#this woman is pointing a gun at him and he's just :|

[d-emeter]

The world has gone to hell, but you've found your own paradise (or: apocalypse au with task force 141) — plus-size!fem!reader x poly!141

CW: zombie apocalypse (but no real zombies mentioned lol), allusion to smut but doesn't actually happen yet, soap being a horny bastard, implied age-gap?

HEAVILY based on the bill and frank storyline from the last of us but can be read as a generic zombie apocalypse so no worries if you haven't seen/played tlou! Also different format? Is this something?

Captain John Price who, over the years, has become a bit of a survivalist nut — a prepper, if you will.

Sure, his sergeants make fun of him for it sometimes, but he more than anyone knows the shit that plays behind the scenes, the things governments keep hidden, the threats that loom every damn day — so he'd rather be safe than sorry when the world inevitably goes to shit. He's almost smug about it when it does (he hadn't calculated in the zombie aspect of it all, but still)

Unfortunately for him, however, he and the rest of 141 are deployed when outbreak day comes around. More and more cities are bombed by the hour, the population dwindling by the second, and in the week that follows he and the boys are amongst those assigned to evacuate the smaller towns and villages and escort the citizens to quarantine zones — that is, until the QZ's are full and they're under direct order to execute those that didn't make it in.

Now, Price's moral compass has been skewed for some time now. He's done some stuff during his years serving — man or woman, guilty or innocent, it hadn't mattered to him then. It doesn't now, either.

What does him in is the tear that rolls down Soap's cheek when Price shoots the mother and child his sergeant couldn't bring himself to ("Aren't these the people we're 'posed tae protect, cap?")

He convinces his task force to desert that very night (they'd been hesitant, but in the end, they'd follow their captain to hell and back). They gather as many weapons, ammo and MRE's as they can get away with without being caught, and they're off into the night.

Price brings them to his home — a big, old house inherited from his grandparents somewhere in a small, sleepy village. He had spent the better part of his time on leave preparing the house to be self-sufficient should the need arise: generators on solar and wind power, water filters, a chicken coop and a garden set up in the backyard (that, and enough weapons to supply a small army in the garage)

They wait until this village gets evacuated, too, so they can claim it for themselves before raiders come around. They fence off a section of the town, set up traps and cameras, anything to ensure no unwanted visitors can enter, infected or not.

It's their own form of paradise, in a way. (the house has enough bedrooms to give them all their own — they end up in eachother's more often than not)

One day, you fall into their lives — literally. You've fallen into one of their traps, a literal hidden hole in the ground, and within a few minutes you hear the creak of a gate, multiple sets of feet and the unmistakable sound of a gun being loaded ("I'm not infected!" You yell from your hole before they can lay eyes on you, certain they'd shoot you on sight if you didn't)

The first thing you see is the barrel of the gun leering over the edge, before you see its owner — a man with a beard and the most intense eyes you've ever seen. He keeps his gun pointed at you while he makes you recite the alphabet, forwards then backwards, all with your hands held before you to ensure you weren't twitching. You pass his test, it seems, and a ladder is lowered into the hole.

Once you're back on the surface, you see it's not just the man with the beard — there's four of them in total, each looking more terrifying than the last, all muscle and bulk and having the ability to snap you like a twig should they feel the need. There are still guns pointed at you as you explain your situation and simultaneously beg for your life — you were with a group travelling to the nearest QZ, you're the only one left now ("Please, I didn't mean- Please don't hurt me, I'll be out of your hair before you know it — I won't tell anyone about this place! I haven't eaten in three days-")

John and Simon were hesitant at first, but their sergeants manage to convince them to let you inside, offer you some food before sending you on your way again (Soap had been frothing at the mouth a little the moment he had laid eyes on you — sure, they had kept eachother... satisfied, but "Cap, when's the last time any o' us felt the touch o' a lass? 'N such a pretty one at that..." and Price knows he can't deny them when Gaz leans over to whisper how prettily you had begged for your safety, surely it'd do no harm?)

Your eyes widen a little when the scary man with the beard tells you to come with them — your hunger ends up winning the battle with your brain as it tries to convince you that following four big male strangers into their fenced home is not a good plan.

You expected a dented can of beans and maybe a cup of water, so you're definitely more than a little surprised when they usher you into a bedroom with an ensuite, telling you to go take a shower (Soap wanted to follow you into the bathroom, mumbling something about wanting to double check for any bite marks. Ghost had to hold him back by his shirt)

You nearly cry when you feel the stream of hot water on your skin, and feel like you're in some sort of fever dream when you see the clean clothes laid out on the bed for you — granted, they're men's clothes, but anything is better than the rags you had on before.

You start to wonder if maybe you died and are in some sort of weird state between worlds when you come back downstairs to a table that's fully decked out and beautifully presented plates of food.

All of them turn to you immediately and you have to do your best not to falter under their stares (you don't notice the flustered little cough Price lets out at the sight of such a pretty creature in his shirt — god, maybe Johnny was right, it had been a while since he's had a woman, and such a young, plush one at that)

One of them — the one with the darker skin and the prettiest face you've seen in months — is the first to jump into action, hand on your lower back as he ushers you into a chair.

You're convinced you're dead when you bring the first bite to your lips — God, that's good. (Johnny nearly chokes on his food at the small moan you let out. Simon remains stoic, but damn him if he didn't feel a spark of heat in his gut at the sound)

The men start introducing themselves while you're shoveling food into your mouth. The man with the beard — John, you now know — explains that they're all ex-military. Through bites of food, you do your best to introduce yourself as well. You tell them your story, they tell you theirs (well, Johnny and Gaz do, mainly. The one called Simon still hasn't really said a word to you, and you can tell John is a little paranoid about sharing too much information with a stranger)

As the night progresses, there's a shift in the air. Kyle leans in a little too close while brushing a crumb away from your lip, and John lingers behind you a little too long as he refills your glass (you pretend not to notice the sound of his deep inhale as he leans over you).

John insists you don't have to help with the dishes, so you wander into the living room and are immediately intrigued by the piano standing there. Johnny joins you on the bench, thigh pressed against yours as you play with the keys. Simon — or 'Ghost', as you noticed the others called him sometimes — leans over you from behind, and your breathing nearly stops (Simon knows he's too close, but so what if he wants you to accidentally brush against his abdomen?)

Once it's all said and done, you try not to let your disappointment show as you prepare to leave. Much to your surprise, it's Simon that grunts something to you, speaking the first words he's said that night. ("Stay. F'r the night. 'S not safe out there.")

John keeps a heavy hand on your shoulder as he leads you back to the bedroom you were in earlier. It's his, he tells you, but he can stay with one of the others. ("Are you- Are you sure? I can take a couch, or-" "'M sure, love, good night's sleep 'll do you good. Give me a yell if y'need somethin', yeah?")

With that, he leaves you to it, shutting the door behind him. Fuck, that bed does look inviting, and you can almost hear your vertebrae begging for a soft mattress. As you get ready for bed, a thought enters your mind. It had... been a while.

Is what you're about to do a stupid decision? Maybe, but you figured if these men had wanted to hurt you they would've done it already, and you'd be lying if you said that all their touches and affection weren't having an effect on your panties.

You yell out their names from the room, and the four of them are there within a second, though they all falter at the door as they take in the sight before them — you're sitting in the bed, covers pulled up so the only thing visible are your bare shoulders and arms, and it's immediately clear what your intentions are.

Soap, once again, has to be held back by the scruff to prevent him from pouncing on you immediately. John, instead, is the first one to actually enter the room, sitting down on the bed and carefully bringing his hand to caress your cheek while asking if you're sure about this (he'd rather not admit the way he shuddered a bit when he made contact with the soft skin of your face)

Your answer is immediate, you've made up your mind — on one condition ("I'm not... a whore, or anything. I don't sleep with people for food or shelter or anything, just- if we're doing this... I'm staying. For a while.")

Simon nearly laughs at this — funny how you think they would have let you leave otherwise.

[hijinxinprogress]

Does the JL know that YJ has just casually been beefing with darkseid??

imagine there’s a all hands on deck battle against darkseid and everyone is there but darkseid points out the nearest yj member (it’s probably Bart) like ‘you!!! You managed to escape with your lives last time but this meeting will be our last’ and for a split second Clark’s so fucking confused bc we haven’t fought in years wtf are you talking about then he hears ‘oh shit, look it’s Doug’ and everyone turns to see Bart nudging Kon going ‘he’s talking to you…damn he must still be mad about the coal’ and kons shoving him back bc ‘you were the one fucking around with his coal, you fucking walnut’ while Cassie’s being scruffed by wonder woman bc they’re trying to avoid being around when the jl finds out and tims having a very intense silent conversation lecture about why tf there’s at least half a dozen yj mission reports that mention an assailant named ‘Doug’ 

then Constantine shows up with Greta and everyone (including darkseid) starts yelling and if you don’t know her Greta seems like the one with the ownership of the braincell in yj (she is not but I guess she looks like it from a distance if you squint) which goes one of two ways:

retired-civilian!greta is giggling and waving excitedly to each member of yj along with hal before she practically tackles each of them in a tight hug while the titans, jl, & jl: dark lose their collective shit bc Constantine brought a tiny civilian dressed in pastel floral prints from head to toe into an active battle with fucking darkseid, a civilian who doesn’t register as a threat in any capacity until she makes eye contact with darkseid and gives him the most disgusted look imaginable “Doug… you look…well.” and then like three jl members have to stop her from leaping at darkseid while Hal’s like ‘no! No no, bad Greta! We don’t fight supervillains with…what is that?? I really fucking hope that’s not a gun…Is-is that fucking silly string?! Greta no we don’t silly string supervillains! We’ve talked about this!’

or

never-retired!/recently-out-of-retirement!greta who does the same thing but when she notices darkseid she rocks his shit in eight seconds flat and starts muttering about ‘that fucking Doug, always ruining my goddamn day’ and Hal is the first one to recover from the shock/confusion but only to tell Greta she’s grounded which gets another irritated ‘fucking doug!’ while Wally and Barry are losing it at Mach 6 while Bart tries to explain himself also at Mach 6, Cassie manages to catch Wally’s exasperated ‘where the fuck did you get Doug from?!’ And responds with ‘Apokolips’ in a tone that means they’re questioning his intelligence which leads to more screaming bc ‘so you knew who he was?? Why didn’t you come to us??’ and they all back up Kon when he claims they told Lex bc that means they have at least 3 hours of freedom while Lex is getting yelled at by the jl (and honestly every cape over 24)

[plumspider]

Okay i saw this on TikTok and omg how can you interpret a character so badly, how can you watch this show and think of Mickey as some ‘angry gay dude’ who distracts everyone from Ian’s actual storyline.

He has such an insane backstory and is such a deep character who goes through so much development and even though he doesn’t have much screen time compared to everyone else his story still matters so much and he totally helps Ian so much.

He is SUCH a complex character and idk how people can’t see that:

He had a father who beat the shit out of him his whole life and called him a pussy for having feelings and then tried to kill him because he was gay - all of which MASSIVELY affected the rest of his life because he struggled to open up to people and communicate his feelings and struggled to deal with his anger issues and the repercussions from his previous life and beliefs that were forced on him by his dad.

The same father got a hooker to rape him at gun point to “fuck the faggot out of him” after finding him with his boyfriend and pistol whipping them.

He ended up with a kid conceived through rape (not her fault either) that he had to care and help provide for while also caring for his boyfriend who just got diagnosed with bipolar and was going through all sorts of shit at 17/18 years old.

He was forced into marrying a woman - the same woman who was made to rape him and is the mother to his child, who he doesn’t like being around and for a good reason (who would want to have to see the face of the person who did that to you/was in that situation with you every day - even if it wasn’t her fault).

He wasn’t in control of his own life because his dad would KILL him if he let himself be gay and he knew that.

His dad beat him to the point where he had such bad internalised homophobia that he’d beat up other people for being gay (knowing that that’s what would happen to him if he ever came out).

His mum left him (or died or whatever we think happened to her) and his siblings with a RASICT, HOMPHOBIC, PEDO (those scenes with Mandy and Debbie), RAPIST, SEXIST and all the other -ists dad.

His dad got put (back) in jail for breaking his parole (he was out for 4 hours) trying to kill Mickey and Ian after Mick came out to him in The Alibi.

Within one and a bit seasons (when he was only around 18 years old) he went from sneaking around with his boyfriend who he pretended not to like because if he did he’d be gay and that’s wrong, to being forced into a marriage with a woman and a child which he didn’t want or consent to and got beat the shit out of for coming out, living and supporting his wife, child and his bf who was either manic or depressed or in the psych ward while HIS DAD was in jail FOR TRYING TO KILL HIM.

Feel free to add to my rant proving that Mickey is so insanely complex and amazing.

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula - 1

simon riley x oc

'All is fair in Love and War'

She sensed something was wrong from the second she woke up. She felt dizzy and lightheaded from the alcohol of the night before, it was still early. She had to go to base for a checkup on a patient, nothing major, but she offered the young Sargent a small meeting even if it was a Saturday. She had gone to bed happy, smiling into her pillow like a fool. It was his presence, just being in the same room as him did something to her. She thought about it all night, his arm nearly touching hers while sitting at the table, the was he would bend towards her, hunching his back to talk to her closely like his words were only meant for her. He was protective, or possessive, driving her home and making sure she got inside her flat. He even pet the dog, was incredibly excited to see him. He'd make a great dad for Jinx…

She thought about what could have happened if she asked him to stay. Maybe she would have offered him a gin and tonic, he would have suggested to drink tea. They had too much already. Maybe they would have made out on the couch. She imagined him sitting in her small apartment, Jinx asleep in his dog bed (moved to the bathroom for the occasion), her legs straddling his hips. She imagined removing his mask with her teeth, covering the scars on his face with sweet kisses, she wondered how he tasted, of beer probably. She imagined him gentle, firm grip on her ass, hands caressing her back. Maybe he was a good kisser, maybe she was going to be the first woman he ever kissed. She imagined him on top of her, while settling down in her bed, she imagined his body between her and the ceiling. He was tall, large and bulky and yet, she imagined him so gentle and delicate. She would have guided his hand between her thighs.

She fell asleep flustered and with her legs pressed together.

The base was quiet, the only noise being the clicking of her boots on the floor. She was early for her appointment, that's what gave her time to realise what was going on. She felt like the few soldiers she passed were looking at her. So strange, she was almost nervous, and for what? A simple chat with a patient? Her heart was beating faster than usual. It was really no surprise there were 4 people waiting for her in front of her office. They know. She turned the corner, she saw them and immediately turned and sprinted in the opposite direction. Her heart jumped in her chest, her legs moving quick without even realising. She heard them shout her name, she was already down the emergency stairs. They found out. It's done, it's done, I'm done. Her bag was nearly flying off her shoulder, she sprinted down the stair, they were following her, telling her to stop. Do they have guns, are they gonna kill me? She knew she had parked just opposite the emergency exit, she always parked there… just in case. She had never thought that day would come. So stupid, she had made a terrible mistake the night before, she knew this was gonna happen...

She got out the emergency door, which flew open, hitting the wall with a loud clang. She was stopped by the muzzle of a gun aimed directly at her forehead. She raised her arms, a small step backwards. Fuck.

She didn't scream, she didn't make a sound.

When the gun was lowered, Simon stood in front of her, hard grip on his weapon.

'Isn't this enough?' Simon turned towards her, twisting his chair. She gripped the counter's edge, her knuckles turned white. 'It's not enough? What more do you want?' He went on. She pressed her lips in a thin line. He really didn't understand her point, nor did he try for that matter. 'It's fine Simon, I'm going without you.'

'The hell you're not'.

He was standing up at this point, she turned her body in his direction. He was scared. She crossed her arms and let out a sarcastic laugh, 'Oh, am I not allowed, Lieutenant?'

'No, it's dangerous, we're not going.'

She blinked a few times, then turned back to the sink and resumed washing the dishes. 'I said I am. You can stay here if you want.'

'Eva, I said n-'

'Don't bother.'

They escorted her in an interrogation room. She felt like crying, she felt stupid and naive. Such a stupid mistake, she was drunk, she didn't think... She kept quiet, her jaw tense, fists clenched. It was a defeat really, and Simon… He must have had that briefing that morning, he… Seeing him pointing his gun at her face made her insides turn, Gaz and Soap stood behind him, same angry, disappointed expression on their faces. Not for the danger itself, she was not afraid she was going to get killed. Just… him, his look, his mask. She knew by betraying him like that, the guy she came to knowing over the past two months was going to be gone forever.

It took Simon a good 30 seconds to have her face the wall and put her hands behind her back, but he did it eventually. Aiming a gun at her wasn't on this year's bingo card. It brought him back to reality really, he went back to being Ghost. He really had thought life was giving him something good for once, you know, he thought things were going to be different. And he would learn to be normal, a normal guy with a girlfriend or some shit, but no. Turns out sweet angel Alba, or better, Eva, is a serial killer immigrated from Italy to America to ruin his life. Eva, the same person he spent Christmas with, the same person who danced the fucking nutcracker Snow Queen bullshit, was a terrorist. Her in her stupid, angelic ballet tutu. He had to take her for what she really was, terrorist. Murderer. Aiming his gun at her forehead was scary. He had never seen his hand shake, and he saw his fingers trembling a little, on the trigger. She, however, she wasn't scared. And it was infuriating, he wanted her scared. Be sorry for what you did, no? No, she wasn't sorry. She looked at him surprised, she looked at the gun, she waited for him to act, patiently. He saw it in her eyes, she wasn't scared cause she knew it was going to happen, like she had rehearsed what she was going to do when, or if, they found out. That was when he felt the most disconnected from her. Thinking about the fact she knew all along, she had planned her escape in case they found her, it made his blood boil. It made him furious.

'I just feel like you don't appreciate what I'm giving you'

She hated that part of herself, but she was conscious she always raised her voice when she was annoyed. The Italian in her. Also, her accent was much more heavy and thick on her tongue. She roller the r, clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth when pronouncing a t.

'How can you say that?' She screamed, her hands on her hips.

'Non urlare', he replied in perfect Italian. He hated when she raised her voice. Reminded him of his childhood. She was loud when she was happy and chatty or mad about her coworkers, but never directing it towards him. When she did he would stay silent until she was finished. She was passionate about everything, even their fights. And the Italian, well, he learned by living with her. He had to. She was tired of English, sometimes she didn't feel like trying. He learned by the way she spoke to Salvo and her sister, he learned vocabulary. She called him 'amore', 'amore mio', 'cuore'. And he liked it better than any other pet name he had ever heard, or tried to use. He never used 'sweetheart' or 'baby' ever again. He learned a few things, cause it made her smile when he spoke it with his thick Mancunian accent. It made her smile that he was trying, and he got good at it. His accent sounded natural, he switched from English to Italian like a professional.

'Non urlare.' Don't yell.

'Spiegami.' Explain.

He was very bad at confronting her, especially when she was this mad, this loud. He went silent, he stood there without moving, he felt trapped. He feared that speaking about something that was wrong would scare her away. He feared to wake up with her bags packed beside the door. Plus, she knew more about communication, and the whole relationship thing, she was always telling him the things he was thinking. She studied criminal psychology, she was a therapist for Christ's sake. He could never win with her, she always outsmarted him. He mumbled some incoherent words under his breath, his shoulders raising in defence.

'See?' She let her arms drop at her sides, 'You feel like I'm not appreciating what you give me, Simo, look at what I gave you!' She raised her arms, pointing to their apartment, their life, their routine. Well it was all hers, really. He had just moved in.

The interrogation room was cold, looked like the ones in the movies. They had her sitting in a chair, the three soldiers standing on her right, rifles in hand. Price and another man were inside, General Shepherd. She sat quietly with her hands behind her back, they had a laptop on the table in front of her. She had prepared for this moment, she had a code word for Salvo, in case she got caught. She knew what to do. She knew what was gonna happen, she kept quiet and kept thinking. Her phone was in her bag, sitting at Gaz's feet. She could ask to call him, tell him to go pick up her dog and take the pink leash. Taking the pink leash meant to take Jinx from her apartment and destroy any evidence she might have that incriminated her, he knew where to find everything. Every sign of Italy, of her family. A picture of her sister hidden in her bookshelf, a teddy from when she was young, her dead brother's shirt from when he was only 16, everything. It only took a phone call…

She looked up to see the door open and a woman step inside, tall, brunette in her early thirties. Price greeted her. Then Shepherd spoke. 'So, Alba… well… Eve, might as well call you Eve…' She looked at him like she was going to jump at his neck and kill him right there. She had never liked him, from the day she came to the first job interview two years ago. And her name wasn't fucking Eve, and he probably knew. She let her eyes examine his hands, his posture, the colour of his socks, rage building up in her chest. He noticed. He was startled for a second.

'…Eve, you sent a text to your sister Maria yesterday night at 2.41am from your apartment, on Campbell Ave if I'm not mistaken.' She looked at the laptop in front of her without replying. They already knew, what did they need her for? It was correct, she was drunk, she was happy, she smoked some weed and texted her sister for the first time in 4 years. A dumb mistake. She did the one thing she wasn't supposed to do. Reach out.

He continued, 'Maria is in the list of people you can't contact as per your contract, you know that.' He took a step close, she didn't raise her eyes. 'We could get you arrested, Eve, your family is dangerous', he continued, she felt her left eye twitch, as happened when she was stressed. She bit the inside of her cheek. '... You were hired and given a second chance under many conditions, but this, the message, is nothing but a betrayal of our trust. We can't have criminals working for the American government.'

He gave a look to his left, the brunette woman spoke to her in Italian. 'Eva, hai capito cosa ha detto?' She had a good accent, but still, a fucking translator? Unbelievable. She chucked, a single puff of air from her nostrils. They brought her so she could not speak Italian. So stupid, ignorant pigs. It was outrageous. Price jumped in, 'Eva listen, this doesn't have to be difficult, you can tell us what you did and why in Italian and Grace here will translate.' She felt her eye twitch again, she was starting to sweat. She needed more time. She took a few deep breaths and waited for them to go on. They did, cause they were impatient.

'You wrote that you missed her, your sister Maria, is that correct? What doest that stand for?'

'Is it code for something, does it have a meaning?'

She started to feel the familiar stinging pain of a migraine at her left temple, her contact lenses suddenly dry.

'You know, this is a good timing to get back in contact with your family, business is moving in Italy as I'm sure you know. Are you planning on going back?'

She bit her lower lip until she tasted blood.

'You know you breached our rules, we had said no contact whatsoever.'

'Eva we don't have time for this, if you could…'

'Grace', she spoke. She felt tears pricking the sides of her eyes, she turned towards the woman. She moved slowly. Her last shot, she considered her options and, well, there was really nothing she could do to get out of the situation. She could feel ringing in her ears, her heart beating so fast she felt like fainting. Her voice was low, but they payed attention now. From the corner of her eye, she almost saw Simon move against the wall, like he couldn't sit still. She almost forgot he was there.

Grace looked surprised to see her directly call out her name. She must feel important right now, thought Eva. Could turn this investigation around. The woman took a step towards her chair. 'Yes, Eva, puoi parlarmi.' So sweet, Grace had told her she could speak Italian to her if it made her feel better, so nice of Grace! She tilted her head, examining the woman's features. She was pretty. And confident. Eva could change that.

'Tu si capace 'e parlà 'o dialetto?'

Silence. The men waited for Grace to translate, but she didn't. Cause she didn't know what Eva said. They were so so so stupid...Grace's expression crumbled when she understood Italian grammar books didn't cover regional dialects, which is a shame, considering it was the first language Eva learned as a child. Still, nice try.

'Pardon me…?'

She didn't bother replying. She turned back in her chair, facing the table and the laptop. She saw her reflection in the black screen. She examined her eye bags, her bangs covering her forehead, her lips. She needed to stay strong, she needed to get a hold of her emotions, like she always did. This was just another day on the job.

The two men in front of her were trying to grasp why Grace didn't understand her dialect, the woman was telling them southern dialects are considered entirely different languages to standard Italian, only natives of the south really understood them. She saw Price rub his hands on his face in a defeated way. She was winning, at least for now. It didn't last long.

'Use her friend.' Said a voice. A deep voice, not just someone, him. Simon. She looked at him for the first time. They gave him their attention, she felt colour leave her cheeks. No...

'She has a friend from southern Italy, Salvatore, he's not deployed at the moment. Call him in. He knows the dialect.'

He was good, she had to give him that. Good idea, bring Salvatore in to talk to her. Good, good. Good soldier, Ghost. She let herself look at him, she didn't bother acknowledging the other two soldiers asking Ghost how he knew that information. It was obvious they were close, at this point. Not anymore, I guess. After this, she could never speak to him again. Good soldier, she had trusted him with the name of her best friend, now he was turning against her. Fair. I betrayed you, you betray me. Fair. All is fair in Love and War. She looked at him with compassionate eyes, he did too. You don't know what you just did. If we're here, in this room, and I have my hand tied it's cause I'm a threat. Don't you feel threatened, Ghost?

Behind that mask, coward, she couldn't pinpoint his expression. His eyes were on her face, her figure, hands cuffed behind her back. He had dreamed of her over and over again, he had imagined her as his pillow when he held it in the darkness of his room. He had envisioned her hands on his body, he had thought about her scent, he was consumed by her. She took that all away, with all those lies. It was gone, it was good while it lasted. She deserved his fury now. She was the enemy, after all.

And what does a good soldier do to his enemy?

I'll let him tell it.

notes: in italian, the abbreviation of the name Simone, Simon in English, is Simo (read Seemo. Simone is pronounced Seemone and not Seemonee, does that even make sense?)

notes: I'm back I'm sorry this took forever ouch

taglist:

@random-fandom-smoothie @lucienofthelakes

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

@warmedbythebody @katzykat @iristhemuse @azkza @keiraslayz @abbyandermine @jennyjencakes @dest-nai @corset-briefs @nutze-kekse @ilytsukiw @b3anspr0ut

@pondsblog @missyouzoe @fallenkitten @bigauthorrascalturkey @bethtay @angelynn-nicole @starluv @stargirlisworld @giyuuslittleslut @impossiblecupcakelight

@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me @asteriadisera

[lilcathsmith]

Crime Show Meme - CSI insp [2/5 cases]

"you're acting like you're going to rescue a person, not recover a body. And on this job... that's just not usually the case. "I was rescued." - Gum Drops (Season 6 Episode 5, 20th October 2005)

[landscaping-your-mind]

[ID: Scene from “The End of Time” where the tenth Doctor points a gun at the Time Lords while the Master stands behind him with a tweet by @/caranthirs over it. The tweet reads, “it’s simply so sexy when devotion becomes ruthlessness. when “i would do anything for you” is taken to its furthest extreme and a character has become utterly amoral in their unbending loyalty” /End ID]

[designernishiki]

as much as a i understand and respect ace kiryu truthers, i really feel like kiryu is the type to really take the idea to heart that sex is something vulnerable and meaningful and thus reserved for someone completely trusted and special to him– someone who feels right. after years and years he’s still never legitimately voluntarily slept with someone, always tries to turn women away or is at least apathetic when they try to get physical with him, never feels that deep and specific bond with a woman– nothing compared to some of his bonds with other men throughout his life. and maybe, hopefully, one day it’ll hit him that there’s a pretty big, glaring reason why no women have ever felt “right” to him.

[amplexadversary]

So I may have used my playthrough of The Outer Worlds to indulge in my desire to see some even darker AUs for G Gundam (since there is no shortage of opportunities).

Spoilers for a 30 year old anime and a 4 year old video game to follow, obviously.

My excuse for why anyone from G Gundam is in fucking Halcyon relies on two things changing:

the presence of an exodus into other star systems in G's setting (not that weird given the tech levels)

Domon actually succeeding at apprehending his brother without finding out the truth (maybe justifiable assuming he actually landed where he was supposed to and stumbled upon the Devil Gundam right when Master Asia moved it to Shinjuku).

Given these assumptions, my thought is that there is no way Ulube actually keeps his end of the deal re: letting Domon's dad, Dr Kasshu, out of cryo sleep. It's possible that in the show his plan was to blackmail the man into silence but that's still a witness AND victim running around being a liability to him, and he already has his accomplice Mikamura to worry about.

As a result, I think Ulube would JUMP on the opportunity to get rid of not only the witnesses to/victims of the Devil Gundam Incident, but also both his witting and unwitting accomplices by shipping them all off to another star system.

He'd probably immediately shove Kyoji into cryo to shut him up. Then, he'd move the goalposts for Domon by making something up about how Difficult It Is Getting An Acquittal In This Country, and that Domon would probably be older than his dad by the time he actually gets to see him again (a lie which, if Neo Japan's legal system is anything like the criticisms to its IRL counterpart, would have a grain of truth to it).

Naturally, Domon would be pretty upset by this. He'd probably accuse Ulube of lying to him and going back on his promise (true). Ulube would then play the sympathy card, claim he wants nothing more than to help given the service Domon has provided, etc. etc. etc, and then once Domon is at peak desperation Ulube brings up an alternative.

Instead of potentially waiting years or decades to see his family again while the legal system grinds its gears, Ulube offers to arrange a deal with a program meant to colonize other star systems. If Domon signs the necessary paperwork in his father and brother's absence, Ulube can secure them all a place on an interstellar transport called the Hope. Domon and his family all spend only 10y in cryo, and see each other immediately when they're all woken up at their destination.

Ulube probably gives Domon a few moments to think, and then pushes him further. Mikamura's also going (Ulube has plenty with which to threaten him) and his daughter, Rain has decided to come with. If Domon stays in the Neo Japan colony or on Earth, he never sees several of the people he's close to again, and has to wait for a non-guaranteed chance to see the rest.

Boarding the Hope would mean Domon never sees his teacher, Master Asia again, but Ulube's summary of the situation makes it sound more and more like the better option. Domon writes his master a letter saying goodbye and signs the paperwork.

Things going as planned for the Hope would mean it would take 20 years for anyone on it to make it back to Earth to question Ulube's report of what happened, and that's if the Kasshus turned around and came back as soon as they all woke up.

Per the opening of The Outer Worlds, things don't go as planned. After 70 years, Ulube has almost definitely died of old age. He's won.

And the Hope is adrift in the outer rim of the Halcyon system. Halcyon's technology is insufficient to safely revive anyone who has been in cryo for more than a decade or two. The only person who has tried is a wanted criminal.

(Which, admittedly, is something of a plot hole if we combine the two settings because the way G Gundam uses cryo definitely implies that Earth can revive people who have been in cryo for extended periods... but on the other hand Halcyon *is* run by buffoons and the original techs who revived the Groundbreaker might not have had that knowledge. Or died in the interim. Or the colony lost that particular bit of knowledge in any number of ways because there is extensive evidence of a widespread habit of not maintaining systems until they fail, cover your ass rather than admit to ever making any mistakes, etc, etc.

We can fill that hole with screwups similar to what we actually see in the game. When the Hope is found almost 30 years after it was supposed to arrive, someone went to look up how to revive people and oh shit the database is corrupted. Shit. Where's the senior cryo tech from Groundbreaker? They got pink slipped 20 years ago. Maybe we can ask Earth- no that would involve admitting we fucked our databases up. Up until now the ship was missing so it's just going to stay that way.)

So at the beginning of The Outer Worlds we have Dr. Phineas Welles sneaking onboard and looking through a manifest for a candidate to attempt to revive. He's pretty sure he's figured out how to do it this time, and this might be the last attempt he can make because he's out of one of the key chemicals he needs. But he's not certain. Welles needs someone he can be fairly confident will help him, but wants someone more a little bit more expendable than the brightest minds on the ship.

Welles hits pay dirt when he finds a group of passengers with the same last name and a promising history.

Two of them were exiled from Earth due to criminal charges, and have extensive knowledge of biology, robotics, and terraforming. Hell, he's pretty sure he's read some of their papers.

Welles briefly considers reviving either scientist. It would be nice to have someone he could relate to around, and surely they would understand his goals. Having family on the ship would be a strong motivator to rescue the other passengers, and hey! the criminal record implies (to Welles at least) a healthy disdain for authority that would motivate them to throw in with another fugitive!

But no, he doesn't revive Raizo or Kyoji Kasshu. Welles does not want to risk dissolving anyone he thinks is brilliant enough to actually save the colony. He also considers and decides against reviving Rain Mikamura, a talented engineer and medical doctor, for similar reasons.

Instead he goes for Domon Kasshu. A man who, according to his report, had already gone to great lengths in attempt to save the same people Welles has his eye on. A hand-to-hand combatant in peak physical condition would be unlikely to die should the revival succeed, and this one would be easily led (Welles thinks it lucky that he got to him before the Board did).

Domon doesn't yell at Welles as soon as he wakes up, but it's close. Right about when Welles slams the door to some kind of pod in Domon's face, Domon's fist connects with the door, and Welles is met with a volley of questions.

"Where's my dad? Who are you? What do you mean bad news!??"

Domon isn't familiar with all of the terminology Welles is using but is deeply disturbed by the concept of exploding or being liquefied, and continues to bang on the door.

And now the old man is asking for his help. Domon's family and his best friend are still frozen on that ship.

It feels like the Gundam Fight all over again.

Except the person asking him for help this time is (proudly) waving a Wanted poster in his face.

[dirt-str1der]

I literally cannot get enough of kiryu following sayama around like a little dog because she can arrest him proper whenever she wants and hes just like okay (worried about her because she seems insane and that means hes very interested in her)

[hauntingblue]

Evangelion movie hello

[webshood]

time travel fanfic idea where Jason comes back to before he was adopted, him and Batman still meet and he still ends up being adopted by Bruce Wayne, but he just refuses to acknowledge Batman and Robin, he acts like a civilian boy, he has over thirteen extracurriculars that Bruce does his best to keep up with. He regularly works out and trains all the fighting he's learned over the years, he goes on a gap year before college to recuperate the all blades and pretends to be the civilian in a family of crime fighting vigilantes.

He's doing pre-med and keeps nagging his siblings to go to college too (Cass, Tim), Duke is the one who spends more time with him bc everyone else is nocturnal and sleep through the day, but Jason likes to drive Duke to his classes and pick him up so they can have lunch together, Damian had a hard time at first, because Jason speaks every language that he speaks and all bat related things have to stay at the cave, his league training didn't prepare him for a civilian brother.

During an attempted kidnapping during one of the Wayne galas, Jason's whole plan almost gets blow up because one of the guys has taken a woman hostage and his Red Hood fried brain just pounced on the dude with all his might, wrestled him for the gun and kept him stuck under his boot with the gun pointed between the guys brows.

He had to pretend to be scared when Batman came to the rescue and act like he didn't know how to handle a gun.

+ Alfred 100% thinks Jason was on a children gang and that's why he's so good with knives, guns and rifles, but who's he to say anything about people's past

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I just know that Ash pulling one of these would drive S.eifer nuts in the best way possible

[bi-writes]

Could you do one of Simon forgetting to bring his lunch and so his wife brings it except she turns up in a cute sundress??

mail-order bride (18+)

"simon...simon riley?" you ask.

the officer raises a brow, looking down at your ID and then back at your face. he frowns a little, scratching the back of his neck.

"he's a lieutenant," you add, biting your lip. "uhm...and he works with...with john."

"john?"

you suck in a shaky breath, biting your lip nervously.

"captain john price?"

the officer just glares at you a little before picking up his radio.

"yes, ma'am. wait here."

he turns his back to you, walking a little ways away, and you hear him speak into the radio lowly.

"...got a civilian here asking for lieutenant riley..."

"...negative, sir..."

"...oh. affirmative, sir. right away."

the officer comes back, giving you your ID back. he looks sheepish now all of the sudden, and he smiles at you, which unnerves you almost.

"u-uh, so sorry ma'am. you can park near the main office, right that way," he points to a building far to the left, "i'll have someone come meet you there to take you inside. again, apologies...we're going to put you on a list, mrs. riley."

you frown a little, shrugging. you're not upset. it's a miltiary base, for christ's sake, and you've never been here; of course they would be apprehensive about letting you in. but the private looks terrified out of his mind, so you just smile a little and make your way towards the parking spot he pointed out.

when you get out of the car, you push the door closed with your hip, picking up the bag in the passenger seat. there's a woman standing by the door, smiling and waving at you. she looks very smart, in a nice pantsuit. you smooth your dress down, smiling back at her, and you swing your purse over your shoulder before making your way to her.

"hello, mrs. riley. the lieutenant's wife, i hear?" she asks. you nod and shake her hand.

"y-yes...he...he said he was just doing administrative stuff today, but he forgot some things so...i just wanted to do something nice--"

"right!" she nods her head towards the door. "i can escort you to his office. uhm...i believe he's debriefing with captain price this afternoon, but i'm sure he can make some time." she winks at you when she says that, and you bite back a shy smile.

she takes a seat at her desk, picking up the phone. she yaps for a few minutes, and you take a seat in an empty chair, smoothing your skirt out. your wearing one of simon's favorites, the cherry-printed mini dress he loves so much, but you realize maybe he might not be the only one. there's a myriad of privates and soldiers that walk past you, and you hear some whistles by some of the bolder ones. you suddenly feel very self conscious, tucking your legs underneath yourself. you're wearing white strapped wedges, your hair styled nicely with a bow to match the dress, but now you feel silly, stupid.

why would you go to a military base dressed like a fucking pin-up girl?

"wot are you doin' 'ere?" a rough voice demands.

mmm. that's why.

you look up from your chair, smiling wide when you see him. simon stands with his arms crossed over his tact vest, tilting his head to the side as he glares at you from under his skull mask. you've never seen him strapped before, though. he's got a gun tucked into his thigh holster.

"h-hi," you pick up the basket next to you, standing up, and when you come close, simon is rough, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you near him with a short growl.

"oi," he snaps, but you just flutter your lashes at his harsh voice, smiling bigger. "can't fuckin' come 'ere lookin' so pretty."

you giggle, and even though you're wearing heels, you still find yourself standing on your toes as you try to get close to him.

"you forgot what i packed for you, simon. how could you forget?" you pout a little. he sighs deeply, smoothing his gloved hand down your back before nodding his head.

"c'mon. can't 'ave ya out here. fuckin' muppets starin' at my wife."

he turns and immediately starts walking. he's entirely too fast, and you skip in your wedges practically to try and keep up with him. when he notices, he slows his pace, and you grip the basket better in your hand before reaching for his with the other.

your hands intertwine, and you look around as you walk, reading the plaques on the wall, the shiny medals, waving at johnny when you see him holding a bag of crisps upside over his open mouth.

when simon shuts the door behind you in a dark office, you set the basket down on the desk, pushing back the kitchen towel fabric.

"okay, so i brought those muffins you like from that little shop. they had blueberry this morning, oh my gosh, simon, they also started putting out these little scones that--oh!" you gasp as he grabs you from the fat of your hips, a big flat palm over the base of your spine as he pushes you flat onto your stomach onto the desk. "simon!"

simon sucks on his teeth as he flips up your skirt, letting out a low whistle as he palms your ass, spreading the fat of it so he peek at the seam of the white lace you're wearing. you lay your palms against the desk and whimper, not used to simon being so rough, so upfront, so bold.

"can't just come here all dressed up, baby," simon grunts, shaking his head. "and not expect me to take wot i need...been surrounded by nothing but wankers all fuckin' day..."

you relax a little, giggling.

"simon," you sigh, your eyes closing as you push your hips back into his hands. "i missed you so much..."

"tha' why y'came down 'ere, luvvie?" he asks, smirking under the mask. "ya missed me? missed y'r husband? what'd ya miss, baby? tell me."

you arch your back a little, bowing it, and you laugh when he gives your ass a firm grab before picking you up and spinning you around, caging you against the desk. you smile up at him, dazed, a little dizzy, and he winks at you, eye-black dark and deadly around those killer brown eyes. he's so big, so hot, and you're suddenly very aware of how big simon looks in all his gear.

"i don't know," you say softly. "it's so cold in bed at night..."

simon snorts, "tha' right? 's cold? the lil' shits don't keep ya warm?"

"our girls like to sleep on your pillow, i think they miss you, too."

"fuckin' lil' bastards," simon chuckles, and you sigh, sliding your hands up his vest and tugging him just a little closer. your spread your knees to let him between them, and he reaches down and grips your thighs, hiking them up around his hips as he sits you onto the edge of the desk. "fuck, you're so fucking pretty..."

you tilt your head back for him.

"i miss eating with you. it's so quiet when you're not around."

"mmm. i bet, luv."

"and i miss you when i'm alone," you whisper. "i miss you when it's just me..."

simon narrow his eyes, "tell me, swee'eart."

you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down towards you. you kiss him over the mask, tasting sand and ash, licking over his lips through the cotton. it's lewd, disgusting, but he groans under the fabric.

"when, simon? when?" you ask, and he hums lowly.

"when? 'ow about right now?"

"no way, you're so gross, simon," you giggle. "our first time is not going to be on a desk in some dingy office where you work--"

you seize when he cups you between the thighs, big gloved hand palming your cunt through your lace panties. you arch your back and gasp, gripping his biceps tight as you lean into his touch.

"don't need t'make it our first time," simon tilts his head to the side. "can still make it real fuckin' nice, baby."

"oh, now you wanna touch me?" you suck in a shaky breath. "just because some of your men wanna look up my skirt?"

"oh, for tha', i'll make ya scream my bloody name, for oll of them ta hear," he growls, and you smile wide up at him.

"guess they need to learn i'm a lieutenant's wife," you giggle, and simon whistles low, tugging your panties to the side, and you whimper when you he prods at your entrance with two big gloved fingers.

"ahhhh..." simon hisses. "ya like tha' title, tha' it, baby? yeah...yeah you like tha'..."

"i like it," you whine, and when he meets your watery eyes, he plunges those big fingers deep, thumbing at your clit. your mouth falls open, your nails digging into his sleeves, and you suddenly wish you had asked him to take you to get your nails done so you could really claw it. "i like it..."

"could make these boys lick the fuckin' ground ya walk on," he mutters, and you whine when a particular rough thrust of his hand squelches between your thighs. "they'd do anythin' to please me, baby...even johnny would chew your bloody food for ya if i asked him to--"

you reach down and grip his wrist, your thighs shaking as you jolt. it feels so good, your entire body is on fire. his fingers are petting a nice little spot inside of you, stroking it as he pumps his hand nice and steady inside of you. his thumb is working you in gooey circles, flicking at your clit and putting taut the little string in your lower belly. your whole brain feels like it's fizzling, your blood rushing, and you stick out your tongue, licking over his masked jaw as you start to feel like you're gonna pass out from the wet slick, slick, slick sounding from your wet cunt.

"simon--simon--" you pant, and he groans, nodding his head.

"so pretty, baby," simon breathes. "so fuckin' tight, gonna 'ave to work ya open before i give ya my cock, lovey..."

"it's so big," you mumble, and simon coos, nodding his head.

"i know, baby, i know, 's big, real big...but you can take it, remember?" he laughs. "you can take it woteva i give you..."

you nod.

"i can take it--i can take it--!"

your vision blurs. there's tears coming down your face, sweat lining your forehead, your back, but you can't wipe the giggly, lazy smile off your face. simon cups the back of your head with his free hand, sitting you up, and when he pulls his fingers out from between your legs, his gloves are stuck to his hand practically, completely soaked through.

"y'r so pretty when y'cum," he murmurs, and you stick out your tongue for him. he gets the message, shoving his mask up just enough, and he bends to kiss you warm and wet.

"well then," you meet his eyes, all languid, all relaxed, a devious little grin on your sweet face. "why don't you give me another then?"

simon grins, all teeth.

"woteva ya want."

[bunny-jpeg]

lust is a loaded hand gun

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, ferrari!reader, baby fever, seduction, cowgirl position, alcohol/drinking, breeding, the reader wants to have a baby and chooses to have it with max, max is not aware

this bunny runs on comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

part 2: love is a kick to the stomach

this sounded stupid. but you wanted a baby. and while that was an easy task for most women, you knew that there was something impersonal about picking from a catalogue. reading profiles felt weird, like you were looking for a used car rather than the biological other half of your child. even if you'd raise them without a father, you'd rather have a night of passion than an awkward doctor's visit.

charles leaned back in his seat and asked, "why don't you and i just make one." he shrugged his shoulders. he considered himself close to you. you had been teammates for a little over two seasons and prior to that you knew each other. he didn't mind being the one to help you bring a child into the world, "i can be his uncle and he'd never know."

but, as close as you were to your teammate. you had other drivers in mind.

you made a face, "no offense, charles. but it would feel like doing it with my brother." being teammates meant you two knew too much about one another. you worked well as teammates and rivals because you were more like siblings. while you appreciated the offer, you felt it was weird.

charles asked, relaxed in his seat, "why are you doing this anyway? isn't there a million ways for you to have a child."

you shrugged, "i want to be a mom, i don't know. leave my seat behind to another woman and let her make all the history. i'm honestly tired. i've reached the peak and now." you sighed, "i want something else. i've got enough money to retire and let my future child retire before they're born." you crossed your arms, "i don't want to be doing this shit until i'm forty and just degrade in the skills department. end on a high note." while it was not an insult to other driver's on the grid. you felt bad that they never got to really be parents due to the schedules.

"so you need to seduce a driver to make that happen."

you nodded, out of the corner of your eye you spotted the driver you had your eye on. while you eyed the man crossing your path, your voice got softer, "and i think i know just the driver."

charles looked over to the direction you were looking at. he noticed who was walking by and he looked back to you, shoulders dropped, "max. you're going to seduce and have a child with max?"

you looked back to charles and shrugged, "why not? what's not to like?" max wasn't a perfect man, sometimes you wondered about the mechanics of his brain. but, you knew your child with him would lay waste to the track in the future.

"i can name a few. do you want them alphabetically or severity of it?" charles asked.

you gave him a look, "it wouldn't be hard to get him to sleep with me. you, me and the rest of the garage has seen how he looks at me. i mean who else do i have to choose from? either they're too old, they're rookies, or they have girlfriends. and i'm not getting a heel in the eye because i'm trying to have a baby."

charles rubbed the bridge of his nose, "i think you just like him."

you tensed up for a moment, "no. this is all just simple. scheming... nothing more. i don't expect to trap him with a child. he is free to live his life after i'm done with him."

charles found it hard to believe. not on your end, but max's. he had heard at sickeningly lengths about how max felt for you. it was probably the most eloquent the driver had ever been. if you got pregnant by him, he'd be getting a ring the next day. he sighed once more, "then have fun with the wold champion. i'd say to be safe, but i think being unsafe is the whole point of this."

you gave the once over of max in the near distance and smiled, "don't worry charles, you'll get all the details in the morning." which earned a groan from your teammate.

-

it started over a bottle of wine and ended in the motor home of red bull. you and max had gotten frisky over the evening. you wondered if anyone was selling the photos of you two in the back of the restaurant to tmz or some other trashy outlet. you had shared two bottles of wine over dinner. the benefit of being as wealthy as you were, you could throw the cash onto the table and giggle as you stumble out of your place.

you knew someone had a photo of max kissing you at the table to 'taste' the sauce that came with your meal. as if he couldn't take some from the plate.

but back in the motor home, you had dropped your purse by the door. in the dark of the place, you two were starting to get undressed. heels kicked to the wall, your bracelets set on the coffee table. your dress was on the floor by the bed, your bra over the lamp by the bed and your panties on the bed.

"i'm on top." you said as you kissed max's lips. he tasted like wine and fine dining. he tasted and smelled expensive. in all fairness he could be worth more than a micro nation. he was not an easy man to buy, but the currency of sex was in high demand. max wanted you, and you knew that because he got on his back without much argument.

you were both naked on the bed. the faint lights gleamed through the large windows as you rubbed up against max with no other lighting. you could see his face against the shadows of the night. his blue eyes were like gems and they pulled you in. whoever he ended up with would be very lucky.

but tonight you needed him. he was an important piece in your plan. you rubbed against him and with a little help, you sank down onto his cock. while cowgirl wasn't the best position to try and get pregnant, but it ensured that your plan would work. any position is a working one.

"you're beautiful."

"i know." you said as you rubbed yourself against him. you braced your hands on his strong chest. he was a handsome man, he was good at what he did and he was a winner. you knew anyone would be lucky to have him, but tonight was the perfect partner. you knew a child with him would be perfect.

you continued to rub up against him. the roll of your hips were methodical. this wasn't the first time you slept with a man. you moaned when max groped your breasts, massaged the flesh between those bear paws he called hands. soon you sank on his cock and shuddered, feeling the heat raise in your belly.

this was a mission, no time to get attached. you were both tipsy from the alcohol and the driver under you were more handsy than ever. you try not to feel the emotions that came with it. the feeling of being attached to someone you were having sex with. you batted charles' assumptions about your feelings for max out of your mind as you rode the dutch driver.

you were determined to get pregnant tonight. you measured it all down to a t, all you needed was for max not to get whiskey dick. you curved your back to get closer to him, your lips met his as you moved up and down. his cock was snug in your, but it went in almost perfect. the blunt head hit against the furthest parts of you. your heart hammered in your chest as you moved your hips.

you pushed hair out of your face before your braced your hands on his chest once more. he was very toned, you almost wanted to joke about what happened to his slightly kinder chocolate addiction. but that was neither here nor there.

"you feel so good." he grunted, "why haven't we done this before? fuck." he panted, he could feel the heat in his cheeks as you rode him. he had been with others before but being under you was a pleasure no money could buy. you were really good at it, knowing exactly how to make him feel good.

"good things take time." you panted, part of you wondered what would happen if you covered his mouth. you didn't need the dirty talk, this was a mission. if you wanted a casual friends with benefits, you'd try something online or another in the paddock. fucking max was a certainly that you'd get pregnant. it didn't have to be intimate or soft. it was a means to an end, and you'd get there no matter what.

the sounds of your fucking filled the room as you continued to move against him. you raked your nails down his chest, catching his nipples which made him moan. he was cute on his back, letting you take over. you wondered how deep his affection for you went.

you didn't want the emotional baggage of it all. tonight you were both drunk and having sex in the motor homes. it would be a one night stand before you two finished out the season. you could feel the heat across your back as you stared at him.

his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open as he panted heavily. there was heat in his face and you felt something tug in your chest. he was beautiful, you hated to admit it. but max verstappen was a pretty boy.

he was already blissed out, his noises forced you by the movement of your hips. you licked your lips and without thinking, you left a mark on his collarbone. it was stupid, but it excited your further.

you continued to move against him. your breasts bounced with each move of your hips. you felt moans in the back of your throat and a hum in your soul. pleasure was close and it wasn't long before you really worked yourself onto his cock and finished.

the tightness around his cock made max's back arch a little bit. he could feel the heat in the back of his head. his heart pounded as he watched you continue to ride his cock. he panted heavily and soon climaxed as well. you made sure to get everything you could out. you kissed him once more before you stopped. when you pulled away you got off of his waist and laid down on the bed.

"wow." he said out of breath.

you didn't want to talk. instead you turned your head to kiss him on the lips to keep him quiet. there was no time for mushy romantic bedroom talk. you needed him to fall asleep before you could leave.

you tried to count down the seconds, placing kisses across his heated face. you reminded yourself that there would be some lucky enough to keep him for life.

when you pulled away from his lips after one last kiss, he curled up beside you and right then fell asleep. you stayed awake, when the heat cooled in your body. you hoped your mission was a success. the lust and the alcohol still made its rounds in your body. but you were lucid enough to find your clothes in the dark and slip out of the motor home before morning.

you'd never bring up the event to max, only briefly mentioning it to charles. you'd drive harder after that, in the end you'd secure a world championship. as you kissed the trophy and your country's national anthem played, you were already pregnant with your child.

-

your retirement was a shock to max. you could've easily decorated your home with many trophies over the next few years. but at the end of the 2024 season, you bowed out. you thanked fans and told them that it was a new chapter in your life. and then like that you fell off the face of the earth over the off-season.

max tried to find ways to contact you. where did you go? what happened? why leave at the height of it all? the more he thought about it, the more questions were raised in his head. he asked around the paddock, even going as far as to ask charles where you went. the other drive shrugged and told him that you moved back to your home country with a "little extra luggage". there were no social media posts. nothing. it nagged in the back of his brain for what felt like a lifetime. what happened to ferrari's princess?

it wasn't until almost three years later, max had claimed another world championship. it felt like these days he was riding high. he was still the best. but as he walked into the paddock to train for the upcoming season, he stopped in his tracks. he felt like he was splashed with cold water.

there you were, three years older with a glow to you. you were laughing with charles and lewis, you looked different but in a good way. you were in overalls and a ferrari shirt underneath. you were more curvy than you were when you were driving. and while you were still beautiful like the sun, pulling max in. what made his stomach drop was who was in your arms.

a young boy, with big curious eyes and round cheeks. he held onto you tightly, his small fists in the fabric of your shirt. he seemed curious about the track, but not scared of how big it all felt. while max would've assumed that you got married and had a child as a lot of people did. but that's not what had happened.

max knew right away at the first glance of your son. looking at him was like looking at max's childhood photos. even in features that matched your own, your son carried a lot of max in him. the itch in his brain after you fell off the earth all those years ago came back, this was where you went. the boy looked like him and if he was right about the boy's age then dates lined up. there was no question. max verstappen was your son's father. and when you noticed him staring. you simply smiled and gave him a wink, shifting the boy in your arms and pointing at the me. when your son smiled, max felt something in his gut. looking at you, holding your (his) son, made max feel like he was home. and all those feelings he had been carrying poured back into his head and heart. the same emotions that allowed you to bed him. <3

sequel: love is a kick to the stomach

[hurlingdown]

thinkin’ about . . . gunplay with fushiguro toji. you’re a notorious mafia boss, and he’s a sharp-witted spy sent out to honey trap you. what comes next?

tags. sub! toji, dom! reader. gunplay, oral, cock-stepping, dirty talk, degradation, slight feminization, sir kink, toji being a (cock)slut.

fushiguro toji would have never thought his honey trap mission would end up with him being on his knees for you and a gun to his throat.

“don’t tell me,” you muttered, patting the barrel of the gun against his cheek, “you actually thought you would be able to pull this off without getting caught?” 

toji was staring up at you with such composure that normally would have pissed you off, but you didn’t miss the way he visibly swallowed when you traced his jawline with the muzzle, betraying how affected he really was. he couldn't help it. the way you were treating him was exciting, and he had to remind himself that you were holding a weapon that could end his life. 

at his silence, you slowly trailed the mouth of the gun down the vein of his neck, cold metal scraping against hot skin, making him shiver. 

“so quiet,” you sighed, angling the gun in a way that circled his adam’s apple, his breath hitching at the slight pressure on his windpipe. “and to think you were talking so much earlier, when you attempted to seduce me in that bar.” 

toji smirked. “n’ i damn near succeeded.” 

“if you did, you’d be in a far better place than here, kneeling at my mercy. don’t you think?” 

“y’were ready to bend me over the table,” he drawled, lazily meeting your eyes. “if you didn’t see the gun—you would’ve fucked me in fronta everyone.” 

eyebrows furrowing, you gripped his hair forcefully, lifting him to meet you face-to-face as he grunted in pain, struggling to stay on his knees with his hands bound behind him. “—fucker. give a warning.” 

you clenched your jaw.

“i can see why they sent you,” you said nonchalantly, a carefully constructed facade for your anger—hot gaze trailing down the tempting crevice of his chest, down to the erection that practically bulged obscenely against the front of his trousers. “with this slutty body of yours. could make you half a woman with the size of those.” 

“could it,” toji wheezed. it didn’t come out like a question. “got a thing for whores with big tits? or ‘s just me, sire?” 

what was he playing at? you jerked his head back roughly, lining the gun up at the base of his throat. 

“open your mouth again, and i’ll put a bullet through your pretty face.” 

toji stared the gun down as though being held at gunpoint was a routine for him at this point, completely unfazed. his gaze darted towards you right after, face contorted into a strangely smug expression, like he knew you weren’t going to shoot him. you watched as he carefully parted his lips, taking his tongue out and shooting you a naughty gaze through his lashes. 

it took you a moment to gather your bearings before you snarled, half in anger and half in awe. “you fucking slut.”

if he wanted something in his mouth, well, you were going to give him something.

ignoring the glint of wariness in his eyes as you raised the gun from his throat, you pressed the tip of it against his lips before slowly pushing it past the rim. it had to taste bitter, with residual gunpowder staining the edges, but toji didn’t show it. if anything, it looked like he was enjoying it, jaw slackening as he allowed you to push in further. 

toji’s eyes fluttered shut as you finally bottomed out, trying not to gag as the muzzle hit the back of his throat. there was a small frown fixed on his face in concentration, and he tilted his head expertly to allow it to slide in deeper. 

his lips were wrapped taut around the thick barrel up to the trigger where your finger laid, lewd gurgles now sounding as saliva rapidly gathered in his mouth at the overstretch. a line of drool tantalisingly dripped down the side of his chin, dribbling down the exposed column of his throat. 

the loud click of you cocking the gun had him letting out a pathetic whimper, swallowing hard as he tried his hardest to take it in deeper. he glanced up at you through smouldering, watery eyes, looking for something akin to… approval. 

“think i underestimated how much of a whore you are,” you muttered, yanking his head to the side, to which he whined lowly at. “got a thing for sticking dangerous objects down your throat, toji, or is it just my gun?”  

toji let out a muffled response, or tried to, as you took the opportunity to flatten the side of the barrel against his tongue, the heel of your foot simultaneously digging down hard onto his clothed erection. he groaned, hips bucking up as he tried to chase the sudden stimulation, the overwhelming pleasure making his eyes roll back in an erotic display.

“that’s enough,” you rasped, pulling the barrel out. it was now thoroughly drenched in his spit, and a lewd string of saliva connected the muzzle and his lips. he looked up at you with dazed bedroom eyes.

“i want the real thing now,” toji purred. “sire.” 

kinktober masterlist! main masterlist!

[bamjio]

❛ 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆 ❜— ✿ .. deadpool headcanonns!

BEING WADE WILSONS' ONE AND ONLY ❛ WIFE. ❜ !

⋆˚✿˖° — CLINGY! it's honestly feels suffocating. Does he know personal space? of course. does he oblige to that rule? he'd rather dig logans burial.

— it doesn't matter, wade believes that if you love someone you won't let them go, literally.

— you'd always wake up to him tightly hugging you down, his arms and legs hovering your figure. don't think of letting go, cause he'll just grip more.

— expect him to go over your workplace and hang out there till the end of your shift, he won't budge even if the manager threatened to call the cops.

— goodness, he's just so obsessed with your scent, skin, hair, face, lips, arms, ❛boobies❜, and everything. he'd rather cut his head off than avoid you for a solid 3 days.

⋆˚✿˖° — CHILDISH! is wade a grown man that kills people or a child that wants your attention 24/7? Well, he's a child that kills and wants your attention.

— him being your husband feels like your with a child that won't grow up, he loves making a huge mess, doing anything to impress you, even fighting Logan for fun to show off who's stronger.

— wherever you both go, he'd always wander off somewhere; bothering someone or touching things that aren't supposed to be touched. and you're always panicking looking for wade, usually takes a few hours until he magically finds you, or you find him.

— loves likes seeing you angry, he claims that it's ❛super hot❜ and ❛cute, looks like a cat❜, so he'd bother you every unexpected time, whenever you'd read a book he likes to steal it and read it out loud, whenever you're on the verge of slumber; he'd either yell or picture your sleepy state.

— you're like a mother always scolding wade, and thankfully he obeys you, like a guilty child. yet his manners still come back like his life, you will never get tired of him though, and he knows it.

⋆˚✿˖° — OVERPROTECTIVE! your friends call it lovesick, but him and his 'audience' call it protecting! yeah, maybe he did kill your co worker because he called you crybaby, but thats besides the point.

— special forces, mutant, anti-hero, killer; yadayada, he's everything not a simple man could protect, call him delusional but unexpected things happen, you could get assassinated while eating breakfast, or worse. It's not being too weird, it's being considerate.

— definitely forced Logan to look after you once, not that he minds; Logan admires you. and that turned out to you finding out and scolding wade, being a big baby he is— he definitely didn't talk to you.

— ❛whos that in my bosses office??❜ suprise! it's wade holding a gun to your superiors head while waving at you, well because your boss threatened to fire you.

— in realities and seriousness, he doesn't wanna loose you. loosing someone pains him so much, yet being annoying is the only way he can cope. he lost so much people and he can't afford to loose you too. and him being wanted and a so called 'villain' in every story, he knows one day theyll figure you out.

⋆˚✿˖° — LOYAL! before the day you guys talked, he vowed that if he finds himself attach to another woman romantically, he'd hang himself. he loves you and even if you didn't, no one could ever replace you.

— despite lotta girls getting attracted to him, his eyes will be locked at you. his ears and eyes will forever be yours to catch.

— won't hesitate to slam a girls face into a metal table if they'd ever flirt with you, even with him showing you off. What's only stopping him is you not wanting him to harm anyone, and he's definitely obedient when it comes to you.

— define bare minimum, cause he definitely isn't just the minimum. his profiles in every social contains either your face, or you and him. not only profile, also his header and posts, tagging you whenever he interacts with his 'fans' putting "with — y/n wilson" "my wife — y/n Wilson" "fbm —y/n wilson" and anything that contains you.

— would you really doubt your crazy husband and his whatever audience? Looks can deceive and he's the frame for it, honesty and loyalty is his integrity, he vowed to you and shown his loyalty, and he would never break it.

⋆˚✿˖° ❛iris — tggd❜ , ❛she will be loved — M5❜.