#the squad is here to mess you UP

[mymarifae]

i think the most important thing in the world is vbs being best friends who love each other so much and are super affectionate with each other like. listen to me:

- when toya hugs kohane he'll pick her up a tiny bit (a tiny bit is all he can manage. noodle arms) and she squeals with delight every time

- toya just really likes hugs in general. it's suuuuper common for him to just come up behind akito or an or kohane and wrap his arms around them and lean his head against theirs. hello and goodbye hugs with him always last a good 20 seconds because he won't let go sdjfjsnfkd

- kohane loooooves to tuck her hand in the crooks of her teammates' elbows while they're walking together. this way she won't get lost <3 sometimes she'll hold onto like, akito's elbow with one hand and an's with the other. it's very cute. and as vbs has grown closer, she's started to switch to hand holding. (don't tell anyone but akito's her favorite to hold hands with because he swings their arms as they walk and it's cute)

- also, kohane's hair tends to be messy because of her damn hats and this bugs akito so he spends a lot of time fussing over it. he'll just sort of...tug her closer and take out the pigtails and comb through it with his fingers. at some point she starts packing a brush in her bag to placate him. i like to think akito knows how to do hair because ena will sometimes make him do hers so after a while he stops just rebrushing kohane's hair and starts pulling it up in different ways... braiding it... etc... and he starts keeping things like hairspray in His bag. yknow. jic

- the hairstyling extravaganza extends to an and toya too. (i mean there's only so much akito can do with toya but he tries...) it's a calming thing for him - fiddling with his teammates' hair as they plan setlists or wait backstage. and having your hair played with is always nice <3

- i think shortly after teaming up an started giving kohane little kisses on the cheek. not as a romantic gesture - just simple affection! and after a while, she starts kissing toya and akito too. toya is always happy to lean down so she can pepper his face with little platonic kisses, but she usually has to wrestle akito. it's all in good fun and he'll always relent and let her kiss him in the end

- speaking of platonic kisses, i ALSO think that akito gives toya little kisses from time to time. it started back when they were still BAD DOGS. toya wasn't having a great time one night and after soothing him with a good sturdy hug, akito kissed the top of his head. it completely floored toya and akito blew up when he realized what he did. and they never fucking talked about it <3 but since toya didn't seem MAD about it, akito decided to stick with it and kept giving toya kisses like that. it's not common, and he ONLY does it when they're alone. except for when they make up after their little divorce arc in the main story. IGNORE the gunjo sanka mv and listen to me. they HUG after their heart to heart. and akito kisses toya's cheek. right around where he punched him

- but an's overaffectionate nature kind of rubs off on akito after a while. so he becomes less stingy when it comes to kisses and starts giving them to kohane and an too <3

- they lean against each other while sitting like kohane might cuddle into toya's side or an goes and lays her head on akito's shoulder

- and they have sleepovers and they fall asleep comfortably tangled up together (or not comfortably. at all. seriously cuddling while sleeping can get so uncomfy but it's worth it to be so close to someone you love). ken's taken quite a few adorable (and sometimes really funny) pictures of all four of them passed out on piles of blankets and futons. just dad things

i could go on forever it's just. platonic affection is so important to me and it's so frequently Ignored in fandom spaces. and in the case of vbs and the prsk fandom specifically, there's a tendency to separate vbs into akitoya VS anhane. which is so 💔 because the whole POINT of their story is that while they started off as separate duos, that's no longer the case! they've become such good friends. they're inseparable.

like even jokes about akito and an being "wlw and mlm hostility" are starting to wear on me because... they're friends, guys. they're incredibly close. akito is always looking out for an and is right by her side to support her through all the shit she's currently struggling with. there's no "hostility" present in their relationship. like, if you actually look at the game's text, an... rarely teases akito. the person who teases him the most is actually toya but you know... whatever... gotta reduce an down to a mean lesbian amirite... completely ignoring that she's one of the kindest characters in the whole game...

idk. i juuuuuust wish that this fandom wasn't so defensive and obsessive over shipping akitoya and anhane (mostly akitoya while anhane is a second thought but YOU KNOW) because it results in so many people watering down vbs as individuals And as pairs - because all they care about is shipping. like i promise that the other dynamics in vbs are worth exploring (both platonicallyand romantically but too much of this fandom still feels threatened by m/f vbs ships). and hell, explore akitoya and anhane on a platonic level, too! don't just jump to shipping them because teehee boyxboy and girlxgirl. take the time to understand what draws them together in the first place

i love friendship. i love when friends outwardly express their affection for each other and it doesn't have to have any romantic implications. can we talk about friendship for once like this game is literally The Ultimate Friendship Simulator feat. Hatsune Miku

[written-mishaps]

About the Echo thingy:

Fives: Congrats Fox you got a two for one deal on little brothers

Rex: *in the background* HOW DO THEY KEEP COMING BACK TO LIFE

Fox: *looking at his data pad with Echo just chilling*

Domino Twins? More like the Zombie Twins

Also what do you think Echo’s and Fox’s dynamic is like?

LMAOOOOOOOO Fox and Echo would actually get on so well like Fox would drop a dry sarcastic comment and Echo would respond with one of his own and they'd look at eachother like WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE. But yeah, genuinely would love to put those two in a room, Fives would find it cool that his brothers were getting along....for the first five minutes....and then he'd realise that some people become too powerful when they meet eachother 💀

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Do u think Theon has a gambling addiction

[tojisun]

EXPAND ON THIS

https://www.tumblr.com/tojisun/758472884430716928/no-matter-how-hard-you-try-you-just-cant-make

AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

aww im glad that u (all) liked that blurb!! didnt expect the vitriol in ur guys’ reactions but ykw? samesies <3 oki uhh so heres something quick and simple

cw: fivesome (but they go in order, also simon doesnt properly get a turn im sorry 😞); f!reader; subspace; builds up into consensual noncon; unrealistic sex; rambly as hell and its set up messily; wc is 3.6k :’3

(you tell them it’s a wrong send, and that it’s meant for johnny so they all said, “oh damn. welp,” and leaves you and johnny to go at it all night long teehee <33) (jk) (unless) (no ok im jk)

johnny fucks you first. the guys didn’t complain, and trickled into your room, ready to fall to whatever place they could sit down to watch. johnny laughs, and tugs you towards him, gently slapping your hand away when you try to cover yourself up with your shirt, and tells them, “watch me.”

not us, but me. like you’re a nameless hole whose only worth is to be fucked, and somehow that… doesn’t deter you at all.

instead, you ignore the warmth flooding in your cheeks and the stares that drag on your body, and focused on johnny’s smirk and his crooning words and his wide palms roving over whatever sliver of your skin he can touch. he positions himself in between your legs, his fatigues an uncomfortable sensation against your oversensitive skin.

he doesn’t care. he drags down his zipper and frees his cock from his briefs, before swiping his palm on the inside of your thigh, gathering the excess lube glistening there to use it as oil for his prick. your nose scrunches when he brings his hand to give himself a quick tug, foreskin peeling from the head to show off how flushed it is.

he crawls until he’s on top of you, and throws out, “let me show ye how to fuck ‘er, yes?”

you don’t even realize the words are for the rest of the squad because he’s already slipping his cock in your cunt, slow and careful, and you keen because yessss—

this is the delicious burn you’ve wanted. oh god oh god—

it didn’t even take johnny long before you’re cumming, your throat spasming at the scream that rips itself out from within you. your hips rise from the bed, your body jolting, unable to ground itself at the breaking euphoria that forced shockwaves to raze your synapses.

you fall on the bed limply, satiation filling you up in lapping waves. johnny pulls out and fucks his fist and sprays his cum all over your stomach. he musses it up, rubbing his palm against it like it’s a damn lotion, and lathers whatever inch of your belly he can cover.

it’s gross and weird, especially as the recollection that you’ve had an audience hits you, but then johnny’s stepping back and moving away. you try to shut your legs close, but someone’s already shuffling in, taking up the space that johnny had carved out.

you stare up at your captain, shock filling you up. he doesn’t ask with words but he quirks his brow up, waiting, and you don’t know what it is, but you give him a nod before ducking your head to the side.

which was a mistake, you learn, because you make eye contact with kyle; kyle who is—was—slowly rubbing himself through his pants, his palm gliding over his chub. his eyes are blown wide and he looks ravenous as he meets your gaze.

you hiccup, feeling cornered and delighted at the same time, but then john’s rubbing his cock along your messy folds, using the mess you and johnny made to lube himself up, and you mewl, tearing your eyes away from kyle to meet john’s stare head on.

he looks… calm. not teasing nor hungry, but poised with forced grace like this is another mission, and he has willed his full body to sync together so that not even a stray strand of hair will falter and miss a beat.

you don’t know how to position that with yourself, not like you needed to dwell on it any further because john’s already thrusting in. like johnny, he is careful, but he is more cautious, pushing inch by inch without even a ragged breath like he’s scoping out your reaction before he could let out his.

god, why’s everything so difficult with him—even now, speared with his cock, you still don’t know how to react. it’s like you’re a recruit all over again, dawdling underneath your CO’s scrutiny. it’s jarring, terrifying, really, but then john’s drooping onto you, his head tipping down to nuzzle close to your jaw, and this level of intimacy is what rips a moan out of you. it is drawn out and high-pitched, and so, so utterly debauched.

you hear more than see john’s pleased laugh, his breaths coming out in puffs that brush against your neck in a ticklish manner. the moment drags on—nuzzles and quiet huffs, and slow rocks of his hips almost like he’s taking his time to savour you; to allow you to get used to his size because he’s so different from johnny.

johnny is thick, but john is long. he is reaching deeper than you have ever known, and it’s so overwhelming that you begin to cling to him, in need of any way to ground yourself down from the slow-racing pleasure.

you don’t know how long he’s got you like that, but then he’s pulling back and away, and, “nonono, please. please, sir—”

“shh, i’ve got you,” he rumbles, still so utterly quiet that it forces out the tears faster, and you know something’s changed because john is looking at you with a proud smile, all tactile as he manhandles you to your side, before disappearing behind you. you feel your head being lifted then dropped onto something harder than your pillow, and it is only the smell of ozone that lets you know that john had pillowed your head with his arm, while the other snakes around your waist to pull you closer to him.

you stare at the expanse of your room but everything looks like they’re appearing underneath a hazy filter, so you blink your eyes to clear them from that mist but it remains unchanged. you feel heavy, all of sudden, like you’re submerged in water, wading through the ripples. floating.

you try to look at the others but all you see are blurs of colours, and you know this should terrify you, you know something’s happening in your mind, but you feel so good. so happy. so you fold into yourself, accepting the haze with a keen because john’s fucking back into you.

it is still so utterly gentle, like love-making, and this makes you sob because the euphoria is dizzying and overwhelming. it is something you haven’t felt before—johnny fucks you like a man starved; john fucks you like he’s trying to meld himself into you. or you into him.

it is so drastically different, and you were made to navigate the changing tides. but you can’t, not when john—

“fuck!” you scream, thrashing in his hold, but john ignores your voice as his heavy hand falls on your cunt with consistent smacks.

you feel lightheaded, untethered, and this is what pushes you to the edge. your orgasm is cataclysmic. it’s like having the fabrics of your reality collide until you are a supernova, bright and burning and so, so, so ecstatic.

you don’t even know how you came down from that high, but when you wake up, john’s already pulled out and your thighs feel extra sticky. you sniffle, turning to accept the quick kiss he leaves on your cheek. he pulls away and you watch him sink back to the lone chair in your room, and only then do you realize he’s still in his uniform. still in the fatigues.

it makes you extra vulnerable somehow and you twist, trying to find anything to cover yourself with, but your shirt’s been thrown to the floor, far from your reach, and your blankets were kicked off the bed.

you grumble, shyness encroaching again now that there’s no one to monopolize your attention, but a movement from the corner of your eyes makes you jolt. you turn, forcing your eyes to focus, and you blink in surprise because you are sure that kyle wasn’t there before—close to your shelving that is stuffed with little knickknacks and souvenirs brought to you by the boys when they take on separate missions that don’t require your involvement.

the same shelving where you’ve plopped your charging vibrator on. the very same one that is being held up by kyle.

“kyle?” you ask, unable to say any more with how wrecked your voice has become. but the call echoes like a gunshot in the suddenly stifling room, and they all look at you as one. like it didn’t matter if kyle was the one holding the wand because they all knew what they want, and it is to see you be fucked with it.

excitement fills you up despite the throbbing exhaustion settling in your bones, and you wonder if they could scent it with the way the pressure in the room grows heavy, almost bladed—ice shards against still waters.

kyle moves towards you and your eyes track the wand, almost hypnotized by it, and watch as he drops it on the mattress to shuck off his clothes. it is only then do you turn to him, hungry in the way you devour how he moves, how he breathes, how he unbuckles his belt.

his trousers come first, then his shirt. kyle is a catastrophic wonder—seeing him naked like this makes your core throb, aching need stretching in the yawning of your stomach, because he is so beautiful, terrifyingly so.

he reaches for your waist and drags you so you’re laying on your back again, your legs sprawled out on either side of his hips. he looks down at you, his eyes crinkled in his smile. he looks so charming, boyish and youthful, and he makes you thrum with quiet desire because you feel safe even when you’re bare before him.

you feel particularly cherished, like you are the apple of his eye.

“you’ve been so good to us, love,” he murmurs, but in the silence of everyone, his voice bounces off the walls, seeping into where the others are, watching raptly once again.

you nod, not knowing what else to say. kyle chuckles, the sound trickling like quiet chimes, and you wonder if he’s doing this for you—talking to you in whispers to give your body time to come down from the tremors, or filling you up with something other than a cock because johnny had come in scathing, and john had pierced you with something consuming, and kyle—

kyle is trying to distract you.

you’ve forgotten about the toy, sitting there so innocently. it’s out of your reach, tucked preciously close to kyle’s left leg the way he treats all his smaller guns—never straying beyond his person, and hovering close. you’ve once asked him if it wasn’t more comforting to have it on him where he can feel its weight and kyle had looked at you with that soft smile like you’ve uttered something so delightful, before telling you, “there’s a certain pleasure in having it displayed.”

like a promise and an assurance—he will always be faster; the one who is more in control.

and today, kyle is treating the wand with the same vehemence.

you didn’t even know you were already shaking your head until kyle had cupped your cheek, quiet sounds of comfort rumbling from his chest.

“don’t worry,” he says, eyes blazing with a terrifying promise. “all good girls have to be rewarded.”

kyle doesn’t fuck you with his cock right away; instead, he’d bent over and took a nipple into his mouth. it makes you gasp, back arching at every wet suck. there is pleasure to derive, but it is so muted that you begin to settle back into your mattress, waiting, almost in bated breath because kyle has yet to reach for the wand.

you jolt when he finally uses his hands, stomach tensing in anticipation. but still, kyle doesn’t reach for it, and instead he swipes a finger to your slit. your pussy’s still so sensitive so it makes you buck, a sharp animalistic sound tearing from your throat, and kyle takes advantage of the sudden change in the pace.

he slips in two fingers in your cunt, curling to poke at your walls, before fucking them out—he lifts up and sucks your other nipple—and punching them back in. it’s a wet slide, each thwaps ring in your head, and you moan, clawing at kyle’s back because how could he make you feel good just like this?

it’s almost a laughable parallel—just an hour ago, you had been in the same position, with your legs parted open and two fingers fucking in, while your other hand flicks at your nipples because you had so desperately wanted any form of orgasm. god, it didn’t even need to feel ecstatic, just something that’d rip your aching need into quiet tides. and now here you are, spread open with kyle mirroring every flick of his fingers and every pinching sensation on your nipples, and he is making you feel good.

how dare he. how dare he give you unadulterated pleasure with just his fingers? how could you ever go back to masturbating now that he’s even triumphed over your previous failures, showing your body that there are ways to make your toes curl without a cock nor a toy?

how dare he—

“no!” you whine, circling your hand around his wrist when he pulls out. you were so close; its tendrils spreading all over your body in the wake of your encroaching orgasm. you thought you were going to be rewarded? kyle promised. he said so!

“oh, love,” kyle coos, breaking through the swirling turmoil in your head. “i’m not done yet, i promise.”

you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the sob that is lodged in your throat as you watch kyle give his cock a pump before lining it up with your cunt. unlike johnny and john—and the reminder that they’re there, with simon, makes you jolt for a quick second—kyle doesn’t press in slow nor gentle.

no.

kyle punches everything in. you scream, the sound guttural as you are filled so quickly and so deeply, leaving you to feel the sudden crescendo of your pleasure. your body spasmed—because there was nothing else that could explain the sensation of having all your synapses sing with a ripping pleasure—before you black out for a second.

you come to the feeling of kyle’s hand mapping your belly, digging just enough that his fingers dimple your skin. you are still stretched and stuffed, and the remnants of your pleasure fire up again.

he flicks his eyes up to you with a smile. “came so soon f’r me, love.”

your only response is a gurgle. it makes kyle laugh.

“that must mean y’r ready for something else, yeah?”

a confused whimper bubbles from your throat. kyle just snaps his hips in reply, rendering your mind shut again. you hear him shuffling against the sheets, his free hand reaching for something you cannot see, and you feel your mind pressing at its edges, trying to retrieve the memory of what it is he is looking for because you know what it is, you’re sure.

buzzing noises fill your ears, the sound ricocheting around the space, and your body locks, recollection slamming into you. you tear your gaze away from the far wall to look at kyle.

you wonder what your face must’ve looked like because kyle begins to croon.

“i’ve seen this from a homemade porn video.” he shrugs at the incredulous expression on your face. “and i’ve always wanted to try it because sweetheart, they didn’t press it on her clit.”

what—

kyle moves, his body rippling with ease. you don’t notice but the boys crowd in, interest bright in their eyes. only ghost continues to be rooted in his spot, and it is only his head tipping to the side that lets the others know he’s just as interested.

kyle presses the toy on your belly. your nose scrunches in displeasure because it just feels like you’re being massaged incorrectly, but he keeps shifting, hunting, and it’s weird because kyle’s still in you so what—

you gasp, eyes widening at the odd sensation. kyle freezes, his body curling into something predatory, and digs your wand there on your—

“no way,” johnny laughs, and you want to snarl at him to go away but you can’t because he’s right.

no way.

kyle had pressed the vibrating bulb of your toy just below your belly and slightly before your upper pelvic area—kyle had pressed the toy on your womb.

the pleasure is new, uncharted, and it is petrifying because you’ve never felt this way before. you didn’t even know it was possible to stimulate yourself there, but kyle’s already resuming the pace he’d set, fucking his cock in deeply almost like he wants to feel the buzz from within.

you begin to sob but the tears feel different this time. they’re still out of pleasure, but the swirling surprise melts the euphoria into something frightening. you don’t even realize you’ve begun to babble.

“no more!” you hiccup, weak fists thumping against kyle’s chest only to be restrained by john and johnny, each man pushing them down with their own hands.

everything feels too scary, all of a sudden. this pleasure of yours is bigger than you have ever expected and it’s building up too fast and too soon, and still, kyle remains unfazed.

“i’m scared! i’m scared, kyle please!”

your words turn into unintelligible warbles, and kyle just says how you are so adorable like this.

“y’r pussy’s going stir crazy, baby,” he croons amidst your tears and you want to scream at him, to be mad and say something mean, but you feel so utterly lost in the bubbling bliss.

it is something you’ve never felt before; it’s almost like you are relearning your body at this very moment—like kyle is unmaking you, and remodelling you, and you feel this cathartic bloating of your orgasm.

kyle sees the moment you succumbed to the enveloping terror of your euphoria, and it’s like he’s been waiting for this moment because he begins to fuck you faster. deeper. his pelvis meets the plush of your ass with every thrust, while he digs the toy further down your flesh.

how could the vibrations ripple past the fat, you don’t know, but your orgasm is building, peaking—

it breaks with another scream tearing from your lungs. this one is much stronger than the previous ones, and enveloping because it feels like your whole body has shut down in the wake of your release.

your mind splinters, your body falling limp like your strings have been cut loose, and kyle turns forgiving again because he shuts the toy down and throws it away. he pulls out and only then do you feel the trickle of his cum sliding out of you.

he leans in, brushing his nose over your cheek. then, “just one more, little bird.”

kyle slides off the bed, but so do john and johnny, and you hiccup, still sobbing, still floating from the world-shattering climax, when simon greets you.

he is quiet for a while, watching as you catch your breath. you couldn’t even stop yourself from sniffling, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes to stain your already blotchy cheeks. he grunts, hand falling to brush unimaginably soft touches across your body, observing.

waiting.

“was’it?” you finally bite out because you know simon—you know ghost—and there is something that’s sitting on the tip of his tongue that he so desperately wants to spit out.

simon grumbles, rolling his eyes.

you groan, growing impatient. “tell m’.”

but he still doesn’t talk, choosing instead to manhandle your body until it is close to him. you want to tell him to give you a minute; that you’re still so sore and tired, and kyle just fucked you mindless that you need a goddamn break, so, “s’mon, no…”

he grunts, palming along your waist, then your hips, before it stops on the fat of your ass. he grabs a handful.

“won’t you let me fuck this hole instead,” simon finally replies.

your heart lurches to your throat, and you’re not the only one surprised because johnny’s bounding in close, excited, chatting simon’s ear how he wants to go next, “please, LT?”

you want to tell him to ask you, not simon, but simon’s already giving his assent with a huff, chirping how johnny’s so impatient—a master and his dog—before they turn to you again.

it is only then do you realize that simon hadn’t been asking for proper permission; it was all formalities because he was not going to settle for anything that isn’t yes.

anal sex hasn’t been something you are really interested in; no amount of porn and online anecdotes can change your mind, but simon’s gaze is heavy. it’s final.

before you can even reply, john’s already throwing something to simon. he catches it with ease, and only when simon flicks his hand do you recognize it to be the lube you’ve chucked away in your anger when this whole night started. kyle returns with the wand.

you lay there, on simon’s lap, seeing them flanking you for this… corrupting.

“okay,” you muster, trying to stake even a semblance of control.

thankfully, they ignore the shaking of your fists or the way your chest begins to heave in your morbid anticipation. simon laughs, and swoops down to nip your cheek.

“good girl.”

whew whyd it become a long ramble of smut??? it was supposed to be a john n johnny centric fucking bc of the prelude but alas, i needed to write a semblance of dark!kyle so here we are <3

temp taglist bc yall are animals (affectionate)!!!: @getosuguswhore @slut-lmao @mxtokko @imjusthereforkonig @bratzdolly4 @mabelwinters @stars4sar @sergeant-jasper @spiceywawa @j0r-d1e

[megalony]

You Called My Wife?

This is a new Jake Seresin imagine, my first request for Jake and I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Masterlist

Summary: The Dagger squad don't know much about Jake's personal life. And when he gets hurt during an exercise, they are surprised who comes to look after him.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reaching into his back pocket, Jake pulled out the pair of sunglasses he had been carrying around with him for the last few weeks. The sun here back at home was intense and he couldn't stand the migraines it gave him. Even when he was up in the air, he often had his sunglasses on. He didn't care about the way the glasses pinched his ears or gave him splitting pains in the sides of his neck.

If Bob could wear his prescription glasses to see, then Jake could wear his sunglasses to stop him squinting so much and relieve the headaches he got that were becoming chronic.

His hands fell to his hips once his visors were perched on the bridge of his nose and he looked around.

It hadn't taken Jake nearly as long as he thought to complete his physical. They were doing physical assessments and training every other day to get them ready for their next assignment. They were going to be going against gravity, travelling up to G9 range and it would cause problems with breathing, taking in oxygen and could starve their brains for a few seconds, if not longer.

They all needed to be at their best physically and mentally to prepare for this and up to now, Jake was ready and rearing to go.

Today was training exercises on the ground rather than in the air. They were all doing different activities and now that Jake was rejoining the rest of the squad after his physical, he was supposed to be doing safety and maintenance checks.

He took a look around the open air field. Bradley was over to one side, looking like he was trying to do some physical exercises, but he kept stopping to quietly argue with Maverick who was following him around like a dark, looming shadow. Jake wasn't going to be going over there. He noticed Phoenix and Bob were at their aircraft in the middle of their maintenance. While Coyote was off to one side doing pushups; he had messed up somewhere if that was his punishment. And Jake had already passed Fanboy who was on his way for his own physical.

He busied himself finding one of the clipboards and he jogged over to his aircraft, smiling and patting his hand against the bulk like it was an old friend he was meeting up with.

He circled the aircraft like a vulture, checking the wings, the engines- which had had a run in with a flock of birds two days ago which Jake had been lucky hadn't completely ruined his left engine. He checked the wheels and made sure they were all clipped and chained down so the craft wasn't going anywhere without him.

Once all the outside checks were done, he climbed up the ladder and hopped inside.

It always felt weird to sit in the plane without his proper flight suit or his signature red helmet, but he wasn't going anywhere today. He was only turning the engine on to check everything was working and making sure he got all the right responses to show he would be ready for whatever training exercise he had to go out on next.

He slouched back in the seat, spreading his knees apart with the clipboard in front of him and the pen twisting between his fingers.

After ticking a few boxes, Jake tilted his head back and poised the pen behind his ear while his hand shifted to undo the first button on his uniform. He slid his hand beneath his shirt until his fingers found the familiar silver chain hanging around his neck.

He imbedded the ring into his palm that hung on the end of the chain, always tapping and jostling against his chest whenever he moved.

It felt safer to have his wedding ring on his chain rather than his finger. If he had any accidents and needed to be taken for a scan or for surgery, they would cut his ring off. Rings got in the way, jewellery got in the way and got lost but a chain around his neck was private and secure and more importantly, Jake had that ring as close to his heart as possible.

A soft look crossed his face as he brought his hand to his mouth and kissed the ring that had created a halo indent in the centre of his hand.

"I'll be home soon." He murmured against the ring as a picture of (Y/n) flashed before his eyes.

The last deployment Jake had been on had almost killed him. Three and a half months away from home. Three and a half months where he couldn't see, touch or feel his wife in his arms or have her lips against his or her body pressed up against his own. All he got were a few brief phone calls or five minutes of faceTime every other day, if he wasn't being shipped straight out from dawn until dusk.

He was much happier here where he could spend each night in his own bed, safe in his home with his wife. He didn't have to sleep alone or feel like he was going insane from having absolutely no physical touch or contact with (Y/n). Never before had Jake thought or believed in having withdrawal symptoms for another human being until he got married and had to face the prospect of leaving (Y/n) behind.

When he was done with his checks, Jake heaved himself up to his feet and climbed down back to level ground again.

He waved his clipboard up and down in front of his face like a fan, relishing the slight breeze it created to his melting skin. If he were back home in this heat his shirt would already be off and he would be lounging around in a pair of shorts. Or be would be on the beach in this weather. Either of those thoughts sounded very appealing right now.

He stood still for a few moments, taking in his surroundings and wondering what the next task would be, but his mind kept wandering off to the girl waiting at home for him. Exactly where he wanted to be right now.

"Bob, are you almost done?" Phoenix tilted her head back with an exasperated sigh, one hand clamped around her hip as she the other held onto the ladder Bob was perched on top of.

He was filling up their aircraft with fuel, they had half a tank but it was better to be safe than sorry because they didn't know how long they would be out on their next flight exercise. The last thing they needed was to be marked down and sent to do two hundred push ups because they thought half a tank would be sufficient.

"Almost." His voice was as passive as ever while he swiped his arm across his temple, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening in the afternoon sun.

"Bob, come on we've got other stuff to do."

He didn't know what happened.

One moment Bob was pushing his glasses further up his nose, rolling his eyes at his impatient partner calling up the orders below him. But the next, a shockwave was rattling up the ladder he was perched on and set him off balance.

His hands scrambled to steady himself before he fell off and he subsequently dropped the fuel line that had been in his right hand just as he unclipped it from the air craft that was now fuelled up. Bob scrambled for balance, bashing his legs into the side of the plane and earning a cut down his left forearm that scraped along a jagged edge on the ladder.

But it was the fuel line he was concerned with. It wasn't like filling up a car at the fuel station. The air crafts were large with tanks high up at the back. They had to use large funnel lines that looked like double sized garden hoses with a large round metal clip on the end the size of Bob's hand. That metal created a sizzling sound that sliced through the air when he dropped it.

The line swooped through the air like a bird trying to land but Bob could of cried when he heard a sickening crunch below him. He didn't want to imagine what it collided with- who, it collided with. His eyes snapped closed and he clung to the ladder, trying to gain his balance back so he didn't fall and break an arm or a leg.

The resounding crack echoed around the base and shuddered through everyone within close range. It was a sound no one expected to echo through the open air like that, it travelled far and wide and had everyone coiling in on the spot.

The metal end of the fuel line pelted down, gaining strength and speed as it swung past the ladder, lifted slightly into the air and smacked straight into the right side of Jake's head. Upon impact, his sunglasses snapped and flung off his nose and took flight on a course of their own, six feet across the base.

An awful crack shuddered through Jake's ears and rattled through his head as his eyes automatically snapped closed and his shoulders hunched up. Both arms recoiled into his chest as his clipboard slipped through his fingers that twitched and spasmed, unsure what to do as his body seemed to shutdown and recalibrate all at once.

The force sent his head snapping backwards until his neck got whiplash and his body followed his head's sense of direction, thrusting backwards until he landed harshly on the concrete floor.

Shockwaves rattled through his body causing his legs to shake and spasm out against the floor as if he was kicking and throwing a tantrum and all the air left his lungs when his back hit the floor. It took a few seconds for his diaphragm to loosen and allow his lungs to take in a deep breath, but when he did, a choked moan escaped his lips.

It felt like he'd been shot in the head.

He could feel his pulse throbbing through his temple and circulating all around the circumference of his head like someone pelting round a relay race. He could feel his veins throbbing and the blood steadily trickling down the right side of his face. The feeling of blood oozing down the bridge of his nose and around his eye socket made his nose scrunch up in disgust.

His hands curled and twisted against his chest, desperate to move but the sudden onset of trembling in his bones made it impossible for Jake to coordinate his body properly.

The trembling continued even as Jake suddenly realised he couldn't hear anything around him. He couldn't open his eyes. No sounds broke through the static barrier building up in his ears. He had no control over moving a single part of his body. It felt like his head had been severed from the rest of his body.

"Jesus Bob, what the Hell?!" Bradley spun on his heels and made into a sprint towards the three of them, Maverick hot on his heels.

The sight of Jake, laid out on his back, body overwrought with trembles and blood pooling steadily down one side of his face was a sickening sight none of them ever wanted to witness.

"I wasn't- didn't you see the ladder?" Bob hissed like a snake as he shakily slid down the ladder onto unsteady feet.

His hands began to rake up and down his thighs, wiping the sweat onto his trousers as his glasses started to fall down the bridge of his nose. He hadn't done that on purpose. He didn't just let go of the fuel line; Phoenix bashed into the ladder and knocked him off course. He would have fallen if he didn't scramble for his balance. It could just as easily have been Bob's head split open if he fell the other way or completely lost his footing on the ladder.

"I'm sorry-"

A groan spluttered past Jake's lips and stopped all their ramblings. He managed to curl his fingers around the middle of his shirt and he scrunched it up in his fists as tightly as possible. His legs continued to thrash against the floor but when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't seem to do it.

"Oh God." He tried his best to reach his hand up towards his head but he could barely lift either arm from trembling against his chest.

Without his glasses that had been broken and flung off somewhere on the base, the sun was beating down on him with unwavering strength. His right eye was blinking furiously to try and stop the blood from getting into his eyes that were rolling to the back of his head that was pounding like a drum.

"Everyone shut up." Maverick's voice snapped through the air like a whip and stopped all their ramblings at once.

He crouched down beside Jake with Bradley on his other side with Bob and Phoenix hovering anxiously in the background and Coyote running over at the sound of commotion.

The wound looked bad. Maverick tilted Jake's head back and tried to touch his hairline to get a proper look. A large slash line went from his hairline towards his eyebrow and the skin had been split apart so neatly it looked like it had been cut with a sharp knife. Blood oozed out in every direction and splattered across Jake's temple and down his nose towards both his eyes like a jam donut had been tossed at his head.

He couldn't see his skull or any bone which was a good sign, but the blunt force could have been enough to crack his skull and give him a fracture. He most definitely had a concussion which meant he could have side effects.

He could start throwing up, he could black out or go fully unconscious, he could have a seizure if the impact was bad enough.

"Get him down to the medbay now." With a click of his hand over to the left, Coyote hurried forward and knelt down behind Jake while Bradley shuffled forward.

The pair of them carefully took one of Jake's arms each and looped them around the back of their necks.

"Alright, up. Let's get you up Hangman." Bradley looped his right arm around Jake's waist while his left hand gripped Jake's wrist. He held his breath and slowly pushed up onto his feet, slowly pulling Jake with him who looked very worse for wear.

Jake's head flopped forward as soon as he was sitting up. He groaned again, spluttering through a moan, spit forming on his lips and blood still trickling down his face. He could feel the shock setting in because even his neck was shaking now and once he was on his feet, his knees wavered and his legs felt oddly heavy and useless. He could barely stay upright and when his knees gave way, he slumped down like he was trying to sit on an imaginary chair.

His hands scrunched down around Coyote and Bradley's shoulders as each of them held his waist and kept him up on his feet.

Both Jake's feet bent awkwardly and the toes of his shoes scraped against the floor as the pair of them dragged him slowly towards the open hanger doors. He tried to move his legs and he did somewhat help them, but he relied on them to drag him along because he felt like collapsing to the floor and curling up into a ball.

He managed to find the will to open his eyes once they were inside, but the sight of the tiled floor disappearing and all the lines blurring before his eyes made his head swoon.

He found his eyes rolling around in his skull before he jolted forward with a croaky "Gonna puke."

True to his word, Jake tossed up his lunch the moment the boys paused in their quick shuffle towards the medbay. He felt a little better after that and he managed to lift his head once the three of them began their awkward tandem walk together.

By the time they were near the medic bay, Jake managed to place one foot in front of the other. He did an awkward walk and started to help them so they didn't have to heave him the whole way there.

"We've had an accident. The fuel line cracked Hangman straight in the temple and knocked him out. He threw up on the way down here." Bradley looked between the two medics idling around and waited for one of them to point towards the bed in the left corner of the large bunker space.

They trotted to the left and turned around, carefully easing Jake down until he was sat in the middle of the bed.

He felt more alive and a bit better once he was sat down. His head flopped back until the base of his head was touching the back of his shoulders and his shaking hands gripped the edge of the bed with intensity to keep himself sitting upright. It took all his effort to stop himself trembling and he tried to take deep breaths to ward off the sickness and the wave of dizziness that overwhelmed him.

"Okay Seresin, let's take a look."

Coyote and Bradley backed up until they were stood to one side. Neither of them fancied going back outside to finish off their exercises when Jake didn't look in his best shape. They would rather wait here to make sure he was alright and then head back to the rest of the team and tell them how he was fairing up. It was clear that Jake would be going home early today, he was lucky not to have been killed with that force, there was no way he was carrying on with any work today after this.

Jake begrudgingly lifted his head when one of the doctors stood in front of him. He let the man hold his chin and tilt his head from side to side to assess the damage and when he shone a pen light across his eyes, Jake winced.

A frightful yelp left his lips when the man tried to touch the wound and he reeled back with a groan.

"Afraid I'm gonna need an X-ray before I can stitch it. I'll clean the wound and get you some painkillers first." They were lucky the wound was on his head as they had a small, portable X-ray scanner in the back room they could use just to double check they didn't have to send him to hospital for urgent treatment. But if it looked okay, he could get some pain relief, be stitched up and sent home for the day.

"Great." Jake winced, trying to form a lopsided smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.

At least he would get to go home earlier than he thought.

***

"Hey," Bob groaned as sweat dripped off his body and onto a small puddle forming on the stone beneath him. His arms trembled as he tried to continue his push ups now that he was well into the hundreds. "Who's that?"

He nudged his nose against his shoulder to push the glasses further up his nose while he indicated his head to the left, signalling Phoenix's attention towards the person advancing across the base.

Maverick had told Bob and Phoenix to finish off Jake's safety checks, prep his fuel tank too and then do a set of two hundred push ups. They both knew they should have been more careful and they shouldn't have started squabbling like children when Jake was hauled off to the medic bay.

Phoenix lifted her head and glanced her eyes around, trying to find out who Bob was referring to. When her eyes set on a woman walking their way, her brows furrowed and she watched where she was walking.

She wasn't in uniform, whoever she was. She had on a baby blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that stopped just before her knees. Her bag was hung on her shoulder, the strap clutched tightly in her hand and there was a nervous look plastered across her face.

The woman seemed to spare them a glance, noting that they were both sweating through their uniforms, before her eyes set on Maverick and she made a beeline for him.

"Mav, where is he?" (Y/n) bit her lower lip nervously when she reached Maverick who greeted her with a warm smile and a hand on her elbow.

"He's with a doctor, come with me."

(Y/n) nodded and let Maverick lead her inside the base. She couldn't quite believe how high up the ceilings were or how large the bay doors were, it was like everything was amplified as if giants worked and lived here. It felt strange to be walking round here with Maverick when Jake always said he would give her a tour round one day. Plans changed.

She had been expecting much worse when Maverick rang her and said Jake had had a 'minor accident' at the base, but knowing it was nothing to do with a crash or him being in a plane at all made (Y/n) feel better. It stopped her from having a breakdown or a panic attack as she drove down here, but she couldn't fathom what had happened. What kind of accident would her husband have when he was supposed to be safe here on the ground?

She glanced over her shoulder, noticing that the two others who had been doing press ups were now following after her and Maverick, presumably so they could see Jake too. They must be part of his team.

"What happened?"

"Phoenix and Bob, behind you," Maverick tossed a look over his shoulder and pointed his thumb in their direction. "Had a mishap when they fueled their plane. The pipeline dropped and caught Jake in the temple. I think he's got a mild concussion, but he'll be fine."

(Y/n) brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, hearing her shoes clicking loudly against the tiled floor as she followed Maverick around three corners and down a long corridor until they were in front of a medical wing.

That didn't sound too bad. That wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting, but it still wasn't good.

Her husband shouldn't be getting into accidents like this at work. He shouldn't be getting smashed in the head with their equipment. He was a pilot, an aviator. He was training every day to be in top physical performance and here he was with a concussion because his team had clearly lacked concentration.

It took all the effort (Y/n) had not to run ahead once they walked into a large open unit almost the same size as the open field outside. There was only one patient in here and (Y/n) set her sights on him immediately.

Jake was sat on the side of a bed, his legs swinging back and forth like a child at a doctor's appointment. His hands were clutching either side of the bed, his lips were set in a firm line and he kept squinting and closing his eyes as a doctor was stood in front of him, cleaning his wound.

Once they were close enough, (Y/n) hurried past Maverick and dropped her bag down by the foot of the bed. She didn't want to get in the way when the doctor was clearly trying to assess Jake and sort him out, but the moment Jake glanced to the left, his eyes widened and he jerked out of the doctor's grip.

"Baby." The surprise was evident in his voice and he let go of the bed to reach an arm out in (Y/n)'s direction. As soon as he started curling his fingers in a grabbing motion, (Y/n) smiled and moved forward.

Jake immediately coiled his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reeled her closer until she had to plant her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. His fingers squeezed her hip tightly and he kissed the top of her chest before he glanced over her shoulder towards Maverick.

"You called my wife?"

The shock was evident in Jake's voice, but it was the looks of the rest of the team that made him wince. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he happened to be married, that knowledge was on a need to know basis and as his superior, Maverick was the only one who needed to know. For emergency situations like this if Jake ever got hurt or shot down or sent to hospital.

There was no way they could let him drive home and since he had been injured, Maverick knew it was best to call (Y/n) and let her know so she could come and pick him up.

"You got concussed and you won't be able to drive home. Yes, I called your missus. You're welcome."

Maverick placed his hand on his hip and tilted his head to one side. Once Jake was silenced with that one look, Maverick nodded to himself and turned to leave. He knew none of them would be doing any more exercises today and he was okay with that, they would call it a day and start again tomorrow.

"You're married?"

"You never mentioned you're married to such a stunning girl."

(Y/n) tilted her head to the right, figuring the man that said that must be Bradley, the one Jake said was close to Maverick. He had a raised brow and his lips quirked into a smile beneath his moustache while both arms folded tightly over his chest.

She could feel the glares Jake was sending towards Bradley, squinting and glaring over in his direction before he looked back up at his wife.

With a quiet groan, Jake moved his hands from (Y/n)'s hips so he could bind his arms tightly around her waist. His hands feathered up and down her back and he pushed forward until his lips attached to her exposed chest just beneath her collar bone.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why did you need to know?" He countered, smirking tiredly against (Y/n)'s chest and he twisted his head so the left side of his face could press down against her skin. His cheek nuzled into her chest and he looked over at the team, watching the blush that rose to Bob's face that tilted down to look at his shoes and the way Phoenix rubbed the back of her neck bashfully.

He hadn't told them because it wasn't their business, they didn't need to know. He was in love, he was head over heels in love with his wife and in Jake's eyes, she was his little secret.

He didn't want the team teasing him or asking about her or trying to make jokes that he was tied down. He had dealt with that in the past with other people he worked with and he didn't like it. He smiled when people flirted with him in bars, but he kindly turned every one of them down and didn't let them get too close. (Y/n) was the reason why.

Sometimes it felt safer to keep (Y/n) as his little secret. What they did was dangerous, they had all lost friends in this job and it was hard to bring friends and family into this life. Jake didn't know if introducing (Y/n) to his team would be too much.

For him, it felt better to keep work and home life separate.

With a sigh, Jake lifted his cheek from (Y/n)'s chest, his lips forming a thin line as he stared up at her despite the headache that was swirling around behind his eyes. He scanned his eyes around the team who were all watching on eagerly like this was their favourite tv soap.

"Darlin', this is the dagger squad," Jake waved his hand around, muttering their call signs to which (Y/n) nodded earnestly. "Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n)."

"Nice to meet you all, even under strange circumstances," (Y/n) quirked a brow when Bob tipped his head down with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Clearly he felt guilty for the accident and (Y/n) was sure she heard him mutter a soft 'sorry again' clearly directed towards Jake.

He wasn't going to hold a grudge. It had been an accident and a few stitches was much better than some of the injuries he'd gotten on this job. But he would be holding this over them in the future and he knew he had earned himself a few free beers down at the Hard Deck for this.

"How bad is it then?"

Jake felt shockwaves coursing through his blood when (Y/n)'s hands moved from his shoulders to gently cup his face in her hands.

He loved the feeling of her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones just beneath his eyes and the way her fingertips tapped behind the tip of his jaw near his ears. His lips curved into a smile, despite the aching in his temple that had gone down a little when he took the aspirin and painkillers he was given.

His eyes squinted up at his wife whose lips curved into a pouting smile while her head tilted to the side, inspecting the wound on his temple.

All the blood had been cleaned from Jake's face and neck and his head had been X-rayed and dabbed with anticeptic, all he needed now was stitches.

"What am I gonna do with you?" (Y/n) murmured softly while she tilted Jake's head down in her hands so she could pepper kisses against the middle of his temple which no doubt would be aching. She didn't want to touch or go too near the wound, she knew even a light touch was going to hurt and she didn't want to hurt him. But he leaned into her touch and groaned, tightening his arms around her waist while his hands slid further down her back.

"I can think of a few things."

"I don't think I wanna see that." Coyote ran a hand down his face and patted Bradley's chest before he began to walk. He would see what Maverick wanted them to do, whether they were all getting the afternoon off or just Jake. He murmured a soft "Nice to meet you, Mrs Seresin." And laid a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as he passed her.

"Yeah, us neither. Sorry again, Hangman, we'll owe you a few rounds when your back in action." Phoenix waved her hand towards Jake and dipped her head before she headed out with Bob following in her wake.

He uttered a soft "Nice to see you, sorry Hangman." before he followed Phoenix, silently praying they wouldn't have to finish the last twenty six push ups they had skipped when they followed Maverick and (Y/n) down here to the medic bay.

"Well, you look like your in good hands, so I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we'll see you soon, Mrs Hangman."

Once Bradley disappeared, (Y/n) managed to untangle herself from her husband's arms, causing him to grunt and pout dramatically. His hands reached out for her but she didn't move far. She stepped out from between his legs and moved to stand on his left side near the end of the bed he was perched on. Her arm looped around his back and her hand gave his shoulder a squeeze while she kissed the good side of his temple.

"When can I take him home?"

"I'll just do the stitches and then he's all yours."

Jake couldn't hide the grimace that flooded his face when he saw the needle and thread. He didn't like the inconvenience of stitches. His eyes briefly glanced up at (Y/n) before he shimmied round on the seat so his back was towards her. And he slowly reclined his head until the back of his head was settled down on (Y/n)'s shoulder.

He did his best to keep his head steady and his eyes fell closed when he saw an injection needle coming close. The numbing agent to make the stitches more bearable.

A low whistle passed his lips and when (Y/n)'s free hand curled over his thigh, Jake reached down and curled his hand over hers. He squeezed tight and tried to take slow, deep breaths when the needle finally started puncturing through his skin. It didn't exactly hurt, but he felt a sharp sting and each time the thread was pulled tight, Jake could feel his brow lifting as the skin was dragged back together.

Six stitches later and (Y/n) could barely feel her hand from how tightly Jake was squeezing it. She leaned her head down and kissed the top of his head, nudging her nose against his soft wavy hair as Jake finally opened his eyes.

"You're good to go with a mild concussion, Seresin. No flying for twenty-four hours, and if you go any higher than G7, I'll need to see you back here for a check over."

"Copy that."

"Thank you for patching him up."

When Jake hopped up from the bed, (Y/n) moved her arm lower to secure around his waist and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of his jaw which caused his lips to pull into a wide grin. He draped his arm over her shoulders, feeling much better than he did earlier.

The last thing he wanted to do was lean on (Y/n) and have her dragging him out of here like the guys had heaved him in earlier. He could walk on his own two feet again.

"That's going to leave a scar." (Y/n) murmured softly, reaching her left hand up to graze her fingers over his brow just beneath the row of navy blue stitches on his temple. It wasn't going to leave a dent or a prominent, deep line, but it would leave a faint streak of white like a dash of paint across his skin.

She pressed another kiss to Jake's jaw until he tilted his head down and captured her lips in a soft, burning kiss instead. "I know," He muttered softly against her lips, kissing her again and again as they walked as slow as possible out of the base.

"But I know you love my war wounds."

[promisingyounglady]

watermelons. | JS x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.

PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.

He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.

And by the girls, he means your tits.

Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.

And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.

The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.

“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.

“Back off, Bradshaw”

And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.

“Hi sweetheart”

It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.

“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.

“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.

And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.

All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.

That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.

“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.

He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.

“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.

You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”

Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.

You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.

“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.

Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.

“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.

The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.

The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.

Jake Seresin was a tits guy.

So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.

You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.

“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”

He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.

“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.

you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.

You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.

“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.

[skywalkerslvt]

Cramped—Logan Howlett

❥Pairing: Logan Howlett x AFAB!Reader (no pronouns other than 'you' mentioned)

❥Summary: While on the run from enemies, Logan and reader find a temporary hideout; a cramped supply closet. Things ensue...

❥CW: 18+, smut, forced proximity, minor dry humping, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it hoes), 2.2k words

❥a/n: god I'm such a fucking slut for this man. Hope u enjoy reading this highkey cliché fic as much as I enjoyed writing it (I had way too much fun writing this it's concerning) NOT PROOFREAD!!

The plan had seemed foolproof—until it wasn’t. What was meant to be a quiet infiltration erupted into gunfire and chaos, forcing you and Logan to improvise on the fly. You sprinted through the labyrinth of hallways, the sound of pounding footsteps and barked orders hot on your heels. Just when your lungs felt like they'd burst, Logan's hand shot out, gripping your arm and pulling you into a narrow doorway. Before you could react, he dragged you into a cramped, pitch-black closet, slamming the door behind you. His chest was flush against your back, one hand swiftly covering your mouth to stifle your gasps while the other was wrapped around your waist. The heat of his body pressed into you as his breath tickled your ear. "Quiet," he whispered, voice low and rough. "We can't outrun them. We're hiding here until they pass." The tight space, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, and the intensity of his presence made it impossible to focus on anything else.

You could feel Logan's chest rising and falling against your back, the heat of his breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine despite the tension in the air. "Quiet, huh?" you muttered under your breath, shifting slightly against his hold. "This was your idea, remember? Charging headfirst into a whole squad of armed men?"

Logan’s grip tightened on your arm, his voice a low growl in your ear. “I didn’t hear you coming up with any better plans. Unless you count running in circles while getting shot at as a strategy.”

You rolled your eyes, even though you knew he couldn’t see it. “Maybe if you’d actually listened to me for once, we wouldn’t be hiding in a damn closet right now.”

Logan huffed, his breath warm against your ear. “Yeah, well, maybe if you weren’t so damn stubborn, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.” 

You opened your mouth to retort, but the sudden closeness of his body, the feel of his rough hand that had moved from your mouth to your collarbone, and his hot breath fanning against your neck stopped you short. The tension between you had always been there, simmering under the surface, but now, in this cramped, dark space, it felt like it might just boil over.

Blinking, you regained your composure. “Well, I-” you began, but were quickly cut off by his hand covering your mouth again, your words muffled against his flesh. 

“Someone's coming,” he breathed, his grip on you tightening as you were pulled impossibly closer against his body. Sure enough, footsteps sounded outside the door a few moments later. 

As the footsteps halted right outside the door, the tension between you and Logan grew almost unbearable. Your heart pounded wildly, not just from fear, but from the electric charge that seemed to crackle in the air between your bodies. Logan's chest pressed firmly against your back, his hand still covering your mouth. The warmth of his breath fanned against your neck, sending shivers down your spine despite the danger lurking just beyond the door.

You were hyper-aware of every point of contact–his solid body behind you, the rough texture of his hand on your skin, the way his breath hitched slightly as the person outside hesitated, listening.

Your senses were on overdrive, each second stretching out as your body reacted to Logan's closeness in ways you couldn't control.

It was wrong, wildly inappropriate given the situation, but the feel of his hard chest against your back, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, was doing things to you that you'd never admit out loud. You shifted slightly, trying to ease the tension in your muscles, but the movement only made things worse–or better, depending on how you looked at it.

Your slight wiggle caused your hips to brush against his in the confined space, and Logan's grip on you tightened, a low, almost imperceptible groan escaping him. The sound sent a thrill straight to your core, your breath catching in your throat as you realized what you'd just done. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against you, his "predicament" unmistakable in the dark, cramped closet.

Logan's fingers flexed against your waist, his breath coming faster, rougher against your ear. He didn't pull away, didn't loosen his grip, and for a moment, you were both frozen, caught in the tension of the moment, the thin line between danger and desire.

Your pulse raced, and the temptation to grind back against him, to push things just a little further, was almost overwhelming. The footsteps outside were retreating, but neither of you moved, the charged silence between you heavy with unspoken need.

Logan sighed, his head thrown back against the wall in shame. He cleared his throat, his grip on your waist loosening slightly. “Listen…I-” he cut himself off with a groan as you pushed your ass back against crotch, your desire for him pushing your fear of getting caught to the side. 

“Shh. Just–just shut up,” you whispered, eyes squeezing closed as you leaned your head back against his shoulder. 

Logan's breath hitched at the unexpected pressure, his body reacting instinctively to the friction. His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer as he groaned low in your ear, his restraint slipping. You could feel the heat of him through his pants, hard and insistent against you, the tension between you igniting like a spark to dry tinder.

"Fuck, you're really playing with fire," Logan rasped, his voice strained, teetering between warning and desire.

But he didn't push you away. Instead, his fingers dug into your hip, his chest pressed so tightly against your back that you could feel the rapid beat of his heart matching your own.

The weight of your mutual attraction was heavy in the cramped space, the unspoken desire that had been simmering beneath the surface now threatening to consume you both. You could sense the hesitation in Logan's movements, the conflict between wanting to push you away and the undeniable need that had taken hold of him.

"Yeah, well," you breathed, your own voice shaky with both fear and excitement, "maybe I like the heat."

You felt Logan's lips brush against the shell of your ear, his fingers now trailing your waistband, his hot breath fanning across your skin as his resolve finally broke. “Tell me you don't want this. Tell me to stop,” he muttered, but the way his body pressed into yours, hard and unyielding, told you he wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.

You shook your head, breathing out a soft “no,” and that was all Logan needed to hear. His hand made its way down the front of your pants, fingers rubbing slow circles on your clothed clit as he sloppily kissed and bit at your neck. 

A small, breathless moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled by the thick air in the cramped closet. Logan's reaction was immediate–his hand left your waistband and clamped over your mouth again, his lips now brushing against your ear as he whispered harshly, "You need to keep quiet, darlin. Or we'll both get caught, and this won't end the way either of us wants."

The combination of his roughened voice and the intoxicating closeness sent a shiver down your spine. The feel of his body so intimately pressed against yours, his hand possessively over your mouth, only fueled the fire building inside you. But the very real danger just outside the door added a sharp edge to your desire.

Logan's hand lingered on your mouth, as if he wasn't sure whether you'd manage to hold back the sounds threatening to spill from you, the tension in his grip telling you he was barely holding on himself. His hips pressed into yours, the heat between your bodies growing more intense by the second, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted him, consequences be damned.

Logan's fingers hovered at the waistband of your pants, his resolve hanging by a thread. You could feel his hesitation, the way his chest heaved against your back as if he were trying to convince himself to stop. But when your hips shifted back, pressing firmly against him, it shattered any remaining restraint.

His hand slipped beneath the fabric of your pants, his rough fingers sliding past your underwear and finding your slick heat. A choked sound rumbled in his chest as his fingers began to move, slow and deliberate, tracing soft circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body. He pressed his lips against your neck, muffling his own groans as he worked you over, the rhythm of his fingers steadily increasing in pace.

You bit your lip hard, trying to keep quiet, but each twist of his fingers made it harder and harder to hold back the whimpers threatening to escape.

Logan's other hand remained firmly over your mouth, his breath ragged in your ear. He was losing control, his fingers moving faster, deeper, curling inside you with a hunger that matched your own.

"Fuck," he growled softly, the curse slipping past his lips as he felt you tightening around him, your body responding eagerly to his touch. He couldn't take it anymore. The sound of your muffled moans, the way you writhed against him–it was driving him insane.

Without warning, he withdrew his fingers, earning a frustrated whimper from you. But before you could protest, he spun you around, pressing your back against the rough wall of the closet. His eyes were dark, filled with a raw, unbridled need as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, his hand already working at the buttons of your pants.

You broke the kiss just long enough to gasp for air, your hands fumbling with the buckle of his belt, desperate to feel him inside you. Logan groaned into your mouth, the sound low and primal, as he shoved your pants down just enough to give him access.

He pressed you harder against the wall, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist as he freed himself from the confines of his pants. The feel of him, hot and hard against your thigh, made your head spin, and when he finally thrust into you, the sensation was overwhelming–an exquisite mix of pleasure and pain.

Logan's grip on your waist tightened, his forehead resting against yours as he began to move, each thrust rough and urgent, his hips slamming into yours with a rhythm that was desperate, almost frantic. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he drove into you, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

"Fuck... you feel so good," he groaned, his voice barely a whisper, but the raw emotion behind it sent a thrill through your entire body. The tension between you, the weeks of pent-up frustration and unspoken desire, all came pouring out in the way he fucked you–hard, fast, and with a reckless abandon that left you breathless.

Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder despite your best efforts to stay quiet. Logan's hand quickly covered your mouth again, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you steady as he pounded into you. "Quiet," he rasped, though the quiver in his voice betrayed his own struggle to keep silent. "Can't let them hear how badly you want this. How badly you want me."

The filthy words pushed you over the edge. Your body tightened around him, pleasure crashing through you in waves, and Logan groaned loudly against your ear as he followed you over the edge, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you.

For a moment, the world outside the closet ceased to exist, leaving only the sound of your ragged breaths and the aftershocks of your release. Logan kept his forehead pressed against yours, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control.

Finally, he pulled back slightly, his hand still resting on your waist as he looked into your eyes, the intensity in his gaze softened by the shared experience. "You alright?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You nodded, still catching your breath, the weight of what just happened slowly sinking in. But there was no time to dwell on it–footsteps sounded in the distance, reminding you both that the danger was far from over.

Logan adjusted your clothes quickly, his hands surprisingly gentle despite what had just transpired. "We gotta move," he whispered, his tone back to business, though the lingering heat in his eyes told you that what had just happened was far from forgotten.

With one last, lingering look, Logan cracked the door open, peering out to make sure the coast was clear. Then, with a silent nod, he took your hand, leading you out of the closet and back into the chaos that awaited.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Hellbound Angel

Male Yandere Demon x Male Angel Reader (CW: Noncon, drugged reader, drugged sex, drug-like cum, drug-like saliva, big ol' horse cock, literally equine dick, belly bulge, armpit kink, scent kink, musk, underwear sniffing, kidnapping, general yandere behavior, temporarily mind-broken reader, religious themes, dehydration, forced feminization, reader has minor injuries not inflicted by yandere) Word Count: 2.2k

In the never-ending war against the legions of Hell, the middle ground where most of the fighting was done was on Earth. However, the heavenly forces sometimes deemed an incursion into Hell necessary.

You had been sent on a mission to scout ahead and take note of the coming forces.

Angels were stronger than most demons. Even so, almost your entire squad had been wiped out in a bloody ambush. The other survivors had used the one holy recall scroll to teleport themselves back to heaven.

Each squad sent into Hell is given one and only one. They probably thought you were dead already when they left still with demons in pursuit. They had to act quickly. You didn't blame them. Without it, you were trapped here. Unless you could find a demon's gate that could take you to Earth. That's how the demons made it out. But there would certainly be legions of the enemy at such places.

You had managed to escape the slaughter of your scouting party, but you were injured. Your wings had been hurt as had your leg. Relatively minor injuries, but in a hostile land, they certainly made things more difficult.

To be honest, you weren't exactly the strongest angel on a good day. This was not a good day.

You limped along the rocky landscape, using your holy staff as a walking stick. You stayed low to remain unseen by any wandering beasts or demons as you made your way out of the fiery wastelands and into the white sand desert. Hell wasn't all fire and brimstone. It was the most popular depiction of Hell's most dramatic landscape, but there were other biomes, too. Now you were getting into one of the many deserts Hell had to offer.

It was cooler than the burning wastes, but by no means was it comfortable. Water and food were scarce, the white sands were nearly blinding, and the swirling black sky was a constant ominous reminder that you were not safe.

You could go a long time without food and water. You wouldn't die without them, but after a while, you would wither up and be unable to move. You'd go into a kind of stasis. And then you'd be defenseless.

For days, you wandered. At least... you thought it was days. Despite the perpetually black sky the sun never set. Your lips were chapped, your wounds aching, hope dying in your heart. You had to find an oasis to rest at. Build up your strength. From the limited maps you had seen of this region of Hell there should be one at the heart of this desert, but with your wings and legs messed up it would still take many days still to reach it.

There were several more days of endless marching, hobbling on your injured leg that was getting harder and harder to walk on before you finally saw the oasis in the distance. You tried your best to approach stealthily, going behind dunes and sand drifts whenever possible, and wrapping your white wings around you to provide some measure of camouflage with the white sands. As you got near, it disappeared in a puff of smoke. And out of the smoke stood a demon. It was a trap.

Dark brownish red skin, sharp horns, a tail flicking back and forth, and he stood at least a foot taller than you. He was very muscular, his sweat coated abs glistened in the sunlight. He wore nothing. His long horse-like cock and big nuts swinging freely below a thick patch of black pubic hair.

You caught yourself accidentally staring and looked away quickly before readying your divine staff for a fight. Which was really hard, since you could barely stand without it.

The demon winked and chuckled.

"Do you like it~ There's no harm in just looking, you know?"

He closed the distance between the two of you in a flash and knocked the staff away in one fluid motion.

"As a matter of fact, you can do a lot more than look, little bird. My cum would make you feel so much better~ That oasis you're looking for is still miles away."

"Uh, thanks for the kind offer, but I think I will pass. I'll just be on my way and out of your hair."

You stepped back slowly, hoping to make it to your staff so you could maybe limp away and give him a good smack if he followed. But he wasn't giving you the chance.

"Oh, but you're dehydrated!"

He took a few steps forward until there were mere inches between you. He put a hand on your cheek and thumbed at your chapped lips gently.

"Your lips are all dry. Let me help~"

Before you could decline, he held your head in place and leaned down. He traced and prodded your sore lips with his long slick tongue.

You tried to push him away but couldn't do much in your current condition. And the saliva was having some kind of effect on you.

He slipped his tongue past your lips and kissed you greedily.

Your head grew fuzzy and your legs weak. His spit was some type of drug. It felt... nice...

You resisted it as long as you could, even resorting to biting his tongue, but he ignored it and continued. Moments later, you slumped against him, your head on his muscular chest. The only thought in your head as you passed out was how nice this man in front of you smelled.

He picked you up gently and carried you bridal style. It was fitting since you were certainly his little bride now, as far as he was concerned. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head and then started walking towards the underground dwelling he called home.

When you woke up, your wounds had been healed, and you felt a lot better. Though you were still dizzy. There was an intoxicating smell all around you and you didn't recognize your surroundings.

Your first instinct was to jump up and flee, but you were immediately pulled back down and placed in the lap of your demonic captor. His monstrous cock poking out between your thighs.

You looked down and realized you were naked, your soft cock and balls laying on his unnaturally warm prick.

"Let me go!" You elbowed him as hard as you could but he must have made sure you stayed drugged because you couldn't muster up any strength to put into your struggle.

"Let you go? After all the trouble I have gone through to romance you?"

"Romance!? You kidnapped me and I don't even know who the fuck you are, creep!!"

You struggled with renewed anger, smacking your head backwards, elbowing, kicking, and scratching. All amounting to you gasping for breath, tired, while he chuckled at the attempt.

"You're in Hell! I could have raped you and left you in the sand to be killed by any passing monster and that still would have been considered romance."

He placed his large hands on your legs with his thumbs drawing lazy circles on your thighs.

"I saved you from the desert, treated your wounds, let you rest for days, fed you, gave you water, and bathed you. That is damn romantic!"

He started assaulting your neck with little licks and kisses, enjoying how you squirmed in protest while sitting on his equine cock.

"As for the name that you'll be moaning when I bury myself in you, it's Tevrik."

"My friends will come back for me. You should save yourself the trouble and let me go now!"

This was a bluff, of course. They almost certainly thought you were dead. You didn't know if your deception would work, but you didn't expect him to respond with a cackle.

"No, they won't! Rathiel won't let em!"

A shudder went through you at the mention of your boss who had ordered the mission into Hell.

"He's one of Hell's best agents. Gives us lots of intel."

You were dumbfounded and fell silent a moment before regaining your composure and replying angrily.

"Lies from a worthless demon!"

"I'd never lie to you, sweetie~"

He trailed his hands up and down your thighs as he continued.

"How else did we set up that ambush? Rathiel sent you to us. We needed more angel blood. But not yours."

Your blood ran cold as he began grinding into you.

"I picked you out from a bunch of employee profiles just to be my little princess. I'm half angel myself and wanted an angel bride~ We'll rule this region of Hell together!"

He repositioned you on his lap to face towards him as his flared cock grew fully erect.

"You weren't supposed to be hurt in the battle. I'm so sorry about that. I killed the demons who did it."

You didn't even struggle when he positioned you above his dick, hot precum smearing your hole as his cock pressed against it. The betrayal drained the fight from you.

"After the battle, I just followed you for a bit, so you'd be tired. And now here you are. With me."

The precum and smell of his arousal were making you dizzier. The words he spoke brought tears from your eyes.

"Awe, don't cry. After we have some alone time to adjust, I'll take you to the palace~ You'll be royalty!"

You winced as his cock entered you, expecting pain. Surprisingly, there was none. Instead it was like every cell in your body was filled with pleasure.

This couldn't be right. You had to escape. Sex with a demon was a very taboo thing.

You started struggling but Tevrik held you still.

"Shhh, I know you're upset. But just let it happen, okay? I'll make you feel so good."

As his precum continued to dribble out of his dick and into you and as the betrayal by your trusted higher up sank in you once more lost the will to fight.

Why were you fighting anyway? This cock felt so nice. And he was so kind and romantic to go through all this trouble to get you away from your evil boss right?

You relaxed and lay against his chest as he pumped into you slowly. You looked up at him and realized he had your underwear in his hand and was holding it up to his nose sniffing the crotch.

"You smell so good, girly. So good. You feel good too."

"You smell nice too!" Then your brain caught up with the rest of what he had said.

"A-and I'm not a g-girl." Too focused on your pleasure to really care.

"Nah, you're too pretty to be a man. Too weak too. Plus you have this tight little cunt hugging my dick. You're definitely a girly~"

"O-okay."

You blushed because he called you pretty. You supposed he made a lot of sense. You were clearly a girl. You wondered why you didn't know that sooner. It felt right.

He chuckled warmly as you drooled on his chest and made cute little gasps and moans. He couldn't wait until you were moaning his name.

Tevrik didn't pound you, he didn't want to hurt his sweet baby bird. Instead he just rocked his hips into you and enjoyed the effect it had on you.

After you started making those delicious noises his demonic precum began to make you super cuddly. He continued to breed your tight hole while you started nuzzling him and leaving gentle kisses on his chest. He began grinding into you a bit faster and more forcefully, his cock clearly outlined through your belly as it nestled into you as deeply as he could get it.

"Fuck babe, I'm about to bust."

But you came before he did it. Your cock spilling silvery angelic seed on his belly as you called his name and clung to him tightly. The combined sight of you cumming while impaled by his dick while at the same time calling his name just like you promised he would sent Tevrik over the edge. His large balls filled your tummy with hot demon cum. It made you feel warm and fluttery and loved. Like you could feel his emotions through his seed.

You were so tired from all the emotion and sex that you passed out on top of him, nuzzling your nose into the comforting scent of his armpit as you clung to him.

Tevrik smiled. You were just so precious. Sadly, he knew you'd regress back into struggling against him. But that was okay. He would keep reminding you how the angels threw you away and keep breeding you full of his drug-like semen. Soon you'd crave it. He'd bed you constantly until you needed it. And then breed you as much as you wanted him to after that.

Yeah, it would take a while. But he had all the time in the universe.

Tevrik sighed with content and closed his eyes, taking your underwear and putting it back up to his nose while he relaxed with his cock still deep inside you.

You may have been in Hell, but Tevrik was in Heaven.

[keferon]

I need to see this. I'm doing it.

After reading this post. https://www.tumblr.com/spector-author/769138472871182336/keferon-first-things-first-this-is-so-sweet-of?source=share

(i don't know how to add a link from mobile)

I just want to see them interact.

-------

"FELIX!! YOU DID WHAT!?"

Ratchet voice boomed from hangar. Felix shrinks, squeezing his eyes shut until the ringing in his ears stopped.

"I was afraid so I take the sleeping bag to Vortex and..."

"Do you understand how dangerous that was!!! You could have died!!"

"I...I know but..." Vortex wouldn't hurt him. He swallowed the rest of the sentence under Ratchet's intense glare

a loud metal foot step was head and Vortex moved over head. He could barely fit, so the mech has to kneel down. Cameras locking on to the old man, gigantic hand lifting up like it wants to grab him.

Deadlock move instantly. Although smaller than Vortex by almost half, he tries his best to put himself between Ratchet and the bigger mech, blades at the ready.

"Stop right there, big guy" he said, pointing the blade a Vortex.

"Vortex! No!!" First Aid cries, the mech didn't move further, but didn't back down.

"What..? It can actually move without a pilot?" Ratchet stares up at the mech in disbelief. He knew of the rumors, but most rumors were still of things that could happened. Freak accidents and malfunctions. This is the mech actually moving without anyone inside the cockpit.

"Yes. He can...He has been for the most part" Felix answers weakly. Still looking up silently pleading for Vortex to back down.

"He?"

"Vortex....He's...there"

"I don't want to talk like I believe in ghost. But, Ratchet, he's there"

As if to emphasize the point, Vortex moved again, reaching his hand over again threatening to grab at Ratchet. Deadlock raises his blade.

"ENOUGH! Both of you! Stop before I make spare parts out of you!"

There was a pause. Felix can feel Vortex's camera moved from the other mech to Ratchet who out his hand on his hips glaring at both mechs.

Finally Vortex moves. He made a rude gesture at Deadlock then withdraw. Deadlock lower his blade.

Felix realizes he was holding his breath the whole time.

---

I imagine Vortex used to getting yelled at a lot by Ratchet and the others for being really reckless with his piloting. Sometime he comes back with the mech in a mess. A few times he broke his own arms or legs because he was too violent wrestling with the kaijus.

OH YOU. YOU JUST MADE ME REALIZE AHAHA

You made me realize what kind of circus will form if all the guys and gays get to team up. Because usually we have a bunch of characters who are at least somewhat compatible. But these guys??

Literally ahaha. We have a Decepticon who's used to ignore everyone who doesn't outrank him (also a professional backstabber may I add)

Then we have class Keter SCP fucking metal giant sadist/masochist/freak who is also allergic to any kind of authority.

Then we have poor little Swerve who just wants to save his crush.

And then Prowl who is an Autobot and basically should be in charge here but literally WHO is gonna listen to him??

Those aren't Avengers, those are the Suicide squad but it's called suicide because they're literally gonna dismember each other after five minutes in one room.

First aid, Ratchet, Jazz and Blurr: It's so nice to hang out with you guys. So chill and great.

Their gay machinery:

[penguicorns-are-cool]

Elphaba: You’re charged with…..breaking into a pet store?

Fiyero: I thought the animals might be lonely.

Fiyero: I could kill you if I wanted.

Elphaba: Yeah? So could any other human being. So could a dog. So could a dedicated duck. You aren't special.

Galinda, shooing Elphaba away: Can you go be depressed over there? You’re bumming out my whole area.

Elphaba: Wait a minute, how did this happen? We're smarter than this!

Fiyero: Apparently, we're not.

Glinda : Can you cut me some slack, Elphaba? I’m sort of in love.

Elphaba: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem.

Glinda : I’m in love with you.

Elphaba: *blushes* Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.

Fiyero: So, how long have you and Elphaba been together?

Glinda : No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Elphaba and I are not together. No. No.

Fiyero: Really? Sixteen ‘nos’? Really?

Fiyero: Quitting! It's like trying, but easier.

Elphaba: I dare you-

Glinda : Fiyero is not allowed to accept dares anymore.

Elphaba: Why not?

Fiyero: "I have no regard for my own or others personal safety", as some would say.

Fiyero: Come on, Glinda . Nobody actually believes that Elphaba is in love with me.

Glinda , to The Squad: Raise your hand if you think that Elphaba is helplessly in love with Fiyero.

*Everyone raises their hand*

Fiyero: Elphaba, put your hand down.

Elphaba: I fell—

Glinda : From heaven?

Elphaba: No, I literally fell—

Glinda : In love with me the moment you saw me?

Elphaba: MY ARM IS BROKEN!

Glinda : Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

Elphaba: There are no friends when playing board games. I am here to win.

Glinda : You got a date yet Fiyero?

Fiyero: No...

Glinda : Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Elphaba: If I say I love you, will you say it back?

Glinda : Yes.

Elphaba: I love you.

Glinda : It back.

*Later*

Fiyero: Why is Elphaba crying face-down on the floor?

Fiyero: I feel like the world would be better if I'd never been born.

Glinda : Aw... that's not true.

Glinda : It'd be exactly the same.

Glinda : You're not important.

Elphaba: This is a very powerful artifact. You’d be messing with some forces we don’t fully understand.

Fiyero: That sounds like a dare to me.

Elphaba: Oh my god.

Elphaba: Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Fiyero!

Glinda : So Fiyero knows about this?

Elphaba, walking away: No, this is between me and me!

Elphaba: Jellyfish have survived for 600,000 years without brains…

Fiyero: A ray of hope for me!

Elphaba: I didn't drink that much last night.

Glinda : You were flirting with Fiyero.

Elphaba: So what? They're my partner.

Glinda : You asked if they were single.

Glinda : And then you cried when they said they weren't.

Elphaba: The next time I open up to someone, it'll be my autopsy.

Elphaba: If bees can be fish and boys can be girls, then why can't my dad love me?

Fiyero: I thought I was going to have to yell at you, but now I think I should hug you.

Glinda : Dammit, you ruin everything!

Elphaba: You're welcome.

Elphaba: Two years ago, I married my best friend.

Elphaba: Glinda is still mad about it, but me and Fiyero were drunk and thought it was funny.

Fiyero: Physically, yes, I could fight a bird, but emotionally? Imagine the toll!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

550 words / 25 / more ghost + gaz with free use medic reader

...

"Come here, medic."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Ain't a request." Ghost takes you firmly by the back of the neck before you can flee. He squeezes tight enough to make it clear he's not asking.

You feel his and Gaz’s eyes on you--on the bleeding laceration sliced through the outer cartilage of your ear and on the bruise forming on your cheekbone. You got tangled up briefly with an enemy tango and almost became a hostage. Or a statistic. But you're fine now.

"You're making a big deal over nothing,” you tell them.

Ghost pulls you forward and angles your face this way and that, trying to get a better look at you.

Gaz crosses his arms and stares you down. "Fine is when you burn yourself on a shell casing. You're not fine." He's barely holding back the edge in his voice. He can't pull rank on you--none of them can, technically--and he's supposed to be polite and respectful. But seeing that happen to you, and the adrenaline running through him, is making him thoughtless.

"He only grabbed me. Didn't hurt me."

Ghost hisses at you, his voice just as rough as the squeeze he has on the back of your neck. "What happened isn't important. What's important is that he thought he could touch you." His grip tightens. "You're in our squad. You're under our watch. No one messes with you."

Your gut twists. That's not fair--acting protective. It's part of their job to keep you safe, but they don't have to talk like this. You glance at Gaz for help, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t disagree with Ghost. You swallow the protests on the tip of your tongue and close your eyes, silently letting them examine you.

Ghost finds another few nicks and fresh bruises. You’re a medic—you’re not as armored as they are because it’s a goddamn war crime to kill medical personnel. "Jesus,” he mutters. “Bastard snuck up on us.”

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"For what?" Ghost snaps back. As usual, he's not expecting gratitude from you. You're supposed to take the insults, the berating, the harshness. And the protection, because you belong to them. At least, that's how they see it.

Gaz speaks up. "No one treats you like that again, alright?"

"It's not like I asked him if he needed a hostage."

"Doesn't matter," Gaz retorts. "If someone puts a finger on you like that again--"

Soap ducks back into the room, his rifle’s muzzle on his shoulder.

"Take care of it?" Ghost asks.

"Aye," Soap says. "Bastard won't be layin' his hands on anyone anymore. Not enough fingers left, for starters." He turns to you with a look of sympathy, but you recognize the wild edge of adrenaline still present. "You alright, hen?"

"I'm fine." You use the opportunity to worm yourself out of Ghost's grasp. "We going?"

"Affirmative," Gaz says. “We should move.”

Ghost turns away, forcing his attention back on the mission even though he carries himself with cold anger. Soap looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on your cheekbone a little longer this time. He seems about to say something, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes soften just a bit before he turns to follow Gaz and Ghost.

...

more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

[kyokutsu-sama]

oohhh!! yami and reader get into a argument and reader decides to sleep on the couch. yami can't sleep without her cuz he's a clingy baby so he begs her to come into bed

Omg, this one was such a cute request and fluff writing It's been my weakness lately❤️🤧

I'm in my ✨️Fluff era✨️

_____________________________

All the members of the black bulls, who that night, instead of supposedly being asleep, had their ears were wide open to hear the argument coming from the captain's room.

Everyone knew about your relationship and how you were always together and after of what their were hearing now, they got worried. Finral was even heartbroken to witness that, he didn't like seeing a couple argue at all, given that he was a romantic man...despite being a womanizer.

"Are these two going to break up today? No, it can't be. That would be terrible." He thought as his heart raced with anxiety

"But why are you being so stubborn?! Damn woman, you're a problem when you get mad!" The captain said, as he sat on the bed with a long sigh

"A problem? Well, in that case, I won't say anything else so as not to disturb you." You picked up the pillow and the blanket and he looked at you

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" He asked, standing up

"I'm going to sleep on the couch. Good night Yami Sukehiro!" You said goodbye to him with a hilarious smile, that quickly faded away when you turned your back on him and slammed the door

"YEAH, THAT'S RIGHT, YOU IDIOT! GOOD NIGHT TO YOU TOO!" He went into the hallway and shouted back but you just gave him the middle finger. "What an insensitive woman!" He grumbled

When the captain turned around, all the squad members were looking at him, wanting some explanation for what had happened but he was too angry to say anything at that moment.

"Where the fuck are you guys looking at? Go to the bed now!" He ordered and everyone ran to their respective bedroom

At first, overcome by pride, he just lay down on the bed to try to sleep but the truth is that the captain couldn't sleep a wink all night. He missed the warmth of his beloved in his arms, he loved sleeping hugging you, no matter if it was summer and you were dying of heat in his arms, he didn't move an inch while sleeping.

He went around and around but nothing seemed to ease that pain in his heart, he knew he had messed up, he just didn't know how to get to you to apologize. Yami sat on the bed and took a deep breath before getting up and going to the living room to get you.

He came across your figure falling asleep so well on the couch that he even hesitated to wake you up.

He knelt next to you and ran a hand over your face while you slept, you felt the touch of his hand and opened your eyes to see him right there by your side. You knew he had regretted it bitterly.

"What do you want?" You asked with a sleepy and low voice, still carrying some resentment from the argument, moments ago

"The bed is cold without you, you know?" He whispered. "I'm really sorry for being an jerk to you and saying those stupid things, you didn't deserve to hear that." His voice showed regret and a desire for reconciliation

"Yeah, Yami, you were really a jerk."

"I'm sorry, baby, please..." He placed his forehead against yours as he apologized as one of his hands held yours. "Do you forgive this jerk here?" He joked and you couldn't contain a small smile, even though you tried not to

"Fine, I'll do it, don't cry anymore." You teased, getting up from the couch, still half asleep."Besides, it was just a stupid argument."

"I promise it won't happen again."The captain hugged you for a moment and picked you up, lifting you from the couch."Let's go to sleep together because it's too cold to sleep without you." He said, carrying you to the bed

"What do you mean 'cold'? You're completely naked!" You laughed

"But without you, my heart gets cold and soon after, my body gets cold too, got it?" Yami explained and you rolled your eyes

"Yeah, I see...So it means that I'm your blanket, is that it?"

"Something like that." He placed you on the bed and lay down next to you, putting an arm around you and hugging you tightly

"You're being to clingy to me today, I didn't expect a big guy like you to be so cute." You joked

"How not? I'm a man with a good heart!" He replied but you laughed

"Yeah, yeah, it doesn't even seem like you threatens to kill your squad members, every single day."

"I'm just fulfilling my role as captain, any objections?"

"Negative, captain."

"Good," He placed a few kisses on your nape and neck, snuggling there. "But for now, I just want to sleep with you in my arms and I want you as close to me as possible." He pressed you against him

"Even more?! You're almost inside me!" You said, trying to move away from the grip of his huge arms

"Well...I'm not inside of you but if you want it, why not?" He teases and you push him away

"Yami, I'm going to the couch again!"

"Oh no, you won't, I won't let you go again." He wrapped his arms around you and reached your lips to give you a peck. "You belong with me, not on the couch."

"Alright, Mr. Big Guy, you win. I'll stay, but don't push your luck, you hear?"

"Always at my princess orders... and good night to you."

"For you too."

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

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 6 ] || [ Chapter 8 ]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT. oral (m!receiving). sex (protected). Unspecified age gap. John is a little selfish. Also: the boys aren't very happy. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: tried my best to keep the smut as gender neutral as possible!

Chapter 7: Getting Laid!!

Last night, you and John stumbled in the door of your flat with your lips pressed together.

You swore that was something only happened in romcoms, when the main character and her rival/best-friend/ex/a stranger met at the bar, got drunk, and somehow stumbled in the door and did it right on the kitchen table or whatever.

Nope.

Nope. It happened.

He had his arms wrapped around your torso, one snugly around your hip/lower waist, the other running up over your spine, with his hand sinking into your hair.

He tossed his foot back, knocking the door closed with a donkey kick as your hands struggled to untuck his stupid maroon button-up.

Instead of fumbling with the buttons, he ripped it off himself, a few of the buttons popping off and being sent flying around the room. He shrugged it off himself before guiding you over the living room sofa.

The flat was a mess, you had tried to tell him, because you weren’t expecting to bring him (or anyone, ever) back here. But that wasn’t a concern at that moment.

John fell on top of you on the couch, his hands already ripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere it wouldn’t get in the way (you’d come to find it behind your flatscreen tv).

His fingers kneaded and caressed your torso, squeezing at your waist as his mouth slide away from yours, over your jaw, and down to your neck, biting down onto it and sucking at the skin like it was his to mark.

Your hands found the back of his white crewneck and you pulled it off, momentarily getting him tangled in it, before you tossed it on the floor. 

You barely had a moment to feast your eyes on the sight of his bare torso before he was slipping your boots off and then dragging your jeans off your legs… Like a rabid animal, primal and hungry. 

You caught glimpses of his figure as he raised your leg and peppered kisses from your ankle, wet tongue jotting out to lick up your thigh toward your underwear.

He’s strong but soft, the owner of large pecks and a warm belly, both covered in thick, dark, coarse hair, that disappear in a happy trail under his jeans.

You pull his face toward yours, locking your lips into a deep kiss again, your tongues finding each other as he holds himself up over you. Pulling away from the kiss, you looked at him. “Flip over…” You whispered.

He didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing you around the waist again and hurling you up as he shifted to sit down on the couch, thighs spread to accommodate the growing bulge in his jeans.

You knelt between his legs, nimble fingers undoing his belt and immediately tugging the dark fabric away from his thick thighs. He groaned in relief as he watched you struggle with his boots for a moment before you succeeded in getting it all off him.

His hand palmed at his hardened cock, eyelids droopy as your hands ran up his legs, feeling the hair in them, and sometimes catching the little bumps and scars of past injuries, some of them discreet, some of them obvious and particularly gnarly. Some of them could rival some of his Simon’s.

You tugged down his boxers briefs, allowing his cock to spring free. It’s uncut, long and decently thick, and his hair is neatly trimmed. The head peeks out just a bit, showing how red and angry it is, the whole length throbbing, needy for your touch.

Your eyes locked onto his, spotting that it wasn’t just his cock that was needy. He looked at you like a starved man about to have a meal. Barely restrained, his jaw clenched, fists tightened shut, the muscles on his thighs taut with anticipation.

You ran your tongue over your palm before wrapping it around his cock, hearing him hiss and throw his head back as you started stroking it. Your other hand slowly, carefully, pulled back the hood of his cock before you wrapped your lips and tongue around it, gingerly sliding it further into your mouth.

You could’ve sworn John was going to have an aneurysm. “Fuckin’ hell… That’s it…” He grunted and huffed consecutively as he tensed up a bit, bucking his hips upward to meet your mouth.

“F-Fuck… That’s it…” He grumbled under his breath as he looked down at you. John had been with plenty of people, but something about the way you looked on your knees with his cock steadily slipping down your throat, got him in a way no one else did.

“Jesus… Fuckin’... Christ…” He dipped his head back as your tongue drew circles around him before you swallowed him deeper, breathing steadily through your nose so as to not choke.

“God… Been… B-Been a while since I got… Christ-” He grunted again, one hand shooting up to grip the back of your neck as he slowly rocked his cock into your mouth, beads of precum drooling over your tongue.

“C’mere.” He demanded as he pulled you back from his cock and up to your feet. He grabbed hold of his jeans from the floor, in search of his wallet and pulled out a whole sheet of condoms which was folded neatly inside, He stuck them between his lips before he stood.

Grabbing hold of you, he walked you across your flat, making use of the sitting room lights to navigate the hall into the bedroom, and dropped you onto your bed. He tossed the condoms aside and his lips crashed into yours, lips parted so that your tongues found each other.

His hands grabbed hold of your underwear and tugged it off, sending it flying across the room while he grabbed hold of the condoms and ripped off one, rough fingers search struggling to open the foil, before he finally succeeded and slipped it on.

“You good?” He checked on you, eyes locked on yours as he slotted himself between your legs, kneeling in front of you and adjusting you to fit him. One leg wrapped around his waist, the other over the bend of his elbow to keep you spread open for him.

“Yeah.” You replied, immediately feeling him rub the leaking head of his cock against your entrance, allowing the lube of the condom to lubricate you just a bit.

It had been ages since you had last gotten laid, a miserable consequence of your ex-boyfriend, Ethan, and one of the main reasons you had broken up. Sex with him, much like your relationship, was dead and unfulfilling.

You felt John push his way inside, slotting himself in the warmth and snugness of your body as you squealed, your head falling back onto the bed. He grunted some incoherent praise, or what you assume was praise, his fingers digging into the extra fat on your legs to keep him steady enough.

He leaned over you, one closed fist on either side of your head, curling you onto yourself and allowing him easier access to thrust into you. Slow, torturously slowly, his cock stretching you and forcing you to accomodate him.

“Fuckin’ hell… So fuckin’ good…” He groaned, eyes closing and mouth falling open as he threw his hips down against yours. It was slow and considerate, but the way he huffed and grunted told you it was already too much for him.

But John was a man of focus. He uncurled his fists in order to grip your bed covers and squeeze them tight as his hips bounced off yours, his weeping girth always burying itself to the hilt before he pulled back again, making sure to bottom out every time.

You whimpered and moaned, eyes screwed closed and a shiver running down your spine every time the bouncy cock plunged into you, the upward tilt of it making sure to drag dangerously slowly across the one spot in your body that caused your mind to go blank, stars prickling in the corners of your eyes.

“F-Fuck… John…” You sighed as he kept the torturously slow pace, somehow driving you crazy just as much as he would while pounding you into oblivion.

“Yeah… that’s it. Moan my name, love.” He ordered as he leaned closer.

“J-John…” You cried out softly as his hips stuttered lightly, causing him to bury himself deep twice in a row.

“I know, darling. I know.” He grumbled. “You haven’t gotten properly shagged in a while, have you?” He taunted a bit. “Haven’t either, sweet thing…” He added.

His hands grabbed your jaw on either side, his thumbs hooked onto your cheeks, the remaining fingers slipping under and around your ears, nails digging lightly into your scalp.

“I’ll make sure to make it last as long as possible, hm?” He added as he kissed at your lips, sucking your bottom lip between his lightly.

-

John was in a much better mood when he sat down for breakfast at the mess hall with Ghost, Gaz and Soap. He actually greeted them with a ‘Good morning’, his tray was piled high with food and his hair was wet from a recent shower.

The other three were looking at him with raised brows and intrigued glances, even if Ghost was trying to be discreet about them. They could read between the lines to know he had gotten lucky with you the night before, so they didn’t need to ask questions they knew the answers to.

Instead, they exchanged glances and kept eating their breakfasts… All except for Simon, who was simply drinkin a cup of breakfast tea.

“I don’t think it’s fair.” Soap ended up saying as Price was halfway through shoveling a hash brown into his mouth.

“What isn’t, Soap?” Price asked, eyes narrowed in confusion, and brows scrunched.

“We all matched ‘em on Tinder and didn’t get more than a ‘I’ll think about meetin’ up with you’.” The younger sergeant explained halfway through chewing his bite of sausage. “You meet with ‘em, get a shag… And we did all the work for it.” He added. “But when it comes to us ourselves, they don’t want us.” He complained.

“What are we gonna do?” Gaz complained. “Maybe they just like older men…” He said with a shrug. “Sucks but there’s other people out there.” He adds while drinking his orange juice.

“Are you seriously going to call dibs on the fact you saw ‘em before Price?” Ghost said in surprise.

“I’m just saying!” Soap grunted and shoveled some more scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Learn to take rejection with class, MacTavish. It’s going to happen to you more and more often as you get older.” Ghost quipped.

“Awa' an' bile yer heid!” Soap scoffed and flipped the middle finger at Ghost.

Meanwhile, the Captain was giving them all a look, while staying silent, seeming amused by their antics and a little by their jealousy. He could tell that despite the fact Gaz and Ghost had disagreed with Soap, their eyebrows were also furrowed in contemplation.

So, he simply turned off to the side and drank from his own tea with a smug smirk on his lips.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago

[tojisun]

!! suggestive (and mini smut) - minors dni; bimbo (fem)!reader has simon wrapped around her pinky (we luv to see it!); the squad’s here too; hinted age difference (30s v. 20s)

when they ask him where you two met, simon always tries his best to tamp down the smile threatening to grace his lips before clearing his throat and answering, "in the ER."

the questions that follow are always repetitive: 'what, why?', 'what happened?', 'how did things even go from there?' the last one is often paraphrased into some other versions, but the sentiment remains – people always get surprised, reduced into awkward stumbling because how could you even segue into a romantic relationship from having met in the ER?

well, simon thinks, it's actually quite fucking simple.

it was three in the morning and simon was in the lobby, waiting to be called in, when he saw you walk in: you clutched your broken heeled shoes in your hands, your beautiful legs were bearing injuries and cuts, and your hair was a wild mess. then, you ambled towards a baffled triage nurse.

"hi!" simon recalls your melodic voice echo, sounding too hyper even when you looked all banged up. "can i use y'r restroom? we got kicked outta the club."

simon was so focused on you that he didn't even notice the pack of girls following behind you, all of them looking just as haggard and bruised up. one of your friends was actually worryingly injured, so it’s no shock when the nurse rushed towards her, slightly panicked and confused before steering your friend away, leaving you there in the lobby.

then, you turned around, frowning at having been ignored, and it gave simon the best vantage point of finally seeing your face. he swears his heart stuttered in his chest, his lungs constricting, because holy shit, you are beautiful.

"then the rest is history," simon ends, pulling you close to him. any closer and you would have ended on his lap – something he preferred, anyway – but johnny continues to stare at the two of you with a slack jaw, his eyes almost bulging out in confusion so simon tries to keep it civil.

you giggle, and simon watches as the rest of the squad snap their eyes on you, as though expecting you to grace them with a better explanation. but simon knows that you probably don't even know what's going on, having been busy tapping away on your phone, your acrylics making distinct clacks as they hit the screen.

"i love the history channel," you singsong, batting your eyelashes as you give them a dimpled smile. "simmy-" simon almost coos at the nickname you gave him, "and i looove watching the penguins."

simon presses a kiss on the top of your head, ignoring the bewildered looks his squad is shooting him.

"that's the 'animal planet', love. not the history channel," simon corrects gently, rubbing his hand down your side.

"oh!" you say, unbothered by your mistake. "okay!"

and that was that.

"what the fuck," simon hears johnny wheeze out only to up making choking noises when kyle elbows him. simon ignores them, choosing to watch as you turn back to your phone, mass-retweeting a series of post made by the magazine catalogue that you've been following.

cute.

---------

"fuck," simon hisses, feeling the sharp edge of the kitchen knife slicing through the first layer of his skin. he watches the blood bead, trickling down his finger, and simon wipes it before it can stain the pristine green – "sage!" you tutted to him once – countertops.

"si?" you ask, padding towards the kitchen at the clamour. he feels you press yourself to his side, your perky tits nuzzling his robust muscles. "what's goin- y'r bleeding!"

he grunts, frowning at himself for having made you worry. he moves to reassure you that he's okay, but you're already tugging him out of the kitchen, your smaller hand wrapped around his thicker wrist.

god, he loves seeing the size difference.

you're wearing his military shirt, the material sliding down your body beautifully, before pooling just above your perky ass. simon unabashedly stares at the way your ass jiggles – hidden underneath the tiniest booty shorts he knows you own – his throat bone dry and his sweats filling up all of a sudden.

he barely realizes that you two are in the bathroom until you're steering him towards the edge of the bathtub before twisting to fish the emergency kit from the floor cabinets. simon almost groans at the perfect shape that your ass makes when you bend over, feeling himself throb with raging desire.

you pull out a pink emergency kit and skitter towards him again, slotting yourself between his spread legs. simon raises his hand – the uninjured one – to grasp at your waist, sliding it down to your hips, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"it's nothin' fatal, sweet'art," simon mumbles, thumbing your hipbone as he tries to comfort you.

you're still pouting at him when you say, "sure, i guess. but lemme help you?"

and who is simon to say no to that?

"of course, love."

he lets out a quiet chuckle when you press your glossed lips on his forehead, unbothered even when your lips leave a sticky stamp on his skin.

he watches you disinfect his wound with a strawberry-scented sanitizer before wrapping a pink adhesive bandage around it. his worries about having his open wound disinfected by a glittery sanitizer fade away when you picked his hand up to place a kiss on his now-bandaged finger.

glitter-induced infections no longer matter. not when simon's getting nursed to full health by such a pretty girl.

he licks the back of his teeth, clenching his jaw, and thinks, you deserve a reward, don't you, sweetness?

---------

johnny blanches when he sees the bandage around simon's finger. "LT, what in fuck's name is that?"

his loud voice snags the attention of garrick and their captain who ambled their way towards him upon hearing the commotion. garrick chokes on nothing when he sees the pink bandage that simon's sporting.

"bandage," simon replies, pride heavy in his voice. "from my girl."

johnny whirls and shoots a pointed look towards kyle and john. kyle is the one who breaks the silence.

"…are they safe for use?"

"what's the cat even bandaging?" johnny adds.

simon huffs, flicking his finger up to give the squad a better view. "firstly, this is 'hello kitty'. secondly, you questionin' my girl’s ability to care for me?"

john coughs, looking away, kyle arches a brow at him like the answer should be obvious, and johnny gulps loudly, before mumbling, "...yes."

simon sniffs, unable to blame them. "yeah, well, don't."

the squad is still quiet. waiting.

simon finally gives in and replies, "i checked. they're safe for use."

he rolls his eyes at their dramatic sigh.

"that's good to hear," john says before clapping his hands together once, urging them to disperse.

simon grumbles all the way back to his room.

---------

simon loves his pretty, dumb girlfriend to death.

he loves seeing you dolled up – skimpy dresses made of silk material paired with heels that could honestly stab someone to death. he also loves seeing you in nothing but his ratty jumpers – loose black sweaters stopping just after your crotch and the sleeves falling past your fingers.

but nothing tops seeing you naked and crying for him.

nothing could ever top this – your legs folded close to your chest, your ankles hooked on his shoulders, your pretty make up running as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes and flood your cheeks.

he thrusts his fingers in your cunt again, breathless when it punches out another slick gush of your squirt, drenching you two even more. you squeal, body locking, your hips lifting from the bed. simon has to press down on your belly to keep you stable.

"siii!" you cry out, thrashing on his hold, but simon just kisses your leg as he continues to fuck his fingers in you.

"shh," simon murmurs, feeling so choked up at the sight you make. "one more for me, yeah?"

you moan out a reply, a garbled mixture of 'yes' and his name, before wrapping your hands around his arms, your acrylics digging into his skin. simon doesn't even register the pain, still too caught up at fingering you to feel the way you're clawing him.

still too caught up at how perfect you are for him.

(later, when he checks the mirror and sees the angry red welts, simon purrs at the sight of them. because simon loves being marked by you, doesn't matter how, as long as he has bearings of your pleasure. pleasure he gave you.)

---------

simon receives a video message from you. it’s nothing long or conspicuous, but simon still chokes when he finally gets to watch it.

because in the video, you’re wearing simon’s old varsity shirt on top of your university cheer uniform.

“look!” you chirp, twirling for him. “found this in the closet!”

simon slams his captain’s door open and demands a vacation leave.

---------

the lieutenant has a new tattoo and johnny doesn't know what the actual shit it's supposed to be.

it looks like a wriggly blob of a... cloud? a cotton ball? candy floss?

it was still a somewhat fresh tattoo so simon never truly shows it off – johnny doesn't even know if it's worthy of being shown off – until one night at a bar, simon rolls up the sleeves of his jumper and leans to the squad to point at the blob.

"lookit," he slurs, tipsy and just a touch giddy.

finally, johnny cheers to himself before reaching forward to poke just beside the scribble.

"what's it?"

"mittens," their lieutenant croons, smiling down at his skin like a weirdo.

johnny has seen enough mittens to know that whatever that fucking squiggle is isn't mittens.

"uhm," kyle says, thankfully thinking along the same lines as johnny. "is it?"

"yeah," simon says wistfully, drunken in a lovesick way. "s'my girl's cat. she drew it f'r me."

oh. well, fuck. now that's just too cute.

wait.

"that's a drawing of a cat?" johnny rasps out, choking on his spit before turning to study the tattoo again.

it's still a fucking blob.

christ.

[soleilapproves]

Ex bf Price who was your first and knows everything about your body sees you with your new boyfriend for the first time and can’t help but get jealous MDNI

Note: female reader

NSFW content - mentions of sex and sexual experiences. No direct smut

Masterlist

Price hated weddings. The unnecessary crying, large centerpieces, fancy food that tasted like nothing but cream and butter, and dancing. He hated all of it.

However, if you asked him about his opinions on weddings five months ago, he would’ve gone on and on about how he loves weddings.

Why the change of opinion? Because you broke up with him. He had been with a lot of women before but only you had managed to create large tremors in his heart and mind.

He didn’t show it but he was a complete mess after breaking up. Had a sour attitude, picked a fight with anyone within a six foot radius, and drank like a sailor. It only took him five months to finally stop associating your favorite things with you. Five months of pure torture is what the 141 called it.

The five months where hell ascended to the surface.

And now the squad was afraid it would happen again. After the break up, you happened to get very friendly with Kyle. The two of you kept close contact throughout so he naturally invited you to his wedding. What he wasn’t expecting was for your current boyfriend to be in the army as well. Just not as well known.

Price was going to lose his mind.

“I’m a grown man. Quit tryin’ to distract me. I know she’s here with someone.” The commander scoffed as Simon and Soap tried their best to hide you and your boyfriend from his view.

Of course, he knew you were with someone. He had eyes and ears everywhere including your current boyfriend’s team. He knew the bugger had quite the history with women and specifically went after you because you had little experience. Lucky for the captain, your boyfriend didn’t know that he was your ex.

Price couldn’t peel his eyes away from you from the beginning of the ceremony till dinner time. You look ravishing in your outfit. He remembered how you would always ask him to zip your dresses up and you both would end up arriving late to events because he would do the opposite.

He noticed how you wore the earrings he got you, giving him hope that somewhere in your heart you still wanted to be with him.

After the ceremony, the women gathered in their own separate area, sitting with the bride and asking her about the wedding and taking a few candid photos. The men had mostly dispersed to the bar or outside the wedding hall for a smoke break. The entirety of the 141 squad left with Kyle for a smoke, probably to enjoy his last few moments before he left for his honeymoon. But Price didn’t like corny goodbyes so he stayed behind.

He sipped his whiskey, reminiscing about his own dreams of getting married until he heard boisterous laughing coming from a group approaching his side of the bar.

It was your ex. Price knew his name but preferred to call him Dick when he thought of him. He chose his last name as Head. He could overhear Dick talk about his new girlfriend and Price immediately directed all his attention towards them. Discreetly of course. He was still facing the bartender so it seemed like he was uninterested.

“I’m telling you, mate, she is so easy to please. All I need to do fuck her and she comes. It’s fucking insane.” Dick bragged as he took a swig of his beer. Price had a small smile on his face. He knew some lousy fucking could never get you off.

“I know you didn’t come last night. Don’t lie to me.” Price said as he cuddled with you on your shared bed. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to tell you.” You sheepishly replied. “Next time you don’t feel satisfied, I want you to tell me.” He pulled away and straddled you. “Now let me make it up to you the right way, yeah?” He said as he lifted your tank top and began kissing down your abdomen.

“She doesn’t even beg me to do anything. I can do whatever I want. It’s heaven.” Price wanted to laugh out loud. You? Not saying what you wanted? Sounds like Dick was sleeping with a total stranger.

“John, please, I need you in me. I can’t take any more of this teasing.” You groaned against his neck. Price chose to ignore you and kept rubbing his fingers around your entrance. “Come on, darling, you can be a little patient.” You huffed in anger and rolled on top of him. “Either you fuck me like I asked or I’ll ride you so hard you’ll forget your name.” You snapped. Price smiled knowing that neither of you were going to wake up early the next day.

“She also hates all that aftercare shit which is good because I’m fucking beat after all that work.” This guys was a ball of grease. Price wondered how you met him but chose to find out the answer later.

You were laying on Price’s chest after a particularly rough session. His hand played with your hair as your eyelids grew heavy. You had this habit of going non verbal after sex so you could recover your mental energy as well. Price understood and respected that so he’d hold you as you regained your strength. It was your own little heaven with him. Sometimes he’d bring you warm tea and snacks to rejuvenate, other times he’d lightly massage your shoulders as you’d sleep on top of him.

It was confirmed- you did not give a fuck about Dick and he was a rebound. Price laughed loudly and all the men in the group beside him turned. He got off the bar stool and walked to Dick. He placed his hand on your boyfriend’s shoulder and held it with a firm grip.

“Hope you get the message.” He said before sarcastically chuckling and walking away.

“The fuck is he on about?” He heard Dick murmur while he headed to where you were sitting with the women.

You seem surprised to see him but walked to a corner away from the wedding hall.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close enough to smell the whiskey in his breath. “I believe you and I need to have a conversation.”

-•-

Didn’t like Price’s character when I first learned about him and look at me now. Maybe I’ll write a part 2, idk I like surprising people.