let up for a moment to offer you a deal. You're panting as he meets your eye.

"Okay, okay...I'll stop...if I get a kiss." His teeth show as he smiles at you, clearly proud of himself like a little school boy.

"No." You refuse, even though secretly you want to kiss him. But, he'd been mean and you couldn't reward his bad behaviour surely?

"No? You won't kiss your boyfriend who just won a game?"

"Not when he's being mean." You pout at him as if you have the upper hand, as if he doesn't have all the power in this scenario, it's cute, but naïve.

"Oh? I'll show you mean." You should have expected it really, the way his fingers immediately reach back for your waist, digging, tickling until you can't breathe again, until you concede defeat and offer him up a kiss.

"Okay, okay! Fine, I'll kiss you, Sherwood Forest."

"Seriously?" He rolls his eyes at the nickname, another one to add to the books, even as he's grinning at you and his victory.

"Do you not want that kiss now?" You're a bit bratty today and he kind of likes it, kind of thinks he should make your life harder for it too, but decides he really just wants that kiss.

"Don't you dare take my kiss away, Maid Marian," He threatens you before pressing his lips to yours, insistent, firm, not exactly gentle not that many things about Kiefer are. His fingers are gripping your hips tight and the scruff on his face scratches and still you can't help but lean into him, opening your mouth against his.

"That was bad," You laugh against his lips as you pull back slightly, noses brushing like the way his lashes brush the apples of his cheeks when he smiles down at you.

"Not as bad a snookums."

[starlightmoon96]

Yandere TFP Ratchet x female human reader(Gundam model builder nerd) pt.3 final

(warning slight smut/ forced agreement/ one side delusional toxic relationship)

So many things where going threw your mind, the moment that Ratchet confessed that he had feelings for you. Wasn't something you where expecting, after all he was a completely different species from you and never in a million years would you think that someone like Ratchet would end up developing feelings for an organic especially a human. Now because of the Synth-En it had corrupted Ratchet's personality, him telling you how he repressed and ignored his feelings towards you in wanted to see you as just a human like with the children. The more he took the Synth-En the more obsessed he became of you to the point where he accepted that he fell in love with an organic and that organic being you.

Which was situation you where in now, the Syth-En completely took control over Ratchet and now you where at his mercy, you didn't know what Ratchet was going to do next. There was no way to call for help when all the autobots even the great Optimus where drugged up because of Ratchet, you didn't know where he was taking you. By the time you had finished processing what had happened Ratchet had taken you to his room, you had been curious with how the bots lived but never bothered looking in there rooms since you respected there privacy.

"I want to show you something (Y/N)...something I've been secretly working on." You didn't know what was going to happen next but you where to scared to move when Ratchet put you down, you wanted to run since the door was open but he thought ahead and closed the door before he walked over to his privet work space. Your attention was now on a type of strange devise that Ratchet had pulled out that looked like it would fit on ones wrist, you didn't know if it was meant for you or not.

"I wanted to get closer to you, that's when I came up with THIS." That's when Ratchet had put the devise on his wrist and activated it, before you knew it Ratchet's size had changed from a normal cybertronian height to now of over 6ft. Though his new size reminded you of a SD model

"What did you do?" You questioned that to Ratchet not believing what you had seen as he approached you

"Mass displacement, something like it wasn't necessary before." Out on instinct you didn't even realize that you where walking backwards until you felt your back hitting the closed door, before you knew it Ratchet slammed both of his hands on the door trapping you in place.

"Now it is necessary." After he said that you flinched feeling his hand placed on your waist and pulled you close to him with your back pressed against his chest and both of his arms wrapped around your waist, you where too scared to protest seeing how unstable he was and now that he had shrunk his size you didn't want his harming you.

Before you said anything you stopped yourself, feeling Ratchet's hands move up from your waist slowly and feeling his mouth near the back of your neck.

"I wasn't aware this is how humans felt."

"Ahh...Ratchet? W-What are you doing?" Words finally reached your mouth, you where both scared and worry with what he was doing with you. Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse you felt your blood going cold upon feeling his hands on both sides of your chest with a slight firm grip, in those horrible moments for you was when Ratchet purposed a deal with you. Well more like a threat than a deal in your point of view, his deal was his undying love and affection. In return for his love you couldn't say a word to anyone, not even there human allies. Along with keeping your distance from Optimus as much as possible, you also took his threats seriously as well knowing his threats where true after he had put the rest of the autobots in a type of deep stasis.

As much as you didn't want too but you had no choice but to agree with Ratchet's demands...thus was the start of your forced relationship with a alien/robot, it felt like walking on eggshell with Ratchet with his mental state. It was also your first time in a toxic relationship as well.....or a one side since you didn't see Ratchet as a romantic partner as soon as the agreement took place. Even after the Syth-En wore off he acted the same as when he was on it, in front of the others he acted like his usual self. But when he was just the two of you when he would sneak out of the base and showing up at your apartment using his mass displacement devise in entering your apartment, that's when he would change. Whispering words of love to you that made your skin crawl and unwanted fondling in showing his affection for you was something you didn't like and worse was that you couldn't say or protest about it, the worse part was that you could date anyone either. Ratchet had threatened to harm any human that tried to make advances with you or going behind his back abs cheat on him, in his eyes you were his spark mate and didn’t want to share you.

The only thing you where happy about was him not destroying your gundam models or making you stop building either