#old chain for girls with price

[bunny-jpeg]

lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

[lovifie]

Price had a young girlfriend and did not tell anybody until he decided to get married...

He probably didn't tell them until the night before the wedding…He asked them to come over for a little celebration and everyone expected a middle-aged woman. But when they saw a girl in her mid-20s opening the door with Price they were shocked

Soap probably even asked if she's his stepdaughter LOL

Hey, love!! 💗💗

I wrote you a little something...

I hope you like it 💗

❤️Mr. & Mrs. Price❤️

Fluff | Sugestive | 1547 words | Back to Masterlist

They were having a pint at a pub close to base when he told them. 

“I'm getting married next Saturday, you have the weekend free, so drop by so I can introduce you to the missus.”

Now, Ghost wasn't surprised he didn't know about his captain having a girlfriend, let alone a relationship serious enough to talk about marriage. What surprised Ghost was that neither Soap nor Gaz knew about it. 

“Married?!” Gaz asked, loud enough to make some people turn their heads. 

Price furrows his eyebrow, surprised by the reaction as if he had just told them about what he's having from breakfast. 

“I didnae ken ye had a pretty bird waiting for ye at home, Captain!” Soap says, just as loud.

“Yeah, I have for a couple of years now.” Price simply answers, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a sip.

“A couple of years?!” The three men ask in unison like a bad comedic joke. 

A chain of questions starts to unravel, curiosity for the mysterious woman pouring out; but Price waves his hand shutting them up. “No point in that, you are meeting her this weekend, easier that way”

They begrudgingly agree, keeping to themselves the mental image of the possible woman. She must be around Price's age, so between 40 and 50 years old; knowing how little the man likes to go out they probably met at work so she must be military too. Stern woman. 

Price tells them that is something minor, the close family and a bunch of friends; that they can join at the reception at his house and to dress nicely. 

“No ghost mask.” He chastises the man pointing at him. “I don't want work involved, alright?”

During the week until the wedding, they keep thinking about her, about how she must look like, her personality, her age, her eye colour.

“What do you think she'll look like?”

“In my mind, she's like Laswell… but being into men.”

And out of every possibility and different mental image, the last thing they expected was the pretty thing that opened the door for them on Saturday. 

Pretty little thing, around 25 years old, with the kindest smile on her face even when looking at the three giants on her doorframe, flowy white dress, little hair strands framing her cute face with the rest of it gathered up in an intricate updo in the back hold together with shiny pins and a silky bow. 

“Oh, you must be John's friends.” You say, voice sweet as an angel. “Please, come in, don't just stand there. I'm gonna go get him, be back in a second”

You step back, holding the door open for them, inviting them in and once inside you close the door, walking past them to reach their captain who is looking in the opposite direction, talking to somebody else.

“That must be the stepdaughter… right?” Soap asks what all of them are thinking. 

They stare as you walk up to Price, placing your hand on his lower back making him turn to look at you; a wide smile appearing immediately. He leans forward, his arm moving behind your shoulder and his hand keeping your jaw in place as he kisses you. 

Lips crashing against yours, closing his eyes and letting his tongue into your mouth tasting the champagne you were drinking just a moment ago. A passionate, sloppy kiss that would make a maiden blush at the impropriety of it even for the newlyweds.

“Mate, I sure fucking hope she's not.” Gaz answers after a moment.

The two of you finally pull back, telling Price about his friends arriving and he looks behind you to see them. He smiles, not as wide as when he looked at you, and gives you a quick peck before walking to the door. 

“Welcome, lads. Thank you for coming.” He says simply, crossing his arms and looking proud. You appear from behind him, hand resting on his arm slightly leaning to his side.

“Do you want anything to drink? To eat?” You ask softly, love pouring out of Price's eyes as he looks down on you. 

“I'll help you.” Ghost says, a curl of his lips you could identify as a smile if you wanted to. And once the captain is left with the sergeants, the attack starts. 

“How does an old churl like you manages to get a pretty thing like her?”

“Where do you even meet a doll like her?”

“How many years have you exactly been dating for?”

Ghost clears his throat when he turns around the corner on his way back, with you chirping on his side about how happy you are to finally meet them. He has a more natural smile on his face now, clearly infected with your enthusiasm. 

Price finally introduces you to them, exchanging everyone's name. You hug both the sergeants and shake Ghost's hand, the man glad that you made the observation of his lack of appreciation towards body contact. 

After a little chat, you excuse yourself; promising to get back in a while wanting to talk to your own friends still waiting around the room. It leaves Price on his own and that's when he tells the nosy men how he met you. 

You were his neighbour, sharing half the walls of the old flat he house to live in before moving in together. How he introduced himself to you one day when he saw you leaving your house, how he told you he was military so you wouldn't freak out if you saw him in the middle of the night or suddenly disappeared for months, how after a specially long deployment he got back and you dropped by hours later with a bunch of tupperwares with homemade food “I assumed you would be tired, it's nothing special but I'll save you the hustle of cooking”, about how he had wanted to marry you ever since, how he gave you the tupperwares back one by one so he had more reasons to talk to you, how he finally asked you out with the last one and how after that it all was easy between you two.

The four of them swiftly move to sit down on the kitchen table, Price still telling them everything about you and the relationship. Ghost is just as invested as the other two, trying to play it off as polite interest. Slowly and smoothly people leave the house as the day goes by, the sun having set a couple of hours ago; and you walk into the kitchen, sitting on Price's lap with a sigh. 

“I know it isn't proper of a good host, but these shoes are killing me.” You announce looking at the three men as you bend down and take them off, a sigh of comfort leaving your mouth as you lean back on Price. “I'm also sure you have endurance worse than some stinky feet.” You joke with a tiny chuckle making them smile. 

“Everyone gone, darling?” Price asks, his hands resting on your lap as you nod smiling. He looks up to the boys as he says. “Better to tidy up then”

“Jonathan Price, don't be rude!” You exclaim looking at him. “They are your friends and there are more than enough rooms for them if they want to spend the night. They have been drinking too!”

“Mrs. Price.” John says with a teasing tone, standing up and helping you stand. “Talk to me for a second, love.”

Price bends down to pick your shoes up, holding your hand to walk you to the living room. They hear the two of you whispering back and forth, then silence and lastly the unmistakable sound of kisses. They peak behind the door, managing to see you sitting in the backrest of the sofa with Price standing between your legs, grinding his hips against yours. You moan softly against his lips, before pulling back and whispering something they can't make out; Price pulls back as well and they sit back on their chairs. 

Price walks in just a second later. “Lads… thank you for coming, I'll see you when I'm back from the honeymoon, now… OUT!” He barks the last word making Soap chuckle as they all finish their drink in a gulp and start to walk out of the house, congratulating Price on the marriage and walking out one by one; meanwhile, you remain completely out of sight for them.

“They gone?” You ask for the top of the stairs, looking at Price with a smile. 

“Yep.” Price says locking the door.

“You didn't have to kick them out like that, though.” You say cocking your head with a smile.

“Oh, yes, I did.” He says, turning around to start to walk up the stairs. 

“Why? Afraid they might join?” You say winking at him, making him laugh before he throws you over his shoulder making you shriek.

“Wouldn't you like that, you little minx!” He jokes, landing a smack on your asscheek. 

You gasp dramatically holding onto his clothes. “It's Mrs. Price to you, young man.”

He chuckles, making your body shake, before he throws you down on the bed; him instantly crawling on top of you. 

“Who's your husband, darling?”

“You, Mr. Price.”

A bit more of this

[gutsby]

Cabin Fever

Pairing: Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader

Summary: Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.

Warnings: 18+. DEAD DOVE: DNE. NONCONSENSUAL. I’m never ever beating the insane bitch allegations, I fear. Protector-turned-pervert-turned-unwilling-captor-kinda. Corruption kink. Daddy kink. Somnophilia. Misogyny. “It’s too big; it won’t fit” + Joel “I’ll make it fit” Miller. Captivity on both ends. Oral (f!receiving). Gunplay. Oversimplified first-time anal. Uno Reverse Drugging. Evil, inexperienced reader meets evil, feral, slutty Joel. Attempted murder x3. Russian Roulette…as foreplay?

Notes: Both characters SUCK. I condone nothing they do. Please do not take any of their behavior or language to reflect my own moral predilections. That is all 🚬😵‍💫

You were hardly shaking at all when he’d found you chained, maimed, and frozen half to death on the plains.

He didn’t see that every day, that was for-fucking-sure.

Joel Miller barely got to see his share of happy, grinning girls on the cold and bitter frontier he inhabited. Ones that were tied to posts and clinging to life were even less common, so the sight of you there had almost frightened him at first. He’d approached you like one might advance upon a sleeping bear: with the utmost caution and a Winchester Model 70 levelled directly at your head.

He’d learned you were unarmed and defenseless in less than a second. He’d come to realize you were largely unconscious—and unclothed—even sooner than that.

He had been industrious in freeing your hands and feet from their restraints but never uttered a word as he did.

Even on the two-and-a-half mile trek back home, he hadn’t spoken once. You’d hung off his left shoulder like a pretty, frosted slab of meat, covered only with the sherpa blanket he’d secured around your neck, and dangled precariously down his back for the entire fifty minutes.

Your toes were two shades shy of onyx with frostbite.

Your limbs were hanging like lead over his chest.

A whisper of, ‘You’ll be fine, darlin’, I promise’ had just seemed ill-suited for the circumstances and his nature. In truth, Joel didn’t know if you’d be fine. You might die. The blood wouldn’t be on his hands one way or the other, but he never had liked burying bodies this time of year. He’d have to wait until April to break ground, at least.

Presently, he dropped your limp form to the floor of his cabin and hoped he wouldn’t be needing to bury anyone.

You sort of looked charming in the firelight.

He stomped off to the kitchen and began rifling for pans, preparing to defrost the icy stranger as best he could.

You didn’t die.

You didn’t wake for forty full hours, but you didn’t die.

When you stirred on the floor with warm sherpa around your shoulders and a rough calfskin rug under your ass, you thought you had died—maybe taken a pit stop in cowpoke purgatory while you were at it—but then you blinked. Breathed. Realized you were still very much inside your body and most likely still in Wyoming.

You sat up where you were and looked around.

“Da-a-d?”

You knew it was useless, calling for your father.

He had been dead almost eight months; you just wanted to double-check to make sure you were still on earth.

When dead dad didn’t answer, you tried someone else.

“Momma?”

Still no answer.

Figured, since she was among the ones that had left you chained outside in the first place. It’d been worth a shot.

You started to rise from your place, when a sharp pain in your side made you plop back down on the rug. You winced and lifted the blanket, then your old nightie.

A neat little taped-down bandage had your ribs encased in antiseptics and gauze. You frowned down at a stain in the centre, which looked to you an awful lot like blood. That circle of old fluids must’ve been twice the size of your fist and currently oozing tiny, fresh beads of blood from the strain you’d just exerted. You pursed your lips.

Least they could’ve done is kill me, not leave me here.

You’d take it up with your old would-be assassins another day, you were sure. Right now, you were parched, starving, in dire need of a piss, and reeling on the floor to grab hold of something sturdy to lift yourself. But you were as much a child then as you had ever been, swaying in place and clawing at air like someone who’d never kept their balance before. Or might’ve been drunk.

You rolled onto your good side and cast a sweeping look around the cabin. You smelled slow-cooked barbecue.

Thank fuck, you thought.

Now, if I were a juicy rack of ribs, where would I be?

The kitchen was dark and empty; the smell was coming from elsewhere. You craned your neck, tilted your chin, spotted a loft overhead but figured it wasn’t too likely to find someone grilling up there, so where the hell was it?

And who the hell was it, smoking meats and mending up strangers in the cold and lonely dead of winter like this?

You put a pin in that thought as you searched for a place to pee.

By the time you’d hobbled out of the bathroom, the smoky smell had grown even stronger. It was so pungent it bordered on vertiginous, invading every inch of the cabin with a force. Then it was leading you, teasing you by turns to venture outside. All you had on your feet were some oversized socks and two strips of medical tape.

Against your better judgment, you continued to hobble.

Out the door, down the steps, slowly, then following your nose and the first whiff of smoke you smelled to make it to the place you were almost certain you needed to be.

You trudged around a corner of the cabin’s exterior and stopped. Turned around. Cursed your own senses for being so stupid to miss the huge fucking shed spewing smoke out front—or was it the back?—and plodded on.

Your feet might have carried you a third of the way there before your powers of sight and sound eventually failed you again, and you missed another big something.

Big and beige and coated in snow—baring its teeth and snarling at the unfamiliar presence as soon as it saw you.

The next thing you knew, sixty-two pounds of Belgian Malinois had had you knocked to the ground in less than a second. You hardly understood what had hit you until it was barking and chomping away an inch from your face.

You fought hard and frantic to shove the ugly fucker off, but your bandaged hands were no match for its paws. The dog continued to tear at your blanket, nip at your ears, claw at your neck, and all around snuff out any sense of peace you might have acquired in the dozen-odd minutes since you’d first woken up. You screamed.

You yelled as loud as you could and felt yourself cower and sink lower into the snow as you fought.

Just when you tried to raise a knee—to kick the animal in the ribs or else protect your own—a sound broke out above the buzz.

A voice, clear as day:

“CUJO!”

The dog stalled on top of you a moment, just to be yanked off the next, and the closest thing afterward was a face—kinder than Cujo’s but not by very much.

It was a broad, bearded, pock-marked head with more soot to recommend itself than skin. Lips smeared with ash and grime and curved down in the single most decisive frown you’d seen in your life, the man looked to be beside himself seeing you tits up in the snow.

He gripped one arm of yours, then dropped it.

Picked a leg up, paused, then hauled you into a cradle carry as graceless as you’d ever felt it done before.

“Come!” he snapped, and it took you too long to realize that he was talking to the dog. You’d already wrapped your arms around his neck in abrupt complaisance.

He carried you back into the cabin and kicked the door open in front of you. He held you firm for a second, then, just as he had outside, changed course before you knew what to do and was shortly depositing you on the sofa.

You winced when your ass hit the cushion.

You started to sit, grab a pillow for your back or just bring your knees to your chest, when suddenly a palm was pressing flat on your front. Forcing you to lie down.

“Hey, hey!” you cried when the man started lifting the hem of your nightgown.

If he’d heard you at all, he didn’t show it. He just worked his thick, dirty fingers under the fabric and raised the white satin like he might the hood of a car. He frowned.

It was then that you noticed a blooming red splotch on your side, slowly overtaking the terra-cotta color of dried blood on the bandage and spreading out. Then a pain.

Instead of pushing the man’s hands away, you were holding them tight, wrestling that same touch which was trying to keep you from poking around the area now.

“Quit,” the man said, sedate as could be.

“Hurts,” was all you could think to tell him—and you guessed he’d already had that part down by the outpouring of blood. He shoved your hands off.

The brand new crimson hue had already soaked through the bandage. He pulled it off. You caught a glimpse of a wound that seemed to be weeping through its stitches—oozing pus and blood and a gore you could’ve gone your whole life without seeing. You would’ve liked to run a couple gentle, awed fingers over it, but as it was, your coarse and tight-lipped medic wouldn’t let you.

“Hold still,” he commanded.

“Heystopstopstop!” you implored him, feeling a streak of pain up your side as his calloused hands delved deeper.

At your latest flinch and plea, the man seemed to have had enough. Or just needed to angle your body in a different direction for easier access to the site. He gathered you back up in his arms and walked over to the kitchen, where he set you down again on the counter. Hands moved to your hips, briefly, to push you back on the surface and allow him to stand between your legs. Again, the man frowned as he peeled off your pyjamas.

Two warring fears of pain and overexposure fought like wild beasts in your brain for a second—you yelping and trying to cover your breasts in a hurry, then realizing how much it hurt to lift your arms that way when your ribs were dripping blood, then the man making the decision for you both as he pushed your hands behind your back and said a simple ‘Fuck’s sake’ to keep you pinned.

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it, and you let him continue, because you knew that you didn’t know shit about doing this yourself.

Joel must’ve fixed your dressings fourteen times before turning you loose. He’d had you perched atop his counter like goddamned Prisoner-of-War Barbie, all riddled with bumps, bruises, and lesions galore, looked your body up and down just once, and nearly grew sick at the sight.

He’d disgusted himself by feeling as aroused as he was.

Shortly thereafter, he’d toted you off—before the blood could rush down to his dick and start to swell—shrugged your gown over your torso, and stepped away. Simple.

Then you’d had to go and throw a wrench in his plans.

“What if I need to pee?” you’d said as soon as Joel started up the stairs with you in his arms again.

He had meant to drop you off on the bed in the loft, out of sight, but it seemed you were more concerned about the prospect of traversing the steps up and down for potty breaks. Joel had audibly huffed above you.

“I can leave a bucket.”

“Yu-uck.” The latter word had been given two syllables to show the full extent of your disgust, like a child might do.

And that was how you’d ended up here: snug in his bed on the ground floor, curled up in more layers of flannel and wool than you could count and staring blankly up at the man who was standing cold and aloof off to the side.

Your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep.

He figured they would be.

Joel picked up the glass that sat beside your empty one on the nightstand and drank, watching you all the while.

“D’you know my momma?” you asked, voice sounding extra small coming from the depths of your cocoon.

Joel finished his drink in four big gulps.

“Sure hope not,” he said once he’d set it back down.

By the sight of the scars he’d found littering your hands and back alone, Joel was able to surmise you’d come from a pretty rough, ragtag group. Maybe even Raiders. Knowing folks like that simply never struck one’s fancy, so he’d been honest. You might’ve argued, or laughed, if you hadn’t been nabbed so tightly in the grips of those first stages preceding sleep, so instead, you nodded.

“Figured,” you mumbled.

7:11, Joel read on the clock. You’d finished your drink at seven, or somewhere thereabouts. Judging by your size, it wouldn’t take long at all for the medicine to take effect.

‘Medicine,’ Joel thought, sounded a whole hell of a lot better than ‘drugs.’ One was meant to rehabilitate, rejuvenate, bring new life to your worn and weary bones. The other would just knock you cold and keep you there.

On second thought, those were definitely drugs Joel had just slipped in your water before giving it to you to drink.

As your eyes blinked from closed, to open, to closed, then open but slightly less open than the time before, and closed again, he felt a sick sense of accomplishment twist in his gut. If only his former-nurse friend could have seen what he was doing with those morphine sulfate tablets he’d traded for—he likely would’ve slapped Joel across the face. And Joel would’ve smiled all the same.

Yeah, okay, drugging the unsuspecting and defenseless female he’d just saved from death’s doorstep two days ago didn’t look great on paper, he would fully concede.

But this was all in good fun.

Great fun, even.

For him.

“Sick fuck,” Joel muttered as he started to undo his belt. The button and zip were taken apart just as fast, and with two steps, he was standing at your bedside—his bedside—and tugging his trousers down his legs. He took his cock in his hand and glanced over at the clock.

7:15.

He nudged your shoulder.

7:16.

Peeling layers of blanket away from your body.

7:17.

“Hey…honey?”

A lot more nothing from the girl sleeping in front of him. He shrugged his jeans to the floor, kicked them off at his feet, and moved onto the bed. You just looked so sweet.

Joel tried working around the fabric of his boxers but got impatient pretty quick. He hauled those off, too.

Soon, his beefy, bare, and surprisingly tan legs were bracketing your hips as he stroked himself above you. His eyes roamed the lax and tranquil features undeniably characteristic of sleep, and he pumped himself faster. Really, there was no need for theatrics or enhancements now—he was already hard as three tonnes of steel—but Joel would be lying if he said he didn’t like the build-up.

You were no longer in danger of dying, thanks to him. You were slowly but surely on the mend, no thanks to Cujo at all, but many thanks to him, Joel Miller, the man who had pried you off of that post, pulled you out of your chains, ushered warmth back into your limbs, and stitched up your side out of the goodness of his heart.

Any objective onlooker could see that you’d availed yourself of his medical attention and aid without ever asking, so why should he request access to you now? This was the way of the world these days, anyway. Sex was no longer so much a question as it was an answer in most scenarios—a mere transaction, wherein the physically weaker of two parties was forced to capitulate. Not within the four unsullied walls of Jackson and a few other pockets of homestead communities here and there, but on the whole, absolutely. Jackson was down the road a ways away and sufficiently far enough from Joel’s cabin for him to be disentangled from their rules. What mattered now was obtaining what he was owed.

Still, the man hesitated a half-second longer above you. He jerked his cock even faster and felt his stomach start to clench. Was that? No—nerves were fucking juvenile. Getting close to cumming from just the sight of you alone was for chumps. Joel Miller was no chump.

He lifted your nightie and lowered the head of his cock to rest between your folds. Then he shifted his knees so that he could rub himself gently against your warmth.

Joel Miller was a monster, but he was no brute. He also understood female anatomy well enough to know that, well…wetter was better. He started moving his hips.

You exhaled through your nose. Nothing major; you probably hadn’t even felt him long enough to whine.

Joel planted a hand beside your head—a preemptive warning.

“There…” He liked to talk as though you could hear him. Like you might be semi-conscious and dimly aware of what he was doing to you then, “Right there…ah, baby.”

He never did catch your name.

That was no matter. So long as you stayed put and made a nice, wet, pretty little hole for him to fuck, you would be fine. By the feel of your folds alone, he could tell you’d be a fun thing to use. Soft and snug and plied with drugs, you could do, and be, anything he damn well needed.

Or maybe nothing at all, he thought without humor.

Joel brushed your cheek with the knuckles of his free hand and watched you turn away, making a face. He snagged your chin and tilted it back to him, sharply, before gliding those fingers down your chest, then your tummy, then your hips, then dipping between your legs. He found your clit and pressed it with a deliberate touch.

“Hey,” Joel whispered, again, as though you might hear, “You’re gonna stay still and let me do this.”

Your nose scrunched in response, thighs clamping together. Joel pried them apart with one push and continued sliding his cock back and forth. He grunted.

“Gonna let me take what’s mine, hear?”

You didn’t hear much of anything, he suspected, but he asked the question all the same. At least now your legs were staying open and he could rut himself gently into that space without having to keep them spread. A first, gentle ‘mmph’ sounded from your lips, and he was glad. He kept thumbing that spot he knew you would like and rubbing along the seam of your cunt with his erection.

Then Joel felt a weight on his shoulders. Remorse? No. Anxiety? Perhaps. This felt more like a fog, though, seizing his muscles and seeping gently between the grooves of his brain. He gave his head a fierce shake.

“Hold still,” he said, more to himself; you hadn’t moved.

Joel fisted the base of his cock and angled the tip toward your entrance, caring much less whether you were ready or not now that his desires had grown stronger.

He was met with resistance on trying to push in. He dug his fingers in the pillow beneath your head and scowled.

“Quit…clenchin’…like that. Ain’t…fair to me,” he huffed.

He was one to talk.

Now, he’d been with a staggering number of women, experiences ranging all across the spectrum, but even the tightest, most untouched pieces of ass he’d ever tapped had given way more than this. Your walls were unyielding, refusing to give him entry. Joel cursed and rutted his hips in a rough, entirely unsuccessful, thrust.

You hummed in response, eyes still closed, one hand fumbling mindlessly for something to hold. Joel seized it.

“Not lettin’ you off that easy, darlin’, I—”

“Fuck,” you breathed, followed by a low whimper.

Joel froze. Had you heard him? Felt him just now?

Something about the uncertainty laden in those questions sent his mind into overdrive, heart beating a wild cadence in his chest. He realized then that his mouth had gone dry, his vision was skewed just slightly on the outskirts. And his cock was throbbing.

“Ya like that?” Joel seethed, not thinking, still rubbing, “Like givin’ daddy a hard time before lettin’ him in?”

“Uh-huh.” Softly.

You little slut. He knew it all along.

Whatever it was that kept your body from being coupled with his was almost immaterial to him now. Joel’s mind was swimming with desire, cock dragging in desperate, fitful bursts between your legs, never penetrating but still wringing massive jolts of pleasure from that place.

With the way he was feeling now, Joel could cum from just fucking your thighs. And that was alright.

You were moaning underneath him. Even…smiling?

“Fuck, baby, you look so pretty.”

Joel had never called a girl pretty before and meant it. But he hardly knew how else to describe you now with how good and sweet and fine you were making him feel. A strange warmth sank into his chest, making it harder to breathe, and then he was panting above you, as if he were really inside that dripping wet spot. He was close.

“Such a pretty…sweet…fuckin’ thing for me.”

That red, raging, leaky cock of his was almost a blur between your legs, he was thrusting against you so fast. Joel thought for one frightening second that it might be his skull that would explode instead, so high was that pressure between his ears, but his fears were promptly put to rest as the first rope of cum came stuttering out. Then another. Then another. Then another.

By the time he finished, he could’ve sworn he’d left a hundred spurts on your tummy. When Joel glanced down and saw a sea of opaque, sticky white, he groaned.

Then he fell. Fully collapsed at your side with his brain in a tizzy of wild, heady feelings and sank into himself.

He hadn’t even fucked you, and he felt like he had.

He lifted a hand to wipe away his spend, but he couldn’t.

He would get to it in the morning, before you stirred, he thought. He thought. He didn’t have the chance to think much longer at all, as darkness started hedging him in.

He slept.

It was 7:57 when he woke.

The man had no real way of knowing that, though, seeing as he was greeted with a nickel-plated revolver between his teeth the second he opened his eyes.

You were straddling his torso, gun pinched between two calm, bandaged hands. You frowned when he jumped.

“WH—” he started.

“Shut up.”

“ST—”

“I said shut,” you cocked the gun, holding it tighter, then shoving it even further inside his mouth, “the fuck. up.”

The man obeyed.

‘Joel M.’—you’d read the name etched on the butt of his pistol before picking it up some twenty minutes ago.

“Pretty fuckin’ thing,” you mocked the man’s Texan drawl as you wiggled the barrel even deeper along his tongue, “Like givin’ daddy a hard time before lettin’ him in?”

The man’s eyes widened.

How dumb did he think you were?

Offering a semi-clear liquid that should’ve been water; he hadn’t even waited for the morphine tablet to fully dissolve before handing it over to you. Fucking idiot.

You were more disturbed by the fact he’d thought you stupid enough not to notice than him actually trying to drug you. The latter was almost to be expected from predatory, execrable men like him, but the insult to your intelligence? Unacceptable. You’d remedied that affront fairly quickly, though, swapping his glass with yours the second he hadn’t been looking, then nestling into his bed and playing pretend for what had felt like an eternity.

You’d been awake the whole time the man touched you, not knowing what the hell was going on but feeling like you had to stay still. Let him finish. Out of fear, at first, then curiosity, then some strange and unfamiliar sensation that you couldn’t quite describe as anything but a pleasurable itch between your legs. You let the man continue, hearing him grunt and groan and swear up a storm before he shot something hot all over your tummy. By the end of it all, you knew it was wrong, and you knew it was dirty—though you weren’t sure exactly what it was that he had done—but you wanted to learn more.

Which was probably why you hadn’t just shot the old pervert right between his eyes the second he’d stirred.

You shifted atop this ‘Joel M.’ and frowned once more.

“Why’d you stop?”

Gun still wedged in his mouth, Joel’s voice sounded garbled as he spoke, “Wha-agh-at?”

You retracted the metal just long enough to pose the question again. When you had, he still looked stunned.

“Answer me,” you barked, and feeling your patience lapse, got straight to pistol-whipping the motherfucker upside his half-grey head, “You DUMB, or somethin’?”

The man sputtered again.

“No, no— I don’t— dunno what you mean.”

He sounded dumb. You would need to spell this out.

“Why did you stop rubbing me like that?”

If anything, the clarification only seemed to baffle him further. He opened his taut, bearded mouth, then closed it, then eyed you up and down with a look that said he was considering something. Then he stared at one spot.

You glanced down at it too.

“And what is this, anyway?” you asked, swiping one finger at the mostly dried moisture on your stomach, “Why’d you spit this stuff up all over me, huh?!”

“I ain’t—”

You raised the gun as if to hit him again. He jolted back.

“I didn’t mean— shit. Shit, I just…came on you, ‘s’all.”

“Came?”

The word hung in the air like a grenade, waiting. Mr. M was already bracing himself for the impact, it seemed.

“Came?!”

That bracing served him well, because in the next second you were lifting the weapon even higher and eyeing him with the most pointed, putrid look of disdain. You’d never been one for letting grenades go untouched.

“Ejaculated!” Joel hissed, lifting a hand to shield himself, “Felt— felt so good I just couldn’t stop and I-I-I came.”

You paused.

Came. Felt good. Couldn’t stop.

You had felt good when he’d rubbed you. You had not wanted him to stop. But then he had. And you were mad. You’d never been touched that way in your life, and now you were feeling fifteen hundred emotions at once.

Were you supposed to ‘come,’ too? Why did he stop?

“Why didn’t you let me…ejaculate, too?” The words felt foreign and strange on your tongue.

For the first time, you saw one side of Joel’s lips twitch. Evidently fighting the urge to turn them into a smile.

“Girls don’t really…do that,” he said. Then, after a beat, “Why? Ain’t ever had your pussy rubbed on by a man?”

You shortly landed the blow you’d been holding over his head, splitting the skin along his brow with one hit from the butt of his gun. Joel jumped again, then moaned.

“Crazy bitch!”

“Creepy fuck.”

Your eyes narrowed with loathing, unable to comprehend how a man so vile had just made you feel so good. Your stomach was twisting in knots while Joel rubbed his forehead, pawing helplessly at the gash you’d just left.

“I saved your life,” he grumbled, low, “You owed me.”

“Did I?”

Abruptly, and without really thinking, you were sinking the muzzle of the gun into the spot you’d just cut, mouth kicking up in a smile at the sounds of pain it elicited.

“Did I, Joel?” you cooed.

“How the— the fuck do you know my name?”

Momentarily, you yanked the revolver from his face and tilted it to show him his name carved into the bottom.

“What’s the ‘M’ stand for? ‘Molester’?”

“Means ‘mind’ your fucking business,” he spat.

You probably would’ve hit him again had it not seemed as though he were trying to sit up just then. You slid swiftly from his frame—just to take a step off the bed, gun still pointed at his head. Then you backed away.

One by one, rapidly, you unloaded the bullets from the cylinder, maintaining a safe distance from the man all the while. You watched him blink and try to get some thing from his eyes, but he didn’t seem keen to move.

You left just one live round inside. You made a point to spin the cylinder and, again, aim it straight at his head.

The man was blinking even harder. Rubbing now, too.

“I feel…” Joel murmured.

“Drugged?” you returned, “Yeah, that must suck.”

A set of wide, irate, and horrified eyes met yours. His mouth hung open in a stupid look of shock. Trying to piece the last bits of this fucked up jigsaw puzzle together and growing angrier by the second.

“You fuckin’—”

Joel’s words were cut short by the weight of your body barreling back over his. Graceless, you imagined, but still nothing close to something you cared about now. You planted your knees on either side of his ribs and grazed the tip of the six-shooter down the length of his nose.

“Tell me,” you said, “How’d you make it feel so good?”

Your hips twisted for effect, jostling the man’s own parts beneath yours and clearly causing some effect in him. The muscles in his jaw jumped up as he gritted his teeth.

“You know damn well, slut,” Joel griped.

Without another thought, you squeezed the trigger.

Click.

The man’s whole body lurched underneath you. Trembling with the realization that you’d left just one lone bullet for him—and he didn’t know which chamber.

As far as foreplay went, Russian Roulette was probably a first, even for a man as wanton and depraved as Joel. You smiled sweetly and made another gyration with your lower half, which prompted him to grip you. Tight.

“What? Ya want me to fuck you, is that it?” he growled.

“I thought it wouldn’t fit.”

“I’ll make it fit.”

“How?”

Try as you might to conceal it, your gaze likely betrayed a hint of sincerity as you made that last inquiry. Joel’s eyes flickered between yours, searching for something there, and just when those glossy brown irises had found it, they stopped. Blinked. He shook his head, incredulous.

“My mind ain’t…right,” he said, slowly, “But I— I know you know what I mean by that, sweet pea.”

Something in your tummy fluttered at the sound. You gripped the pistol tighter to get rid of the feeling.

“I don’t,” you answered.

Again, Joel was stumped. For the first time, though, there appeared to be some sympathy behind his eyes. Or stupidity. Or just a shit ton of morphine coursing through his veins as he tried to make sense of this situation.

As if to confirm an idea in his drug-addled brain, he lowered a hand between your legs and hovered there a second. He watched you; you watched back but didn’t move.

Then slowly, almost clinically, Joel slipped two fingers underneath you and found a soft, pulsing warmth—far wetter than the last time he’d touched down there. When he pulled his hand away, both fingers and half of his palm were glistening with a fluid. You let out a startled cry at the sight of it and nearly dropped your gun.

“What is that?!”

Joel looked to you, equally awed—for different reasons.

“What do you mean?”

“Why’s it all…sticky?”

You couldn’t even try to hide your horror at the thought of that weird, syrupy stuff leaking out of you. It was strange enough feeling it come out of a freak like Joel, but from your own body? He had to be fucking joking.

“It’s normal.”

“Like hell it is— you— STOP!” The last fragment of your sentence was swallowed by a scream, leaping back when Joel moved his fingers toward your face.

“What? You’ve never seen this?” He sounded like he was teasing. You could shoot him for how smug he sounded.

In very small amounts, you’d seen stuff. Blood every month. Bits and pieces of bodily secretions that, to you, had always seemed gross. But never this. Never big, sticky globs of…whatever the fuck this was. You continued to back away on the bed, gun still tipped toward Joel but now trying to put some distance between your bodies. You didn’t know how else to act.

You did know you wanted to scream when Joel stuck his fingers in his mouth. Bile might’ve jumped in your throat.

He sucked the dew clean off the digits, then wriggled them to show what he’d done. You felt the urge to vomit.

“That came from— from— why are you eating it?!”

Joel grinned. Big.

You weren’t sure why, but he looked psyched to be alive in that moment, and not just because of the narcotics.

Before you knew what was happening, he’d pushed you flat on your back, hips pinned underneath his hands as he moved over your body. He didn’t even try for the gun.

“And here I was thinkin’ you were just fuckin’ with me,” he chuckled, palms sliding under your nightdress. When you felt the residuum of wetness from his spit and your slick stuck together on his fingers, you wanted to squeal.

But you didn’t. You tried propping yourself up on elbows until Joel was sliding your one and only article of clothing over your head, then beckoning you down on the bed in front of him. You watched his gaze flit down to your side.

“Still hurt?” he murmured, tracing over the bandage.

You shook your head no, though it did, a little. At the moment, it seemed the pain was the furthest thing from your mind as you saw Joel slide down your body and try to take up residence between your thighs—with his face planted right there. You kicked his shoulder in protest.

“Quit!” you cried, pulling your legs up to your chest.

“You quit,” Joel returned, yanking them back.

Then you felt you had no choice but to brandish the gun, taking the thing between two palms while you pointed it again—as if he needed the reminder.

“Fine. Why don’t you keep that thing aimed at my head while I give you some?” he muttered. The subsequent ‘See if I give a shit’ was silent.

“Give me some what?”

“Head.”

Head. You’d never heard something phrased that way. Joel’s head was down there, sure, practically grinning from ear to ear as he hooked your legs over his shoulders, but certainly he didn’t mean to do a thing as drastic and dirty as—

“JOEL!”

“Hm?” His voice was muffled by your thighs.

You tried to shy away, but he held you down.

“Joel, I— I pee out of there,” you hissed, “Why the fuck would you wanna put your mouth on that?”

As if your groans of disgust and vehement attempts to get away weren’t enough to deter him, you watched Joel’s tongue dart between his lips and down to yours. The sick fuck was actually licking your folds, tracing the tip across that warm, sticky place and moaning into your skin. Holding you tighter when you pleaded for him to stop. Then, with the hand that wasn’t prying your legs apart, he reached down and started stroking his cock.

Again, it felt dirty and wrong. Beyond the fact that this man was a perfect stranger and easily decades your senior, you were repulsed by the sight of his lips and his tongue and his spit mixing up in that messy, wet place you still didn’t quite understand yourself. You didn’t know much about your body, but it had never once occurred to you to be kissed down there. Joel was roaming every contour and crevice with his tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he liked it.

“I hate it,” you whined, feebly.

You knew you could’ve easily blown the man’s brains out, but some small part of you was still plagued by curiosity. ‘Hate’ was just the first word that came to mind when you were faced with something that made you scared.

“It’s weird,” you tried again. This time pressing the gun to the top of his bobbing head while you grit your teeth, “And wrong.”

At that, Joel stopped.

His eyes flickered to yours, all glass-like and hooded.

“Why? Practically lickin’ ya clean here,” he said, starting to grin to himself as his words came slightly slurred, “There’s nothin’ wrong about this, sweet pea.”

You felt something flutter between you. He felt it, too.

“Like when I call ya that? ‘Sweet pea’?” he said, pausing to flick his tongue over the spot that had just stirred at his words. He watched you fight back a whimper.

“No,” you choked. You pinched your eyes shut, unsure whether it was pleasure or pure revulsion overtaking you—or both.

Suddenly, you felt Joel’s hand smooth over your thigh, still warm from when he’d been stroking himself below. He placed an affectionate kiss to your belly and grinned.

“Is that what this is? Feel guilty about feelin’ this good?” he murmured, “Think it’s…dirty, what we’re doin’?”

At length, and just barely visible to him, you nodded.

“It is dirty,” you corrected him quietly.

Then you saw that stupid pseudo-sympathetic smirk tug at the corners of his lips, and just when you thought he might nudge his way back up your body—to do what, you weren’t sure—he sank between your legs. This time, he made sure to hold your gaze as he re-assumed the position. His palm continued to rub at your thigh, as if to distract you from the rough brush of his stubble or the fact that his mouth was hovering so dangerously close.

“Sweet pea,” he rasped, “Ain’t nothin’ dirty about this.”

As if to punctuate his words, Joel dragged his lips down your slit to press a kiss to your centre, eyes never leaving yours.

“Not here…”

He pointed with his tongue, moving it deftly between your folds. You gripped the sheets, trying to ignore the pleasure that the simple act wrought through your body.

“Not here.”

He kissed your clit. You squeezed even tighter.

“Not on my tongue, on my fingers, anywhere, y’hear?”

You were about to answer—maybe tell him he was supremely full of shit, then flash the gun in his face—when Joel shifted onto his knees on the bed. He moved slowly and as calm as he ever had, motions languid while his mind was likely steeped in the morphine by now. He snagged one of your ankles. He slid his hand up the back of your calf and tugged you down to the edge of the bed. Then he stood up, right between your legs. The warmth radiating from his bare lower half was immediate, almost suffocating from where you lay. You didn’t like it at all.

You refused to meet his gaze, grip tightening on the gun.

“Joel…”

When that warmth at your front shifted inward, though, you hardly had a say in what your reflexes did or didn’t do. You jumped when you felt the head of his dick slip past your pulsing core, closer to the other hole below it.

“Not here, either,” Joel continued, grin still evident from his tone.

Before you could even think to ask what he meant to do ‘here,’ Joel moved one of your legs up, tilting your hips, and pushed ahead with just the tip of his cock. Not breaching it fully, but nudging—prodding at that hole.

For the first time, you let out a moan.

You hastily clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle it.

“Aw, honey,” Joel murmured, “Did that feel good?”

His words reeked of condescension. You scowled at the ceiling.

“No.”

You felt him push a little further—this time making the head of his dick notch into that tight ring of muscles.

No, the word rang through your skull once more. Your curiosity was shortly supplanted by disgust—how the fuck could you let this creepy old man, this stranger, press into you like that? Talk to you like you were dumb? You seized hold of Joel’s pistol with both hands and aimed directly for his chest.

“Stop doing that,” you growled. When the man’s grip on your leg only tightened and you couldn’t writhe away, you lifted the other and tried kicking him in the gut. Of course, Joel caught your foot midair, and it never landed.

“Just givin’ ya options, darlin’,” he said, easy-going. Not seeming to care about the firearm pointed his way.

Fuck it.

You squeezed the trigger again.

Empty chamber.

If Joel flinched, you didn’t see it. He did, however, knock the gun right out of your hand the next second, sending it tumbling with an unceremonious thump on the bed behind you. You tried to leap back for it, but your arm was quickly pinned. Joel cocked one silver-flecked brow.

“You done?” he asked, almost bored.

Your last—and only—leverage taken away from you, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of anger. And desperation.

“I don’t wanna do this,” you cried, trying to squirm away.

Joel didn’t move his cock, but he did hold you still. Blinking with indifference and a fair bit of drug-induced dissociation, it seemed, from the far-away look in his eyes. He pushed both of your legs so they were folded up to your chest, and ignored your whimpers when he did. At length, he pulled out just enough to smear some of your wetness down to the hole he was trying to fuck.

“You want this,” he countered gently.

“I DON’T!”

Joel continued as though he hadn’t heard you, and moments later, you sensed another slick something pooling against you. From your position beneath him, you could see a bead of spit slip from Joel’s mouth and stretch into a thin, glistening string all the way down to the space between your thighs. You watched him rub the saliva in with his fingers, almost meticulous as he did it.

Then he eased his hips forward an inch, wedging himself back in your ass. He groaned when he felt resistance—and a sharp clench of your muscles.

“I can teach ya…show ya everything…there is to know.”

His words somehow made it out through ragged breaths. That broad, tan chest was heaving with every labored pull of his lungs, and you could tell he was feeling good.

You might’ve been able to say the same for yourself, were your mind not singly occupied by the desire to escape. Still at war with yourself, wondering how it would feel or what you might see that first time, all the while despising the man who seemed hell-bent on forcing it.

He might’ve saved your life, but there was no fucking way he’d get to use you like that and stay breathing.

You were raised better than that.

You could do better than anything this man had to offer.

You resolved to kill him as soon as the drugs knocked him out—just like you’d had planned from the second you woke up on the floor of his cabin that afternoon.

Of course being chained, maimed, and frozen half to death on the plains for some well-meaning stranger to find you had always been part of your mother’s—and the rest of the Raiders’—grand plan. Having this stupid, horny sap take you into his home with the hope of claiming you as his own was just the icing on top.

Now you had a reason to kill Joel and steal all his shit.

At present, he fed another inch of himself inside you and grinned when you let out a startled cry.

“Atta girl,” he said, smirking, “Feelin’ okay?”

“Fuck you.”

“Will do.”

Then, as if to prove a point, he bottomed out, sheathing his cock to the hilt in spite of your cries. Your hands fisted the sheets, and you tried to pull off. It didn’t work.

In fact, all it accomplished was giving Joel more room to thrust back into you. And pull out. And shove back in. The snap of his hips was like cruel and excruciating clockwork, completely unhindered by your words or your gestures or your pleas to stop fucking doing that Joel, it fucking hurts! If anything, the sounds of your censure only got him harder, and with it, made it that much easier to fuck you rougher. His eyes shone with pride.

“What’s’at, sweet pea?” he hummed, strokes coming into a steady pace.

“It’s too…big…doesn’t fit,” you whimpered.

In response, Joel glanced down to see the spot where your bodies were joined. He pushed even deeper.

“Yeah?” he said when you yelped, “I think it fits just fine.”

Motherfucker, you wanted to wail, but then your neck craned sideways—your mouth trying to find purchase in anything you might grit between your teeth—and the only thing that escaped your throat was a sob. You tried burying your face in the comforter, only for Joel to yank it back.

Cupping your chin and pinching both your cheeks in a single, punishing squeeze as he continued to fuck you, “What’s the matter, darlin’? Too much?”

You groaned and clenched your jaw, head jerking away.

Per usual, Joel was undeterred. Even smiled.

“My pretty girl need somethin’a bite, huh?” he hummed.

He probably knew you wouldn’t nod, so he went ahead and decided to oblige that one need he saw anyway. Snagging your nightie, Joel raised a hand to your face and proceeded to push the fabric inside your mouth.

Just as he started to lift his hips to deliver another thrust, he had to stop. A sudden, sharp ‘FUCK!’ left his mouth, then a groan, and his hand retreated fast.

You’d bitten him.

You were grinning just a little, and you’d bitten him.

Joel promptly slapped you across the face. If you weren’t so fucking amused by the sight of his bright red fingers, you just might’ve winced. Instead, the smile stayed on your lips, the slap barely registered, and, to your utmost disbelief, something else had just then started to form.

Pleasure, in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuckin’—” Joel snarled.

“Shit,” you finished, eyes rolling back.

You couldn’t help it. Joel was rutting into you relentlessly. That brief hand bite detour had only stoked the flames of his hatred—and arousal—and now he was practically splitting you in half with the force of his thrusts. He slapped you once more for good measure.

“Oh, that you fuckin’ like?” he seethed, cheeks flushed, “Can’t get off with my…tongue on your cunt, but a slap— and my cock buried deep in your ass gets the job done?”

“Uh-huh,” you answered softly. Mindlessly.

Really, there were no two people more fucked up than you in this moment, you thought. Joel growing harder with each desperate objection of yours, you going all soft and hot and bothered the second he slapped your face and fucked you rougher, and together, the two of you letting out grunts and moans of pleasure while the bed shook like an earthquake just shy of a 9.5 on the Richter scale. Were you not already planning to slit the man’s throat after all of this was over, you just might’ve wanted to marry this Joel M for how wonderfully he fucked you.

You let him know as much when you seized his forearms.

Bouncing into his thrusts, you bit your lip and finally met his gaze. Joel’s eyes were trained in somewhat of a daze, pupils all but swallowing his irises as he fucked you.

“Like being daddy’s little cocksleeve, huh?”

Only the sentence was slurred so bad you could scarcely make out half the words. You nodded just the same.

“Like it when he fucks you in the ass?” Joel panted.

You nodded again.

That pleasure in your belly had worked its way up to a full swell—and whatever it was, you couldn’t bear the thought of losing it now. You gripped Joel’s arms even harder as his chest swayed into you, then sank further and further until your fronts were pressed flush to each other and your ankles were hooked tight around his back.

It almost felt intimate. That coarse, weathered, sweat-coated face spattered with patches of grey seemed to you nearly handsome as his lips hung limply in an ‘o.’

Joel’s cock dragged back and forth between your walls at this new, snug angle, and moans fell out of you both.

“Baby.” His voice was hoarse. Strained.

You couldn’t quite make sense of the expression above you, but there was an unmistakable, muted desperation lurking somewhere beneath it. Joel rutted into you quicker, balls leaving rapid smacks against your ass with every thrust. His hair was disheveled, and his hands were making fists in the sheets on either side of your head.

“Joel—”

“Jus’ lemme use you.”

Words so low they were barely audible as he panted.

“But—”

“Daddy’s…almost done, sweet pea. Just take it.”

You were surprised he’d had it within himself to be so soft. A peculiar sort of haze hung over his face, the pace of his hips picked up even more, and suddenly those plush pink lips were hovering a mere hair’s breadth away from yours. Mumbling. Rambling on and on about how wet you were, how perfect you fit him, how nice and sweet and tight your body felt as he fucked you stupid.

That sensation in your own stomach grew even stronger.

Unsure of what to do, you pressed a palm to his chest.

“Joel, I…I feel funny,” you whispered.

Joel hummed. Didn’t slow.

“I know.”

He knew?

“What’s it—ah, fuck.” Your words broke off in a whimper.

Instead of proffering a verbal response, Joel just slipped a touch between your bodies—thumbing sloppily between your folds to earn a couple more high-pitched moans. Your legs tightened around his middle.

“Joel, s-stop!”

It felt so good it almost hurt. He didn’t stop.

“S’just an orgasm, baby,” Joel panted, “You’re okay.”

And, in spite of his own impending climax and the effect of the drugs likely reaching a fever pitch inside him, Joel managed to slide his other hand beneath the back of your head. Cradled you to him while he fucked you into the bed and made you come unraveled with his touch. You tried to writhe away, but he was used to the drill by now—he just fucked you harder and rubbed you faster.

Whatever he wanted would come soon. You doubted there was anything you could do to stop it, but you tried.

Without thinking, you grabbed hold of the damp locks of hair at the nape of his neck and yanked on them hard.

“Joel, I can’t— I can’t,” you keened.

The hand at the back of your head held you firm.

“You can,” Joel returned, tough but surprisingly calm, “Give it to daddy, ‘s’all ya gotta do.”

What exactly ‘it’ was was still unclear. You just knew you felt good and warm and full—about ready to burst. When you felt tempted to give his hair another tug, Joel’s eyes met yours, and they were soft. Insistent, still, but soft.

Dilated as all hell and probably swimming in clouds of a delirious, bleary haze, but always soft. Almost tender.

“Be a good girl and give it to daddy,” Joel slurred, slow, “C’mon, sweet pea…cum for daddy, please.”

For the first time in that short, rough, utterly deranged time you had known this man, he was begging you. Pleading with you, now, as his body grew overwrought with pleasure and just needed release. You needed it, too, not even knowing how you would get it, but the force of his thrusts, the warmth of his body, the look in those warm, bare, powerless eyes—you fucking loved whatever it was that could make a man like that so weak.

You had to strike while the iron was hot. You slid back.

Joel didn’t notice, too focused on your face and the feel of your body to see when you’d reached for the gun.

Just as you took hold of it, a jolt of pleasure tore through you. Your heels dug into his back, and you nearly lost control of the pistol. Joel groaned in your mouth, begged you once again to cum all over this cock, make a fuckin’ mess of it, baby, please, and you could only whine, grip the metal tighter, and raise it slowly to the side of his head while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

The peak of your pleasure had come into view. You felt it.

You nudged the muzzle through those soft, slick, salt-and-pepper shaded tufts of hair near the edge of his temple right when the first throes of euphoria seized you.

“FUCK!”

You squeezed the trigger.

[monsterslikemango]

How I headcannon the cod characters would dress off duty

John Price

Granola Dad aesthetic

Carhartt & Patagonia 

Baseball hats & beanies heaven

mostly wears boots and hiking shoes but has a pair of Birkenstocks Gaz bought him.

Wears a very nice tactical watch 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Rich London private school

I headcannon Gaz was raised in a wealthy family — old money yet his dad had a good job to which only added to it. (Probably a judge — would explain where he got his very strong sense of justice from)

Really is just a pretty boy

Old money style, new money shoes

Definitely smells super good! Think Vanilla Sex or Tobacco Vanille by Tom Ford

Gold jewelry — usually small chain and gold watch

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Let me get this out of the way — he still dresses like he’s in high school just a little bit more organized now

Loves to be comfortable — baggy jeans, jackets, hoodies.

Lots of white t-shirts basically wears them with everything, same with white shoes but he can’t keep the shoes clean to save his life

Bought a pair of air forces, they were dirty in a week

Wears a fair amount of jewelry — silver

Never leaves the house with out his cross or medal of Saint Gabriel (he grew up Catholic)

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The girls know what’s coming

Biker

Definitely can dress nice if he tries but is more than likely wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and a hat

Keeps his head down — tends to always wear a hat in public but avoids masks as not to draw attention to him self — doesn’t matter cause he’s probably wearing his helmet anyway

Spends most of his off time in the gym — grey sweats and a black tee

Not really a jewelry person

Belts <3

Phillip Graves

Country boy through and through

Nothing else to say here

Definitely smells good though — think Dior Homme

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Just wanted to say I LOVE your work! Especially with the inclusion of a black reader/character 😭🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

This is a personal lil thought of mine, BUT

John Price wouldn’t say he was dating a black woman, but there would be signs. Even though his style would be fine beforehand, He’d be dressing nicer, his hair and beard would always be well groomed and overall put together.

I think Gaz would be the first to peep something different from his Captain cuz he recognizes the work of his own people lol

And you're right because suddenly this man's beard is lined up too nicely and that damn hat is gone. Check it below the cut love.

Rating: gen audience

It all started a few months ago with a simple, "Hey Captain?" Johnny says, "Nice cologne, the hens in the media bay can't stop talking about it."

Price only shrugged, not really paying attention, "Just trying something new."

Kyle agrees, it's new, and he thinks it fits his Captain nicely.

Then, things escalate from that one-off comment.

Kyle is perplexed. Confused. Genuinely thrown for a loop because why is his Captain sporting a tapered fade that connects tastefully to his beard? With the side burns fading into the connect?

Kyle just shruggs it off as someone at his boss' super cuts trying and talking him into something new.

Only the new hair style stays and there are plenty of women and men staring at him with lust filled eyes.

The next thing Kyle noticed was the glittering shine of a simple gold chain around John's neck. It's thin, and within regulations, the clasps are too small for his co's large hands to actually put on. Kyle peeps the little gold cross that's just dangling there when he leans over the desk to point out things in their mission dockets. Hm when did he find religion? It's not really his business.

Okay what the actual fuck? Kyle is wondering where John heard the phrase "Do I look like Boo Boo the fool" to be able to understand that he needs to not answer that question with anything other than "no ma'am". They are working with another task force that's headed by an older black woman who's a force to be reckoned with. But that's beside the point because, since when did he learn that and whom did he learn it from?

John Price isn't one to actually keep up with eating lunch at work. Kyle remembers having to drag and threaten and get Simon and Soap to help him get their leader to at least try and eat lunch and not work through it. Nowadays? This man brings in lunch, and it's not what you expect. What Kyle is expecting, well...he's not really sure what he is expecting, but seeing this man eat a fried plantain sends him.

It all comes to a head when the four of them are leaving a debrief. They are shipping out at the start of next week. Set to be gone for like maybe a few months. Johnny is begging asking for them all to go out for lunch and Price only raises an eyebrow.

"Can't today Soap." Price says as they exit the office building. His eyes scan the parking lot, and a smile breaks onto his face at the sight of a shiny black car. "I've got plans."

Now Kyle knows how to put two and two together to get four. He's had his suspicions, but the reality of John Price even dating never crosses his mind. He really thought it was just the effects of him and Soap teasing him for being an out of touch old man. But no...he crosses the parking lot and opens the car door to help out a gorgeous brown beauty. There's no telling how old she could be because Kyle knows black doesn't crack (he's often called baby face...its why he refuses to shave off the little facial hair he has). Johnny is shocked and Simon just grunts out a small "huh?" as they watch their captain help his girl into the passenger side of the car.

"In hindsight." Kyle smiles and says as they watch the car pull off, "That new cologne he started wearing months ago should have let us know far before the tapered fade."

[sarah-denial-cq]

What makes you enjoy slave Leia so much? Merely a strong woman in a humiliating, revealing costume, or is there anything more to it?

Slave Leia fixed me.

I don't think I have a lot to say about it that isn't obvious, since I'm kinda stupid. But it's more than just a strong woman being put in a humiliating revealing costume.

First is the in universe concept (uh, I guess, spoilers for like a forty year old movie). It's not just that Leia is captured and put in the bikini. She's captured while in the process of thinking she can be strong and capable, that she can save someone. The outfit and voice changer she used while trying to rescue Han covered up her sex and her weakness. The contrast with that is immense. And when she's caught, people *laugh*. It's a big *joke*. It's not a serious she did a good try but jabba's crack team of security were better. It's like a surprise prank that they all pulled on her. Compare the defiance from when Vader first captures her on the blockade runner in EP IV, when she is strong in the face of capture after a battle well fought, to the face she makes when jabba catches her. No defiance. Just embarrassment, disgrace, weakness, confusion, stupid girl. Sorry I'm kinda masturbating while writing this.

And then she is stripped and put in a tacky bikini with arm bands and hair bands and a collar and leash. Fine. But she is exposed in front of Luke. The one who she was trying to be all tough girl equal around in EP IV and v. He is calm, composed, powerful, which just makes her weakness and stupidity more evident. Of course she couldn't save a man. But one could save her, at the price of seeing her stripped down to a waist and pair of tits.

And that's edge edge that's what brings this into the real world. It completely destroys Leia's character for the entire series. Ask any man who's watched star wars to describe the most iconic scene for Luke and it's idk his training with Yoda or his blowing up the death star or whatever. None of them will say him shirtless and weak and vulnerable in the bacta tank. But ask the same question about Leia and you will get one answer. If it had been her character from the start it wouldn't wreck me quite so much. But it isn't, it's two movies of.building her up as a badass strong independent woman and then haha no you stupid girls who thought this universe took you seriously this is how everyone sees you. The fact that it took away and overwrote and deleted and replaced oh god everything that she did in the eyes of the male audience the film was marketed.to edge is she's literally on a chain looking up at the guy she was pretending to be an equal to just like how I have to be lower and beneath and

And on top of all of that was Carrie's discomfort real world with how revealing the costume was to her professional colleagues it's literally wear this bra and skirt with no panties in front of people you pretend edge are workplace equals wet and pose while kneeling in it for the official promotion materials bark and inspire generations of girls to think that when they attend conventions about their hobbies they should dress up like subservient edge sluts and pose in huge undifferentiated groups for photos and anyways that's part of why I like slave Leia so much thanks for the ask.

[dark-konohagakure2]

Pain punishing a disobedient member by making her a free use slave for the whole Akatsuki

tw: noncon, abuse of power, free use, gangbang, bondage, threats, biting, forced eye contact, abuse, size difference, monster cocks, double penetration, anal, bloodplay, degradation, photography, mommy kink, facesitting

All characters depicted are 18+

Pain isn't as domineering of a leader as people would think, despite being the head of a terrorist group, he allows his members to have a certain degree of freedom with how they pursue the organizations shared goals, but if there's one thing Pain won't allow, it's disobedience.

When a younger female member of the Akatsuki begins to show the telltale signs of a disobedience streak, Pain will snuff out the issue before it even arises, deciding to put the would-be dissenter to work, and what better work for a disobedient brat than long and hard labor?

Pain can easily overpower her even without using his Rinnegan, chaining her up with her arms above her head and her legs spread, all of her holes exposed to whoever would walk into the common room of the Akatsuki lair.

Pain is very blunt about his intentions, telling her all about how he's going to have her own comrades fuck the disobedience out of her, that's the small price that traitors to the Akatsuki have to pay after all.

"Now you're going to learn how to be a good girl. I'm leaving you here for our comrades to use as they see fit. Maybe this will teach you the importance of teamwork and obedience."

Deidara goes first, and being the youngest he has the most stamina, not to mention his sadistic streak. He'll threaten to blow her to smithereens with his art, and he'll use the mouths on his hands to bite when lick her all over. Sasori goes next, and he's just unnerving, showing no emotion and staring at her with unblinking eyes, his puppet body feeling very uncomfortable inside of her as he roughly penetrates her with it.

Itachi is almost as unnerving as Sasori, just without the cold wooden body. He stares too, but with his Sharingan active the entire time he's fucking her, he's oddly insistent on making eye contact the entire time, grabbing her face and even slapping her if she looks away from his intense gaze. Kisame is a very big and tall man, living up to his reputation as a complete monster. He practically smothers the poor girl with his large frame when he pounds both of his cocks into her, shoving one member into each of her holes and leaving her covered in bloody bite marks by the time he's done.

Hidan is unsurprisingly the worst of them all in terms of the amount of physical pain he'll inflict, he'll fuck her so hard that she bleeds while calling her every name in the book, laughing in her face whenever she cries and begs. Kakuzu is no where near as obnoxious as Hidan, but he's just as cruel, forcing his threads into her mouth to shut her up while he plows into her, taking photos of her helpless form on his camera so he can sell them to seedy old perverts later.

Konan isn't as cruel as the men, but she's just as domineering as them, sharply slapping the girl's pussy and telling her to be a good girl for mommy as she sits on the girl's helpless face. Tobi is surprisingly the scariest of them all, the usually childish man is now speaking in a terrifying and deep voice, acting the complete opposite of his usual self as he pounds into her roughly and without a hint of his usual goofiness.

Once the day is done and her sentence is served, Pain will come to unbind her, her body covered in cum, tears, and blood. Pain won't feel any remorse, only showing satisfaction at the fact that his unruly bitch is how housebroken.

"Have you learned your lesson? It certainly looks like you have. Now, let's go to my quarters, I'll give you your final lesson in obeying your leader."

He'll then take her to his room to have his own way with the defenseless Akatsuki member, he's her leader after all, her God, so it's only fair that he fucks her last, to truly assert his dominance and ownership over her used up body.

[johnsbirdie]

blue collar!price and white collar!fem reader

cw: i don’t really know

(i just thought of this and was like this is like totally price)

john is on his break, his rough, callused hands, caked in grime and dirt embedded deep within. he’s smoking a fat cigar to ease the pain (in his knees), he’s getting old now, which is quite easy to tell because his beard is greying - but to his luck you can’t exactly see his salt and pepper hair because his wide-brimmed bucket hat fortunately covers that.

surely he looked disgusting to people outside of the job. the other workers on the site, simon, kyle and johnny, saw him like this everyday of their lives and shrug off the fact he looked like a pig after it rolled around in mud.

and it just so happens that the construction site he works on, there’s a little office building right beside it. how lucky is he?

the chain-smoking, rugged older man set his sights on a little birdie in a tight little pencil skirt. he whistles unashamedly, so you can hear it. he knows you heard him. and you did. you’re walking along, cup holders full with coffee to bring back for your boss, you were a little surprised when he told you to get what you wanted with his card, he seemed to be in a good mood lately.

the wolf-whistle is the thing that nearly makes you drop the coffee-filled plastic cups, and when you look over, there’s a man double your own age with a smirk on his face. what a smug bastard.

“oi, pretty! you in a rush?” he calls out to you, stepping off of some planks of wood he was stood on.

god, you really did not have time for any chit-chat at the moment. you had to get back to work, not that it was any better than the man who had whistled at you, because your quite the talk of the town in the marketing department. all the old men must really like you, huh.

“i am, actually. sorry about that.” you brush him off, the noise of your heels clacking against the pavement infront of the site increasing the faster you walk. you did not want to speak to some roughed up, man old enough to be your dad.

but, does that stop john? absolutely not. he catches up to you before you can even make it into the office building, and he blocks your path.

“nah, you can’t be in a rush, you’re stood here with little ‘ol me.” he says that just to spite you, and when you try to step around him, he blocks your path once more.

“i’m only stood here with you because you’re not letting me move.” you huff. did he not understand that you didn’t want to talk? he was probably just some creep that liked to hit on girls half his age, which, to be fair, is what he was doing right now.

“aye. c’mon love, giv’us a twirl.” he cocks a brow, looking down at you. he towers over you by nearly a whole foot if you weren’t wearing heels.

ugh, who was this guy? a complete and utter prick, you thought. you really shouldn’t pay him any mind.

“do you mind moving, please? i need to get back to work.” you look up at him, your lips pressed into a thin line. you were on the verge of just throwing the starbucks drinks all over him, just to be a bitch about it.

he stands there. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watching you with his piercing blue eyes. he knows he shouldn’t pressure you, he didn’t really mean to come off as a creep. he just thought you were a pretty little thing and he liked pretty little things. but you didn’t seem to like him very much.

“mm. go on. i didn’t mean to be a dickhead, sweetheart. i’m sorry.” he eventually speaks, moving out of your way. which surprised you initially, not expecting that at all from him.

“oh, i… yeah, no, it’s okay. thank you.” you say, your voice a little small as you give him one last glance before heading into work.

until next time birdie. he thinks to himself as he watches your figure disappear into the office building.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I love the idea that their wives know that they actively hate each other but continue badgering them to go on double dates together because the sex afterwards is fucking top tier shit.

Oh! Two local contriversially young wives are plotting against their husbands, breaking news! Seriously, the friendship of Mrs.Price and Mrs.Konig is like 15 percent of genuine feelings and 85 percent of desire to see the world of their partner's burn. I can imagine Mrs.Price being roped into a relationship with the man who spends more time with his soldier boys than with his young and bored wife, so she just kinda went to slumber parties with her bestie every time Price is on the long deployment. Who cares that it's a 2-hour flight from the UK to Austria?? Mrs.Price is less restricted in her movements because Price is confident in his ability to keep a woman around him without a ball and chain, and also in his ability to rack her down more easily, so you can say that his wifey is far more free and tame at the same time. Mrs.Konig is basically a traumatized kitten stuck in her house, she needs friends( Konig is always so so rough after meetings with Price, he hates this old dog so much!!! He literally got himself a young pretty wife and ignores her to focus on his dumb missions, he is horrible to women! Now, the Austrian puppy wants to show Mrs.Konig all the love he has for her, just to prove that he is far better than this old man, he has stamina and desire to please! Price is also jealous and kinda nervous about his wifey going to Konig's house and roping him into meetings( she is so dumb and naive, these guys are dangerous freaks!! Captain needs his special girl to ride him and remind him of how he is definitely not too old for her and actually in a perfect shape all the time!! Now, imagine Price and Konig pinning after same girl...

[missmarveledsblog]

Hand on heart (Jake Seresin x Singlemom!reader)

chapter one

summary : coming to new place is scary , but the adventures along the way might not be right ?

warnings : none not really mainly fluffy fluff

also pic i made doesnt respresent reader description i just needed it for the photo i will try keep reader free for all but she is f.a.b

Battles in life can either motivate or terrify a person , the course of life shifts abruptly from one course to another in a split second . Waking up to a note a couple month before birth well it shifted one battle to a whole new one . From thinking it was all perfect to wondering what she was blinded to , while now she was facing a new battle, one that may have been the most challenging yet .

A lengthy road trip to a new life and a toddler wasn’t what she would have pictured, not in the slightest . But it was a job that paid well and provided daycare , a contract with in her reason and time difficulties she’d be stupid not to take it . She was even able to find a nice home for a reasonable price , maybe it was scary , it was all new and frankly she was terrified of messing up but shit her grandmother didn’t raise her to run from a challenge but to face it head on ,she would be david conquering goliath .

The moment she pulled into her new driveway exhaling as she knew the challenge of trying to move a sleeping toddler was about as careful and stealthy as moving a bomb. Belle was out cold , tired of staying awake in the confines of the dreaded car seat. Slowly getting out the car walking up the driveway heading to the new how opening the door , putting the sleeping toddler on the sofa as she set up the travel cot before then transferring . a quiet celebration of her success as she began getting to work , unpacking the boxes in the kitchen . time was of the essence knowing she couldn’t really well slack off , rest and relaxing could happen once it was all finished. House and belle came first and then she could worry about herself that was for sure. Doing it all alone would always be a scary concept something she made her peace with when she was standing on her grandmothers porch at the age of twenty one with a big bump thinking back it was ridiculous getting married , she graduated early and started college a little earlier , even while she was pregnant. What helped most was the scholarships and the help from her grandmother now twenty four she was doing the best of what she could.

Belle graciously slept for an hour upon arrival and confused whines walking up in the new environment that told her the toddler needed her attention more than the unpacking did . she at least got some of the baby’s room done and beds for both of them to sleep in that night.

“ hey pretty girl , look where we are “ she cooed lifting her up as the little fist rubbed the sleep from her eyes . “ you hungry ?” only for a whine to fall from the toddlers lips .

“fries “ she cried out .

“ fries it is “ she chuckled bringing her to change her diaper first as the toddler still out of sorts and hungry was looking for her fries . “ ok ok grumpy butt lets go get you fed “ she chuckled as they headed out the car handing the toddler a cracker to hold her over and well so she could concentrate on the road. Til she seen the fast food chain of restaurants and slightly praying it wasn’t too crazy inside. She noticed a group in the far corner was about it but other than that the place was completely empty , void of any others which probably most perfect outcome . standing she barely kept her attention on anyone bar the pint sized human holding her hand and the menu . not knowing that the new life she was starting was going to clash with the old one . turning she took other side not wanting to let the toddler disturb the group and yet their uniforms looked familiar .

Two weeks previous :

“ glad to finally have you on board mrs l/n “ captain pete mitchell smiled showing her around the base .

“ you guys seem persistent to have me on your team “ she laughed nervously never really considering working for the navy hell she never knew they had aviation she was sure it was all sea base.

“ You're the best of the best i’d take it as a compliment , you're a mother too I hear ?” He smiled brightly .

“ a freshly turned two year old little girl named Belle who would totally be so jealous now “ she chuckled. “ she is going through a flying phase. My best friend took her to see an airshow and she's been obsessed since,” she explained.

“ please bring her to visit and your husband or partner too “ he lead her into the empty hanger.

“ oh its just me on my own “ she winced ready for the sympathy pity or judgy looks .

“ Well then bring yourself and the little future aviator ” he patted her shoulder as he began to show her around , showing her where everything was held the tools and parts , order sheets and inventory . She never was so excited to start working; it was always her dream to work in aeronautical engineering . She was always into the ways of flying machines from commercial to well fighter jets such as the ones she would be working with . life was never anyway easy , her mom was in and out of rehab all her life before completely up and leaving altogether , her dad well wasn’t much better either, only the man left before she could walk to do what he wanted . one woman she could always count on was her grandmother and two big brothers , no matter what the woman held her up only she died six months which was why she was moving now . how much she helped with everything from the pregnancy and even when she returned home after she woke up alone . As they talked, she could see the group passing by into the hanger, those uniforms of the khaki color all laughing and joking, and she and Pete headed down to finish the final bits of paperwork .

Present:

“Oh i think mama will be working with them “ she cooed as belle was more concerned with the tray of food than the words of her mother .

“ hey y/n is that you ?” a voice called only for her to see her future boss walking toward her .

“ hey captain mitchell how are ya “ she smiled brightly .

“ please even in the hanger it just pete .. this must be the future aviator belle” he smiled only .

“ she is beautiful little girl “ a man spoke only to see couple people standing with her new boss .

“ dagger squad this is the new aeronautical engineer that starting next week mrs y/n and this is here is going to be a future aviator miss belle who i hope will come visit the hanger soon “ he chuckled as the two year old cooed up at him .

“ nice to meet you both ma’am name phoenix call me nat this is bob and fanboy and the one who looks like his ovaries are about to explode is rooster “ she chuckled .

“ he’s worst then a woman with babies “ fanboy snorted .

“ how can i not be look at her little hands that french fry is bigger than it “ rooster chuckled.

“ belle you wanna say hi “she asked softly.

“ hiya “ she shyly said almost hiding her face as she did so .

“ i want one “ the man sighed .

“Ok moving on from that welcome to san diego “ nat smiled shooting her friend weird look .

“ would y’all like to join us looks like it getting busy in here” she looked around as the table began filling .

“ we’d love to , i’ll sit with you while they get the food would you like anything ? belle ?” phoenix asked.

“ frieesss “ the toddler smiled happily .

“ coming up ma’am ?” rooster stood .

“ it’s y/n please less of the ma’am and i’m fine let me give you money for her fries” she went to grab her bag only for them to walk off .

“ it’s on us “ he called back .

“ so good another female is working in the hangar honestly thank you “ nat chuckled .

“ i mean it’s same with my field it mainly men i barely worked with a handful of women “ she snorted.

“ well we heard you made cyclone sweat so your already a big league “ .

“ i think cause i’m younger some don’t take me serious and being female i’m sure you know “y/n explained handing belle her bottle.

“ yeah did you start college at twelve “ nat joked .

“ well not that early actually i was just gone sixteen “ she snorted .

“ wait so your like one of those genius kids that cool and belle i’m sure is following “ nat cooed at the baby.

“ she is very clever for her age just hope she settles well this is so different from texas “ .

“ i’m sure she will love it here”

“ its all new but i mean all new things are scary kinda glad i bumped into y’all make it slighty easier” she smiled weakly .

“ oh its not too bad i mean they can be bone heads but their sweethearts .. don’t tell them i said that though “ nat winked .

“ well i look forward to looking forward to working with you all i am excited i’ve worked on jets before but commercial ones and some classified but i can’t talk about those” she wiped belles face easily following along with the conversation .

“ well we could use your hands i mean last guy was so old he was starting to get sort of sloppy and the replacement is going for deployment so i think that’s why they’re doing the whole civilian contract sort of thing “ nat shrugged as the guys came back to the table rooster blowing the fries before hovering them over the tray looking at y/n who just nodded as he dunk them on the tray making belle giggle and laugh.

“ so what made you get into engineering ?” fanboy asked slight shoving rooster out of the way to sit next to her.

“ oh my grandpa he was actually in the navy but he used to tell me all about the mechanics of things and i fell in love with it all ,he worked on ships and shipping containers though different side but like belle i was taking to a air show and well fell in love “ she animatedly talked away as they listened and after while rooster and belle were having their own conversation til she was heading out the door with the tired toddler with their numbers in her phone so they could meet up sometime before she started .

“ hot and smart” rooster said easily as they walked into the hard deck .

“ way out of your league way too smart to even fall for any of your dumb asses “ nat snorted .

“ i mean i don’t swing that way and they're not that bad but thanks for the compliment “ the blonde drawled .

“ her accent is way better than that too “ rooster sighed sitting down .

“ wasn’t talk about you seresin i was talking about our new engineer we met her when we went to get food “ nat smirked .

“ wow how hot we talking “ javy no longer interested in the game .

“ very she bit young though i think she twenty something and the cutest little girl ever” nat smiled brightly.

“ oh kid yeah i’m out “ jake snorted .

“ hey belle is the cutest two year old i’ve ever seen “ rooster defended .

“ how many two year olds do you know chicken ?” jake smirked .

“ not many but she is the coolest “

“ roosters ovulating aside he isn’t wrong , a sentence i never thought i would say “ nat gasped jokingly.

“ wanna say it again so i can record it “ he winked.

“ nope anyways she starts next week once little belle is settled in daycare so none of you jackasses scare her off “ nat warned them all .

“ for once you don’t need to worry about me moms are too messy “ jake shrugged heading off to the bar .

next chapter

[konigsblog]

omg I loved idea of kidnapper!konig w the shy and sheltered reader it has me floored tbh🫨😮‍💨 presenting you my brain rot the way a proud cat delivers a leaf on your doorstep as a token of gratitude

thinking about how he noticed her at her work or something bc she was so helpful but a little reserved, afraid of him even. Probably bc she isn’t used to seeing 6”10 behemoth military men every day. Konig is smitten w the way she shies away from his intense eye contact, the way she flushes painfully all over her face and neck and stutters as he tries to make conversation. He is enamored, because despite being taken aback by him she still is so obedient and proper in the way she addressed him, going out her her way to make sure he has everything he needs. He wonders in how many other ways she would be so willing to serve him. He knows that she would make the perfect housewife, one worth it to being kept in a gilded cage. a beautiful girl such as herself, oblivious to the dangers of the real world needs protection, someone strong to keep her safe from all the bad men who would no doubt gladly take advantage of her. Konig makes a vow that day to be her protector. at first, the only thing she does is cry and try to get away from him after she wakes up and finds herself chained in his dark basement. She refuses to believe this is her new reality, that’s she’s held captive in the dungeon of the soldier with the icy blue eyes she met at work. She wonders what her mistake was, because she only tried to be nice and friendly despite feeling a deep sense of dread in the pit of her stomach the minute she had laid eyes on the masked giant. If only she had listened to her gut…

no matter how much she beg and pleads, the giant doesn’t budge. He patiently waits for her panic to subside as he takes her in his arms, shushes her and gently wipes and kisses away her tears. He makes her skin crawl, but no matter what she does, she can’t escape the iron grip of his enormous arms snaked around her waist, holding her against his chest as he rocks her back and forth. He is so sweet and gentle, so patient and understanding. He lulls her to sleep in his arms, speaking soft and soothing words in her ear. Soon, she’ll get used to her new home. To her new place beside him, as his. His to love, his to cherish and protect. He promises the chains will come off her ankles and wrists once she behaves and stops trying to get away. But until then, she’s bound to sleep on the old mattress in the cold basement. Of course he isn’t heartless. He comes down once a day to feed her, always making sure its her favorite foods and snacks she gets but on one condition: she has to let him feed her, take the bites and spoonfuls from his hand. He coos at how much of a good girl she is being for him, his praises tinting her ears all pink. And he allows her to bathe, he has all of her favorite oils and gels and products. But once again, for a price. She has to allow him to bathe her. At first she tries to edge away from his hands on her, large and brute palms lathering her soft skin with soap, thoroughly rubbing her all over. She’s never been naked in front of someone else, let alone touched in such a way. But she relaxes once he applies enough pressure on her aching joints, massaging the soreness away. When she finally relaxes and leans her head back against the bathtub, she feels his calloused fingers edge down to her core, teasing her folds. She flinches and opens her eyes, looking up at him, startled and caught like a deer in the headlights.

“have you ever been touched down here, meine hirsch?”

his voice is ever so soft and inviting. She shakes her head, caught in his gaze as her chest falls and rises, her nipples hardening from the cold as her soapy breasts peak up from underneath the bubbles. His fingers find something small, something hidden between her folds and she yelps when he starts rubbing slow and small circles on it. He is delighted to have his suspicions confirmed, his engel is untouched. A virgin.

“you’ve been so good for me today. So obedient. You’re learning so fast, meine hirsch. I think you’ve earned another reward. How about I spoil you some more?”

NON-CON/RAPE

könig is so ecstatic to realise that his little engel is a sweet, inexperienced virign. so he can be your first, the one to corrupt you. you're just so sheltered, so scared and teary-eyed when his hands dip further and further until they reach area's you wish they wouldn't have.

his semi-hard cock only hardens more at the sight of you; bare and wet in a tub of warm water, weak and vulnerable against him. god, the thoughts and fantasies of taking you now – even if you didn't want it – were driving him crazy, almost delusional as his eyes widen and the sides of his mouth curl up into a eerie smile. his morals almost forgotten about when he saw you shudder.

“oh-hah, my sweet thing... are you a virgin?” he lauaghs out at the question, almost taken about, excited and shocked.

he chuckles lowly when you nod, rubbing your clit in soothing circles whilst kissing your cheek. you whimper, whining at the newfound attention to your clit. you can only grip the sides of the bathtub, cornered in and useless against your kidnapper.

“please–stop!” a hearty chuckle leaves könig at your sight of misery, your fear. the tortue he's inflicting apon you and your poor, virgin body.

“you have nothing to be afraid of, my dear...” despite his promises, you could see past his smirk, knowing exactly what he had in store for you.

könig bundled you up into the towel, holding you in bridal style before placing you down at the edge of the bed. he threw the towel open from your body so that you were laying against it. the rough texture against your soft skin while he swirls his throbbing dick around your tight entrance. you whimper, squirming and shaking at the pleasure before he eases inside mercilessly. your nerves through the roof.

he doesn't care. not about your pleasure, but about the tightness of your pussy around his big dick. he's just so hard, so, so fucking hard as he pushes deep inside, pressing against your womb as he repeatedly begins thrusting into you. you cry out, thrashing beneath him to no avail as his grip on your hips only tightens, pushing you down against the bed :(

“stop-please, i don't want it!!” you whimper out, fearful and trembling, pussy throbbing and pulsing uncontrollably around him, only driving him more insane, giving him more power and control as he uses the way your body reacts against you. your pussy can't seem to stop drooling, what's the issue? he's just making sure his princess is treated right.

“look at you, you can't even deny that you're enjoying this.” he huffs out when he feels your folds wrap and tighten around his fat cock, continuously driving his huge cock into your virgin pussy relentlessly. no pity or mercy, and sure as hell no sympathy as you continue squirming despite being asked repetitively to stay still for him. so he can use you, just how he thinks you like.

you don't want this, none of it. but when he pinches your hardened, swollen nipples while bullying his thick and veiny dick into your weeping, raw cunt, you can't help but moan and pant, arousal dropping from your sex as he grinds against you.

“...no-no more...” you pant breathlessly. so sore, aching and bruised. his rough pace doesn't stop, not even for a second. slapping your face harshly as you grew more dumb and dizzy from his cock. he didn't want you to miss a second of this.

“don't pass out on me, engel, i won't stop even if you're unconscious...” you sob out at his words, choked and silenced when he wraps his large and calloused hand around your throat, making you babble out at the burning, rupturing sensation in your core.

so, so callous and careless as he leaves you whimpering and sensitive.

[calliesmemes]

DARKNESS HAUNTS YOUR NARRATIVE

UNSETTLING SENTENCE STARTERS FROM VARIOUS SOURCES THAT WILL SEND SHIVERS DOWN YOUR SPINE AND LEAVE AN OMINOUS FEELING LINGERING IN THE ROOM.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   I’m deep inside your mind. There is no escape for you. ”

“   You save everyone, but who saves you? ”

“   The power inside of me — it’s terrifying. ”

“   Power belongs to those who take it. ”

“   You’ll be the ruin of me, won’t you? ”

“   You weren’t meant to save the world — you were meant to destroy it. ”

“   You didn’t break me; you built me. All you did was make me ruthless. ”

“   You have no power over me. ”

“   I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me. ”

“   All the greatest loves end in violence. ”

“   I don’t think you’re truly mean. You have sad eyes. ”

“   In theory the prophecy could still come true. ”

“   One day, your empathy is going to get you killed. ”

“   We are masters of our own destiny. ”

“   Never trust a survivor until you find out what they did to survive. ”

“   The horror that you have seen is not who you are. ”

“   A little too much anger, too often or at the wrong time, can destroy more than you would ever imagine. ”

“   Your scars are not your shame; they are your story. ”

“   I will never turn my back on people who need me. ”

“   Isn’t it scary to be ready to die at such a young age? ”

“   Your mind is a weapon. Keep it loaded. ”

“   Are you hearing those voices again? ”

“   It scares me sometimes. The emptiness I see in your eyes. ”

“   You may not be interested in the war, but the war is interested in you. ”

“   Haven’t you taken enough from me? ”

“   You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you have committed. ”

“   It is okay to be angry. It is never okay to be cruel. ”

“   I hope that what you did to me haunts you. ”

“   The price of freedom is high. It always has been. ”

“   When you talk, I can hear the revolution. ”

“   Do not pretend that you are some meek, pathetic little girl when I can see that vicious mind working behind your eyes. ”

“   Your new life will cost you your old one. ”

“   Watching someone you love suffer can teach you even more than suffering yourself can. ”

“   Some people are in your life to test you ”

“   Fear makes men more dangerous than magic ever could. ”

“   At what point do you think i'll become the wound itself and not simply the bearer? ”

“   We are made of all those who have built and broken us. ”

“   All power demands sacrifice and pain. ”

“   Some things buried deep need to stay that way. ”

“   You and I are going to change the world. ”

“   I wonder which will get you killed faster — your loyalty, or your stubbornness? ”

“   Something’s made your eyes go cold. ”

“   If I am not a weapon, then what am I? ”

“   Your chains are broken, but are you truly free? ”

“   You were alone before they left you. ”

“   You can love a monster, it can even love you back, but that doesn’t change its nature. ”

“   It’s awful not to be loved. It’s the worst thing in the world … it makes you mean, and violent, and cruel ”

“   We can simultaneously be both human and monster. ”

“   I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. ”

“   You laugh like a little girl and think like a martyr. ”

“   Grief taught me inhumane things. ”

“   You will always be a monster. There is no turning back from it. ”

“   I know there’s a villain, and I’m worried it’s me. ”

“   I can’t stand the bitter thing that I’ve become. ”

“   People will never bleed enough to fulfill your vision of justice. ”

“   What if I told you the truth about what happened that night? ”

“   Part of me died in order to survive. ”

“   We are cursed with a tendency for violence. ”

“   I speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ”

“   I see no use quarrelling with fate. ”

“   Nobody smart plays fair. ”

“   Fine, make me your villain. ”

“   They should be terrified of me. ”

“   I gave you devotion, blood, and my life. ”

“   How disappointing, when people succumb to what is expected of them. ”

“   Perhaps that was why I had to endure pain — because true transformation can only happen in the crucible of suffering. ”

“   Morality, too, is a question of time. ”

“   Memories destroy us. ”

“   My entire life, I’ve been fighting a war. ”

“   Fair is foul, and foul is fair. ”

“   Are you becoming what you’ve always hated? ”

“   I have found it takes a lot of strength to endure myself. ”

“   Loving any of us is a death sentence, isn’t it? ”

“   You long to be bandaged before you have been cut. ”

“   I feel so lost among these entirely strange people. ”

“   Remembering is like an open wound. ”

“   The wounded recognize the wounded. ”

“   I am alone and am suffocating because I cannot give voice to my emotions. ”

“   I’ve lived through entire tragedies in silence. ”

“   The more you love, the more you suffer. ”

“   The crowd that applauds a ruler’s coronation is the same crowd that will applaud a tyrant’s beheading. People like a show. ”

“   You are a better knife than you are a person. ”

“   Life goes more smoothly without a heart. ”

“   People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar. ”

“   I’m nostalgic for the anger I once had. ”

“   The pain I didn’t tell you about has built a home inside of me. ”

“   My greatest regret was how much I believed in my own future. ”

“   All I ever do is grieve. ”

“   Do not mock a pain you haven’t endured. ”

“   I control the shadows. They do not control me. ”

“   Turn the pain into power. ”

“   Sometimes, we survive by forgetting. ”

“   I am now the most miserable man living. ”

“   To remain as I am is impossible; I must die or be better, it appears to me. ”

“   In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all; and, to the young, it comes with bitterest agony. ”

“   I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me. ”

“   Memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives. ”

“   Maybe everything that you thought was breaking you was actually leading you towards yourself. ”

“   Sometimes, not being in control is the most beautiful thing in the world. ”

[callsign-songbird]

(I was going back through some files on my laptop and found this old thing I wrote, No, I am not going to edit anything, so, Enjoy!)

Thinking about Simon. Thinking about the callouses on his hands, not just his fingertips. Thinking about the way his hands are so rough against your soft skin, massaging is and manipulating the soft flesh in malleable circles. the way he would pepper kisses along the surface and fan his soft breaths along your neck. this is a man who has lost everything and drug himself through hell by only his bootstraps to spit in the devils face, and paid the price for it. so to have something as beautiful, as decadent, as absolutely divine as you looking up at his with those big, wet eyes while the pumps his cock into you and pushes you to the point of overstimulation, whining and begging him to stop. he doesn't feel worthy. You are his goddess, his life, his love, the breath in his lungs, everything he lives and exists for. Price could tell the day he met you too.

Simon had always been utterly devoted to Price. After Simon accomplished his mission, Price was the one to pull him out of that lonely pit, dust him off, and offer the husk of a man a job doing what he did best. and from that day forward, that was what Simon was. A soldier. Not just any soldier, though. He was Price's soldier. Any order or request Price gave was carried out down to the letter. it didn't mind if Price was asking for a coffee, mentioned that he needed his boots shined, or even needed some *other* acts of service, Simon was always right there. And then there was you. One day, Simon came back from off-base with Price's coffee, and he faltered. It was tiny, miniscule even. Simon overlooked Price's comment about being parched. As small as it would be for anyone else, that was monumental for Simon. He started leaving base more, becoming more and more distracted. Then, one day, Simon comes to Price with a question that he doesn't know how to answer at first.

"Captain, how does one... Approach a woman with the intent of... a relationship?" Price about spit out his coffee, choking momentarily and disguising the action as a cough, but Simon knew. Simon always knew. Price gave the best advice he could, but he was utterly confounded as to where this development had come in. He watched Simon nod his head and head out of his office, large gloved hands stuffed in his pockets and brows knit up beneath his skull balaclava. Price really knew that he shouldn't be worried, Simon was nothing if not dedicated, committed, and diligent. But this was a big change, and Price momentarily worried for whatever pretty little thing had caught Simon's eye.

This was where Soap and Gaz came in. Troublemaking pair that the two of them were, and other than Price, Soap was the closest one to Simon on base. Whenever Simon craved dominance, he went to Price. Whenever Simon craved submission, he would take it from Soap. Not like he was complaining, no. The military was a bunch of guys getting real close and sweaty with each other, coming to rely on and depend on each other, and Soap had never been shy about what he had.

So imagine his surprise when Simon hasn't scruffed him, shoved his cock down Johnny's throat, or even shot him that warning glare in nearly a month now. He mutters under his breath and tosses back another glass of amber warmth, whining out about his relationship issues to Gaz. Gaz simply pats his back awkwardly while sipping on his own glass. "I dunno mate, maybe he's got a new girl." They both take one look at each other and burst out laughing so hard that their sides hurt, but that's all it takes to sew those seeds of doubt. Not like he *really* cares, no. Sure, the dominance is fun and keeps his high drive satisfied for the most part, but he's more worried for his friend than anything. Ghost never shared his life with anyone, so if it really was a girl, well, things could get complicated. Simon was like an animal, with a strict chain of command in his head. It went Price, him, Soap. He was Price's, and Soap was his. and he was fiercely protective of that hierarchy. But if it wasn't enough? If he was thinking of adding a little bird to the mix? Heaven forbid a civilian? Well, things might get complicated.

So that's how He, Gaz, and Price ended up following Simon off base one day. Though, Price only came to keep them out of trouble and out from under Simon's feet, much to Gaz's delight and Soap's chagrin. They tailed Simon from a safe distance, dressed in civilian clothes to avoid attention. They watched as he stepped into a shop and came out with a small plastic bag and- heaven forbid- Price had to harshly clap a hand over Soap's mouth to keep him from the boisterous laughter that threatened to spill out from the cage of callouses and chorded steel beneath flesh. Flowers. In Simon's other hand was a dainty bouquet of flowers. Pink roses, white lily's, baby's breath, and pink orchids. It was a nice arrangement, and for a moment, Price and Soap were on the cusp of jealousy, overridden only by sheer curiosity. Who the hell was it that had managed to enrapture the stoic and cold lieutenant like that?

They followed all the way to a small park, jaws nearly dropped ad the slight skip in Ghost's step. It was almost indiscernible to the untrained eye, but these men had spent years with Simon, grown accustomed to the three kinds of steps this man had. Cool and calculated, Hurried and determined when shit hits the fan, and enraged with quick and heavy footfalls. This was none of those. The way Simon bowed his head, his shoulders slightly hunched in, the soft almost nonexistent trembling in his hand that was unbecoming of a sniper.

Simon was *Nervous* they all realized.

Then they saw you, and none of them could understand. You were ok. Kind of average, not exactly a model but certainly not ugly. any one of them would shag you, if that meant anything. But the longer they watched, the more they came to understand. They way your cheeks flushed and your eyes lit up at the bouquet, a soft giggle leaving your lips. Simon's eyes squinted beneath his mask, the tell-tale sign of a smile leaving the three men breathless. This little thing had their Lieutenant wrapped around her little finger, and yet, she didn't seem to have any ill intent. you we're all soft smiles and sweet words. A bit of an odd duck from what the three could tell by tailing the two of you on your outing, but it only made you more endearing to them. What was more surprising though, was the Lieutenant.

None of them could comprehend the hold you had on him. With Simon, there always had to be something firm and ironclad. With Price, it was his dominance. With Soap, he was the firm one with strict rules and harsh punishments, And yet, this was none of that. He seemed to treat you so gently, as if you were the most precious aerogel and would shatter at the smallest bit of force. Simon's gruff voice was gentle when he spoke to you, the hand on the small of your back protective, yet soft. None of the men knew how to take it.

Then came the nail in the coffin. In front of a house, presumably yours, you turned to Simon, looking up at him through those long lashes of yours. Your hands slipped out of his and rested on his chest, palms flat against the fabric, slowly snaking up until your fingertip brushed under the hem of Simon's mask. Each man watched as the Lieutenant tensed, like a spring about to snap. What they didn't expect was for him to give you a single curt nod. Slowly and gently you worked the fabric of his mask up, caressing every inch of unearthed flesh with your fingertips as if it were a treasure you were unearthing. Eventually, Simon's mask rested over the bridge of his nose, your delicate hands cupping the sides of his face as if he were more precious than solid gold. Slowly the two of you leaned in, and the men were astounded to see their lieutenant drawn into a kiss more gentle and passionate than they thought him possible of.

The next week around base was unusually tense. Soap and Price sharing knowing glances in the hallway while Gaz didn't know how to comfort either of them. Oddly enough, though, Simon was beginning to return. It started slow. He stopped overlooking what price would say absentmindedly and the devotion returned, he would Scruff Soap again when he did something stupid or lipped off. Eventually, he was even back on his knees for price and forcing Soap back onto his. Why the change? No one understood. it's not like it was overnight either, no, this took nearly a year.

"Honeymoon phase must be up." Price surmised over a drink with Soap, eyeing Simon as he grabbed the next round from the bar. "Och, ya' don' think sir? Ya think Ghost would let somethin' like that happen?" Soap mused, his gaze focused on the same imposing figure. Then the little bell over the bar door Jingled, and they watched the Lieutenant's eyes melt in unprecedented warmth. A look they had only seen once before. Sure enough, there you were. Such a small nervous little thing, looking around like a lamb in the middle of a wolves den. in many ways, that's exactly what you were. From the moment that door opened, you were being eyed up by dozens of hungry soldiers, licking their chops and already standing to try their shot at you.

But no, Ghost would never allow that. Not his pretty little bird. His long strides made quick work of the distance between you, grabbing some poor private by the face and ripping him away from you. A hand snaked around your waist and pulled your flush against Simons chest. A soft squeak left your lips as Simon glared around the bar and placed his claim, walking you back to the bar where he could retrieve the round of drinks for the table and order one for you.

Simon brought the drinks and you back over to the table, sliding into the booth beside Johnny and gently guiding you to your rightful place in his mind, firmly on his lap. Your pretty face was so red, obviously embarrassed from the way you gave a small wave and bowed your head. like a scared little rabbit, they mused. "Thought I'd bring her 'round to meet you proper, so you don't have to stalk me 'gain." The Way he glanced between Price and Soap was impossible to miss, looking for their approval. Price took his time taking you in, every facet of your face, your demeanor, your actions. A satisfied nod immediately put Simon at ease, rolling his shoulders to relax them. Meanwhile, there was no questioning how Soap felt. You were so much prettier and sweeter up close, such a delicate little morsel. He had that look in his eye, that sparkle, that hunger. He had no issues trying to chat you up, encouraging you to drink your fill and call him 'Johnny'.

"This 's our pretty little thing." That simple line seemed to make everyone at the table pause, yourself included. Theirs? That meant? None of them should have been surprised, really. Simon clung tight to his hierarchy, and apparently you weren't going to break it, no, He had just nestled you in next to Johnny, under the category of 'his', maybe even below Johnny. "Our?" Your soft voice rang out as you looked over your shoulder at Simon, pulling an amused smirk to his lips beneath his mask. "Of course, love. Y're ours. You'll get used to it, lovie, don't you worry your pretty little head over it."

[canto-one]

If fear and hunger guys had tumblr:

💰 veteran-funger Follow

Hey! Did you know the dungeons of Fear and Hunger have treasure in them! For the low price of 50 gold, I'll sell you a treasure map. Dm me on discord thanks.

🗡 cumhara Follow

@celeste-on-hiatus I'll be back in a few weeks! Love you!

🍇 celeste-on-hiatus Follow

What.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I fucking hate le'garde. He keeps on having holy crusades for "Alll-mer" or something. MY WIFE AND CHILD DIED. I hate him so much. I want him dead. Sorry for the vent. It's been a tough week. I am going to track him down and kill him with my bare hands.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Le'garde isn't that bad. Calm down, the crusades had a purpose. Stop being parasocial about a guy you don't even know? Sorry about your wife but you gotta get over it. You're a full grown man.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I added "Le'garde apologists" to my DNI, leave me alone freak. Go and kiss Le'garde's ass somewhere else.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

I will! You know, they say Le'garde is in the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger?! Yeah. I'm going there. Fuck you. I'll save his ass and send you pics of us together.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Hey guys I'll be at the dungeons of fear and hunger for a bit.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Hey do you guys like my dog?

💀 old-night Follow

That ain't a dog. It has twice the amount of eyes??

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

Her name is moonless <3

🗡 cumhara Follow

@celeste-on-hiatus how do we feel about another kid?

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

On the way to save my cutesy bf! Wish me luck!

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Found some people in a cave.. gonna talk to them. Maybe they'd like to hear about alll-mer. I don't think they've left this cave before :)!

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Um.. they did not like alll-mer. In other words, a blue haired guy and a small girl saved me! Wish us luck. And yes guys, i do love legarde. Idk what "comphet" is? Sorry. Is that an old god? I read about that in a book.

🌚 rher Follow

Comphet is an old god, yeah. He's the old god of denial.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Oh thanks!

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Today I almost died as a sacrifice. Though, I stopped it because I had a vision. Apparently something inside the dungeons of Fear and Hunger is waiting for me. I'll update my blog as I continue on.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

I hear screaming. Dogs barking and a man crying. I'm reading.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Something broke through the wall. I'm reading. Lots of information to bring back.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Can't get fucking quiet in this dungeon. Gonna have to leave this library and find a new one. People are so inconsiderate sometimes.

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

Day one dungeons of fear and hunger. They gave me rotten flesh as food. Not befitting for a man such as I.

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

Day two, dungeons of fear and hunger. They chained me up and this rather large man has been watching me. Help?

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

I hear footsteps. Maybe someone's coming to save me!

⚔️ legarde ✅️✅️ Follow

I think the guard died.

🏹 legarde-hater Follow

I lived bitch.

🗡 cumhara Follow

Well I left the dungeons. No treasure but I got a kid I guess.

♟️ enki-ankarian Follow

Still reading.

🔮 nosramus-blogs Follow

Still reading.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

How to do necromancy

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Why doesn't he love me

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

What is a "lesbian"

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Why do i like when i see girls kissing

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Le'garde is dead.

🛡 legarde-no1-fan Follow

Leaving dungeons now. I didn't save le'garde but i found out i was a lesbian.

[caramel-catss]

trilogy (chapter 1: rabbit)

on ao3

word count: 26.5k

the first chapter of my links meet au

Three strangers, connected only by the triangle on their hands, join forces to save a dying world. Through hardship and healing, they will become family.

chapter art by @clowns0up-felix :)

(below is a snippet, the full is too long for tumblr lol)

Soft hands glide through Link’s hair. They untangle knots, picking out dirt and various pieces of grime. A warm, uncalloused palm brushes against Link’s cheek.

Even with closed eyes, Link knows who it is. She comes every night.

Link reaches out and grabs the retreating wrist. “Don’t go,” she murmurs.

A gentle hum pauses—one Link hadn’t even registered.

“I can’t stay,” Marin replies. She trails her finger around Link’s freckles, drawing constellations.

“I want you to.”

“I can’t.”

Link huffs; she’s always been the stubborn one, and Marin can’t win her out now. She doesn’t let go. Marin laughs, all chimes and Sea Lily bells. The free hand returns to Link’s hair.

Marin begins her song again. Link leans against the other’s lap, resting on her side. Her fingers drum a tempo for Marin’s melody.

In the distance, a voice calls. Link ignores it.

It calls again.

Marin says, “Your uncle wants you, Link.”

“Mm,” she replies.

The hands cease. “Link.”

“Don’t wanna.”

Marin gently flicks her. “You lazy girl… Come on.”

Link blinks her eyes open—only to catch Marin’s face before she goes—and meets a wooden wall. Shuffling footsteps sound behind her. She blinks.

“Link,” her uncle is saying. “It’s time to wake up.”

With her sword on her back and apples in her pouch, Link leaves Uncle’s house. She has a small list of chores: buy a red potion for Uncle, sell yesterday’s harvest, and get the Book of Mudora back from the Sage. 

Link fishes through her bag for an old plain blue ocarina. Zelda says that she’s insanely unorganized, but Link doesn’t care enough. She eventually finds it and calls for her bird, directing it to the Magic Shop. She haggles Maple down to 100 rupees—far better than she’s usually able to get—and sets off again for Kakariko.

Most of Uncle’s apples are reserved for cooking, making preserves, or just as snacks. The rest, Link is sent out to sell. They go for 15 rupees each, which isn’t much. The price is really a formality; Link’s more than rich from all her dungeon crawling, plus they’re on a royal pension.

The point is, they sell out quickly. Link’s there for less than twenty minutes before she’s brought down to her last three apples. She doesn’t mind all that much—anything that lets her leave Kakariko sooner. There’s been a lot of apologies over the past few years, but nothing can stop her nerves when she enters this place.

A figure comes into Link’s view. She straightens from where she was leaning against the weathercock (her makeshift stand). When she realizes who it is, though, she relaxes.

“Hey, Zel,” Link says.

Zelda huffs, not unkindly. She’s wearing a plain, tan dress. “Don’t announce me to the whole village.”

Link shrugs. “Want some apples?”

Her half-sister’s eyes flick to the three apples sitting on the weathercock. “Are those your last ones?”

“Yup.” Link nods. “Then I’m heading to the Sanctuary.”

“I’ll buy out your stock.” Zelda takes out three rupees, two red and one blue.

“Hey, thanks.”

Link starts to trade the items. Zelda says, too casually, “Can I walk with you? Over to the Sanctuary?”

“Mm.” Eyebrow raise. Zelda shakes her head, nothing urgent. “Sure.”

They take the eastern exit. Zelda sets a slow pace. Link fiddles with her medallions, curling the chain around her finger.

Zelda’s always been upfront—she speaks up soon as they’re out of earshot. “I had a dream last night.”

“Shocker.” Link is flicked on the ear.

“You know that’s not what I mean, idiot.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. What happened?”

Zelda’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s the thing… I can’t make it out. The world around me wasn’t Hyrule, but… it felt so familiar.”

“Could be a different time,” Link suggests. “Or a neighboring country. Heard anything from Labrynna or Holodrum?”

“No, and I don’t think it’s either of them.” Zelda pauses for a second. “It’s… There was blood all around, but I couldn’t see it… like it had seeped into the ground itself.”

“An old battlefield.”

“Something like that.” They’re nearing the Sanctuary. “There was new growth on top of it… and the plants were reaching for me. That’s when I woke up.”

Link hums. “Weird, but doesn’t seem like a prophecy.”

“Except all my dreams are prophecies,” Zelda argues. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just… I don’t know. I worry.”

“It’ll be okay, Zel. I can and will fight, so if anything does happen—”

“That’s exactly it, though.” Zelda’s tone makes Link pause. “You’ve… It hasn’t been that long since you… you know. You’re my little sister. I don’t want you to be thrown back into that so soon.”

Link bites at her cheek. Oh, that’s what this is about. Ever she returned to Hyrule last year, Zelda’s fretted over her more and more.

“I’ll be fine,” Link mumbles. “I’m doing better now, anyway.”

“If you…” Zelda trails off. They stop at the Sanctuary door. “…Keep taking care of yourself, okay?”

Link nods. “Okay.”

Zelda bids her goodbye and peels off back towards the castle. Sneaking in, no doubt. Link showed her the way last year.

Before she enters, Link sighs. She knows Zelda only means well. And, sure, the past months have been… rough. But Link can still hold her own—if nothing else, during combat. She’s only a year younger than Zelda, too! She just… Whatever.

Link grumbles as she elbows the Sanctuary door open. She greets the Sage, who tells her to wait a moment while he gets the book. Fine by her. Link retreats to one of the pews, opting to lean against it instead of sitting in it.

She whistles a short tune while she waits. Or, tries to—Mamu’s song comes to her mind first, but it’s way too fast for her to whistle. Link gives up after a few moments and instead opts to pull some hair out of her face. She pauses.

The Triforce on her left hand is glowing. Glowing more than usual, that is. Streams of magic trail down her skin. It’s warm, dripping holy and golden.

“Shit,” Link mutters. Her mark flashes, and the world goes white.

(read the rest on ao3!)

[hxroic-wxlls-fxrever]

Welcome to Hxroic-Wxlls (Again!)

Multi-Muse OC and Canon RP Blog

Contains a variety of muses from series such as Mario, Sonic, Fire Emblem, Gurren Lagann, Dragon Ball, and more

Super OC and Crossover Friendly

Memes Galore

9+ Years to RP Experience

Rules and Muses Below:

No God Modding:

No Vague Posting:

No rushing for replies/guilt tripping

Have Fun!

Muse List:

Super Mario Bros:

Mario

Luigi

Yoshi

Peach

Cappy

Chompette (Chain Chomp turned princess via the Super Crown:)

Starlette (OC: The cheery creator of the Mario!Verse. Despite her goofy nature and love for randomness, she loves all her creations, equally.)

Apricot (OC: Princess Peach’s younger sister. Mischievous and constantly searching for ways to entertain herself. Tends to skip out on important Royal duties, but loves the kingdom and its people all the same).

Maria (OC: Mario and Luigi’s niece, and the older sister to Louise. She idolizes her uncles and is full of energy, constantly on the search for adventure and is eager to prove herself as someone who can live up to the legacy of the bros.)

Louise (OC: Mario and Luigi’s niece, and the younger sister to Maria. Like her sister, she idolizes her uncles, but is much more reserved and shy when compared to her older sister. She tends to stay behind her sister’s back, but will stand up to help out if the situation demands it.)

Touhou Project:

Little Reimu Hakurei (Osana Reimu)

Minako Hakurei (Reimu’s Mother: Originates from Osana Reimu)

EX Rumia (Osana Reimu)

Youmu Konpaku

Fujiwara No Mokou

Hinanawi Tenshi

Shion Yorigami

Reika Hakurei (OC: The god of the Hakurei, in the Osana Reimu universe. After watching the future events of the family unfold, she granted all three of the protagonists with divine energy to prevent their sad fate from coming to be…which came at the price of her shrinking down to around Suwako’s size, and losing a majority of her energy. She can best be described as a ‘Lazy Neet who stays inside and plays video games all day.’ She does care, trust her. She’s just not good at showing it.)

Sendai Hakurei (OC: The previous Hakurei Shrine maiden, and mother to warriorsofcrimsonrealms’ Reimu. She’s a relatively quiet shrine maiden, who spends most of her time training to improve herself, both mentally and physically. Her devotion training can sometimes lead her to make questionable decisions, like sitting under a waterfall in the winter, but that same devotion is also the reason for her insane physical strength. She has a strong sense of duty, but isn’t too strict, either.)

Cirno

Anko Shinohara (OC: A regular ‘ol student who used to reign at her home town as a Street Fighter 6 Champion and Gaming Streamer, before one day finding herself lost in Gensokyo, after a field trip gone awry. Coming from the modern age of 2025, she’s well versed on modern day topics…mostly gaming. Don’t ask her too much about stuff outside of that, because she tended to ignore other topics that didn’t interest her… In Gensokyo, she managed to bring along her monitor, a PC, and her switch with a charger. So, she’s good on the gaming end…but didn’t bring anything else… So, to ensure she doesn’t starve, she works as an employee at one of the human village restaurants, with uh…not so much Grace.)

Chikara (OC: An Oni who had trained Sendai, when she was but a mere child. She encountered the soon to be Shrine Maiden when the young girl accidentally tripped and rolled down a hill in the forest, and came across the Oni in the midst of a training session. Seeing potential in the young girl, despite Sendai’s (old) scaredy cat behavior, she put her through a rigorous training routine where the young shrine maiden essentially had to fight for her life and survive in a simulation of a hostile wildlife environment, similar to that of a certain Namekian and Hybrid Saiyan’s training session in a certain manga. Chikara loves the thrill of battle, and can often be seen training in caves across Gensokyo, or visiting Sendai for sparring matches.

Yumi Konpaku (OC from Lost Word): An alternate Youmu who came from a different Gensokyo, one where she acted as the executioner in a land where contestant fought against each other in tournament settings, and she had to punish the losers. Like the regular Youmu, she enjoys gardening. However, there are a few key differences. One, she’s much more powerful due to her having much more time to spend training…but is also a terrible chef due to her time spent training taking away any time she had to learn how to cook. Hobbies aside, her blade glows red due to the blood it’s been stained with over many years, and is cursed due to all the souls it’s taken. Regardless, she’s a friendly soul, who didn’t enjoy what she had to do.)

Sakuya Izayoi

Gurren Lagann:

Simon

Kamina

Nia Teppelin

Simonia (OC: Simon and Nia’s child, who was born after the events of SRWX. She inherited her father’s core drill, his sense of passion and determination, and her mother’s kindness and curiosity. She idolizes her parents, and tries to follow their example as much as possible (except for her mother’s cooking. She did not inherit Simon’s tolerance for it, and got really sick after her first time trying it.)

Sonic The Hedgehog:

Sonic

Cosmo (Sonic X)

Shadow

Maria Robotnik

Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure:

Jotaro Kujo

Metal Gear:

Raiden (Revengeance)

Shiro (OC: A used to be child soldier who was experimented on as a weapon in the past, before breaking out in a failed test. She was found by Raiden in a warehouse, with a knife in hand, before being adopted into his household. Her memories of her life before the experiments don’t exist for her, no matter how much she tries to dig them up. She’s quiet, but deeply appreciates Raiden for his help, and consistently refers to him as ‘sensei.’ She wields her own personal HF Blade, and trains daily to mimic his combat style. Her favorite food is cereal, which she would have for breakfast lunch and dinner if left unattended, and has a bad habit of spending money on model Gundam figures, recklessly.

Fate:

Cu Chulainn

Elizabeth Bathory

Baobhan Sith

Kirin (OC: Quite possibly the world’s greatest girlfail, with more bags under her eyes than a group of people after a long shopping trip. She’s a middle school dropout who spent the next six years working job to job in run down areas, while barely getting any sleep and playing games 24/7. Once she turned 20, she suddenly got an invitation to work as a master for Chaldea. She initially deemed it a scam, but figured she may as well check it out, since anything was better than working at a bar with ungrateful customers. Soon enough, she found herself fighting in a war to save the world…which she finds completely insane, but kinda fun. The whole ‘threat of death’ thing is annoying, in her opinion, but she figured she could get over it. Personality wise, she can come off as unfriendly and anti-social with a large streak of trouble following her everywhere, but she CAN be nice in some instances… She is not shy about showing when she doesn’t like something to someone, though.

Kiran (OC: Kirin’s older twin, with just as many bags under his eyes, and worked just as many run down jobs before travelling with his sister to Chaldea to work as a master. He’s somewhat more responsible than Kirin, acting as her impulse control to a degree, but for the most part, he tends to behave very similarly to her and the two often finish each other’s sentences. )

Mash Kyrielight

Megaman:

X

Mad Father:

Aya Drevis

Honkai:

Murata Himeko (HI3rd)

Caelus

Bella

Marvel:

Spider-Man (MVC and MCU verses)

Final Fantasy:

Zack Fair

Dragon Maid:

Elma

Pokémon:

Latias

Latios

Malu (OC: Alola’s champion, who spends most of time relaxing and eating Malasadas with his Pokémon. Being someone who strives to find the most comfortable way to live, Malu can often be seen lazing about, wherever. Whether it be on the beach, in a tree, or one of the chairs in a Malasada store, him, napping, is a common sight across Alola. Regardless of his seemingly lazy nature, his skills as a trainer are nothing to take lightly.

Haruka (OC: A trainer from Johto who moved to Alola to take on the Island Trials and become champion. She’s hard working and determined to prove herself. Her efforts proved valiant…up until she got up to the current champion, Malu. She currently has lost to him a total of 87 times thus far, with no victory of her own, yet. Still, she eagerly challenges him whenever he comes by… She finds his presence somewhat irritating though, due to his seemingly lazy nature clashing with his insane combat skills.

Fire Emblem:

Male Robin

Female Morgan

Henry

Soleil

Madoka Magica:

Madoka

Bocchi the Rock:

Hitori Gotou

Ryo Yamada

Demon Slayer:

Kyojuro Rengoku

Dragon Ball:

Broly (DBS)

Goku (GT)

Vegeta (GT)

Gohan (Post-Super Hero)

Gamma 1

Gamma 2

Android 17

Android 16

Captain Ginyu

Mister Buu

Blorbro (OC: A time patroller Majin who travelled the world with an Outer Experiment of a girl named Saika, before being recruited into the Time Patrol. He brands super-hero like clothing, and idolized super heros, pro wrestlers, and the champ, himself, Hercule. He’s very laid back and prone to making jokes, but is also the most powerful amongst his group of three.)

Celera (OC: A time patroller Saiyan who worked as a scholar in Universe 6, before being recruited into the Time Patrol. She’s hard working and studious, often trying to find way to make the best of any situation in a logical manner…which makes her a bit irritable due to being surrounded by teammates who rely on anything but logic. Regardless, they’re her friends, and she does her best to keep the world a better place… Also, her natural hair and eye color is black, but gained white hair through a mishap with magic paint, and gold eyes due to a mishap with a spell in school. Both, of which, never got undone or fixed.)

Nio (OC: A time patroller elf who lived in secrecy and practiced dark magic, before being recruited into the Time Patrol. Despite her work in the dark arts, though, Nio is an energetic and extremely friendly soul, who wishes to prove to the world that even magic of this nature can be used to help others. She’s incredibly social…but tends to miss social queues due to having lived alone for so long.)

Kohlri (OC: Broly’s mother, who had abandoned Planet Vegeta in a fit after having heard news of Paragus and her son being sent away to a far away, abandoned planet. Due to her space pod malfunctioning during the trip, she made a crash landing onto earth, and had since been living there while adapting to Earth’s culture, in the meantime. Many years later, after the events of the battle between Broly and Gogeta, the former one day found himself meeting with his mother in the midst of a random shopping trip with Cheelai and Lemo. It didn’t take Kohlri too long to recognize due to both his scent, and tail. This resulted in a very tear reunion on her end, as Kohlri soon found herself walking into her son’s life, once again… Compared to her husband, she’s incredibly cheerful and outgoing, with great social skills…and an apparent lack of impulse control, given her purchase history. She’s also, however, who Broly inherited his rage boosted power ups from, given she goes into similar berserker states when powering up, without focus.

Neptunia:

Uzume Tennouboshi

Ultrakill:

V1

Vocaloid:

Kasane Teto

Akita Neru

Guilty Gear:

Sol Badguy

Yu-Gi-Oh

Yugi Muto & Atem

Kuriboh

Animal Crossing:

Villager

A Hat in Time:

Hat Kid

Kirby:

Kirby

Elsword:

Elesis (Flame Lord)

Elsword (Rune Master)

FNF:

BF

My Deer Friend Nokotan:

Shikanoko

Kid Icarus:

Pit

Omori:

Sunny (Omari!AU)

Corpse Party:

Sachiko Shinozaki

Fandomless OCs:

Akira (OC: A super laid back 27 year old woman who works at a small gas station in THE TOWN called Akira’s. She’s a friendly soul treats her employees and friends like family, and gives out EXTREMELY large paychecks, despite her only customers being the people from Mario’s apartment. There are rumors that she used to be a fortune goddess who reincarnated as a human, but she has yet to confirm anything…to the public, at least.)

Kiki (OC: A 19 year old ex-magical girl who was fired from being ‘too old to continue working.’ A fact that she found incredibly bizarre and annoying, but she couldn’t really do anything about it as she just suddenly woke up one day, with a ‘Fired’ letter next to her bed, and no powers. Having been launched back into a normal life so suddenly, after five years of dutiful work, she felt lost, until she moved to THE TOWN with her parents, and was hired by Akira. With such a large paycheck, and friendly co-workers around her, she was able to settle back into a normal life… The craziness of THE TOWN does make her life even more bizarre than it used to be, sometimes, though.

Ella (OC: The hired maid of Akira’s…who had no experience in anything regarding Maid work, beforehand. She signed up for the job due to the reviews of the place being friendly…and the paychecks being great. Most of her maid knowledge comes from anime that she watched, so she’s lacking in practical experience, and is plenty clumsy. Regardless, she enjoys her time at the gas station, and her fellow employees enjoys her presence, as well.

August (OC: A member of the Lethal Company, who recently moved to THE TOWN after being given a ten year vacation by the company for surviving ten years of work. She’s skittish, nervous, and very shy, which would be expected after having survived watching most of her co-workers die at the hands of supernatural beings and harsh environmental hazards. While she is happy to be in a ‘somewhat’ less dangerous environment, she does wish that she never took up the job opportunity to be a space excavator, and stool to working at Dairy Queen.)

Nis (OC: The young princess of the underworld, who rules over all its inhabitants with…a surprisingly lazy and gentle hand. Nis is someone who can best be described as a tired and calm soul, almost always being seen in her pajamas, and resting whenever possible. She’s spoiled rotten by her father, yet never acts entitled. Her favorite hobby is playing video games with her minions and friends…and playing with the magical girls in THE TOWN, who initially viewed her as a threat, but came to view her as a friend after realizing her work was mandatory, and that’d she’d surrender the very moment they showed up to fight her every time.)

Azure (OC: A void dragon appointed by the Underworld’s king to punish souls deemed unfit for the worst of the Underworld. Due to the souls being sent there being very rare and barren, void dragons often spend their time in human form lazing about and playing games in a mansion they made in the void, or the outside world. Azure, himself, isn’t much different. Often spending more time outside the void, than inside. He’s a laid back soul who enjoys playing pranks, and hanging with Rose and Nis, and his sister, Azul. He has a pet stone that he aptly named ‘Stone’, who is completely sentient and talks back, but to only him.

Azul (OC: A void dragon appointed by the Underworld’s king to punish souls deemed unfit for the worst of the Underworld. She’s Azure’s younger sister, and tends to stick by his side, for the most part. She shares his same sense of mischief, but is a little more energetic about it, being more eager to get involved, instead of waiting for the chance to come to her. Like her brother, she spends a good chunk of her time playing games with Rose and Nis.)

Rose (OC: An underworld devil and Rose’s right hand-man. She used to be a human, before suffering an untimely death at the hands of those she once considered friends. Unable to move on, who soul rested in a forest, before being recruited as an underworld soldier by the reaper. She now works at Nis’ side as a dutiful soldier…even if the monarch’s lazy tendencies tend to stress her out, a bit. Because of her being somewhat easily ticked off, Azure and Azul tend to playfully tease her a lot. This, of course, annoys her, but it never goes far.)

Violet (OC: A laid back swordswoman who left a town run by a corrupt kingdom to explore the world at her leisure, having been inspired by her friends at her childhood orphanage to find a better life. She explored the land with a sword in hand, and a carefree nature. When she’s not busy practicing swordplay, she’s finding quick jobs to make cash, so long as it adheres to her sense of morality, or crashing at places with anyone she’s found to be a friend, along the way.)

Mika (OC: A young magical girl who came from a ruined timeline where she was tricked by her magical girl contractors, the Miracle Mirans, into destroying all life on earth with illusionary techniques, making her think she was stopping monsters and saving the world, where instead, she was destroying everything on it. Horrified, she escaped into a different timeline where no such things had occurred, and managed to somehow settle back into a normal life…or so she’d wished. She still experienced horrific nightmares of her crimes, which makes sleeping for her incredibly difficult. Regardless, thanks to her having found a new group of magical girls to keep her steady, as her new friends, she’s finding it just a tiny bit easier to live a peaceful life, once again, in THE TOWN.

Haru (OC: A young magical girl who idolizes Shonen Manga and anime, such as Dragon Ball and Gurren Lagann. She fights crime with a fiery passion and will, while sometimes vastly overestimating how much will alone can do… It worked in Gurren Lagann, though! Her confidence aside, she was the first of the Magical Girls to meet up with Mika, and eagerly wished for her to be her teammate, until the two fought their first enemy together. After that, Mika relented and agreed to be in a team with Haru, in which the two celebrated with Karaoke, courtesy of Haru almost literally dragging her there. She’s aware of Mika’s past, but doesn’t bring it up to avoid making her uncomfortable, and defends her with all her heart and might.)

Lucky (OC: A young magical girl who became one of the world’s most rich individuals, as a result of her family being blessed with divine luck, and winning multiple lotteries over the course of their lives. She’s a friendly soul who became quick friends with Mika and Haru after become acquainted in school, and conveniently meeting up in the same place to fight a monster, when one showed up. Despite her immense funds, she never uses them as a way to make herself look better than others. Instead, she always uses her funds to try and help them/make their lives easier on them.)

Naomi (OC: A young magical girl who works as a part time shrine maiden. She’s incredibly serious when it comes to her work, both in magical girl duties, and out. She encountered the group of three magical girls in the middle of a losing battle, and jumped in to help. After a narrow victory, the group of three spent the next five weeks along her to join their group, in which she eventually relented after being saved by the three in a losing battle of her own. Due to her being the most serious of the bunch, she tends to butt heads with Haru, due to the other’s much more idealistic and joking nature… Regardless, she appreciates the company of all three, equally.)

Iamaslime (OC: The mayor of THE TOWN, who is a slime. He looks similar to that of the slimes in the world of Dragon Quest, and is incredibly lax with the rules of THE TOWN… Or in reality, lack thereof. There’s no actual rules, which explains why randomness and chaos is so apparent in this town. All forms of ‘authority’ are self-governed independent projects and have nothing to do with him.’)

Iamaslimetoo (OC: The mayor’s daughter, who looks similar to that of a slime girl from a certain half genie’s series. Like her father, she’s incredibly lax with the lack of rules in THE TOWN, and spends all her time relaxing, or hanging out at parties with her dad.)

John Gmod (OC: One of the two bodyguards for the mayor and his daughter, and the one with an actual sense of common sense. He’s consistently caught up in his partner’s shenanigans, and always ends up taking half the blame for the other’s nonsense, even if he had nothing to do with it. He wants to retire and move to Fiji, but with his current inability to hold onto funds, that dream seems like nothing more than a dream.)

John Dark Souls (OC: One of the two bodyguards for the mayor and his daughter, and the one who lack any sense of common sense. He’s consistently stirring up trouble, whether it be to him actively coming up with get rich quick schemes, attempting to show off in lame ways to get a date, like riding around THE TOWN in a tank, or just starting fights whenever it’s least beneficial for everyone. His dream is to have a harem and live as king of the world, but that dream is DEFINITELY just a dream.)