#tac vest superiority

[shirks-all-responsibilities]

Our bulge aficionado out here contributing to bulge discourse with a hypothesis and incisive supporting evidence. Best gift ever on this fine Christmas morning.

I am looooooooooooking at all of these, just...the confidence of that sunglasses lewk with the casual hand framing the *plentiful* bulge is burned into my brain, absolutely iconic. And, OK, the way the camera dips down on that brief shot, to make SURE we get a full appreciative glimpse of the bulge????? Bless. And the corduroys are back babeeeeeee! 😍🥵

Javier's Peña's bulge

Part 2: Tac vest edition

Hypothesis: Javier's bulge increases in size when he wears a tac vest.

Coming at you with the receipts because that’s how we celebrate Christmas in the bulge pit. Get ready to rip off the ribbons and wrapping paper.

I don't know what this sideways shuffle is, but goddamn if it doesn't give us bulge™ in spades. Is it really necessary, Javier? Is it?

Strut baby, strut. These pants should be illegal. If I had to pick a winner, this might be it.

Yes, this is a repeat post and I don't think anyone would fight me on this. That shirt is also one of my favourites in the show.

Another shot from the same episode as the first two gifs. It's like he's putting his hand there so we have something to compare the size of the bulge to. Thanks Javier, very helpful.

Just popping in a booty shot too. Don't mind me.

It's a brief shot, but what do we think? Are these the same jeans as above? They sure are just as tight.

Even in the background, this attention whore of a bulge™ still steals the shot. Javi out, indeed.

I know the commentary is short in this post, but I think I've said all I can say about the bulge™ well into the next year lmao. These posts have been a lot of unhinged fun, but I think I've earned a break from the B word for a while 😂

Thank you to you all for enabling these thirsty posts of mine, I've had a blast and I hope you have too! Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! 🎄

Related posts

Frankie's bulge

Javier's bulge, part I

Compilations masterlist

[drgnflyteabox]

something to remember you by

pairing: soap x fem reader summary: your boyfriend wants some memorabilia of you to take on his deployments. only, he wants his superior officer to take the photos. w.c: 3.7k tags/warnings: dubcon, cucking, mild degradation, oral (m + f, rough), hair pulling, un-negotiated kink, dom!soap, clothed man naked reader, teasing scent kink (m + f), one (1) pussy slap, crying, squirting, unprotected sex, some anxiety, reassurance mid-fuck, overstimulation, some aftercare, abrupt but open ending, reader has some internal shame around sex/kink, reader doesn't rlly like her bf

At first, it’s nothing. Dirty talk, suggestive texts, passing comments while he’s on his second deployment with a hand around his cock and you pretending to be into it.

"Think about it, babe," he’s panting, but it’s less sexy when you can tell he’s deepening his voice on purpose like Christian Bale Batman. "Don’t you wanna give me something to remember you by? While I’m out here fighting for you?"

Corny. So fucking corny. Your feet are kicked up on your coffee table, fuzzy-socked, face schlopped with a cooling gel mask. Quarter past 8 o’clock, and he’s trying to sell you on letting one of his army buddies fuck you and take pictures of you. The absurdity makes you almost laugh.

"…babe?" Oh, shit.

"Yeah honey, I’m here." You’d kind of feel bad, if it weren’t for the ick factor. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him, he was fine, it was just that since he’d joined the army he’d inched closer and closer to picking up a mic and dictating which body counts were okay to women over podcasts. That, and he’s gotten hornier. Kinkier.

Which is fine, really. Only you don't consider yourself adventurous. Sex is like a chore, something to put you to sleep, to relax the muscles. Relationships are quid pro quo - I suck your dick, you make my parents think I’m succeeding in life, deal?

Not to mention, you've never even considered stepping outside of the idea that sex is between committed couples only, sequestered away and hidden in the closet like old clothes.

"So, are you picturing it?" Schlap schlap schlap. He must’ve added lotion. "You can say no obviously, ughnnn, but I know this guy really well. I'd, ahhh fuck, sit in the other room."

"Thanks for being so considerate," you sound dry, but you’re honestly intrigued. Life has been monotonous since graduation, the transition from study to office… rough.

You aren’t adventurous. But you’re so fucking bored.

"Can I see him first?" On the TV in front of you, muted, Matthew Macfayden confesses his love tearfully in the rain. You want to be bewitched, body and soul. To feel something.

"So you’ll do it? Oh, fuck-" Not what I said, you think. His voice goes high, reedy, trembling with his orgasm. "See how fucking hot this makes me? I’ll send a pic, give me a sec."

It’s a group photo. He’s dressed in his uniform, head shaved, standing next to a group of a dozen or so men. Outlined, at the far corner with a group of guys big enough to dwarf a good third of the rest, is a man with building biceps and a smarmy grin and a confident, wide-legged pose. Hips jutted out. Fuck, he’s hot. You can see his bulge through his pants, through the picture, under a heavy tac vest.

"Get in, get in!" the apartment is clean for once. At least, clean without you getting sick of his clutter and playing maid. Did he do it himself to impress his friend? That makes you snort, but he doesn’t catch it, too preoccupied with his phone.

"Um, woah-" you start, taken aback. It looks like a porn set. There’s a plastic sheet on the ground in front of the couch. "I thought this was supposed to be casual?"

"It is, babe," he’s brushing you off, same as he did the few days leading up to this. You’d gone through some minor confidence and judgment crises, anxiety building like a balloon about to pop. All of which he’d brushed off.

It’s all fun and games, babe. Plus he’s done this before, he’s like a pro, showed me some videos - that was something you hadn't agreed to, just some pictures for him to take on deployments.

Still, trepidation makes you sweat, makes your thighs stick to the brown leather couch when you sit and try to sip water. Your socks crinkle the sheet.

You don’t turn when he arrives, still too nervous, knees stuck together and hands slipping on the glass from condensation when they start talking behind you. There’s too many what ifs - all reasons you’d used to avoid hookups in college, all reasons you wanted to break through your shell now.

Plus, you’re sick of hearing "did you finish?"

"This must be her," says an accented voice, gruff and maybe amused, "ye feelin' shy?"

No. You’re just nervous. Exposed. One of the only conditions you'd pushed was no cuck chair, but now you weren't sure how to feel to be left alone with him soon. This man is so big, so imposing.

"Hi," you say smartly. He looks just like his photo, only bigger. Bulging muscles and the same wide stance when he comes to stand in front of you. It’s only because you can’t stand sitting face-to-face with his crotch that you stand and hold your hand out to shake.

"And polite!" Loud. He introduces himself as Johnny, which makes your boyfriend's eyebrows raise. "So cute." he takes the liberty of bypassing your hand and grabbing your waist.

Oh fuck, he runs hot. His hands burn, even through your shirt. You feel self-conscious, plain, looking up at his probing blue eyes. They’re so intense, captivating, distracting you from the feeling of him getting closer and closer, till your tits are pressed to his.

"Hey-"

The moment breaks. Your boyfriend is looking at you both, unreadable expression on his face. Is he regretting this? Feeling emasculated, maybe? Hard to feel much sympathy when you’re the one about to get fucked.

And it was his idea.

"I’m gonna go to the bedroom," his eyes squint, flitting between the both of you before he scurries away, pants tented.

"Now that that's outta the way," Johnny grunts. "C'mere." And sits down with a grunt, pulling you to him.

You try to pivot, to sit next to him, but he's strong and coordinated so you wind up in his lap, back touching the arm of the couch and your legs slung over his, bum on one thigh.

"That's more like it, no?" there's that wolfish grin again, so close. One hand rests on your knee, possessively, while the other wraps around your shoulders and plays with your shirt. "Why don't we introduce ourselves?"

The hand on your knee moves to your face, gripping your cheeks in a grip hard enough to push your lips out into an embarrassing pout. You struggle a little, pulling at his wrist, but he doesn't budge.

He pulls his phone out, aiming the camera at your face, recording a video through a text-app. You can that it's a groupchat, assured by your boyfriend before that it was totally private, babe. This is jut between us.

"Now say hello," he puts his stubbly cheek next to yours, rubbing like a cat. "And introduce yourself."

"H'llo," you struggle through it, muffled by his grip. Your name is almost unintelligible, and your jaw starts to ache a little.

"Say, can I please suck your cock, sir?"

Your stomach tightens, right down to your pussy, which gushes a little into your panties.

"Cn'I please suck your cock, sir?" he's so fucking forward, just jumping in headfirst. The loss of control, your being told what to do, makes your clit jump. Sex has never been like this - you've never been so acquiescing.

"Of course you can, bonnie!" you're almost tossed to the floor, no gentleness as he pulls you toward him by the hair so quickly it almost makes you dizzy. He scoots to the edge of the couch, leaning back against it, and uses that strong arm to rub your face on his bulge. "Get me hard."

He puts his phone on the arm of the couch.

You flounder, hands finding his knees and trying to pull back. He doesn't let you.

"Use your mouth, kiss me," his hand finds a firmer hold on your hair as you start mouthing against him, tasting denim, smelling his musk, letting it get to your head and make you dizzy. "That's right, kitten."

His cock starts to chub under his clothes, and you almost wish you could feel it in your mouth. Oral isn't your favourite, but the way your pussy clenches around nothing and drips into your panties is making you think maybe you were wrong about yourself.

"Up, up," your face is rubbed a little raw by the time you sit up, looking at him. Waiting for instruction. "Everything off, except your panties."

You obey, stripping your shirt and bra and then your shorts. Your nipples tighten in the cool air of the apartment, goosebumps dancing along your arms and your belly. Self-consciousness almost has you reaching to cover yourself, until Johnny grabs you by the shoulders and twists you just enough that you're back to facing his phone.

"Look at these," he grunts in your ear, fingers finding your nipples. Pulling them, pinching them. It's not for you, it's for the camera. You feel like an object, an accessory, secondary to getting the shot of the rough pads of his fingers teasing you into whimpers.

You've never been more turned on.

"Nice, eh?" he pulls them up and out, which hurts, but draws a line of pure electricity from your nipples to your clit. "Whatd'ye think, L.T?" the name doesn't register. Army stuff, you assume.

You're turned back around sharply again to face his actual cock. He's pulled it from his fly, thick and leaking, while you were getting undressed. It's unfair, really, nice and long and curved.

"Ask me again," a statement. A command, phone discarded.

"Please can I suck your cock, sir?" the words make your cheeks burn, your body quiver, your clit jump.

"Ye can," laughter this time, worsening your embarrassment. His hand finds your hair again, pulling you down when you're too slow to touch your lips to the head of his dick. "I'm gonnae fuck your face, alright?"

Without waiting, he lifts his hips up and thrust into your mouth. It's not as deep as it can go, but you almost gag, unprepared. The next thrust is deeper, quicker. He's letting you build up to it, letting your hands rest on his knees for balance.

Your nose touches his pubic hair, inhaling the scent of him. Any attempt at hollowing your cheeks, sucking, licking, is futile. He's so quick that the best you can do is hang on for the ride, keeping your teeth in check.

Drool builds and spills past your lips, making wet sounds compete with his frankly pornographic moaning. He's a man possessed, using you while you squeeze your eyes against overwhelmed tears.

Finally he yanks you off of him by the hair, holding you up while you splutter from the unexpected change. Your hands go to your face, trying to wipe.

"None o'that, now," he bats them away, giving you a shake when you keep trying. "Leave it." like you're a bad dog.

Strings of spit connect your swollen lips to his cock, thin and gooey, that fall to your bare chest when he sits up.

You're turned, stood up and then guided to the couch to sit. Johnny slaps your thighs to get you to open them, lifting your feet for you so that your heels rest on the edge of the couch cushions.

"Awe, look how wet she is," he holds your legs, exposing your wet panties to him and to his phone, where he takes a few pictures. Again, you wonder about the appeal of this for your boyfriend. It's hot for you. Degrading, but hot. Or maybe more hot because of the degradation.

"Oh god," you say out of shock. You've never been so fucking wet in your life, and god forbid he sees how swollen with arousal you are underneath.

"Naw, just me," Johnny says, rubbing his knuckles over your pussy through the fabric. "She all wet and frustrated?"

You don't answer, hands keeping you sat up, chest heaving. You're still a little dizzy.

Johnny licks over your panties, mouthing over them not unlike what you did for him only a few minutes before. It's nothing, really, but you're so worked up that it startles a long, drawn-out moan from you.

He continues like this, never actually making contact with where you need it, with your skin. Every one in a while he turns his head to the side and grins, taking a picture or a videoclip while you tip your head back and resist begging him to just get on with it.

His nose presses on your mound, where he drags it down to your hole and sniffs.

That's what breaks your resolve.

"Please," you whine. Your voice is rough from taking his cock in your throat.

"Please what?" he opens his mouth and puts his teeth on you, not biting, just letting you feel them. Gnawing gently.

"Please do it," you look down at him, and even though he's on his knees you know you aren't the one in control. "Please lick my cunt."

A laugh, mean and condescending. Your eyes close in shame, pussy burning for attention.

"This cunt right here?" he pulls the gusset aside, whistling. "This desperate little cunt?"

"Yes, please," you curl your toes into the couch.

Something shifts in his eyes, some unrecognizable flash. It feels like danger, like you're in over your head. Johnny takes two fingers and rubs them over your clit, slowly at first, and then quickly when he feels how slippery you are.

Somewhere, a volcano erupts and it isn't comparable to the heat or the feeling of your clit finally getting attention. It zings through you, making you squeeze your muscles, taught and trembling.

The pads of his fingers are a rough sensation on your swollen skin, the worlds best vibrator, ribbed for your pleasure. All he does is rub, up and down over your clit, quickly and until your face starts to scrunch together in orgasm, trembling hard.

Then he pulls back and slaps you so hard on your pussy you scream.

You almost come from it, shocked, legs kicking out, skin burning and clit pulsing with desperation, back bowing. You keep making sound after, a long and drawn out aaaaaahhhhh while he grins like the cat that got the cream. Takes another picture, the click of the camera loud in the face of your disappointment.

The intensity of it almost brings you to tears, looking at him with betrayal and vulnerability in your face. You feel weak all of a sudden, cored, devoured, pulled apart as soft as slow cooked meat.

Your panties fall back over your skin, a minor comfort against the sting.

"Poor girl," Johnny says with false sympathy. "Let me make it up to ye."

Then you're up again, pulled and pressed against Johnny's chest until he pulls your underwear down and rearranges you to sit on his lap over his spread legs, yours dangling on either side.

"Gonna bounce ye on my cock, alright?" you nod. "Sit on it."

You lift your hips, using his knees for balance, and he guides the head of his cock to your hole. Stops you from sitting back right away with a hand on your hip, squeezing the soft flesh there, and holding you there.

"They're kissing," he laughs. You feel it, your cunt mouthing at him like a conscious being, separate from you. "Ye think they want tae meet each other?"

"Can I?" you don't fight to keep the whine out of your voice. You want to come, you want this aching and this emptiness to end.

"Can ye what?"

"Sit on your cock, please."

"Well, since ye asked so nicely," and then he notches himself properly again, and forces you down with two hands on your waist. You shout, arching, head thrown back. "Bounce on it now, kitten. Show me how badly ye want to come."

And oh god, you do. You rock forward, shaking at the feeling of him, no technique to guide you just pure intuition, brain and cunt and body as one. Distantly, the sound of the camera registers, but it only makes you move faster.

He spreads your cheeks, exposing where you're connected, putting the camera close to the wet clench of your cunt around his cock and - oh, he's filming it. There's no click, just the wet sounds of you riding him.

"Thas'right," he murmurs lowly, maybe for show. "You wanna come?"

"Yes!" you lean back, then, sweat slicked back sticking to his shirt, forgetting where you are and why you're here. Everything narrows down to your pussy, but you feel compelled to keep your hands off your clit even though you know it would make you come quickly.

You want to listen to him, to wait for permission. The thought is searing heat through your core.

Fingers find your face, slipping into your mouth. Your lips wrap around them, sucking like you would've his cock.

His other hand lifts his phone in front of you both, snapping shots of your unfocused eyes, your tits pushed into the air, his smarmy expression. He hooks his fingers then into your cheek, pulling back like a fishhook.

"Good girl," his lips against your ear, stubble scratching the hot skin of your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you for real now, alright?"

You nod, desperately. He pushes you up and off of him, face down in the cushion. He's still clothed, for gods sake, jeans rubbing against the backs of your thighs when he drags your ass back toward him.

The mushroom head of his cock finds your cunt again, pushing in, driving you nuts. You're moaning helplessly, letting him take your boneless arms to hold them behind you.

He fucks you like a man possessed, in a short strokes, barely leaving the hot clutch of your pussy. The sounds, if they were bad before, are worse now, wet and humiliating.

Every thrust feels like he's slowly inflating a balloon inside you, like something pulling taut, like pressure about to burst.

"Fuck, wait!" you shout and turn your head. The pressure is insane, mixed up with a building orgasm, twined together. He hasn't even touched your clit, and yet you're on the precipice.

Johnny leans down, lips on your ear. He slows, but doesn't stop.

"What is it, bonnie?"

"I have to pee," you'd have mumbled it before, but the feeling is so strong you can't help but whimper and cry. "Please let me up."

"Ye aren't gonna pee," he laughs. "Trust me, just trust me." Then keeps pistoning into you.

You feel like jello, like mush, the only solid part of you is about to burst and somehow it makes you feel real anxiety, dampening your enjoyment.

"Johnny-" you whimper, emotion clogging your voice. You feel vulnerable, held down and bared.

In need of reassurance.

"You're alright," he leans back down and nuzzles your wet cheek. "Ye can let go, kitten, I've got ye."

You gasp, pulsing hard around him, the feeling back again, before you gush around his cock, a spray so intense you cry as it forces him out of you.

"Good. Fucking. Girl!" he slaps your ass once, twice, on both cheeks. Rubs your flank like a horse and then plunges back into you when you finish dripping down your legs.

This is purely selfish, him fucking you hard now, jackrabbiting his hips into yours. You hear the phone again, just barely, as your ears ring.

You're raw from coming without any touch to your clit, a weird limbo between being on-edge and oversensitive.

"Gonna give me another," he's growling now, getting impossibly faster. You actually really cry when he reaches around to twist your clit, thrashing under him, not sure if you want to leap off the couch or crawl right back into him. "Come for me!" he shouts, pulling up the hood of your clit to really get at you, rubbing rough circles around your beleaguered little nub.

The second orgasm melts your brain out of your ears, so long and drawn out that you're still shivering with the aftershocks as he pulls out of you and paints your back with his release.

You pant, arm one arm dangling over the edge of the couch while you the other covers your eyes.

Johnny rubs a hand on your thigh, light and gentle, patting your bum as he stands. You move your arm just enough to squint at him.

His jeans are soaked.

You laugh, uninhibited, delirious. He laughs with you.

"All you, darlin'!" he takes another shot of you, pulls your legs apart and takes a picture of your wet, sore hole.

"Is she good?" ah, your boyfriend. He has his own wet spot on the front of his pants.

"She's good," Johnny confirms. "Ye need to take care of her now, right?"

Something in his voice changes. A different kind of authority to the one he used on you, one reserved for soldiers. For men beneath him. At that thought, your pussy makes a valiant effort to clench.

"Yeah, yeah," you hear. Your boyfriend has his phone out, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "These are great man, thanks."

You start to sit up, still shaking, but not wanting to have him see you that way.

"Man, you weren't kidding!" he goes on. Johnny frowns and steps forward to clap him hard on the back and grab his nape.

"Run a bath, do it now. Ye got granola bars?"

"Uh, yeah. Hold on."

You're touched by his concern, and wind up soaking in warm bubbles after he leaves. You wonder about the photos, about what you look like. If your boyfriend is satisfied, if Johnny is.

If you were good.

Feels like you were, but somethings changed. Johnny found a soft spot knife-deep inside you and dug himself in, made you fly and made sure you were brought back to earth after, tenderized and then wrapped in comfort.

Beneath the water, you touch your pussy. Not to masturbate, just to feel the soft sore flesh, to remember the feeling of fullness.

Maybe, after his deployment, your boyfriend will want more pictures.

Fresh material.

Beneath the water, your finger curls into yourself and you sigh, satisfied.

[mockerycrow]

ghost x gn!reader drabble — warnings; panic attack, military ptsd, hurt/comfort.

You weren’t sure what started it—if anything started it in the first place, actually—but your chest ached. It felt tight and restricted, as if you were wearing a tac vest with all of your gear. Sitting at a meeting table, you tried to keep focus on what Price has been talking about—was he talking about the last mission or the next one? Was he even talking about a mission?—and you tugged on your shirt so the fabric isn’t touching your chest.

You clear your throat quietly in an attempt to ease the tightness, but all it did was worsening it. Your hand rubs at your sternum, trying to massage the muscles, it begins to feel like your lungs are collapsing in on themselves. Your eyebrows pinch together for a moment as you shift in your seat, your heart skipping a beat before it begins to pound beneath your ribcage. You need to leave.

“Excuse me.” You say quietly, standing abruptly. The squeak of your chair interrupts Price and you swiftly leave the meeting room, leaving four pairs of eyes lingering on your back. You make it halfway down the hall before it feels like a rope is suddenly pulled tight around your chest and abdomen, your lungs stuttering in your chest. “Shit—“ You gasp, one hand grasping at the wall, the other at your chest.

Your eyes shut for a moment as you hear your blood rushing in your ears, as if you’re on the field and you just had a close call. You press your shoulder into the wall instead of leaning on your hand, your fingers trembling as they pull at your shirt. The weight just won’t leave, fuck, you can’t breathe—

You feel a hand touch your shoulder and you gasp, shoving their hand away. Your eyes fly open, wide and feral—to see Ghost with his hands up, as if he’s trying to calm you. “M’sorry, you couldn’t hear me,” Ghost utters, his voice low as he tries to soothe you. “Need ya to listen t‘me, yeah? Won’t touch you again, promise. Just take a deep breath for me.”

You appreciate that he won’t touch you as you’re sure any more touch will crack your ribs and puncture your lungs. Your eyes roam his face as you suck in another sharp and panicked breath before nodding. You hold your breath for a moment before taking a shaky inhale, earning a, “Yes, just like that, doin’ so well. Another one, love.” from your superior. “I know it hurts, vision’s prolly fucked. Take another deep breath… that’s it.”

[thatswhyilovetheghost]

Easy, girl.

Whumptober Day 1 : 'Swooning'. (No, I'm not posting day 1 on the 13th)

Captain John Price x f!Medic Reader

Summary: The Captain isn't impressed by his medic's tendency to overwork herself.

A.N. : Only mild whumpage in this one, fainting w/ hurt/comfort <3

The interrogative call of your name nearly makes you jump out of your skin, head crashing into the surface of the desk you were rifling through folders under. You hiss a curse between your teeth.

Turning around, you're met with the displeased face of the Captain of your assigned squad, firm hands resting on his hips as he glares down at you, brows furrowed.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he starts, "but didn't your shift end about four hours ago now?"

Eyes widening, you raise your wrist to check the time, only to be met with a glaring 01:00.

"I- sorry, Captain, I was just sorting out some paperwork which-"

"Which can be done tomorrow," he interrupts, sending you a reproachful look that raises your hackles.

"It's fine," you snap, rising to your feet, arms now full of folders. "I've got it all under control, Captain."

The rapid movement makes your head swim. You stumble slightly and blink away the blur.

"Mm, looks like it," he snarks, concern underlying his tone.

His sarcasm only serves to make you prickle further. You huff, steadying yourself on your feet before making your way to a filing cabinet.

Or, attempting to at least. The increased motion sends your vision to a white flash that quickly fades to black nothingness. The last thing you feel before you pass out is a set of strong hands grasping at you, pulling you close.

When you wake it's with a gasp, as though you'd been drowning but pulled to safety. There's someone holding you, tight and close. You squirm at the restriction.

"Shh, easy - easy, girl. I've got you. You're alright."

The voice that hushes you is deep and rich, a slight familiar gruffness to it. Forcing your eyes open you find yourself looking straight into the piercing blues of Captain Price.

Captain Price, your Captain, whose lap you're currently settled on.

Price, who is sitting on the floor, legs crossed and back flat to the wall, must have scooped you up before you hit the ground and curled you into him while you were out.

Fuck, how long had he been holding you like this?

He lifts one hand from stabilising you at your hips to your jaw. Holding your chin up to get a good look, Price scans your face, scrutinising every blink and wince you make.

"Sir-" you rasp drily, feeling your face warm both in embarassment at fainting in front of your superior and at the situation it had left you in.

"There she is," he cooes, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on your skin. "You feel alright?"

You nod, hyperaware of his proximity.

"Y-yes sir, thank you," you manage.

"Good girl," he nearly sighs in return, eyes flicking over your face once more as though for his own reassurance. "Think you're ready to listen to me about gettin' some sleep now?"

Price chuckles under his breath as you turn away in embarassment, rubbing a broad palm up and down your thigh in teasing comfort.

Without another word, Price lifts you up like you weigh no more than a feather and shifts you into a bridal position in his arms as he rises to his feet.

You squeak lightly in surprise, and if Price notices you hiding your face in his tac-vest he doesn't mention it.

Slowly so as not to make you dizzy, your Captain carries you over to an empty cubicle in the medbay.

"Shh, there we are," he soothes, bending at the waist to lower you into the bed. There's a comfortable silence as Price pulls the blanket over your form, ensuring all of your limbs are tucked into its warmth. "How's our lovely medic s'posed to take care of us if there's no one looking after her, eh?"

You feel your heart pounding at your ribs at his words, wide eyes looking up at your Captain.

"Thank you, sir," you speak softly, suddenly finding yourself imagining what his lips might feel like against yours.

"Always, love," he whispers, dropping to press a kiss to your cheek before walking away. Price pulls the curtains to your bay closed, turning to take one last look at you before retreating to his own quarters.

When you wake up that next morning you aren't sure if you dreamed the softness from your Captain, but the look he gives you later when he comes in to check on you reassures your mind.

Your Captain had his eyes on you now, and the man was not known for giving up. If he had to take you to bed himself every night from then on, then so be it. He was sure you'd let him tire you out.

[kirsteng42]

I always think it was a waste of an awesome look that he was goingto rescue the stupid blonde idiot!!!! It was a very good episode though and he is just sexy AF as usual

Alpha in position.

[sickeninglyshoujo]

Idk if you do requests or suggestions n stuff like that, so feel free to ignore this, but how do you think Simon would feel about a significant other who got caught in an explosion or something that badly scared/disfigured half her face?

She’s not insecure enough to hide her face because of it, but she gets irritable when people stare, and will will sometimes make self deprecating jokes about being an, “eyesore” and how she, “ain’t exactly a beauty anymore”

a/n: this is actually the first time anyones requested anything from me and it made me so happy omg

masterlist here

buy me a ko-fi

warnings: mentions of injury, blood, scars, a dash of smut

word count: 1.4k

The scarring that covered a little under half of your face rarely bothered you. The occasional tightness or twinges of pain with the weather changes was the worst of it and nothing that couldn’t be remedied with a thin coating of bio oil and a gentle massage.

The appearance of the scarring didn’t bother you either, compared to the angry red skin that had first grown back after the explosion.

One misplaced charge by a newbie to blow open a door had sent you sprawled on your ass, your pride hurting. You’d hardly noticed the pain until you’d seen Johnny white as a sheet when he kneels down over you, “Don’ worry lass, ‘ve gotcha.”

“Johnny?” You ask, a little out of sorts from the shockwave of the charge.

“Lass, ‘ve gotcha!” He affirmed, stripping your helmet and his tac gear, before his thin cotton vest was pressed over your face.

“Ah know, lass, best ah can do now.”

“Can’t see, Johnny…”

“Hush, lass, gotta keep you covered. Yer in a state… Bleedin’ through already.”

Johnny kept heavy pressure on your face, barking out orders at the others on how to complete the mission, all the while holding his vest pressed tightly, so tightly onto your face.

“S-soap, i’ hurts,” you moaned.

“Hush, lass, we’ll get out soon,” His hands disappeared from your face and you were being hauled up into his arms, “Gotta finish the mission then we’ll get you to a medic, promise.”

Ghost is in the medical wing before your wounds have even been cleaned, “Where’s the fucking shithead who placed the charge!”

You blink, swiping at some of the blood covering your face.

“The rookie’s still in debrief, Ghost, she only came here because she needed medical,” Soap says.

“Get that little asshole in here, he’ll need medical by the time I’m done with him.”

The healing had been slow and painful as your nerves knit themselves back together.

“You don’ have to worry about getting revenge on the rookie, lass,” Johnny said one day as he visited you in the medical wing, “Ghost has been at the poor dog’s heels, not giving him a moment’s rest. Think he’s about to keel over and die from the amount of suicides hes been given.”

Ghost sleeps in the armchair next to your bed.

Ghost helps to remove the stitches after you insisted on not returning to the hospital.

Ghost is the one who helps to massage the medicated creams on while you grit your teeth at the bone deep pain that radiates.

Ghost is the one ready to bite off heads when people so much as let their eyes linger on the raised and angry skin.

“Don’t worry about it, Simon, I really don’t mind the looks much. People are just wondering what happened,” The mission had been need-to-know and even the details of your injury weren’t allowed to leave confidential briefings.

Your opinion changes as your scars settle into a raised and mottled mauve, pockmarks and dents covering half of your face, the stares on base continue.

“What, you’ve never seen an eyesore before? I think you’d be used to looking at one in the mirror every morning with a face like that,” You snapped at a new recruit who had completely stopped in his tracks, mouth opened in shock at your appearance, “Meet me in the gym tomorrow at oh-six-hundred. You’re going to learn to respect your superiors' battle wounds the hard way,” You snarled out at him.

Off base, the stares are worse so you begin to limit your time on leave.

You grit your teeth and set your face in a hard line in public, schooling your expression so that people don’t notice the way that their wide-eyed glances hit you like punches.

You don’t notice how fewer stare when Ghost is around, he’ll glare them down over your head and make them scurry away before their eyes even reach you.

You don’t notice the way Ghost’s eyes darken in the rec room when you make a joke to the lads about being “damaged goods” and “Frankenstein” even if your eyes are filled with tears of laughter as you cackle at your own jokes.

“Don’ like hearing you talk like that,” Simon corners you after you leave the rec room to refill your drink.

“Jesus Christ! Simon! You nearly gave me a heart attack!” You clutch your chest where your racing heart resided, “Give a girl some warning before I attach a bell to you.”

He didn’t speak for a beat, “I don’t want to hear you calling yourself ‘damaged goods’ anymore, love.”

“Just speaking the truth, Si,” You gestured at your face, the still painful and shiny skin, “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought it too? I know I wasn’t winning beauty contests before, but now I would probably be better as a scare actor.”

“Tha’s not true.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m your girlfriend!”

“If I was bein’ nice I’d tell you tha’ you were the scariest,” Simon begins, still kissing down the line of scarred flesh, now reaching your chest, free of scars.

“You’re so pretty,” Simon murmurs against the line where healthy flesh met mottled scarring, “Want you to say it back to me, love. Need to hear you say it.”

The healthy skin of your face began to flush, nearly matching your scars in color, “Si-”

“I need you to know how pretty you are to me, before and now,” His kisses continue tracing your healed wounds, “Never seen a prettier bird.”

His hands trace your hip bones, settling at their crest, “Before I could only think how soft you were, that I had to protect you on missions. Nearly got my head blown off more than once. Now all I can see is how strong you are,” His hands begin to trail lower, petting over your stomach and then lower still.

“There she is,” He coos when you jump as his fingers make contact, “Now tell me how pretty you are for me doll, wanna hear you say it before I make you cry it f’ me.”

He makes you cry that night.

He switches from nipple to nipple, “Say it, lovie,” He tells you as he pauses to thumb at your nipple, giving his mouth a break.

“‘M pretty,” You whimper out.

“Again,” he says, kissing down your stomach, “Give yourself another compliment, sweet girl.”

“Si!”

“I’ll help you pretty girl,” He coos at you, in between mouthing at your hip bones, “You’re strong, now say it.

“I-I’m strong,” Now his mouth travels lower still, you wriggle trying to rush him into going faster. He can tell your game and deliberately pulls his mouth off, “You’re impatient too, lovie, but I’ll forgive it and give you what you need if you give me another compliment.”

“‘M not an eyesore!”

“That’s right, you’re beautiful, lovie,” He finally lowers himself to give tiny licks at your clit sending you jerking up into his mouth.

“Everytime you say those things about yourself it drives me mad that you don’t see what I do. Even with your scars you’re still beautiful and sexy and knowing you’re all mine makes me hard as a fucking rock.”

You whimper under him, trying to grind down onto is tongue to get more, more, more.

“So pretty for me, pretty face, pretty body, pretty cunt,” Simon murmurs into you, pulling his mouth away just long enough to watch his fingers tease along your hole before slipping one inside, “Givin’ me the prettiest little moans when I touch…here,” He crooked his fingers inside of you and made you jerk under him, crying out.

“The scars just make you prettier, dove,” Simon says, “Shows me you’re real and can take anything the world can give you. That you can’t be taken from me.”

His words fizzle into your brain as you grind down onto his finger everytime it thrusts into you, “Si, more,” You pant out, “Need more.”

“Gimme another one, pretty girl.”

“‘M brave,” You can barely get the words out, torn between trying to whimper out praise to yourself to try and get Simon to do more or to beg him for it instead.

“Good girl, you’re listening so well,” He slid another finger inside of you, “You’re so brave sweet girl,” He kissed your thigh.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

ok what is your most fave javi outfit of all time? remember JUST ONE (I know it's hard lol)

NO. THIS QUESTION SHOULD BE ILLEGAL, I AM CALLING THE COPS ON YOU IMMEDIATELY. HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME CHOOSE?!?!?

Okay, legit I have had to think so long and hard about this because this is not something I take lightly... I'm gonna kind of cheat and give you a 1st, 2nd and 3rd place ranking (because who am I to deny the people of this fine app any less Javi than they deserve 🤷🏼‍♀️)

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, I PRESENT TO YOU MY CHOICE(S)

Coming in at 3rd place, we have the blue button down and the grey khakis (PLUS THE TAC VEST). This is a god tier outfit, I don't make the rules. The slutty little buttons undone, the belt, the pants (THE PANTS 👀), I don't know what else to tell ya. Also without the tac vest this outfit gives me dad!Javi vibes 🫠

In 2nd place, I present to you GREEN SHIRT JAVI. Dude, when I tell you that this outfit literally changed the trajectory of my life forever, I do not kid you. SPECIFICALLY THIS?!?!?!

THIS?!?!? THIS RIGHT HERE?!?! I rest my case.

and FINALLY, coming in 1st place is my dearly beloved, the one, the ONLY, RED FLANNEL SHIRT.

I will never get over it. I never will. Every time I see it is more magical than the last. From the moment I first saw this episode I knew there was nothing in life I needed more than that man in a flannel shirt living his best domestic life. I have dreams about this outfit. This outfit has won a Nobel Peace Prize, this outfit is Time Magazine's Person of the Year, this outfit has been given the Presidential Medal of Honor. There is no outfit superior to this and I will (respectfully) fight anyone who says otherwise.

Let's be honest, Javi could put on a sack of potatoes and he would still be the hottest man in the room 🤷🏼‍♀️ Love 'em or hate 'em, these are my choices and I will defend them with honor 🫡

[legendary-pink-dot]

Hey, Dot! Quick question. Which pair of pants is superior?

These:

Or these?

(Do you like how I used YOUR gif to tempt you with Frankie? 😘)

🥵

How the hell am I supposed to answer this one, @goodwithcheese ?!

Bear with me while I attempt to work through this...

Javier: THAT pair of pants, eeep. My fave. They're so tight he can't even walk properly (one of my fave Javi traits -- bless you Pedro for insisting on this for your costume). The tac vest. And the twitchy Javi fingers being extra twitchy, right there, calling extra attention to the area that needs some lovin'... sigh. Who could resist Javi when he's like this (or at any time, really)? 🥵

Frankie: Well. I think my love for those tight khakis is very well-documented. Aren't they a little too tight in certain areas to be comfortable, Pedro? Would a special ops guy wear them THAT tight on a mission? I guess not, and honestly, I don't really care because I get so much enjoyment from gawking drooling staring disrespectfully looking at them. Thank you, Pedro. Who could resist Frankie when he's like this (or at any time, really)? 🥵

... I'm still finding it really hard *cough* to choose. Damn you, Megan.

I'll have to take this contest down to the, erm, little details.

Frankie's khakis are wet. (From the rain, Megan. The rain. I know where your filthy little mind went. Though it could also be from letting me ride his thigh and soaking it, which sounds more fun for both Frankie and me, so let's go with that presumption.)

Frankie will want to get out of those wet khakis quickly (with my eager help of course), whereas Javi looks comfy there with his dry jeans and may require some coaxing.

Javi's dry jeans would probably slide off easily, even though they're pretty damn tight. Frankie's wet khakis would have to be peeled off, which might take a little longer.

Frankie's legs might be cold and require some extra assistance to warm up, which I will once again happily provide. Javi's looking a little too comfortable there in the temperate Colombian climate.

Where is Javi going? He's a busy man and has somewhere to get to. And he has people with him. I'd have to make up some excuse to get him alone. Whereas Frankie and I could jump straight into that dry van, drive into a secluded area and proceed to gettin' those wet khakis off him immediately.

In conclusion... I'm leaning towards Frankie. Please don't hate me, Javier. Hate the game, not the players. 🤷‍♀️

[kirsteng42]

in a tac vest, being in charge, close up on his hands and speaking spanish, Jeez man youre killing me 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

PEDRO PASCAL as JAVIER PEÑA in NARCOS | 2015 – 2017

[cowboy-turtle]

Black Jeep Boinkin' pt. 2

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

Words: 4.8k

Tags: smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, semi-public sex, car sex, unprotected piv, tac vest stays on during sex (!!)

A/N: co-written with fellow Javi whore @queen0fchaos 💛

Read Part 1 Here

(found this gif online uncredited - let us know if this is yours!)

This was just like any other mission, a simple raid that you could execute with your eyes closed. The target was simple: Blackbeard, also known as Escobar’s accountant. Your intel was good, you knew he wouldn’t be heavily armed or guarded, maybe 3 guys with him, give or take a couple, so there’s no need for it to end in some crazy shootout. Secure the location, grab the target. Easy. Clean. Maybe that’s why Javier’s condescending superiority over calling the shots was particularly getting on your nerves today.

The team was pouring over blueprints spread out against the hood of his Jeep, conversing over the best plan of action to take down a secured hideout inside the building you were about to drive to. You wanted to go with a more stealth approach, securing each floor until you could ambush them when they least expected it. But Javier with some machismo bullshit wanted to run in guns blazing, catch them off guard with the blunt force of your entrance to scare them into compliance.

“What a stupid idea,” you shoot at him in the heat of the moment, rolling your eyes as you straighten up from your leaned stance against the car. “That’d alert them way too early for an easy escape.”

Javier takes a step towards you and crowds your space as he spits back at you, “And taking our sweet ass time making friends with their neighbors is any better?” He grinds his jaw, nostrils flaring, and suddenly you aren’t sure if he actually means it, or if he’s only taking his anger out with this mission.

“All right, all right,” Steve places a hand on either of your shoulders, pushing you apart gently. “Why don’t we get there and do some surveillance before we decide?”

Javier’s eyes challenge yours but you simply shrug in response, dropping Steve’s hand off you so you can climb into the backseat. You catch him shaking his head as he sits shotgun, Javier starting the car with tensed fingers. The drive over starts off silent until you let out a sigh, glaring out the window before you turn your head to catch Javier staring at you in the rearview. He opens his mouth just as you open yours.

“I just think it’d be really stupid--”

“If you’d only fucking listen to--”

“Enough!” Steve orders, hands up as his patience breaks. “God, you two can be unbearable sometimes.”

“Sorry I don’t want us to be sitting fucking ducks when we get in there,” Javier mumbles under his breath.

“So instead you want a shooting contest to see whose gun is bigger?” You can’t help the smirk edging into your voice. “Or are you just trying to compensate in that department, Peña?”

Steve tries to disguise his chuckle as a cough as Javier rubs his thumb over his bottom lip, normally a sign of annoyance but you can see the dimple of his smile twitch.

“Why don’t you let me know, princesa?” his voice an octave lower. “Seemed adequate enough for you.”

Steve groans loudly, dropping his forehead against the window with a quiet thunk that has you laughing a little too hard to hide the heat flashing across your face. Javier slows the Jeep to a stop, tucked away down an alley from the main road, the building you had scoped out down the street. Steve offers to do a quick walk around of the building and you tag along, throwing one last look at Javi as he lights up a cigarette, lounging against his Jeep.

The two of you make quick work staking out the area before you’re returning to him, his tac vest now fit snugly around his chest as he watches you approach. He looks so good in that, you think, his broad shoulders and slim waist accentuated, but you quickly shove down that thought as you stick your chin out at him.

“The exits--”

Javier holds his hand up to stop you and nods at your other partner. “What’s your call, Murphy?”

You feel your anger start to rise up again until Steve’s next words come out. “She’s right,” he says, reaching through the opened window to retrieve his own vest and handing you yours. “We should aim for a stealth approach.” Javier opens his mouth to protest, hands on his hips as he shifts his weight to one side, but Steve only shakes his head and walks away.

"What’d I tell you, Peñita," you tease, using the nickname you know he dislikes just to see how far you can push his buttons. “Even Steve is on my side with this plan. You can’t just go in guns blazing all the time like you’re fuckin’ Rambo.”

You can’t help but smile when you see his eyebrows raise behind those amber aviators he wears, his eyes following your every movement while you strap your vest on, making sure it’s secure. Javi lets out a quiet huff and you can’t tell if it’s in amusement or irritation but you don’t have much time to think about it before you see your backup arrive. You watch as Steve greets them and informs the team to proceed with your plan so you turn your focus back to Javier with a smirk. “What, no witty comeback? You’re off your game today.”

“You can go fuck yourself,” he snaps back in a low, aggravated tone, leaning in towards you with his finger extended and in your face, really trying to drive his comment home. His eyes are dark behind his sunglasses and the humor in his voice dropped. Javier Peña was suddenly all business, the frustration of you being right and Steve, of all people, taking your side now showing through clearly as you notice his other hand twitching at his side.

God. That shouldn't turn you on as much as it does, but you feel the heat of arousal build low in your belly. There’s something so sexy about Javi when he’s frustrated - the way he furrows his brows, the way he clicks his jaw, and most of all the way he always wants to fuck the tension out. You lick your lips before leaning forward and whisper low in his ears, so that only he can hear, "Happy to. Would you like to watch?"

Javier looks around before taking a step closer to you and grabs your wrist, hard. Your heart rate speeds up and your breathing starts to hitch, a combination of arousal and nerves clashing together. He’s so close now you can feel his breath on your neck and it takes everything in you not to react.

“You fucking brat,” he growls through gritted teeth. “You think you can get away with saying that shit to me just because we’re surrounded by people? God I have half the mind to-“

“Oh no, Peña, are you gonna punish me?” you cut him off over emphasizing every syllable, the sass dripping off your tongue. You know you’ll be paying for it later when the two of you are alone but getting each other worked up like this was half the fun. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, Javi slowly drops your wrist and places his large hand between your thighs. You know he can feel the warmth radiating from you - your body betraying you as you try to keep your composure. He moves his thumb slightly, applying pressure right over your clit causing your entire body to shiver at the contact. Your breath hitches and you look around nervously, but you don’t dare move.

“Don’t…push me,” he whispers with a hint of desperation in his voice. He circles his thumb slightly and presses a little firmer, causing a soft yelp to escape your lips. You feel your arousal begin to pool between your legs, suddenly regretting taunting him in the first place, knowing it will be hours before you can find any sort of relief. “The second we’re alone, I plan on having you beg for my forgiveness.”

He pulls his hand back and smacks your pussy lightly before turning and walking away, leaving you needy and breathless and no relief in sight.

—

The raid went off without a hitch, naturally. It was your genius plan after all. There had only been five of Escobar’s men, one at each entrance and just one on each floor, with Blackbeard in his office, still writing in the books by the time he looked up and saw the three of you in the doorway. The CNP officers had quickly and quietly taken out the guards, subduing them before they had a chance to react or alert the others, leaving the path clear for you to make a clean arrest.

The three of you are leaning against the Jeep as you watch a couple of officers shove Blackbeard into the back of their truck. The rest of them are bringing out box after box of evidence and you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle of pride.

“Well, would you look at that, Peña,” Steve scoffed with a pat to Javier’s shoulder. “You gotta give your girl some credit. This was the easiest damn raid we’ve had in a while.”

“Fuck off, Murphy” Javi replies with a grin. He has to admit you might have been right. Sure, his tactic probably would have worked, but there would have been a lot more destruction and this way you were able to collect an incredible amount of documents, pinpointing where all of Escobar’s money was hiding, and definitely enough of a papertrail to solidify his guilt ten times over.

“No, Javi, he’s right,” you nod in agreement. “You should give me some credit. Especially after all the grumbling you did the whole morning. Is it that hard to believe that woman might actually know what the hell she’s doing?” You pick yourself up off the Jeep and start to head over to the CNP vehicles to catch up with the rest of the officers before heading back to base when you feel a tug on your vest keeping you in place.

“Hey, Murph, why don’t you head back with the rest of the guys,” a playful yet dominating tone emanates from the man holding you in place. “I think there are some things we need to work out before we get back to base.”

He cocks his head towards you while keeping his eyes forward at Steve and you see a sly smile creep over his face. “Apparently someone needs some appreciation for her ‘genius plan’ but you know how I am with words, I’d rather show not t-“

Steve groans and rolls his eyes, holding a hand up to cut Javier off. “Spare me the details, Jav,” he says with a mix of humor and slightest hint of disgust. “God, you two are ridiculous. At least I’m not walking in on it this time. Enjoy, I guess.”

You stand there, held in place by Javi’s grip on your vest, as you watch Steve exchange a few words with the Colonel before hopping into the final car and driving away. I plan on having you beg for my forgiveness - Javier’s words from earlier suddenly echo in your head and a rush of nerves mixed with arousal washes over you, unsure what his intentions are.

“Javi, earlier I-“

“What did I just tell Steve, princesa?” he cuts you off and tugs back firmly on your vest causing you to fall back into the door of the Jeep. Before you can say anything else his mouth is on yours with a bruising kiss and he crowds your body with his hands placed on either side of your head.

“Such a smart fuckin’ mouth you got, don’t you baby?” he whispers as he works his lips down your neck, one of his hands working its way into your hair and pulling your head to the side.

“Javi,” you gasp as he begins to press against you, positioning his leg between yours and you can feel his erection straining through his jeans pushing against your hip. Your hips roll involuntarily, searching for that pressure, that friction, anything to help relieve the tension that had been building within you for hours.

“Ja-Javi,” you try again. He grunts in response, hands frantically trying to feel more of you. He undoes the straps of your vest and rips it over your head, tossing it to the side of the Jeep and landing in the alley with a soft thud.

Javier makes quick work with the top buttons of your blouse, undoing them with his deft fingers and covering each piece of newly exposed skin with wet kisses. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to show his appreciation rather than use his words and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t prefer it this way. With each kiss he mutters praise into your skin, “Beautiful girl, so smart, brilliant plan” until he’s undone enough buttons and a warm hand meets your breast with a firm, yet gentle, squeeze.

You can’t help the whimper that escapes your throat and you feel the way Javi’s lips curl into a smile, loving the sounds he’s able to elicit from you. He gives you another soft squeeze before pulling down your bra and exposing your tits to the cool air. He takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your hardening peak and pinches the other with his calloused fingers.

“Javi, wait,” you finally manage to gasp out between breaths, “we can’t just do this out in the open.”

“Oh, princesa,” Javi chuckles as he releases your nipple from his lips, “I’m happy to take this inside.”

He pulls you forward by the waistband of your jeans, just far enough out of the way to reach behind you and open the door to the back seat. As a practice of habit, he places one hand behind your head as a guide while the other spreads out across your chest and shoves you back across the seat.

His body is quickly on yours, mouths seeking each other once again as your hands make their way into his hair. He licks into you with a smile and lets out a moan at the feeling of your fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling at his curls. Almost instinctively you kick off your ankle boots, you hear them land with a soft thud on the road before bending a knee onto the bench seat to give Javier easy access to where you want his attention most. His hands wander down your body, gently massaging your breasts and rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers, sliding down your stomach and giving your soft hips a squeeze before resting on your clothed cunt.

You let out a soft whimper and buck into his hand. “So needy for me, aren’t you?” Javier says as he easily undoes your jeans and ever so slowly slides his fingers into your underwear. “I bet you’ve been fucking soaked for hours. Ever since your little stunt earlier.”

He drags a finger between your slick folds and brushes briefly against your clit making your whimpers grow louder. Javi brings his hand to his mouth and makes a show of licking your arousal off of his fingers, moaning at your taste, his eyes growing dark with lust. Inspired by your response to this sinful display, Javi works his way down your body, leaving hot wet kisses on your skin as he lifts your hips and pulls your jeans down, your underwear right along with them.

Kneeling on the edge of the Jeep, the opened door blocking the view from the streets nearby, Javi smiles at the sight before him, “Look at you,” he whispers, nipping at all your newly exposed skin, “is this all for me? Or does a successful mission get you this excited.”

You answer with a breathy moan of pain mixed with pleasure as he sinks his teeth into the top of your thigh before pressing a delicate kiss to soothe the sharp sting. He repeats his action on your other thigh, a soft bite followed by a gentle kiss with his pillowy lips and the littlest drag of his tongue. Large hands smooth over your hips and down your thighs, pulling them over his broad shoulders. He takes his time with each, leaving bite marks and bruises as he works his way up one and down the other, conveniently skipping where you want him most.

You shift your hips towards him to help him reach your goal but he only chuckles darkly, earning you another soft nip against your tender skin. A small whine escapes your lips as you frown. If he was going to keep teasing you like this, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“I don’t know, Javi,” you sigh, “maybe I just get turned on when I prove you wrong.”

He rumbles deeply in his chest, rearing his head back as if you’ve deeply offended him. But he only uses this new stance to his advantage, pursing his lips and spitting directly on your pussy. You tremble and clench down at the unexpected action, feeling the way it slides down to your hole.

“Yeah?” he taunts. “You’re lucky you look so fucking sexy when you do it.” He spits against you again and dives down to catch it, running his tongue back up your slit to push all his added wetness towards your clit. He teases it, lips only lightly pressing against it as his tongue dances just around that it’s not enough pressure. You groan and curl your fingers into his hair, trying to pull him in closer but he makes a noise of disapproval, the vibrations of his hum making your thighs push around his head. He grabs both your wrists in his large hand, pulling them off and towards your chest in a tight grip. His mouth unlatches from you and you want to cry.

“You want it bad, princesa, don’t you?” the hot air of his breath fans across your wetness. “Then beg for it.”

“Javi,” you moan, arching your back in a feeble attempt to get him to relent but he only shoves his other hand across your abdomen, keeping you down as he places lazy kisses against your cunt, the sloppy sounds giving you only enough to drive you mad as a high-pitched keen leaves the top of your throat.

“Please,” you quiver out, wiggling against him as best as you can but he doesn’t quicken the slow unraveling of his tongue through your folds. He growls and you shiver, “Please, Javi, give it to me. I want it, I want you, I-I’m sorry…”

He watches you intently, probably to make sure you meant it, before he finally yields and presses his mouth firmly into you, giving you what you want. You know he doesn’t like to relinquish control, so today must have really riled him up and he was taking care of it the best way he knew how. You cry out, the shock of pleasure rippling through your core when he suctions his plush lips around your bundle of nerves to suck.

His hand releases your wrists but you know better than to move them as he brings his fingers down, the middle one teasing against your entrance. He watches the way your mouth drops open when he eases it inside of you, moaning in response at the way your pussy sucks him in deeper.

He takes you by surprise then, mouth leaving you but quickly replaced by his thumb rubbing tight circles. “Your idea worked so well today, princesa, how could I not reward you?” he whispers hoarsely up at you, adding a second finger that you clench around with a choked sob. “God, and when you were ordering us around to go with your plan?” he starts scissoring his fingers inside you and your hips buckle. “Wanted to take you right then and there. So fucking sexy, baby.”

“Javi,” you wail, the heels of your feet pressing against the broad of his back as the lewd sounds of his fingers fucking you fill the cabin of his Jeep. You’re past the point of caring how loud you are if it means watching his darkened eyes roam your body as he licks his lower lip.

“I know you want to cum,” he pants. “Cum on my mouth for me, princesa.”

“Yes, Javi, yes,” you’d do anything he’d say at this point, so close to the brink you’re almost sore from want. He presses back down to you, tongue working double time before he latches his lips around your clit again and sucks. Your body seizes up for a second and you sob, stars bursting in your eyes as he pushes you over the edge. The sharp ripples of pleasure burn white hot through your body as his fingers fuck you through it, your body convulsing around your orgasm.

The insistent swipes of his tongue soon turn to kitten licks as he slowly brings you back down, the aftershocks shivering up your spine until you whine for him to stop. He leans back then, mouth soaked in you as he grins smugly. He slides his fingers out and moans at the way your arousal pools around the digits. He looks up at you then and reaches forward, hand presenting towards your mouth until you lean towards him to capture his fingers between your lips, moaning at the taste of your slick. He runs his finger down your lower lip, smearing you with your mess as he swallows around a groan, his cock unbearably erect within the confines of his jeans.

He takes a step back from the Jeep, arms raising over his head as he leans against the roof and admires the sight of you - your mascara starting to run from your eyes closing in ecstasy, the way your chest heaves with each exaggerated breath, your tongue running over your lips to clean up the mess he just smeared on you. The sight of you so fucked out makes his dick twitch and your eyes hungrily shift to the obvious bulge of his jeans, suddenly feeling empty and needing more of him. You shift forward, reaching for his belt before he catches your wrists with one hand.

“Not so fast,” Javi tuts, palming himself with his free hand before placing a knee on the seat between your still spread thighs, “what did I tell you? If you want my cock, you need to beg for it.” He releases your hands and ducks his head into the car, hands now reaching for headrests as he crowds his body over yours.

“Javi, please, I need you to fuck me” you whine, shifting onto your elbows to push yourself back on the seat, feet planted on either side of Javier’s waist. “Want to feel you, want you inside me.”

“What else, baby?” He follows you into the Jeep, his body slowly climbing over yours before pressing his face into the soft flesh of your chest. You can’t help but reach a hand into his hair and pull his face up to you, capturing his mouth with yours and nibbling on his bottom lip before he pulls away. Your head falls back and his lips are quick in finding your neck. “Use your words, you can’t get it unless you ask.”

You feel his cock pressing against you and your hands reach down in an attempt again to undo his jeans, this time met with no resistance from Javier who is far too distracted by the little moans he’s pulling from you with each focused kiss along your collarbone. You get his jeans undone and pull them down just enough to free him and wrap your hand around him.

“Want you to take control of me, Javi,” your thumb swipes through the bead of precum leaking from his tip and you spread it along his length, giving him a few lazy pumps. His face is buried in your neck and he lets out a soft growl at the way your hands feel around his cock. Eager for more but waiting until he’s satisfied with your pleas he ducks his face down and takes one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth, the stimulation sending a pulse straight to your pussy. That low burn in your belly reignites, suddenly feeling so empty and you’re out of patience. You wrap a leg around his waist and pull him closer, guiding his cock through your wet folds before notching him at your entrance. “I- I like when you’re in charge.”

“Good girl,” he takes this chance to push all the way into you in one thrust, causing you to wince slightly at the sudden stretch before relaxing into that feeling of fullness that only Javier can provide. He stills there, hips against hips, watching your face change from pain to pleasure, before slowly pulling out and slamming back into you. He sets a gentle pace with this, enjoying the way your face contorts with each thrust, the soft way your eyes crinkle as he pulls out of you, the way your brows furrow every time he drives back into you.

“Please, Javi,” you beg, “I need more.” You’re not even sure what you need more of, just that you need it, and Javi is more than happy to oblige. He pulls all the way out of you, your cunt fluttering at the sudden emptiness, and takes a seat, his throbbing cock resting against his still clothed torso. It’s a beautiful sight, you can’t help but prop yourself up on your elbows and take it in - his jeans undone just enough, his olive tac vest still strapped over his light blue button down - a stark contrast to your lack of clothing.

You watch closely as he wraps his fist around his cock, slick with your arousal, and pumps himself before patting his lap and whispering a low “C’mere.” You climb your way across the bench seat and straddle his lap, hovering right above his swollen head before slowly lowering yourself down. “Always so tight,” he hisses, fingers digging into your hips to control your movements. You start to lift yourself off but Javi’s grip on you tightens, not letting you move.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he questions before brutally driving up into you. Caught off guard, you quickly reach forward for stability and find your fingers wrapping around the shoulder straps of Javier’s tac vest, something you’ve thought about ever since you first saw him put it on.

“I’m…the one…in charge,” he grunts between thrusts, setting a brutal pace as he bounces you on his cock.

“Fuck, Javi!” you exclaim, struggling to catch your breath. His cock spears you over and over, each time hitting that perfect spot. You feel your orgasm fast approaching as expletives and pleasured cries fall from your lips. “Right there, Javi. I’m so close.”

Javier is close too, his thrusts becoming erratic as he holds off, wanting you to cum around his cock first before he finds his release. He slips his hand between you, thumb circling your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you know you’re seconds away from falling over that edge.

“That’s it baby,” he coos in your ear, “let go.”

White hot pleasure streaks through you as your orgasm reaches its crescendo, your sounds swallowed up by Javier whose mouth finds its place on yours once again. Your thighs tremble beneath you, pussy pulsating and clamping down around Javi’s cock and it’s not long until his own release follows. A guttural moan escapes him with a few final slow thrusts, cum spurting into you, arms wrapping all the way around you in a tight embrace. You stay like this for a few minutes, both of you trying to find your breath, his cock softening in the warmth of your push.

Javi gently lifts you off of his lap and turns to give you a deep kiss before stepping out of the jeep. He adjusts himself back into his jeans before bending down to pick up your discarded jeans and panties from the ground. You’d almost forgotten about your clothes in your cockdumb state, not even entirely sure how long it had been since sending everyone back to base, but you could see that the sun was starting to set behind the buildings of Medellín.

He shakes your clothes free of dirt before handing them back to you. “Sorry about the mess,” he apologizes, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now, can you maybe be less of a brat next time we have a mission?”

--

Taglist: @microsoftcraint @thisgirl-knm @triggerhappyflygirl@phandoz @sunnshineeexoxo @mrsudontknowme @wyofabdoms @mandosmistress @kissasith @1800-fight-me

[fandomwriterstuff]

Rick Flag Drabble

Just a quick thing I wrote

Rated: M

Mentions of sex, not explicit

~650 words

You were on Amanda Waller’s suicide squad, but you weren’t a prisoner. You weren’t a soldier either, actually. You were a metahuman, you had superior agility and the ability to control people with your mind. It came in handy a lot, especially with your pseudo-sister Harley’s maniacal schemes.

You met Harley when you were homeless in the streets of Gotham, rejected by your family for your metahuman status and all alone. She was a little older than you and she took you in when she was still a working psychiatrist. Things went downhill from there, but the two of you were thick as thieves.

So, you were the secret backup behind all of her plots and she made sure whenever she got sent to prison, there was no way to get back to you, but when you heard she was throwing her life into danger for a couple years off of her sentence… Well, you were always partners in the past, you weren’t going to let her go on her own this time. That’s how you met the Colonel.

You popped up on one of their missions after tracking Harley and saved his ass from a wizard with throwing knives, making the mage drop his weapons and surrender himself.

That’s how it began, but it was going a lot differently. You’d struck up a friends-with-benefits relationship with Rick pretty quick, finding dark corners and tight closets to fuck in at any given opportunity. But, you were a virgin when you met Rick, and you were pretty sure he didn’t know. With all of the mischief and homelessness going on in the past few years, you weren’t exactly bringing home suitors. So the first time you had sex (in his office after a mission, bent over his desk with your tac pants scrunched down around your ankles, his fingers tangled in your hair), you were so pent up with post-mission energy and arousal that you were glad to have a release. From then on, it became a common occurrence.

Last time, you’d gone to his home and spent the night (a milestone in your relationship), and stolen his shirt to go home in, as your utility vest was torn and bloodied and would garner too many questions from your Uber driver. So, that’s how you found yourself a week later on a mission, in your gear (his shirt safely tucked in your drawer at home), chatting with Harley. She knew you had a thing for Rick but you hadn’t told her explicitly about the sex. So when he came over with an exasperated look, you weren’t sure how it was going to go. But you weren’t too worried, it was just the three of you plus Boomer, so it couldn’t be too bad.

“So, am I ever getting my shirt back?” He smirked down at you, and despite the warmth pooling in your belly, you grinned shark-like back at him. He was never getting that shirt back.

“I don’t know, am I ever getting my virginity back?” You countered, and several things happened at once. Rick’s eyes turned into huge saucers, the color falling from his face. Harley choked on her last words and her face filled with pigment, red rushing up her pale throat and up into her cheeks. And lastly, Boomer started uncontrollably cackling from several feet away, pointing his finger at Rick, whose face was still looking rather grey.

You shrugged, you liked the way his shirt smelled. He wasn’t getting it back until it stopped smelling like him and you needed a new one. So you let out a little chuckle and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it Colonel, I don’t have parents to give you a death glare and a stern talking to. Just a semi-psychotic sister with a protective streak the size of Texas.”

He gulped, and Boomer only laughed harder.

“You’re screwed, mate!”

[kirsteng42]

No words just 👀👀🥵🥵🥵🥵

[magpie-to-the-morning]

THESE TAGS HOOO GOD

The competence kink. ✔️

Smart Javi. ✔️✔️

Tac vest superiority. ✔️✔️✔️

TUMMY!??! 🤤🥺 ✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️✔️

STAHPP I can only take so much.

You're making me fall more in love with him 😂

Oh my god I’m cackling 🤣🤣🤣

I refuse to stop! Javi, for all his faults, is a fucking badass and I love him.

Also, fellow Javi lovers, you should def check out Skye’s new Javi x Reader series Lie to Me!

[gripefroot]

The Heart is a Muscle

Bucky stomps onto the Quinjet, unbuckling the vest around his chest to throw into a locker - it bounces off the metal grating and falls to the floor. He ignores it. Stomping up to the pilot’s deck, his jaw clenches as he notices Steve and Clint looking pointedly away from him as they strap on their seat belts. Bucky’s face is red hot and tingling, and he slumps into a seat with a suppressed growl rumbling in his chest. 

“Er, let’s head home,” Steve says awkwardly.  

“Yeah, home. Home sounds great.” Clint fumbles with some buttons. Their voices quiet as they communicate amongst themselves to get the jet off the ground. Gangway raised, engines turned on.  

Bucky simmers.  

The door from the main cabin slides open with a near-silent whoosh. The hair on the back of his neck stands up, but he doesn’t look back.  

“Sergeant,” comes your icy voice.  

“Agent,” he retorts. 

“Could I have a moment of your time?” 

Bucky bites his tongue. He can see Steve’s head tilt in front of him, waiting for the response even though it’s not meant for him. Bucky doesn’t really have a choice now. He knows it. You know it.  

Lazily he stands. “Of course,” Bucky drawls, keeping his chin up as he dares to meet your eyes. Your expression glitters darkly. You haven’t removed your gear; with arms crossed in front of your chest, you only regard him coolly for a moment before turning on your heel to leave. Bucky follows doggedly behind, and the door whooshes shut again behind him. 

Is it soundproof? He kind of hopes so.  

You don’t stop until you’re at the back of the jet. Without warning you spin around, the full force of your emotion nearly stopping Bucky in his tracks.  

“What was that?” you demand, eyes spitting sparks. 

He glares right back. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t play stupid, Barnes. It’s not your style.” Your voice snaps at him, drags up his rage to the battlefield.  

“You wanna know what that was?” Bucky asks roughly, staring you down as he takes a menacing step forwards. You don’t move an inch, glower deepening. “That was saving the mission.” 

“That was disobeying Fury’s orders.” 

“That was saving your life!” 

You give a disbelieving snort. “Don’t exaggerate. We would have still gotten out just fine - ” 

“Missing limbs? Shot through? Dead?” 

“ - just fine.” Your brows are pinched together in a scowling frown. “We’ve gotten out of tougher situations, Barnes. Steve, Clint, even me - you came today as backup. Not as an instigator. And now SHIELD has to deal with your fallout - ” 

“Should I regret what I did?” Bucky cuts in, the metal plates of his hand grating shrilly as he balls his fingers. “Because I don’t. Even if you wish I hadn’t, even if you’d rather be taken home on a stretcher than standing up just fine, as you clearly are, thanks to me - ” 

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself. It was under control.” 

Bucky scoffs. “You were being held at gunpoint.” 

“Like I’ve never been there before!” Voice raising dangerously, you throw your hands angrily in the air, the sudden action startling Bucky. “I was perfectly capable of saving my own backside before you ever came along. Just because we’re - we - it doesn’t mean you always have to step in! Bucky, this is my job; I know what I’m doing, and I accept any consequences - ” 

“You think I did what I did for you?” Bucky stares for a moment, and then starts to laugh maniacally. Angrily you snap your lips shut, glaring full force. “Like I would,” he bites back suddenly. “Yeah, sorry I saved your life. Sorry I saw the situation going downhill and stepped in. I obviously forgot that pride is worth dying for. At least for you.” 

“Give me a break,” you snap.  

“You want a break? I can give you a break.” 

You blink up at him, evidently stunned into silence, and Bucky immediately regrets his words. The anger is fading from your expression, into something even more horrifying - horrifyingly desolate - and with a grunt he runs his fingers through his grimy hair.  

“I’m sorry, okay?” he grumbles. “I shouldn’t have said that.” 

The jet cabin is so quiet that he could hear Steve and Clint’s murmurs to each other on the flight deck. Then you blink again, and a shaky sigh leaves your lips.  

“I’m not ungrateful, Bucky. I just…” you gnaw on your lip a moment, shifting your weight on your feet, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s just...hard.” 

“Hard,” Bucky repeats.  

“Sometimes...the lines between personal and professional get blurred.” 

“Like when we made out in that Hydra base?” 

A trembling laugh. “Yeah. Like that.” 

Bucky’s lips twitch, wanting to smile. “So, professionally you’re ok with what I did, but personally I offended you?” 

Your teeth are gnawing into your bottom lip. “Um - sure.” 

“Right.” 

“You know, I worked alone for a long time,” you say, voice quiet now. “Having a team is new to me. Having you. Maybe I don’t need a team or you...but I want you. I do, Bucky. I sleep better knowing you have my back. In every way. And I didn’t mean to get angry, I just…” your voice trails off. “I…” 

“It’s okay,” Bucky interrupts, and tentatively he reaches out to clasp your hands, hanging at your sides, in his. Immediately a little smile lifts your lips. The scarce distance between your bodies is no longer threatening; but consoling. He lets loose a deep breath. “We all have our bad days, babe. I know I’m still the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, even when you’re angry.” 

You blink, and then give a startled laugh. “Don’t test me,” you tease.  

“I don’t have to test what I already know,” he snarks back, and grins at your eye roll. “Do you think Steve and Clint heard us?” Bucky adds, wondering. 

“Um - Steve, probably. Clint takes his hearing aids out when he’s uncomfortable.”

Bucky chortles. “True. He’s very lucky that way.” 

“Do you…” you start to say, and then pause. Your eyes are shining as you quirk a brow up at Bucky. “Do you think they still think we’re fighting?” 

He quirks a brow. “...Should they?” 

“I’ll be reporting this to your superiors!” you half-shout, startling Bucky slightly. But the little smile on your lips proves you don’t mean it. Curiously he watches the expression on your face as you wink.  

“Well maybe I’ll report you,” he says loudly back, aware of your fingers curling around his wrist. You start to tug him back towards the rear of the jet.  

“Fury trusts me a lot more than you!” you call, and then whisper for his benefit, “But not by much.” 

Holding back a laugh, Bucky retorts at full volume as you barge backwards through the nearest bathroom door, “That’s gonna be his downfall!”  

The door shuts, and in a breathless whisper he adds, “Not really. Fury’s lucky to have you.” 

“I’m glad you think that,” you murmur, reaching around him to lock the door.

“I’m lucky to have you, too.” 

You wince. “After I just railed at you?”

“I know you only did it because you love me.” 

Laughing, you wind your arms around Bucky’s neck, and he doesn’t waste time unbuckling the back of your tac vest. The bathroom is only about three feet long and two feet wide; his back is pressed into the door as his elbows knock against the opposite wall. But it’s only the shining light in your eyes he sees; drowning in the depths before he lowers his head to kiss you - devouring for all he’s worth as you kiss him just as fiercely in return; you bite his lip, teeth clatter together. It’s all desperation. Arousal rips through his veins faster than anger ever had.  

The vest falls to the floor, but there’s no time to go much further. Urgently Bucky wrenches open the buckle on your pants, unzipping them to tip his fingers inside. A rough moan rips from your throat, which he swallows as he tastes your mouth with his eager tongue.  

“Bucky,” you whine, tugging at his hair as he lowers his head to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck.  

“We’ve done it in worse places,” he reminds you.  

“Oh, I don’t care - why are your pants still on?” 

“Because you haven’t taken them off yet, babe.” 

“Oops.”  

Your hands stray down to his chest, and Bucky starts as you push him back against the wall, a wild smile on your face. Keeping your gaze on him, you pull off his belt and push down his trousers as he swallows thickly.  

“I get a little scared when you look at me like that,” he says hoarsely. 

“Oh, please,” you coo. “When has it ever turned out badly for you?” 

“...Good point.” 

You tilt your chin upwards, eyes hooded as Bucky wets his lips. His throat is dry. “Aren’t you gonna make love to me?” you whisper, a trace of taunting coloring your words.  

“You haven’t said please,” Bucky tries to tease back, even though his throat is tight.  

“Please, Bucky. I need it. I need you.” 

“You need me?”

“I want you.” 

His lips twist in a crooked grin as he traces the curve of your cheek with his flesh thumb. “That can be arranged.” 

“Then arrange it.” 

Bucky isn’t one to say no. Especially to you. His hands roam south, until his fingers are digging into your hips. Abruptly he spins you around, and you catch yourself on the edge of the sink as he bends over your arched back, nibbling on your ear as he listens to the soft whimper from your lips.  

“Get on with it,” you breathe, and with a groan he pushes down your pants and aligns his hips to yours. Lacing his metal fingers over yours on the sink, Bucky takes a steadying breath before thrusting in.  

The moan that rips from you echoes in the tiny bathroom.  

“Shh.” Bucky nuzzles into your neck, his breathing labored as he keeps control of himself.. “As much as I know you want to let everyone know how good I am, you gotta keep quiet. Stark will have our hides if he finds out we’ve been dirtying his equipment.” 

Your husky laugh is, thankfully, quiet. After that, the only sounds are ragged breathing, and the vibrations of louder moans stay in your throat. Bucky’s fingers squeeze over yours, his opposite hand digging into your waist as you quiver around him.  

Suddenly, footsteps. Bucky’s head snaps up as you give a shuddering gasp. Damn, he was right there with you - and right on queue, he feels your pulsating climax around him, and he stutters awkwardly, finishing straight behind.  

Shoot. They’re coming closer. Instinctively he clamps a hand over your mouth, cutting off the sound of your frenetic breathing. Bucky holds his breath.  

The door to the other bathroom is opened. And closed.  

Lowering his head to your ear, Bucky whispers, “That was Clint.” 

“Good,” you murmur between his fingers. “If it was Steve - ” 

“We’d be caught,” he finishes. A tense, horrifying moment - and then you start to giggle, and unable to stop himself, Bucky joins in. Very quietly. And because he can’t really resist, and he doesn’t want to - he trails the tip of his nose against the back of your neck up to your hairline, kissing your skin softly.  

“I’m sorry,” you say mournfully after a moment. “I really am.” 

“For?” 

“Being angry at you before.” 

“It’s okay. I was mad too.” 

“Do you think…do you think it’s worse? Because we’re hiding this?” 

The softly spoken question gives Bucky pause. Awkwardly he pulls out, keeping hold of your hand as you straighten stiffly. Clean up is efficiently done, and as he’s belting his pants again, he frowns a little at the contemplative expression on your face.  

“No,” he says firmly. “I think...I think that if we weren’t hiding it, we’d have a whole slew of new problems.” 

You giggle quietly. “That’s probably true.” Bending over to pick up your discarded tac vest, you glance up at Bucky with your eyes sparkling. The sight makes his heart stutter a little, and he grins as he wraps an arm around your waist for a final, lingering kiss.  

“I love you,” you whisper. 

“I love you too. Shall we go and tell Steve we worked things out?” 

“Maybe leave out the sex bit, but yeah.” 

With a final study of your smile, burning it in his memory, Bucky slowly unlocks the door to peek his head out. The opposite bathroom is engaged, and silent. He tiptoes out, leading you by the hand. And then he remembers, and drops it.  

So maybe telling everyone would have some advantages. 

[fapangel]

Seeing that war is going to happen, but I am betting on that the U.S. mainland ISN'T going to be nuked. But still, what would likely be the backlash effect we would be hit by it? economic instability/collapse? Fuel shortages? Marshal Law? What do you think will happen once we cross the Rubicon?

I think you’re drastically over-estimating the effects of this possible war. 

For starters, none of those terrifying things you mentioned hit the US Homeland, even during the Second World War itself. Save fuel shortages, and that was due to deliberate rationing. And even that wouldn’t be so bad - we actually maintain a strategic oil reserve with a 727 million barrel capacity just to ensure our ability to operate our military in times of war - they’ve actually sold off some oil from it at times to alleviate high gas prices some years back when gas prices were stupidly high.  That greatly insulates both our military and our civilian market against any short-term disruption (a closing of the Hormuz Strait by Iran, for instance,) and given that even WWII didn’t produce any serious damage to American domestic infrastructure, it’s highly unlikely any modern conflict (which will be much smaller scale) will manage to do what the 20th century’s greatest conflict could not. We will probably suffer more domestic infrastructure damage from cyberattacks alone - Chinese military hackers were caught red-handed targeting US domestic infrastructure. They tend to play with the settings to verify that they’ve achieved control of the system, then they quietly log out - they’re almost certainly building a catalog of vulnerable and pre-compromised systems that can then be re-visited - and configured with settings that will ensure physical destruction of the industrial hardware - at a later date, in time of war. This isn’t academic; Russian military hackers damaged a Ukrainian power plant recently.

With that said, however, the total impact of these attacks are highly unlikely to be devastating or even seriously problematic - the nation is simply too large, and the destruction such attacks can wreak, though serious in many cases, can’t compare to hitting a power plant with a cruise missile or a bomb. Their advantage will be primarily psychological; the threat that “we can reach out and touch you,” but historically that has never worked. England bombed Berlin to “break the will of the German people,” and Germany bombed London to return the favor, but neither side broke, did they? Attacks on the homeland make a war personal, giving previously disinterested citizens (”Vietnam has nothing to do with us, why are we over there,”) a personal emotional stake in it. For all their mastery of propaganda and misinformation, Russia and China use it first and foremost to control their own people, which leaves them with some inevitable blind spots when they target Americans. Habit and established procedure is hard to break, after all - much less their innately different view of how people think and are best governed (i.e. controlled.) 

There’s more vectors available for direct kinetic attack of the American homeland than there were in WWII, of course - such as cruise missiles launched from submarines - but that would be a serious and very dangerous escalation akin to running up to a dragon and kicking it in the balls. The United States would probably avoid escalating to domestic targets itself - the war, like so many Cold War proxy conflicts before it, would be fought in the “crossing ground” of the Baltics and the South China Sea - unless our foes escalated against our own soil first. Given that America has a vastly superior ability to project power against their domestic territory than they can against ours, this is not a game they want to play. 

Wider global knock-on effects are hard to consider - especially since I’m no economist, or anything - but any short term disruption would likely be a wash. We’d suffer from losing trade with China, but at the same time, we’d also gain substantially. In fact, with how automated manufacturing of any sort is these days, China would probably come out far worse than us, because while automation would mitigate our economic gains (not as much people put back to work at US Steel, for instance,) the Chinese, who powered their economic rise by tapping their vast domestic market of cheap labor, would lose a lot of jobs, in both absolute and comparative terms. iPhones would be even more expensive without FoxConn’s slave labor force in China, though I hear they’ve located a new source of desperately poor unemployed people to exploit. There’d be a short-term loop-de-loop in the stock market and many international companies supply chains no matter how you look at it, but long-term would look better - companies have been souring on China for a while now due to their state-backed policy of “fleece the round-eyes for everything you can get, and once you’ve stolen their technology wholesale, kick them out of the country penniless while you make bank on their product.” For that reason a lot of companies are turning to India, which has many of the same problems (local/municipal corruption, etc.,) but is actively trying to rectify them, rather than making it state policy to fuck everyone not Chinese for the benefit of China. I think the long-term economic shifts are the most significant thing to look at because the war itself won’t last too long - it’s going to be fast, violent and decisive. China and Russia both need a quick knockout victory - I highly doubt this “hybrid war” shit is going to fly on NATO clay, not with Trump and Mattis there to drop the fucking hammer on them. Even if NATO doesn’t invoke article 5 (extremely unlikely,) the invaded nation will be screaming bloody blue murder for help, which is all the excuse we’ll need to roll in alone - and we can roll in alone, need be. China’s situation is self-explanatory - much like Japan in 1941, the best they can hope for is establishing MY HEMISPHERE ANGOLOS GET OUT REEEEE and even if they manage that, they just don’t have the assets needed to repel a full-scale push by the US once we muster our strength, especially after inevitable losses taken while defeating our local forces (7th fleet.) 

Disruption to international oil supply is the biggest threat, because of economic disruption to Europe that will then affect us downstream - not because of any domestic threat. America imports 40% of our oil from Canada, 11% from Saudi Arabia, 9% from Venezuela, 8% from Mexico and 4% from Colombia... and in 2015, we only imported 24% of our total oil consumption. 75% of our oil we produce our own damn selves - we’re the third largest producer in the world - and over half of that remaining quarter is imported from nations close to us - or at least, not in the Middle East. And that Middle Eastern nation, Saudi Arabia, is one of our favored allies, with a formidable military that uses a lot of our nicest toys. The two biggest reasons we’re allied with the Saudis, despite them being well-known bastards, is that they give us extensive regional bases (with which we can protect the Strait of Hormuz and generally come down hard on anyone kicking up shit in the Middle East’s oil-producing regions,) and because the Saudis have a very vested interest in not rocking the OPEC boat themselves, and would be very likely to use their military to defend the stability of the world’s oil supply, given that they’re extremely dependent on that. The Suez Canal is the other major chokepoint in that area, and it’s controlled by Egypt, which has the biggest army in the region, and likely the most competent of all Arab armies in the Middle East. 

The only thing that can really change any of this is the use of tac-nukes, as that could inflict horrific infrastructure damage to these crucial regions that would seriously damage the international economy for decades to come. However, I think it highly unlikely that those will get tossed around - for the simple fact that the United States has plenty to play with, too. If you’re wondering why those B-61 freefall bombs haven’t been removed from Incirlik yet, despite the questionable wisdom of keeping nukes inside an increasingly hostile and Russian-aligned Turkey, look no further than Russia’s recent penchant for rattling their tac-nuke saber to compensate for their weak conventional forces. They’ve gone so far as to suggest “de-escalating” a conventional conflict by striking with tac-nukes first. They’re full of shit, but it doesn’t matter if you believe them or not - what matters is that they believe us when we say that trying to nuke us, even with tac-nukes, will be met with nukes in return. Our tac-nuke arsenal is old - non-stealthy air-launched cruise missiles and B-61 freefall bombs - but even if the war kicks off before the B-61 is retrofitted with a GPS guidance kit and integrated with the F-35 for short-range, high-speed stealth strikes, the fact remains that we’ve got the ability to ensure air superiority - if not outright air supremacy - needed to employ even our current weapons with relative impunity. An F-15E performing a delayed lay-down delivery on the deck will do just fine. Once the Russians cross the nuclear threshold, we’re obligated to respond in kind, because failure to do so would encourage many more attacks of that sort. Demonstrating an unwillingness to retaliate leaves them with everything to gain and nothing to lose by nuking us. 

Worse, Russia’s saber-rattling might just backfire. They’ve been helicopter-dicking since last year about moving Iskander-M tactical ballistic missiles to Kalingrad, and helicopter-dicking harder because this missile is technically nuclear-capable. TBMs like the Iskander are key to Russia’s modern A2/AD strategy, same as they are for China - they allow them to attack sites a good 150 or even 200 miles deep in enemy territory, just like a cruise missile - but a ballistic missile not only arrives much faster, but is also much, much harder to shoot down by air defenses, making these weapons extremely useful for Russia and China, who don’t have nearly as many fighters, airborne jammers or other support equipment to back up their cruise missile strikes with. 

Unfortunately, after hurfblurfing for years about how they’ll tac-nuke us at the drop of a hat, the instant those warheads are detected in-flight, they’re likely to trigger an American response that assumes they’re nuclear, not conventional. And that could land Russia’s ass in much hotter water than they might want. If all the incoming warheads are destroyed - or even only some of them - by our ABM defenses, it’ll still leave open the question of some of the destroyed ones were nuclear, and the remainder conventional, or simply decoys to aid the nuclear weapons penetration. Because of the seriousness of it, we’d have to assume the worst, and that means that NATO forces would be standing there on a nuclear hair trigger. All this constrains Russia’s ability to use one of their best asymmetric weapons against us by significantly increasing the political and strategic risk of using them - either a a first salvo or a later follow-up, they equate a much bigger escalation than they would without the potential nuclear angle. 

So, no, anon, I don’t think the very possible future wars with Russia and China are going to lead to the kind of nightmare scenarios you’re describing. They’re not going to be fun, but simply put, neither Russia nor China really has the strength to scrap with us for long, and there’s a lot of things mitigating against the conflict suffering snowball-style escalation into a more damaging limited nuclear exchange. 

[pedrosbish]

😏 tac vest Javi is superior

#for science (con’t)