#i love him but he's kind of a scary bastard!

[orionshounds]

its been played up alot in the sonic franchise that other characters find shadow unnerving or even downright terrifying, which has always been funny to me because he has never really looked scary

but watching the movie trailer made me see something different......seeing his power being demonstrated in a more "real world" setting, watching those glowing red eyes as he speeds towards something......for the first time ever, even if just for a second, i felt actually frightened by shadow the hedgehog

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[hecksupremechips]

Not only did the Shinjiro social link during the femc route actually pull off whatever the fuck Kanjis entire toxic masculinity arc in p4 was supposed to be, it did it without the homophobia and awful friends

[chrolloluvr]

May you please write Mammon x reader smut. Where the reader is short and has a size difference kink. If you do I give many thanks in advance (Seriously love this blog so much)

♡ Mammon w/ A Size Kink ♡

Note: AHHH TYSM BOOKIE!!! Also yes this has been on my mind for so long... and I have not made a proper NSFW fic yet until now. So here you go! (alot more NSFW coming soon, especially for this man...) So here are my thoughts! Also sorry if its a bit short...

AFAB, Female!Reader

Warnings: Size kink, belly bulge, penetration, overstimulation, size transformation, oral (female and male receiving) ★

The height difference makes him feral. He is at least a couple feet taller than you. So he likes to use this to his advantage. By manhandling you. he will pick you up, grab your waist, literally rip your legs off of its hinges when he pulls them apart, etc. So, he likes when you are shorter than him. It gives him a power influx, and it makes him feel supreme to you. So he will basically use you like a glorified sex doll.

He will purposely make himself transform into a couple feet taller. Like a big, scary spider. So he can intimidate you, and get you riled up. He wont have actual penetrative sex with you in his big spider form, but he will eat you out.

And he delivers very well. His tongue is huge. You feel like your in cloud 9 whenever he eats your pussy, especially because he does not do it very often.

his favorite position, especially due to his size, is Full Nelson. He likes how in this position, he has complete control over you. With his upper hands behind your knees, his hips under your own, and his lower arms circling your sensitive clit, and his other hand pussy slapping you. Sometimes, he will place you in front of a big mirror, while hammering his hips into your vice, little pussy. Also making you look at yourself, being utterly destroyed by his large cock. He will tie your ankles together with his webs when he does this.

His other favorite is picking you up, and putting his hands under your legs and throwing them over his shoulders. He enjoys listening to the skin slapping sounds, and how lude they sound. And seeing your reactions to his every harsh thrust to your G-spot. And how especially cramped you are between his body, his cock, and his arms, with a tight grip on your ass. This position makes you more sensitive and vulnerable, which is just where he wants you.

Belly Bulge. Need I say more? It makes him laugh, and chuckle about how 'your gonna take it- fuck, yeah, you like that don't you- little fuckin' slut-'

It makes him realize just how large he is compared to you. How much he effects you and your body. He craves this kind of dominance over you.

He is a little bastard. When he sees you have a belly bulge from his constant plummeting, he will press down onto it. This, as he is well aware of, makes you see stars. You become a moaning, drooling, babbling mess under his large self. Which is what he wants, of course.

The sheer size of his dick. He cant help but feel aroused, when he compares you and his cock side by side. Every now and then, he will have you sat right behind it, while he holds you, and just admire how small you are. He has to prep you for your first time together, and even every single time you guys do have sex. Simply because of the size of it. And its not just long, its girthy too. So if you dont have some prep, he might end up abominating your poor womb.

He especially likes seeing you struggle, especially when you give him head. you can barely fit your mouth around it. Your jaw gets sore within literal seconds of putting his member in your mouth. So you have to use your hands (which also barely touch eachother), for the rest of his cock.

Overstimulating you. His favorite way of overstimulation you is with his arms and hands. He will have you trapped in between his legs. One of his lower arms will be fingering your supple core; the other one circling harshly around your clit. One of his upper hands holding your waist up; the other one toying with your breast and sensitive, puffy nipples.

He also likes overstimulating you, by having you cock warm him. Its one of his favorite past times. Especially when you two try to be sneaky, like during his pageants ontop of the webbing. (should I make a whole other post about this??) He just loves feeling the warmth of your pussy against his cold self. And he wont let you move. Like at all. Unless he grabs your hips and forcibly bounces you up and down, which is after a while of waiting of course.

Dirty talk. He loves making you feel smaller, so he will talk down upon you. Everything he calls you starts with 'my', because he is very possessive. things like "my slut", "my whore", "my princess", etc. He will never talk about you in a truly bad connotation. So he will say things like:

"You like being my little slut, yeah?"

"C'mon, you can take more. don't be a baby."

"yeahhhh. Takin' it like a fuckin' champ. Good fuckin' girl-"

"Oh fuck... shit just like that"

"Ohh yeah- thats some good shit."

"Dont you dare fuckin' move."

"You feelin' good princess? Yeah I bet you are. Fittin' me like a glove."

"Awww you want more? Your gonna have to wait a bit, m'kay?"

"You want it inside? Ya' want daddy to fill ya' up real nice?"

So overall, he favors when you are small and meek. Just be a good girl for him, and you wont have to worry about his intimidation, okay?

[johnwickb1tsch]

Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret. 

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 

“John! Stop!” 

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…” 

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 

Like maybe, tomorrow. 

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”  

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 

“Oh come on.” 

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

[velvetures]

Simon is def the type of boyfriend/ husband to adopt a big dog for your anniversary present (even though it's so self serving, he just wants you to have extra protection). He even puts a little bow on the pups collar when he's presenting you with the new edition to the family. (I can see him with a Belgian/ German shepherd, doberman or even a pit mix breed)

Good Boy

Oh my god, there is no way Simon isn't insisting his S/O doesn't have a dog once you've become an established couple.

I think the only difference I have from your HC is that he'd already have the pup trained and nearly at full size when he brings it home for the first time.

Naturally, he's got plenty of experience after having Riley for years. And spent a lot of time sneaking some of your dirty clothes out of the house to put in the dog's kennel while it's being trained. Accustomating it with your scent and connecting your smell with something that isn't used in training unless it's a drill relating your scent to an object needing protection.

Simon isn't particularly attached to the dog emotionally in the way you're going to be. But he's adamant that other than himself, you're the only other person who will know how to command the dog. It's a safety measure that you're going to be a little resistant to at first, but once he explains that it's so you're always safe -even when he's away- you understand that it's for the best. Simon wants a loyal protector for you, and he's not risking you for anything.

In addition to that, Simon really understands and employs "scary dog privilege" tactics often. Even using himself as the warden who follows you around in public and keeps too many eyes from lingering. The dog he brings home is most certainly intimidating, yet impossibly patient and gentle with you. It's designed that way though. Simon trained the pup to think of you as mom essentially, and his only role is to always protect mom.

When he brought your cane corso home, Simon had nothing but pride for the stoic and well-trained guard dog.

The only problem with this is, you're too damn loving for your own good.

Where Simon won't let the dog on the couch, you put your foot down and demand it gets to sleep at the foot of the bed where you can tuck your feet under it to keep warm. He refuses to feed it anything other than its regimental diet, where you love making lick-mats and trialing a bunch of different dog-safe foods almost like your own little cooking show. Simon refuses to pet the dog all the time, but it's almost given he's going to come home and find you curled up with the massive beast on the couch. You -dead asleep- and the guard dog looming over your curled-up form and giving a low, malicious, growl.

Until it realizes Daddy has come home.

Then the big bastard won't leave Simon alone long enough to take his boots off without getting covered in drool and enough hair to make a fur coat.

These are the kinds of pictures you send Simon, utterly destroying his own mental image of the terrifying dog charged with keeping you safe. You're quite amused when he demands you stop making the dog look so pathetic.

[futurecorps3]

Hii, could you maybe write Remus with a big titty gf? I’m obsessed with the James one btw, I love the way you write the boys!! <3

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Masterlist<3

MINORS STAY AWAY I'LL BLOCK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU, THIS IS +18!!!

See also… All marauders versions in my marauders masterlist<3 (Sirius’ is up!!!)

oh my baby boy <3 I LOVE THIS OFC!! Now I gotta do a Sirius one too hehe. Tysm nonnie! Hope u like it

-We know Moony’s partner would have one of his sweaters at all times, right?

-He loves when you wear his clothes and how your tits look in them BUT

-HE ABSOLUTELY ADOOOORES HOLDING THEM WHEN YOURE WEARING HIS SWEATERS

-“For comfort, love. Helps m’sleep” he says as you’re about to take a nap in his dorm, voice deep and laced in tiredness “‘Course baby”.

-You think he’s just saying that but they do help him sleep, they’re warm and soft and :(

- While James is more of a buries his face in them, Remus just kind of

-Holds them gently, maybe even kneads them a bit

-He’s a smug, teasing bastard so he loves how you squirm when he moves his hands a bit too much<3

-“You alright there, luv?” while home smirks like PLEAAAAASE

-He’s not one to do stuff near the boys but

-He THRIVES when the boys stare at them but try to look away to be respectful!!!

-LIKE YES THOSE ARE HIS WHAT ABOUT IT

-Now if someone else is staring

-He gets so protective over you and so SO angry

-I think Remus has a very quiet anger, he very rarely blows up so he stares at them first (kind of like a Henry Winter stare iykyk)

-Then says something like “The fuck you staring at, mate?” but SO CALMLY ITS SCARY

-The other person usually gets so nervous they have no other option but to leave

-I feel like

-He loves seeing you in tight sweaters rather than clothes that purposely show your cleavage like crop tops

-If you like to wear those go ahead by all means, he enjoys the view! But yeah, he loves a good black turtleneck or knitted sweater that fits tightly to your pretty tits <333

-He likes when you sit on his lap, real close to him because your boobs push all the way up into his face

-Remus Lupin lays on your chest when he needs to relax

-What’s not to love about it? He can hear your heartbeat, read his books or hear you talk, maybe even doze off if he feels like it

-Lover boy is so very respectful ofc, if you don’t feel comfortable with any of those things he’ll understand

-But if you do, know he’ll always have time to take care of them or you, even when that means putting his assignments on hold for a while<3

[sexydoffyman]

Hello 👋, could I request some cod characters (perhaps Ghost, Price or Graves) defending a male military reader from a bunch of guys that are being homophobic to him?

DEFENDING YOU FROM HOMOPHOBES

navigation

genre: fluff

characters: Simon Riley, John Price, Phillip Graves

A/N: Sick of writing for kinktober. Mby that's why I can't write fucking properly. So let's look at some fluff.

SIMON GHOST RILEY

Ghost is a fairly scary man. He's known for being cold and serious. No one expected you to hang around him. He had six inches on you (15cm). Some people joked about you being the love birds in your TF. They could never guess how correct they were.

You weren't dating or anything, but you both held some kind of mutual respect, trust and maybe even attraction. You both had some qualities of a couple. He was a little possessive of you. You were a little clingy with him.

Although you had some kind of a relationship, that didn't really matter. The thing that mattered was you having each other's backs.

He was like a predator, making sure no one hurts his weaker companion. But when he wasn't around, you were left vulnerable. Not physically, no. You held great strength. What was left to hurt if people cant hurt your body? Your mind.

They mocked you ever since you met at boot camp. Any time they saw your face, they felt the need to embarrass you. You could handle it. You were a soldier, after all. But that didn't stop you from feeling hurt.

This time, you just sat there and took it. They yelled. They impersonated. Of course, that commotion would attract some people's attention.

The one that had showed up was Ghost. You couldn't even register him when you saw a 6'4 dude punch one of them. The others tried running, but none of them could get far enough to escape him. Their jaws broken. Ribs shattered.

You could hear him laughing under his mask. He then glanced at you "Coffee?" He asked.

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

All I can say is father energy.

He has been your captain for a few years now. You have gone through shit with him, and you both trusted each other. You viewed him as a kind of father that you never had. And he viewed you as his new child.

He is not possessive, but he is protective. He wouldn't let anyone fuck with you. His rank helped him with scaring people off. He never really had a problem with disobeying soldiers to begin with, so he never actually used his rank, but now. He has to stick up for you.

You really do resemble a kid he would have had. You have similar hair colour and eye colour. Your postures don't have a difference, and you find yourselves finishing up each other's sentences.

These assholes who have been making fun of you were your superiors. What that meant was that you could do nothing to stop them. They could say anything they wanted, and they'd get away with it.

"Thirty laps now!" Your eyes averted to the sudden voice coming from the hall. He heard them. They slowly realised they fucked up. It was raining cats and dogs outside. Everything was muddy and slippery. Running thirty laps would be torture.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Price grunted with a more aggressive tone. They stormed off to the exit to run their laps. He yelled at them before they got out. "Being on good terms with your fellow soldiers is a must. I will have your ranks stripped away from you until you learn that!"

As soon as they left, Price let out a small chuckle. He was proud of himself. Cheeky bastard.

PHILLIP GRAVES

I love this son of a bitch.

Now, this man is always with you. It's not an obsession. It's just the fact that everyone else wants to be either alone or already has someone to be with. He just doesn't want to be alone.

You felt like you were the chosen one. He was still your superior, after all. After some time together, you got used to it. He always apologised for being such a bother. You got free snacks, which you didn't mind at all.

You were fucking around the base, chilling. You would've never thought you'd be sharing stories with him, but there you were. You didn't know what kind of relationship it was. Were you friends, or were you together just because of the situation? You never figure it out.

The dudes who embarrassed you were your rank. But they fuck with both of you since they didn't know Graves's position. A big mistake. He never really said anything to them. One day, they were just gone.

When you looked deeper into it, you found out that two were dead, and three lost their jobs.

Graves is such a gentleman.

[spookypete-94]

"Under My Skin." GhostxFem!reader

Reader explains to members from TF141 what scares her. Ironically, in a way its what scares our loved big brooding specter. Trigger warning for mentioning of fears, dog bites, heights... some insect reference.

"Dogs," Johnny said on the opposite side of the flames of the bonfire that was blazing between the five of them. The warmth was almost too much in places on your body, but still welcomed none the less.

"Dogs?" you asked, curious for him to elaborate.

"The big 'uns, the kind tha'll chase ye'." He said eyes closed and giving a little shake, "Big bastards."

It made you snort, finding big dogs far from scary. If anything they were just more to pet and love on.

"Heights," Gaz quickly answered while leaning back into his chair, legs anchoring him further to remind himself that he was grounded. "You know...for.. reasons." Eyes now looking up at the night sky while he also shivered matching the motion that Soap had just done. Price gave a chuckle, fully understanding the reference of being upside down after falling out of a helicopter- rope tied to his waist.

"You're alive sergeant, and on the ground," Price finally echoed the silence trying to remind him all was well. A warm smile on his face while he drank from his tumbler of scotch.

Gaz gave a scoff as he sat up in his chair, hands squeezing his hat anxiously.

"Ticks," you said plainly, trying to change the subject and get the spotlight off of Gaz, who was clearly uncomfortable still from his ordeal.

"Ticks?" Soap asked, laughing as he did- perhaps its amusing to him that you both are so far on the spectrum. He afraid of something large with teeth that could sink and leave holes, either choosing to grab ahold and not let go- or maybe even worse. Biting again, over and over.

But here you are... afraid of something that can be so small as a pin prick on your skin.

"Ticks," you said firmer sitting up with your elbows on your knees now. "You don't even feel them on you at first, all while they crawl up your skin." Fingers now dancing up as you talk with your hand. "Then before you know it, they make it up to your most vital and tender areas," hand now referring to your upper body and head. "Next they bite you, and sometimes you don't even feel that. Head burrowing under your skin, latching on to you to feed. Sucking off the life force that feeds you, slowly growing, becoming part of you. It started out so small, and now because they are so shady and stealthy, they have grown. Now you know if it. But once you do, you know now this thing has violated you in a way."

"Ya've put some thought inta this," Johnny said, wide eyed, his hands now brushing up and down his exposed arms trying to shake off the imaginary critters that were crawling up him.

"I have, the fact that something can get under your skin so easily is disturbing to me." You said leaning back into your chair.

All of their eyes returned back to the fire watching the flames dance and ashes sparkle in the night ... all except one. Ghost, all clad in black along with a mask sat opposite from you next to Soap. But his eyes locked on your glowing form as you took another drink from your cup. Brown embers like coal, hotter than the fire in between you that actively burned.

If the mask was removed, his face would be so readable. An image that would be almost paintable from the imprint that would have been left behind in your memory. It was shock. He was a deer in the headlights. Somehow, your irrational fear of ticks is the same irrational fear he held for you. You had come into his life. Slowly inched your way up to him in theory. The respect he held for you was great. A woman that had fought her way up to be at the same level they were all regarded in. From earning his respect, you had stopped at his heart, symbolically burrowing your way into it. Now you had latched yourself to him, finding a way to get under his skin. It scared him to his very core, and he is just now finding you latched on to him ... but he could never tell you.

Simon "Ghost Riley Masterlist

[yamisnuffles]

I love Aziraphale because he's expected to be hard, to be a warrior, but he chooses to be soft. He's not gentle, kind, and good because he's an angel. We've seen what the other angels are like and many of them are anything but. And there's no doubt that he could be that warrior if he wanted. He was issued a flaming sword, after all. But he gave it away and seemed none to eager to use it when he finally picked it up again. No, he is who he is because he chooses to be that way again and again.

I adore that. In a world that's often so hard and in a system that expects him to be just as hard, he chooses to be soft. To be silly. He learns to dance even though angels don't dance. He learns magic and French the human way. Successful or not, he likes playing parts, living it up as a double agent and newspaperman. He wears glasses because he thinks they're nifty. He enjoys eating food and going to the barber not because he has to but because he likes being pampered. To be fussy and indulgent. Despite strength and miraculous powers, he makes himself vulnerable so that he can be coddled and rescued.

And it's not like it's easy for him. He has to struggle against what's expected of him and against judgment from the other angels. He was worried about doing the wrong thing before the beginning, before there was even really a concept of the wrong thing. He's so terribly anxious but he doesn't let it stop him from trying to do real good. He did his part to save Job's family, even when he was certain he would fall for it.

Most difficult of all, he loves. Is in love. A thing humans do, he says to the Archangels in S2. So that's not just some easy, natural, angelic thing for him. It's very human and very scary because it's not really something he's meant to do and especially not with a demon. But he pushes slowly forward as best he can. He risks small touches and can't help but wear his heart on his sleeve with that all too expressive face. He's the angelic embodiment of heart eyes. Because he wants to love and be loved.

This isn't all he is, of course. He can be bitchy and petty and hard when pushed. He can be the warrior he was built to be. Those aren't bad things. Just enough of a bastard and all that. But just enough also means they also don't define him.

Which is where my frustration comes in. I understand the desire to flip the script sometimes. I like to do it myself from time to time and definitely think Aziraphale should be allowed to take charge. But it feels like, more often than not, large parts of fandom have taken those moments and made them all of who he is. Of the two of them, he's often made to be much more impassive and distant than Crowley. It's Crowley who is more emotional, who is more overcome physically. Despite the fact that it's almost entirely Aziraphale in canon who reaches and touches. Despite Michael Microexpressions Sheen putting so much open heart into Aziaphale's face. He isn't allowed to be soft and needy, comforted, coddled, and rescued. To be the one who yearns and lets himself be weak with it.

Just... let him be soft and silly. Let him be the person he most often chooses to be.

[inbarfink]

I mean, the thing is that fiction about aliens is almost always going to be about some sort of Other on some level. Whatever it’s about demonizing or fear-mongering about some sort of Outsider Group or trying to get the audience to sympathize with the Other via the metaphor of a lovable alien. 

And Invader Zim is kind of an interesting spot there because, like, it’s not just ‘Bad Outsider Out to Destroy Our Beloved In-Group’ or ‘Poor Sympathetic Outsider Being Put-Down by the In-Group’. First thing first because Zim is kinda both. He is both the Outsider secretly hiding inside the in-group plotting their destruction - but the narrative and framing also sympathizes with him and supports his view of the in-group (that humans are stupid and gross).

So he can’t really be A Scary Demonized Outsider when he gets so much narrative sympathy and support, but also… he is a murderous little world-conquering bastard and most of his suffering is generally just him gets exactly what he deserves so he can’t be your classic sort of Sympathetic Outsider either. 

And the other thing is that the in-group is not even really involved in Zim’s conflict. Zim’s biggest challenge in conquering the earth is Dib, another Outsider. Often, despite being a human and thus part of the literal in-group, Dib is an even bigger Outsider to humanity than Zim is.

Zim and Dib are both Outsiders, and Zim isn’t just an Outsider as an Alien on Earth - among his own people he is in the same situation as Dib is, an Outsider in his own in-group. (Not that he can ever admit to himself that is the case). So these two Weirdos are fighting to protect/further the goals of two in-groups that will never actually accept them. 

And so often their main weapon against each other and the primary danger and the source of their suffering for themselves is the same thing; the in-group conformity and enforcement of social norms. 

Dib’s main evidence that Zim is an Alien is, most of the time, just the fact that he looks and acts weird. But also he himself is constantly bullied for looking and acting weird.

And Zim’s most constant source of anxiety while undercover on Earth is the fact that he’s going to get caught being Too Weird and then not just fail his mission, but get brutally dissected and experimented on. But his best defense against being exposed is… basically just to point out just how much Dib also Diverges From the Norm.

It’s the story of two Weirdos trying to get the other punished for being weird in some way, while the Normies just kinda look on and laugh at them both. And the actual thing they want, recognition and acceptance from their in-group is the one thing they are doomed to never actually get. 

And honestly, I think that's actually what makes a lot of real-life Outsiders cling to IZ, especially while we’re teens. I think, in a way, the fact that it’s kind of a messy Outsider narrative makes it more relatable to the messy middle-school/high-school experience than something more neatly crafted to be uplifting to the Weird Kids.

I mean, I certainly see the obvious value in fiction that’s actually trying to create a positive narrative for queer teens or autistic kids or maybe just scene kids or any combination of the following. This sort of media is very good, and can be just as important to some folks.

But... also the truth is that when you’re an edgy teen wrecked with self-loathing for Weirdness you don’t even fully understand “There’s nothing wrong with me and all the people making me feel like they are Bad!” can be a hard message to really believe in. Sometimes it’s easier to start from “Maybe I am all the terrible things people say that I am but.. still deserve love and sympathy, I can still be the hero of the story”. 

And because, sadly, the problem of Weirdos attacking each other for being Weirdos using the same rhetoric that’s used to hurt them, just for the sake of approval and recognition from in-groups that are never going to treat either of them as nothing but a joke - is not a phenomenon exclusive to the Silly Alien Invader Nicktoon.

And Dib and Zim’s rivalry is a great basic framework to explore it both in analysis of the canon and in fanworks.

[ajaxless]

Doctor Harper being like...The "grown up" version of Kylar. Got sent to the psych ward for being a little too silly (went yandere) and hypnotized everyone into letting him out. Could you fucking imagine how scary that would be to be his (former?) Darling?

Harper as your dweeb classmate. Always has his nose tucked in a book, usually shows up to school with bruises, you can't tell if it's from his home life or from the bullies. You end up taking pity on the poor guy and get into the habit of taking him to the nurse at school to get him ice packs and bandaids. Over time Harper comes out of that quiet and polite facade and brags to anyone that will listen that the two of you are lovers. Except, no, you're not, you never would have agreed to such a thing. Sure, it's sweet that he walks you to each and every class you have and insists on carrying your books, but you never saw him in that light. You were just being kind! He got the wrong idea.

So, when Harper makes you lunch after you forgot yours at home, you don't think twice about it, typical Harper! Harper babbles on about how he's been studying how to become a doctor. That way, you two won't have to rely on the nurse. Maybe you could be his nurse? You could stay by his side all day while he works and dote on him as his lovely assistant!

Unfortunately for you, you don't get to correct him because the drugs he slipped in knocked you out before he could finish. Harper mumbles something about skipping the chapter on sedatives in his textbook and drags you home. Nobody thinks twice to stop him, most people don't even notice him.

Cue basement scene similar to Kylar's, except Harper is less paranoid and panicked. I think he'd just be delusional and convinced that the two of you are together. Defiant! Darling could resist him and snap him out of the delusional state, only to send him into a fit of anger. Submissive / compliant! Darling goes along with it out of pity / fear.

Here are some things I imagine when being abducted by Harper

He never yells and constantly refers to you by a pet name and never your actual name.

When you deny him, he probably just ignores it or smiles at you while pretending you said something else. Creepy bastard will respond out loud to an imaginary conversation he had with you. Example: Harper tries to feed you, and you spit food in his face, only for him to grin and say that he thinks the food tastes good too, then thanks you for sharing. Says things like "I love you too" even when you didn't actually say anything. If you point out that you didn't say anything, he just gives you a funny look like you're the crazy one here.

Harper doesn't think other people are going to hurt you / take you away and he doesn't want to keep you safe. I think he'd hurt you on purpose just so he can take care of you like you used to at school. That and out of revenge for being rejected. He doesn't feel threatened by other people because he's delusional and convinced it wouldn't be possible for you to like anyone else

Harper absolutely tries gaslighting you so he can be the "sane" boyfriend that takes care of you. You're just crazy, ahaha, your memory is soooo terrible. Thats not how it happened. Harper never said that. Have you been taking your medicine?

That Kylar event where they pull a knife to your throat, but this time it's just Harper showing off a new needle that may or may not contain an aphrodisiac. He might just have to "test" to see what's in the syringe. I mean, unless you can convince him not to inject you by having sex with him. Either way, You're going to get fucked. With or without the aphrodisiac is up to you.

Harper's cooking is actually good. Made specifically to be healthy and have all the vitamins and nutrients you need. Only downside is he sometimes spits in the food :( might even do it right in front of you and then laughs it off. Says it's like indirectly kissing you and it's no big deal, he always does this and has been since you let him make you lunches at school. Hearing this is ++stress

Harper doesn't write you songs, instead he makes poetry. You can't read the poems, his handwriting is terrible. (Haha, get it? Cus he's a doctor?)

Forced cuddle sessions, I can feel it. Also a messy kisser. Drools everywhere and giggles the entire time. I think Harper is a humper, cums in his pants all the time

There are two ways to escape:

Resist Harper enough until he gets frustrated and tries to get manipulate you into behaving by guilt tripping you. Harper injures himself in a minor way and insists you take care of him like you used to at school, telling you to go upstairs and get ice from his freezer...Only for you to bolt out the front door instead

Or by screaming until the neighbors hear and the cops come to investigate. Screaming only works at night, and you have to do it five times in a row when given the ability to do it. This sucks because it makes you lose a turn, and you can't resist Harper whichs lead to being noncon encounter

Either way, by the end of it Harper gets arrested. He abducted you and had a lab that made stimulants / pepper spray / sedatives and kept stealing ingredients from the pharmacy downtown. Either they determine he's insane or he goes to court and pleads not guilty by insanity.

You go a few years without seeing or hearing from him, believing he'll rot in jail forever and move on with your life. Then you find out your doctor retired and have to head to the hospital to fill out paperwork to change who your primary doctor should be, and wouldn't you know it? Harper's name is one of the options. Obviously, you don't want him to be your new doctor, but either way, he just forges the paperwork and makes you his patient.

You get called in for an appointment per usual, expecting a new doctor and Harper walks in with that stupid smile while clutching a clipboard with your medical history on it. You try to resist, but a bunch of nurses come in and restrain you and tie you to the table with leather straps that were hidden under the mattress. The entire time Harper just watches with a smile.

I think Harper would immediately confess that he's not a real doctor. He never went to school or graduated. He would've, but you got him arrested. He starts bragging about how he hypnotized your old doctor and took his place to escape, then realized he had a lot of authority and began doing whatever he wanted. Shortly after, he discovered that you still lived in town and jumped on the opportunity to get you back.

There's no harm in telling you this. Because who would believe you? You're crazy.

"Scream as much as you like, my love. The neighbors won't hear you this time."

[yourfriendlyshapeshiftermonsters]

I'm sorry that I'm not great at wording.. At all.

But i think people's need to make their cobs be more of a pathetic loser that he is, Someone that truly got kicked out from his parents basement and never spoke to them anymore. Just a selfish bitch who wanted nothing more than power. Don't get me wrong,i love it when fanfics depicts this guy as the big bad scary villain. But also. man.

This guy really didn't gave out the threatening villain style at all. You may say that he's just acting nice and all dumb like that but are actually just an evil sadistic creature. But to me, he's just a super petty old man that probably would say 'no one wanted to work anymore these days!!' While paying his worker 1 dollar every month

His core character to me was just a CCO who has grown so large that his humanity has completely wiped out, now only caring about the company while his only priority is to be the new viral things, take control of his customer, and take those sweet bags of money. Not to actually make a big super thoughtful effort..

especially on catching an old brand product of his

It didn't made him any less of a bad person ofc. In fact,it made him kindaa. More evil..?? humans?? Selfish bastard??? (realism? Idk how to word it mannn. The point is)

He sees all of the mephones more as an exciting brand new products to the customer and are also pretty straight forward about it to them. Giving them a false hope and pride of them being the product of a popular brand that are better,more superior and be the lasts kind of me phone that cobs needs to produce. Making them the guilable things that cobs need them for

They are not people on cobs eyes,just a replaceable products

Also,is it just me or cobs on s2e8 way of talking about me phones felt like he massproducting the mephones,like. The real robots maybe as a protective bodyguard but also made them easily get broken just so the customer could buy more of em?

[kissesbyliz]

the interrogation

(feat. john price, johnny "soap" mactavish)

cw: smut!! mdni, dubcon, fem!reader, assassin!reader, orgasm denial, mean price and soap

you were being forcefully led through a dimly lit hallway. two men were on either side of you, a big hand taking place on the small of your back and maintaining a firm pressure as it forced you forward. you tried your best to plant your feet on the floor, to resist the situation as best you could, but it was all fruitless as the hand urging you on was just that damn strong.

you gritted your teeth, glaring over your shoulder at the man shoving you. he only shot you a mocking smile in response. his blue eyes soon narrowed as he gave you another push to keep you in motion. strangely, you found it alluring enough that you think you would feel an attraction to it, if it weren't for his fingers digging painfully into your skin.

"keep walkin'." he said harshly, his scottish accent gruff against your ears.

"try not to dig yourself into an even bigger hole, love." the man on your left advised, eyes regarding you with warning. he was the one who had subdued you, you recognized, a faint memory of leaning against his burly chest as he carried you resurfacing in your mind.

you all finally arrived at an interrogation room. you were forcefully ordered to sit down, and you planted yourself on the seat they had pulled out for you unceremoniously. you slid your handcuffed hands onto the surface of the table, glaring at the two men as they rounded it. the one who had been on your left took his place in the chair in front of you. the scottish man remained standing beside his companion, bracing his hands on the metal table to lean over it and gaze at you with scrutiny. you tried to hide your shiver, though you were unable to discern if it was from the chill of the room or from the pressure of their stares.

the man in front of you offered you a sleek smile, his eyes slightly crinkling at the corners, "now, since we're all going to be getting to know each other very well, i think some introductions are in order, don't you think?"

"you can call me price." he nodded to his ally, "you can call that big guy over there soap."

you refused to grant them your name and clenched your jaw. you figured they already knew damn well who you were, having plucked you from your assignment and tossed you in their escort vehicle. price ignored your silence, continuing, "why don't we start off with something easy? you know why you're here?"

"for a good time?" you retorted sarcastically. the men looked at each other, before soap leaned in closer to your face.

"come on, you seem like a smart girl. answer our questions, and we'll consider not having to ruin that pretty face of yours." he sneered. you debated challenging the threat, but opted not to as you figured it wouldn't get you any closer to escaping their containment.

you cocked your head to the side, finally responding, "because i killed your soldiers?"

"assassinated at least a dozen of our men right in their homes. it sure was a real pain in our ass trying to look for you too. isn't that right, johnny?" price corrected you immediately, glancing back at his ally. soap nodded in response, not breaking eye contact with you.

"who d'you work for?" he cut to the chase. the sharpness in his gaze told you that he wasn't fucking around, but you refused to let him intimidate you.

you scoffed in mock amusement, "must be dumber than you look, if you really think i would tell you bastards."

soap grinned meanly, "you're going to, if y'know what's best for ya'."

he leaned back to full height. the sheer size of his figure standing over you was enough to make you instinctively shrink back into your chair.

"think she needs some encouragement, captain." he reported to his leader, something scary lacing his low tone.

"think you're right, johnny." an impending grin slowly stretched across price's face as he confirmed, and you gulped.

"what kind of encouragement?" you demanded, not meaning to make it sound as nervous as it came out. you instantly rejected the apprehension bubbling in your chest with everything you had, urgently reminding yourself of your training. that you could easily kill these people if you so wanted-

"the kind that'll make you talk, sweetheart." his chair scraped loudly on the floor as he stood up to walk around the table, now standing directly beside you. gazing up at him, you came to an odd realization that made something warm bloom in your core; he looks like he could take complete control over you, like he could treat you any way he so desired. it's a foreign thought that you hated to admit wasn't entirely unwelcomed, as you had never felt it seeing anyone else before.

"i'm not scared of you." you felt the need to assert, knowing damn well that you're lying. if your stomach churning in unease had to say anything about it.

a callous laugh rumbled from price's chest, before his tone shifted to something sinister, "get on your knees."

you sat for a second frozen in place. apparently a second too long for him, as his hand soon tangled itself in your hair and forced you to the ground. you yelped at the force, your knees hitting the ground with a painful thud.

"now, you're going to sit here and take what i'm gonna give you, until you feel like talking to us."

his fingers began to work at his belt, shoving it down along with his trousers to reveal a half hardened dick, already leaking with precum. he didn't bother to wait for you to move, opting to drag your head for you so your soft lips slid along the base of his thick cock.

the slight bit of contact made him groan, peering down at you with half lidded eyes, "open those pretty lips for me, love. and i promise i'll make this less painful for you."

you had no choice but to obey, wrapping your mouth around the tip of his thick cock and drawing a heavy sigh from him. fuck, as much as you didn't want it, you couldn't help the arousal that was beginning to pool in your core, mixing in with your fear and making you positively burn.

he thrusted harshly into your mouth and drew a gag from your throat. he only groaned at the vibrations, using his hand in your hair as leverage to fuck up deeper into you. suddenly overcome with the need to take more of him, to taste more of him, you relaxed your throat as best as you can.

"well, don't take all the fun, cap'." you glanced over to see soap, fisting his own dick in his hands as his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths. you whimpered involuntarily as you briefly forgot the circumstance you were in.

"listen to her whine, johnny. reckon she wants you as well." price chuckled, "that what you want, princess?"

you glared up at him, grasping at straws to hang onto that little bit of dignity you had left. but fuck, if it was hard trying to keep up your act with two men so eager for you.

soap walked over to you, positioning his length in front of your face. you released price's cock with a slick pop! as soap guided you to take him into your mouth with a hand in your hair.

he's a little smaller than price had been, but just as thick. you closed your eyes, mewling as you bobbed your head up and down.

"fuck, her throat feels good, sir." he grunted above you, hips thrusting slightly into your mouth.

"that it does, johnny." price agreed with a chuckle. he crouched down to your height, palming one of your breasts through your thin, long sleeved compression shirt.

"let's get some of these clothes off, hm?" he commented smoothly, before reaching up to your collar and shredding the shirt in half.

you instantly moved to free the member in your mouth to gape at the bearded man beside you in indignation, "what the fuck-"

your words are then muffled by soap shoving his cock back into your mouth with a grunt. you planted your hands on his thighs, trying to urge him to ease up so you could yell at price for exposing you. however, his hips only sped up, his dick moving in and out of your mouth faster.

price snickered at your actions, shoving your bra up to free your breasts, "funny, how you thought you could hide these from us, darling." he sighed, fondling your bare tits with his warm hands.

eventually, he stood back up and placed a hand on soap's chest. the pressure in your throat immediately subsided as the man obediently backed away from you.

"that's enough. look at her, mactavish. looks like she's begging to be ruined, don't you think?"

"looks like she needs to be put in her place, sir." soap panted, broad chest heaving up and down. you stared up at them dumbly from below while you caught your own breath.

"lay down on the table, lovie." you slowly complied with their commands, the chill of the metal freezing against your back. a quiet whine left your throat as you began to feel the wetness pooling in your slick underwear.

soap slotted himself in between your unconsciously spread legs, the overcast of the light above him making him look that much more more threatening. thick fingers hooked themselves under the waistband of your pants in order to eagerly rake them down along with your panties. he tossed your garments onto the floor carelessly.

your legs are then callously spread apart. the man above you groaned thickly as every single inch of you was finally revealed to the two of them. you saw price licking his lips, placing a hand on one of your thighs to keep you splayed open for them.

"we're gonna take turns using you, and if you tell us what we want to know, we'll think about letting you cum." price explained slowly so you can carefully process every word. he moved his hand to your cheek to caress it gingerly, distracting you momentarily before-

soap pushed in with a growl, the intrusion stretching you out painfully as a result from the lack of prep. you let out a heated moan, your legs kicking up against his torso in order to get him to slow down his motions. to your surprise, he decided to take mercy on you and set a moderate pace in order to let you get adjusted to his big length. his cock dragged achingly inside your cunt as you whined in protest.

"none of that now, bonnie." he breathed above you, hands nudging your legs away. he seemed very contented at the feeling of your slick walls wrapped around him, muttering expletives under his breath.

you eventually managed to get adjusted to the stretch, whining as the pull of his member deliberately began to feel good. he sped up his thrusts gradually, quickly working you up to your peak. your pleasure climbed higher and higher, moans ripping themselves free from your chest.

"let's try this again. who do you work for?"

"fuck- fuck you."

soap's hand reached down between your bodies to work at your clit, rubbing pleasurable circles that drew endless whines from your lips. you began to feel that familiar knot in your stomach tightening as pleasure raked all throughout your body. you squeezed around him, shutting your eyes tightly and preparing for a harsh orgasm when-

he pulls out all of a sudden, his fingers promptly withdrawing from your pussy. your cunt ached at the sudden emptiness. you cried out in distress, feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to fade away.

"y'wanna come?"

"yes!" you argued, hands reaching down to try and pull him back towards you. he obliged you with a dark chuckle, but refused to slide his length back inside you.

"then you're gonna tell us who put you on that mission. or you're never gonna feel that sweet release."

"like i'm ever gonna tell you- fuck!" you cried out in pain as a sharp slap! landed on your pussy at your response.

"try again, bonnie." soap sneered, finally sliding back into you. you sobbed as his harsh thrusts started up again, easing you right back into that pleasurable haze. before you knew it, you were barreling closer and closer into another orgasm. you panted as you felt yourself tighten around him again, preparing to gush all over his cock.

however, that climax is crudely stolen from you as well. as well the one after that, and the one after that.

before you knew it, you were forced to endure a brutal fucking while countless of your orgasms were ruined. your chest heaved as your body bounced up and down the length of the table, then stilled as soap pulled out of you to reject your orgasm yet again.

desperation for your release began to take hold in your brain. you could physically feel your resolve beginning to crack, your mind frantically casting out any amounts of rationale to make room for just how badly you needed to cum.

later, when you're sitting in that cold jail cell, you'll curse yourself to hell for what you were about to utter in the spur of the moment. but at that minute, when your pussy was beginning to hurt from the lack of release, all voices of reason flew from your head as you finally blurted out, "alvarez!"

a wolfish grin stretched against price's face as you continued, "fuck, he knew you guys were getting too close to finding his operation, so he needed me to take out everyone who knew anything! now, please let me cum!" your eyes screwed shut in frustration, panting heavily at your confession.

"knew you had it in 'ya." soap praised with a triumphant grin as he pushed back inside, speeding up his thrusts exactly the way you've been needing.

a brief image of being brutally eliminated by one of alvarez' men for squealing flashed across your mind, but you didn't care.

you just needed to fucking cum.

that knot in your stomach reappeared for what had to be the twentieth time that night, and you sobbed at the waves of pleasure that raked through your body. you're brought closer and closer to that edge, and finally, finally, you came all over his thick cock, soaking his pelvis in your juices. the force of your orgasm ripping through you made you cry out, moaning loudly as he fucked you all throughout your high.

eventually, white hot pleasure turned to overstimulation, and soap retreated with a breathless chuckle when you began to push at his hips.

you barely got a second to breathe, to process the powerful climax you just had, before price replaced johnny between your legs.

"you're not- you're not done?" you gaped in disbelief. you attempted to push him off, knowing any stimulation you would feel after your harsh release would just border on intolerable.

"just a sec, dear. now i have to have you, after seeing you cum like that." his darkened eyes were glazed over with lust as you looked up at him. his cock was red and angry, twitching as he positioned himself over your entrance.

he thrusted all the way inside you with a groan. your pussy ached at the intrusion, his cock reaching even deeper inside of you than soap. he immediately took to an unforgiving pace, prioritizing his pleasure over anything else. tears began to pool at your eyes at the stimulation, but you couldn't deny how good it felt to have a cock fucking you again.

price leaned over you to latch his mouth on one of your nipples, drawing out a long moan from you. high pitched whines left your mouth as his cock bullied its way into your cunt repeatedly.

all of sudden, you felt overwhelming ecstasy again as you unexpectedly released all over his length with a sob. his hips continued fucking into you for a moment, before he finished inside of you with a loud grunt.

the room was devoid of any words for a couple minutes, the only sounds being the harsh breaths coming from you and price. you finally rose from your supine position, sitting up tiredly on the edge of the table to peer at them.

"did good for us, princess." price nodded with a wide smile. "might have to do this again some other time. what d'you say?"

"next time, why don't we invite ghost and gaz over?" soap suggested, the names making your stomach drop in dread. "no way we can keep this cunt all to ourselves."

[writingoddess1125]

Poppy Kisses

Buggy x GNReader

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️: Attempted murder, Manipulation, implied sexual tension, implied future Dubcon

Art by Vamos_MK on Twitter. Check them out!

Please support me Ko-Fi

In and out- That was the job. You'd been asked to murder a certain pirate by a client of yours, He was known as a buffoon and a fool- quite literally it seemed. Buggy the Clown, Captian of The Buggy Pirates. Always failing at his task but getting closer to his goals non the less, apparently he had ruffled some feathers non the less.

Which was why you were hired, asked to join his crew and kill him. Being a skilled shooter made it easy for you to join his crew, however killing him was a different story-

In truth was harder then it seemed to nail this guy- You couldn't stab him for obvious reasons, he was too cautious to go near water and you couldn't risk shooting him since it was loud and you'd risk death by his surprisingly loyal crew.

So you had to get close.. which was just as hard as finding a way to Kill Buggy. He didn't trust easy- He was quite plainly pathetic as a pirate but clever in ways you'd never imagined.

It was awful to say but you hard started to like.. hell even love the goofy bastard? He was fun in a scary way and with him trusting you, you got to see this new side to him.

He watched everyone, including you with hawk like accuracy. Anything even slightly off he could catch and any attitude changes he would immediately notice and question- Who knew this clown would be your biggest challenge.

It took nearly a month before he got comforble around you, playing the act of a wannabe fan of his and an additional two months before he had seemingly started to like you- Clearly his ego finally winning out at your fawning of him.

Soon he was letting you sit in his lap, him telling you stories of his adventures and his past as a pkrate. How he would take your input on his shows and what was needed from your perspective, letting his hand drift to your waist as he would whisper jokes in your ear and drawing true laughs from you.

Sure it started out as a mission but- soon it turned into real enjoyment from your end. So a mission that should have taken 3-4 months tops was pushing on 6... but who could blame you! It was just too damn fun there with Buggy!

Sitting in your room you stared down at the tin canister in your hands, it was a potent poison jell. You rubbed it on anything and it'd dry clear which would work since you noticed Buggy used the same glass cup, claiming it was good luck or something... it was a perfect device to poison Buggy but now- you didn't know if you could.. he had been so kind to you, Even getting you a private room which most crewmates didn't have. Even if it was a bit small and as Buggy had said formally used as a makeup room which explained the large mirrors on the wall. You still knew he had given you space cause he cared..

"Fuck.."

You sighed as the small snail rang in your pocket, pulling it out you cringed knowing who it was and you sadly answered. Wincing at the angered voice of your client rushed into your ears yelling at you for taking so long-

"What am I paying you for?" Your client hissed. "I-I know we had some hic-" You got cut off by the raised voice.

"Hiccup!? He's a fucking idiot! Tonight is the last night or else I'm putting a hit on you" they yelled before disconnecting the call.

"tonight..." You mumbled. Rubbing your face as you stashed the snail away, stress bubbling in your chest as you sat there.

This was your job...

Slipping the casaster in your pocket you get up to Visit Buggy's room, Something you often did anyway so you didn't bother knocking.

"Hey Bugs?" You call out, seeing the Captian seated at his vanity finishing his makeup.

"Hell Doll! What brings you in?" He says cheerfully, you shrug and plop down on a chair.

"I wanted to stop by and say Hi before we head to dinner" You lie, but the smile it brought to Buggys lips made your heart flutter. Soon you two began to mindlessly chatter as Buggy finished his makeup, you handing him his hat once finished.

"Shit. I forgot my bandana in the map room. I'm going to grab it real quick, I'll be back" He said with a bright smile before leaving. Your eyes traveling to the glass cup- you knew this was your only chance..

You didn't want to do this, You couldnt do this... Paid killer or not when do you find someone like him? Just some fun clown guy who's weird humor actually makes you laugh!?

Walking to the vanity you sat down, still warm from him and slipped on some gloves. Picking up the glass cup and groaning in frustration at the situation.

Forcing your eyes closed you look at yourself in the mirror, feeling like he could see you or you were seeing yourself for the first time.

Sighing you feel a tears start to slip down your cheeks as you place the coated cup down and took off your gloves. Hiding it away as you looked at yourself again, regret on your face-

"...it's your job- love aside" You reasoned before getting the canister and quickly coating a thin layer of the gel inside. Watching how it dried almost instantly and looking undetectable like it had been only polished.

"Please forgive me... I really do care for you Buggy..." You whisper a prayer before backing away at your placed trap, trying to wipe the tears from your eyes and maks if look like you hadnt been crying.

After a few moments Buggy returned to the room with a cheerful smile on his face.

You couldn't do this, as you watch him pour the wine and get ready to bring it to his lips you got up ready to reach for it when he paused- Looking up at your raised form as you prepared to take the cup from him.

"Ready for dinner?" He chimed, you nodding as you watch him grab the glass from its usual spot. Nodding silently as you followed him to the mess hall, You heart pounding as you sat in your usual seat. Food laid out buffet style over the large table as Buggy took center seat like a king- Your head spinning as you stared at the glass. Watching him make his plate before reaching for the pitcher of wine..

"Change of heart?" He said, making you freeze in your raised spot.

He clicked his tongue as he lowered the glass from his lips, His eyes staring right at you with a knowing smirk on his lips. A chill going down your spine- he had never given you a look like that before.. it was like looking at the waters before a beast rose and took your life. He wiped his lips with a napkin just incase any traces of poison had hit his lips.

"I really expected better from you (Y/N)- even after all this time you would have let the berry win huh? But your feelings really did win in the end" He mused and you felt ice flood your vains.. he knew.. he fucking knew!

Looking around you see the crew all staring at you, a knowing look on their faces as they stared at you and their captian.

"I thought your words of 'I really care for you' and 'Love aside' was just part of the act but look at that!" He rose to his feet as you sat back down slowly, fear now lacing your heart as the realization slammed into your chest.

"One way Mirror, Works wonders both in the bedroom and in shows" He chimed. He was watching you- The whole damn time! He was watching you, from the calls to your client to your hesitation to complete the job. He knew.

Fear slammed hard into you and it felt like you were suffocating as he went to circle you like prey, his footsteps seeming so loud in the mess hall now.

Your feet moved faster then your brain- you ran out of the mess hall as the sound of laughter from the crew followed you. You had to get out of here you had to before he killed you!

"Now then, (Y/N) tell me- when do assassins cry for their targets?"

In a flash you jumped back from your seat like it was on fire and ran.

A yelp escaping your throat as you felt your collar being yanked back and lifted into the air. You struggled like a kitten being pulled up by the scruff from its mother and glanced up to see Buggy's floating hand holding you. Reaching next to you ready to stab his hand another gloved hand appeared right infront of your eyes and squeezed a red ball, coughing as the fight started to leave your body and soon you fell unconscious.

When the darkness faded you felt dizzy- like the world was spinning? Groaning softly at the feeling, before the realization that fabric had been placed in your mouth. This seemed to immediately sober you up as you looked around frantically- you were back in Buggy's bed, wrists tied to the bedpost and gagged, legs tied down with blue sill scarves and all your equipment laid out on the floor next to the bed. Buggy standing over it all examining it, he looked up hearing you move.

"Ah you're awake. Good I was beginning to worry that I made that Muggy Ball too strong"

You shook as you sat on the bed you once would have loved to be in, Watching Buggy as he Lossened his hair from the bandana. His blue locks falling down and framing his face as he stepped closer to the bed.

He said calmly as he rose up, watching you struggle and try to yell through the gag. He chuckled at this and patted your leg playfully.

"I wouldn't struggle. I don't think you can handle being knocked out again"

He said in amusement, removing his shirt and vest with ease revealing his naked chest- Due to years of training and his devil fruit abilties leaving him lean and flawless of marks. Just like how you had imagined.

"Got to say, I'm really impresses. With all the equipment in that little kill kit of yours I'm sure you could have done the job easily- But a painless poison that would let me sleep and die peacefully?.. it's almost too kind... whats it called? Poppy Kisses right?"

Warmth flooded your face and body as you watch him crawl closer to you- Seating himself right on your waist as he smiled down at you brightly, tapping a finger to your chest with a gleam in his eyes. He looked beautiful, terrifying but beautiful.

"Must have been hard, I saw your face.. you looked so hurt using that posion"

"So complicated.. So much trouble you are- So expensive too. Do you know how much I had to pay to your guild in order to make them say you died trying to murder me?"

He smirked as he began undo the buttons of your shirt. Your eyes widening in shock as he spoke and began to undress you.

"You're so lucky I like you~"

He purred, before placing a slow kiss on your cheeks. You felt the red grease paint smear and stain against it, accidently letting a moan slip the gag as his fingers pulled your hair, which he clearly reveled in. Leaving your wanting his lips as he traveled to your jaw, ear and further down.

His fingers working deeper into your hair as he removed the shirt from your body fully- the cold making you shiver at his warmed touch as red kisses blot your neck.

"Now my daring little assassin, I do believe some compensation is in order for all those expenses. Don't you?~"

[red-velvet-muffin]

This is brutally rushed but I had this thought and I needed to share it with the class 😵‍💫😵‍💫

CW: panic attack, derealisation‼️

But after that just comfort

(Also I know it’s not very consistent I wrote that completely sleep deprived)

Simon having a panic attack post mission and Johnny being sweet and oblivious

Simon wasn’t one to give physical affection. He ignored it when it was his captains little pats or Gaz’ cheeky elbow nudges because it was just what they always did, it was nothing special.

He knew not to ask for it, knew he had a reputation to uphold.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t crave it.

He didn’t know the last time someone actually touched him.

Might have been his mother, it’s really been that long…

So when he arrives back at base after a mission, he doesn’t know what to do with the adrenaline. With the stress of the mission, the men they’d lost.

He took it to his quarters.

He just couldn’t face anyone right now.

Every pair of eyes was staring

Mouths screaming

Hands reaching

His clothes suffocated him

His tongue was heavy

His-

He reached his private quarters. The door slammed shut and he was already on the floor, shaky hands tearing his straps and armour and kit off, mask off, just needed the tightness to stop-

He breathed heavily, although it sounded more like sobbing, hands tangled in his hair, eyes pressed shut as he broke down.

This was nothing new.

Every time he returned from a mission it was the same.

He couldn’t dare go to anyone, he just couldn’t, so he locked himself in and rode down the outcome alone.

Because nobody would help. Nobody would come nobody would helpnobodywasthere-

“Simon?”

That bloody Scottish accent rang through the door and Simon’s heart jumped from the sudden voice.

Shit shit shit-

He rubbed his eyes, probably hard enough to pop a vessel, before getting up taking a deep breath and opening the door.

The last thing he needed was anyone in his personal space, he needed space, he needed-

“Jesus- fuck, Simon, coulda warned me I might fall in love”

Johnny grinned stupidly with wide eyes.

Ghost realised too late his mask was very much still somewhere across the room wherever it landed after being thrown midst his scheduled panic attack.

Normally he’d immediately cover his face. Normally he wouldn’t have taken off his mask in the first place.

But here he was, bare faced, looking at Johnny practically eye-fucking him and barely registering it.

Why didn’t he care?

Why did Simon’s head feel so empty when it was screaming at him a minute ago? An article popped into his head that he once read, something about a think called derealisation, but it was a vague thing he couldn’t hold onto.

“Uhm… is that all you’re here for or do you need something?” Was that his voice? That didn’t feel like his…

Johnny frowned.

“You feeling alright? Call me rude but you don’t look too bonnie there lt”

Goddamned Scott and his ability to read Simon like a book.

“Just here to see if you’re feeling okay after the mission. Been a rough one on all of us…”

Hmm, caring, too.

“Simon?”

Oh right. He was talking to him.

“Nothing a good bourbon can’t fix” he finally responded.

“So he’s an alcoholic, eh?” Johnny attempted at humour. “Can’t have you drinking all by yourself. Can I come in?”

Ghost just stepped aside, not bothering for any other kind of response.

Johnny barely waited before bursting through the door and making himself comfortable on his bed.

hmm. Bastard

“Yer quiet, Simon. Talk tae me”

“You don’t wanna know, Johnny” he grumbled back, looking for his mask. How did it get under his desk?

“Ya take a hug at least?”

…

Simon must have frozen so abruptly it was scary.

“Ah Jesus Christ. Got it, no hugs” Johnny laughed. What a pretty laugh…

“I’d like a hug”

What are you doing, get your shit together

Johnny looked perplexed. “Sorry?”

“Hug me before i change my mind”

“Well shit, wouldn’t miss that chance” and Johnny got up, walked over to him and just… embraced him.

No malicious intentions, no hurt, just reassurance.

Just warmth.

Ghost practically melted, he’s not proud of it.

There was no war, there were no dead men, there was no pain, no death,

Just Johnny.

Ghost took a deep breath through his nose, revelling in the calming scent of unmistakable MacTavish.

He doesn’t know how long they stayed that way, it was never long enough, but he must have looked pathetic when Johnny let go of him, hair a mess, eyeblack still smudged on his face, face red and eyes teary but he felt so… safe.

…

“Alright you tell anyone about this I’m shaving your mowhawk.”

“Copy that, lieutenant”

And the man was out the door. When did it get easier to breathe?

Simon sighed but couldn’t fight the grin tugging on the corner of his mouth.

Goddamn Scott