#thx-ghxst

[ladydestroyerofearth]

Pretty Packaging

@thx-ghxst

Az had an extensive collection of risque clothing from over the years. The pieces that always seemed to always get her in trouble were made of latex. And with the help of the boys and the first outfit, Tony had ever seen her in she planned on surprising Tony for his birthday.

He was rather observant so keeping everything a secret had been a little hard. If anything Az had to keep the plan between her and Aaron as Konig and Price would crack under wifely pressures. She was applying another coat of her favorite oxblood lipstick before shooting a text to Aaron.

'You got eyes on your fearless leader? Doing a final check before I had on over.'

Taking a peak in the mirror she smiled at her reflection. Black latex pencil skirt, sleeveless crop top, matching elbow-length gloves, and a silver chain body harness. One of her less sexually explicit pieces but a favorite. Paired with a pair of black red bottoms and a burgundy great coat with a tie about the waist to cover it all up.

Grabbing her keys and her purse she was out the door and in the car in just a few moments. By the time she got into town and was parked at the bar, walking towards Tony's shop she had a text from the private chef she'd reserved that dinner would be ready in an hour. Giving her more than enough time to have a little fun in the shop.

"Honey, I'm home," Azrael called as she walked in the door and laid hr purse on the front desk giving a wink to the receptionist.

[noheroessarge]

"Day job's irrelevant tonight." He kept the gun level on him despite the fact that he didn't have one in his hands. It was hard to tell whether he was armed in the shadows of the alleyway, but he'd assume the man had weapons whether he could see them or not. Safer that way. Without taking his eyes off him, he could see the others disappearing out the other end of it behind him, and he sighed quietly. He didn't know what that was about, and he didn't want to.

"If you're with them, go. Not gonna shoot you unless you try to shoot me." He had no reason to believe Sarge was the kind of person who wouldn't shoot someone in the back. He wasn't, and if he really wanted him dead, he could have shot him in the head three times already. He wasn't a cold-blooded killer. He'd gone most of his career as a cop without ever drawing his weapon.

He'd never even Purged until that one night years ago had set him on this path. Protect and serve-- well, he wasn't a cop anymore, so it wasn't illegal for him to be out here doing what he was doing. Just frowned upon. The government tended not to like heroes.

muse: Leo Barnes (The Purge) open to: 21+ only please / mutuals and non-mutuals / other canon horror muses, multifandom crossovers, OCs, whatever! triggers: canon-typical, including mentions of death/dead bodies, genocide, guns, violence, classism, racism, ableism, police, grief

21ST MARCH 2028

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EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM

WEAPONS OF CLASS 4 AND LOWER HAVE BEEN AUTHORIZED FOR USE DURING THE PURGE. ALL OTHER WEAPONS ARE RESTRICTED.

GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS OF RANKING 10 HAVE BEEN GRANTED IMMUNITY FROM THE PURGE AND SHALL NOT BE HARMED.

ANY AND ALL CRIME, INCLUDING MURDER, WILL BE LEGAL FOR 12 CONTINUOUS HOURS.

POLICE, FIRE, AND EMERGENCY MEDICAL SERVICES WILL BE UNAVAILABLE UNTIL 7AM WHEN THE PURGE CONCLUDES.

BLESSED BE OUR NEW FOUNDING FATHERS AND AMERICA, A NATION REBORN.

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07:26:03 LEFT OF THE ANNUAL PURGE

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With one exception, Sarge had never cared for Purge night. It went against everything he'd sworn to do as a police officer. Protect and serve. It had been hard to argue with the results those first few years though because it seemed like it worked. Overall crime did go down in the country, and it stayed down. His job got easier. Then his world ended, and he believed in the Purge a lot. The Purge kept him going that whole first year. The Purge would get him the justice he'd never see in a courtroom. The Purge would set him free.

Yeah, grief could mess with a man's head like that. It wasn't until that night that he started to see it for what it was. Who was mostly likely to be a target. (Not him.) Who suffered the most on those nights. (Not him.) And who stood to benefit the most from things staying exactly as they were. (Not. Him.) It was unfairly stacked against people of color, people of low income, people who couldn't protect themselves. And, naturally, the New Founding Fathers liked it that way. Crime wasn't lower because people got to purge their darkest impulses once a year. It was lower because it cleared out all of society's "undesirables," and the government no longer had to pay to protect them. And when the Purge wasn't effective enough on its own, they sent their own people to help.

He would know.

He hadn't been able to stomach going back to the force after that night. He'd worked on the edges of private security for a couple years but hadn't yet decided if it was going to work out. Nobody needed a bodyguard more than on Purge night, and he wasn't quite willing to give this up. He'd been warned to stay out of it, warned not to play hero, but shit, it wasn't illegal. Nothing was tonight. The worst they could do was kill him, and that could happen just as easily if he was sitting at home as out here in the thick of it. (Maybe not just as easily. But he'd rather be a dead hero than a sitting duck.)

It wasn't that hard to tell the government Purgers from the regular population if you knew what you were looking for. They were better trained and better funded. Sure, you'd get the occasional rich asshole on a murder spree, with piles of fancy or custom weapons they had no fucking idea how to use, but more and more these days, the rich preferred to Purge in the privacy of their homes. Get someone old or sick or dying to come on Purge night, pay their family an enormous sum of money for their sacrifice, and never risk a damn thing. You could bet the government would be extra and trained. He fucking hated those semi-trucks with the automatic weapons in the back, take out a whole block at once like it was a goddamn genocide. (Wasn't it, in a way?)

He'd gotten lucky that first night. Few people had ever dared to fight back against that kind of weaponry. He'd caught them off guard. They were prepared now, but he was too. The explosion had knocked the semi on its side and left a crater in the street, and it was a chaos of gunfire and screaming. His team might not be well-funded or ex-military, but with a sniper rifle at that range, they didn't really have to be. There were plenty of people who hated the Purge even more than he did, and they were more than willing to hit back in any way they could. A little strategy, a little target practice, a little contracting, and you got this, a little street guerilla warfare.

When everyone with body armor, gas masks, and automatic weapons was on the ground, dead or dying, he stepped out from his cover but didn't holster his gun until it was clear he wasn't being shot at. Most of the people who had been hauled out of their tenement buildings to be slaughtered had already fled at the first opportunity, but a few had stayed behind, too shocked or injured to run. All of his team wore the same matte black mask, featureless and invisible in the shadows. It was an extra precaution; they'd already thrown out a signal jammer for the cameras. Everything might be legal on Purge night, but there were 364 other days in the year where "accidents" might happen to people who fought back.

He pushed it up to reveal his face as he knelt by a girl, maybe eight, frightened and bleeding. "Hey, it's alright. Can I have a look at that?" He nodded toward her arm, gently inspecting the three-inch gash in it, likely from being pushed to the ground. "It'll be okay. Hold it up like this to stop the bleeding. You got somewhere safe to go?" This he directed at the woman who had joined them. Mother, aunt, older sister? He had no idea. When she shook her head no, he produced a business card with a single address printed on it, no other information. "Memorize it. Head that way and take a left on 5th. There are weapons and medical supplies. You'll be safe there until morning." The card disappeared back into a pocket, and he nodded a goodbye as they started down the street. He needed to move too, before the next wave, before all the noise brought vultures of a different kind down on them.

It was instinct that had him pointing the gun before he even understood what the threat was or if there was one. He couldn't see clearly enough in the shadows of the alley to tell whether it was victim, threat, or something else entirely, but he hugged the building for cover and kept his aim steady.

"Come on out of there. Slowly."

[sevenxtenxthriteen]

@thx-ghxst

Yara chuckled lightly to herself as she watched her husband working to put the children to bed. She'd made a bet that if he could finish before she finished her nighttime routine they could try for baby number three. He was failing spectacularly. But she was sure enjoying watching him try after all the time he had to spend away from them.

"She won't go to sleep unless you tuck in her bebe mi amor." She explained as she took her last bite of strawberry yogurt and rose to her feet. Their little girl was a terror when it came to bedtime unless everything was done just so. Warm milf with cinnamon, a story, and her doll tucked in next to her. "Are you sure you want another one of those running around here?"

[brooklynislandgirl]

There are days that you'd swear you'd peed in some divine entity's Wheaties, and as the kids say, now you're Finding Out. Beth doesn't really get what she did wrong; she'd gotten almost a whole five minutes of sleep between closing down the bar last night, and getting up for an early double work-shift, a whole sixteen hours on her feet in the emergency room. Normally she wouldn't have to do that on her own but Andy's back in New York, dealing with the Admiral so someone had to take up his slack. That someone is almost always her. Not that she minds; the bar's clientele are mostly off-duty and retired police officers so she's not in danger of being robbed or hit up on. Andy's reputation has made its way through the various precincts, or whatever they call the stations out here. But somewhere between exhaustion, L. A. traffic, and some jackass who didn't even leave a note, she now has one week to find, replace, repaint part of Sally and make her look like she never got a scratch while Beth was driving her, or… Or is being murdered the minute after he steps up to his car and sees the damage. If he loves anything more than her, it's his Mustang. She'd been given the name of four shops. The first three were all the wrong ones, either not having the right parts, not willing to do business with her, and the last one… well, she knows enough to know what a chop shop is and how unlikely it would be for her to walk out if she went inside. This last one on her list gives her the same vibe, but now she's running on desperation. The guy peels himself off the car and there's the invariable look on his face of…disappointment. She gets that a lot but now is not really the time for her to care about what he sees or doesn't see in her. "Not an appointment, exactly. But lissen t' me very carefully. I will give you a ridiculous amount of money to find an original front right quarter panel for a sixty four an' a half Mustang. An' if you can install dat, make sure her frame is perfectly straight, an' painted same-same midnight black as da rest of her in less dan a week? I will make my original offah look like spare change you find in da couch." She holds up her hands. "I'm even willin' t' pay half up front, but…I'm pretty sure ya shop's about to be raided by da mob. Dere's a suspicious amount of guys out front in dark cars. You expectin' dem, or do I gotta find someone else?" The flash-bang grenade breaks glass behind her.

@brooklynislandgirl

Tony figured he should feel some shame about the way his life was going, a decorated soldier dealing with street-level criminals for extra cash. To some extent, it kept a low-level amount of adrenaline in his system and kept his mind from wandering to darker places. The joys of partaking in the underbelly came and went. The car business was consistent enough with very minimal risk. His papers ran clean, and the shop didn't look too much one way or the other to get anyone's attention. At least until that day. The shop had been raided once a year prior; the cops were looking for an employee, not a stolen Maserati.

The day had started as normal as it could, one hiccup that would be paid in full soon enough.

Tick, tick- another pen clicked aimlessly- tick. Tony felt on edge; the client was late- no call. Nervous wasn't the right word, he was teetering closer to anger than fear. It was a waste of his time and the shops, getting a set of fresh tags as fast as they requested was closer to a favor than a normal happen stance.

And they were late. Tick-

Hearing the door swing open, he broke from his trance, pushing off the car he leaned on. The individual was not who he was expecting;, the surprise was communicated in a rise of his eyebrow. "Are you here for an appointment?" She hadn't dropped a car off for maintenance and she wasn't anything like the folks his client had sent before. Turning while she answered he shut the hood of the jeep he had been pretending to work on, kept his hands busy and his eyes off the clock.

"We don't have any openings for oil changes or tire checks," Tony had no idea how off his guess was.

[ladydestroyerofearth]

"Death would be kinder" (Meme)

Continued From Here

@thx-ghxst

Azrael nodded in confirmation of his shoe choice for her. They would match tonight and she sort of wanted her partner to be the center of attention. Tony may not really want to go but she wanted to admire and watch others admire him while they were out. Az pulled her clothing on she turned to take a look at herself in the mirror before approaching the dresser by the bathroom. "Mmmm maybe silver for the accessories tonight. I have a new set of hoops that I think would really look good." She said reaching out and plucking one of the many bottles of cologne off the vanity. Between her and Gin, the man owned at least 1/4 of the perfume counter. Spritzing it in the air she inhaled before nodding and coming up behind him. She set the bottle of Versace Eros on the bathroom sink allowing her arms to wrap around him and smooth the lapels of his jacket. "Hmmm, you look good enough to eat my love."

[ladydestroyerofearth]

@thx-ghxst

Az didn't normally have to deal with overzealous drunkards at her bar. The staff had gotten very good at cutting people off and spotting problem drinkers before things got bad. Turning her head she took a peak in the mirror at the light mark of discoloration that hid the mark left on her cheek from the man's heavy class ring. Az couldn't remember the last time she'd been injured let alone at her establishment.

Fluffing her hair she turned when she heard footsteps moving towards her from the bedroom. She was supposed to still be at work and he was supposed to be hanging out with the boys for the night.

"Hello darling, I thought you were going to be busy for the rest of the night." She said moving to kiss him.

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

"Loose ends."

He can think of a few names that would connect to - faces and people who may have perhaps preferred it if he weren't part of this little game anymore. A cold smile forms in the corners of his mouth but he does not move. If he were the worrying sort, it does not register. Not in his expression nor the way he leans against the table, staring at his unexpected company now.

"It has been some time since one of my peers tried to sink their proverbial teeth into me."

He's surprised any of them are brazen enough to have the stones to try. Though it doesn't matter, he is already considering the various ways he will return the favor. Once he gets their name from this one.

Straightening himself, Wesker takes a step back. His eyes narrowing from behind the protective dark glasses he always seems to wear. "What did they give you to complete the job? A gun? Poison? Indulge my curiosity."

Private contracts were something Tony never pictured himself taking on when he was given his papers. The shop had been his dream and for a few years; it was his baby. However, with the people he had trusted to work under his roof, things ran just fine without him. The boredom lead to plenty of poor choices, anything to challenge himself or chase a small dump of adrenaline.

The map of choices he had made to end up in that lab was something even he didn't understand. But, there he was. His old gear fit like a glove, his heart fluttering as he dawned the same haunting mask. Behind it Tony could fade away, Ghost could take charge.

Ghost's eyes scanned the pale man twice before he started to scribble on a piece of paper. "Higher-ups told me to find you. Guess there are some loose ends that need tying." The man's accent was fading but clung coat tails of a few words.

[thxhornxdonx]

The woman liked to keep tabs on the many men her parents tried to marry her off to. With the princeling being the one who lasted the longest she had a decided interest in him. When she finally found out went missing a brief wave of worry crashed over her. The giant of a man was kind, not overly ambitious or full of himself. And if she had to be tied down to one man it might as well be him.

Within 30 minutes she had called her brother and told him everything asking him to take care of it. As she had done for him when it came to his only lovely future wife. Kaguya knew that he himself could not go but could tip off his team who were no doubt looking for him with the location she had gathered. She had never met them personally but that would change when he returned safely.

Kazuya a given her the contact information of the team leader; Price. She shot him a quick message with any updated information she had received since talking to her brother attached/

'We do not know each other but we have a person in common. With your background, I hope that with the information previously provided and the stuff I just sent you can locate him. When you are headed home please reach out. If I don't hear from you in 48hrs I will assume that you have failed and will proceed with a contingency plan.

Kaguya'

@sevenxtenxthriteen

@thxhornxdonx

“We will ask you again. Where is the giant?” the man asked firmly grabbing Konigs face lifting it to look at him. Blood poured from his lips and nose, both had been busted against the cement floor when he collapsed the first time. The adrenaline they had shot into his system was fading fast, he was due for another shot. “Get the needle,” he called back, “The knife too- I want another patch.” Lifted by his wrists the man felt the bandages ripped off his back, a small whimper left the man. His head was released allowed to fall forward as the tools were brought, the sound of metal on flesh was one he wouldn’t soon forget. His cries faded out as his vocal cords failed him, the salt against the open wounds nearly had the man unconscious. The needle kept him awake.

Well placed boots to the shoulders rounded out the evenings activities, resting his full weight on the dislocated joints. It was then they allowed for a brief few hours of sleep. His good hip allowed for him to push up for some relief, it didn’t last long. The sun was close to rising, he suspected more of the same- it seemed they were

[sevenxtenxthriteen]

She almost ended up swallowing down the self-satisfied smirk on her lips when she watched his cock come to rest on its stomach. Just the sight of him made her core clench and her breath quicken. After helping him out of his pants and watching him remove his shirt she leaned forward pressing her lips to his skin. Once, twice she kissed the separate bullet wounds that were now exposed. Both a silent thanks and a prayer that he had survived and found his way back to her.

“My lion is so good for me.” Semara praised him for giving up control.

She wanted to tease and watch him fall apart, whimpering and begging. It made that dark and seductive part of her brain arch its back and purr when she was allowed to have her way with him. She placed one hand on his chest using it to brace herself as she pushed her hips up until she could reach her hand between her legs. Semara would have normally grabbed the lubrication from the bedside table or if she was needy enough to use her own saliva. Sliding two fingers inside of herself she gasped as she began to stretch and work herself to accommodate the size.

“Konig.” She whimpered winking down at him before pulling out her fingers and coating his length with her juices. Slowly she began to stroke him. her hand picking up speed and slowing down in 10 to 15-second intervals until she was sure that he probably couldn't take much more. and then with the confidence, she did not quite have the first time they slept together she lifted herself over him and pressed his head inside of her. “Oh, f-fuck.”

That initial stretch was a tantalizing mix of pleasure and pain that often had her on the edge of coming. Settling herself as far down as she could go she went motionless. Her breathing came out rough and ragged as she dug her nails into the skin of his chest. Holding on for dear life as if she would float away as she began to move slowly at first and then faster.

contiued from here

@sevenxtenxthriteen

Keep reading

[sevenxtenxthriteen]

Samara didn't think that she would ever be able to get used to it. How easy it was to read the man's emotions like a book. it was why she knew as soon as he came in the door that the day must not have gone well. That and the lack of energy and animation that he would typically have when they would talk. Of course, she didn't blame him she knew that everything she had to say wasn’t always riveting. But she also knew when he was already drowning inside of his own head he didn't need to worry about her too.

By the time they got to the bedroom, she knew he needed something to take his mind off of it. And Samara was more than happy to oblige. She had picked up on his subtle hint of frustration that morning and had already taken the time to get cleaned up before he got home. Her voice caught in her throat and her eyes widen as she listened to his reply to her question. Shit.…the desperation in his voice made her toes curl and her heart skip a beat.

“Queen….”She purred finally finding her voice after a long few moments. As she spoke she rolled her hips forward before moving her hands to grasp the hem of her shirt. Bringing it up and over her head, she exposed a lack of underwear “Princesses lay down and get fucked, darling. Queens sit astride and do the fucking and you thank her for the privilege.”

do you want to be inside me? (Semara For Konig)

His day had gone as bad as it could have. Between dropping everying he could ipck up on top of tearing his favorite shirt Konig was worn out. Getting home had been his only relief; the rest of the world was out of his mind and he could simply focus on his girlfriend/home. Dinner had been most uneventful as he ate trying to keep his frustrations to himself, chatting idly about her day. After they cleaned and wondered into the bedroom he was surprised when she opted to let him shower alone; figuring he wouldn’t be good company anyway the man complied. Stepping out, he was surprised to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, motioning for him to lay out before her. Once he was stretched out she crawled on top of him, leaning down until their foreheads almost touched. 

Then she ask him.

The words took more than a few moments to set in. He blinked slowly, staring up at Semara. It was like she could read his mind. “Please,” the word sounded borderline desperate, falling from his lips. His hands had rested on her hips as she pressed down on his hips with her’s, “Please prinzessin- let me inside,” he rested his head against the pillow.

[sevenxtenxthriteen]

It was all just a cockamamie of lights and sounds. Static sound of the radio just before everything went dark. She could remember flashes of a dingy hospital have our own bloody hands reaching out but there was nothing else. They asked so many questions none of which she had the answers to. And upon till the point they discharged her into the care of a woman's shelter she actually thought they might want to help her. But apparently, these cases were a dime a dozen. And it was very likely that she would just be another body on the morning news come the next day. This was a country at War and it didn't have time for a citizen let alone a confused young woman who spoke in broken English but knew nearly fluent Korean and Spanish with no identification.

For the last 5 years, she had been stumbling, and when she could run through this hellscape that was life with no memories before the day she woke up in the hospital. She had learned rather quickly what and what not to do in order to survive. Don’t mouth off no matter how the rage would boil up in her blood. An old and oddly familiar siren song she didn’t know the words to. Lie, like your life depended on it because it does. Waking up knowing two other languages besides English was a plus. And it wasn’t long before she picked up a job, questionable as it was but it paid the bills. So when this man of unknown background and freakish heights came along she wasn’t suspicious until he said he knew her. How could he know her when she didn’t even know herself.

“Giant.” She barked at the man with irritation on her face as she looked up at him. She tossed the keys of her beat-up truck on the counter. It was one of the first things she bought after becoming an information broker. Even as she spoke she packed a bag. Because even if he was lying and this was a trick she needed to get out of there. There was more than one person she had burned in th process of trying to stay alive.“You still haven’t convinced me why I should go anywhere with you. You have nothing to back up your claim and I have a life here. If I was this woman you’re talking about how come no one came looking.”

“And stop calling me Estella, I’m called Charmaine or Chari if I like you. And you’re starting to annoy me, so Charmaine it is.”

@sevenxtenxthriteen

Before

The weather was supposed to be shit, Price had begged her to stay, to hand the mission over. She was due to retire; why did she need to go out in a blaze of glory? Well, he knew why, but he  asked her all the same. Her rejection of his request was clear, she was going to do one last run then she’d be the happily retired Mrs.Price. No arguments; a quick peck and she was off.

Unable to simply to wait in the bunks, Price was in the comms room. Thankfully, his rank still had some pull, he stayed int he back silent as they moved in. His arms crossed over his chest, holding his breath as they started to descend onto the target. 

Things went to shit pretty quickly. First it was alarms, then it was the radios- 

“What’s happening?” Price barked over the radio as the crash rang out. The silence was deafening, “Get it back online- send bravo team now-” it would all be for nothing. The other helicopter was scrambled, the team was there in no time- cameras showed the worst.

The helicopter landed across enemy lines, it would be war to go after bodies. 

After

“There were no survivors on the site, we found her tags Price-” Things went dark from there, Tony had to practically pull the man off the reporting officer. The court marshal that followed was not lenient to the man, he was a danger to himself and the team. Forced time at home was the only thing between him and a dishonorable discharge from service, so he went home.

They could only keep him away for a year, by the time he returned, Price was a shell of the commander he once was. Kept on light duty state side, they couldn’t force him to retire yet, so this kept him as safe as they could. A year turned into three. 141 was disbanded, the team slowly turned in their uniforms for civilian clothes. Price finally stepped back when the MIA was turned to a KIA, no body- no reason to stay. 

Three turned into five. Price was back at the ranch and running things as had been planned. His father passed not long after he retired, leaving the man to run it on his own. Things stayed as normal as they could until a familiar Austrian called the house, he found her. 

The ranch hands had found him unconscious in the kitchen, heart medication dumped on the floor beside him. With luck the ambulance managed to get him breathing before he was admitted into the hospital. Tony arranged the pick up with Konig, unwilling to let the old man take himself out based on a ghost. 

[sevenxtenxthriteen]

It was unfortunate but her job came with a certain risk factor. One that was not too dissimilar from his own. Which he had known about when they made their initial contract that had quickly turned into an actual marriage. Sybil hated seeing him like this, worrying him but it wasn't like she could just cut out the danger altogether from what she did. Someone had to be out there, searching for the stories, getting the information, and letting the world know what was going on. And ever since she could remember she wanted to be her.

“ I'm sorry.” She stuttered taking note of the look on his face. In all the time she had known Aaron she had not known him to be overly emotional. Of course, he had every right to be mad, worried but this was her job. And she couldn't even begin to wrap her mind around doing anything else. “ Can't keep doing what Aaron? My job! This is my job the same one I've had the entire time that we've been together. You knew the risks as well as I did and we're still both here. And I can't force you to stay but I'm not going to give up my dream. It's the only thing that I have that I made for myself and no one else handed to me.”

❝ i’m okay now. i’m safe. you don’t have to be angry anymore. ❞ (Sybil For Aaron)

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he held her against him. The smell of her shampoo and sound of her voice were the only thing keeping him from losing his shit again. It took a few moments for her words to properly sink in, “It isn’t that easy, Syb,” he offered, quietly kissing the top of her head before pulling back. Taking her face in his hand, he gave it a small squeeze, “I had no idea where you were or what the fuck you were thinking.” Anger was a byproduct of what he had really been processing: fear. 

Pulling her against his chest once more he rested his head on top of her’s, “You can’t do that to me,” the buildings he would have moved to find her. While he was still working under the government he had to live in between a rock and a hard place. “You can’t keep doing this.”

[sevenxtenxthriteen]

Like most women in the armed forces, she had dealt with her fair share of people who came sniffing around. Some simply for convenience and others who thought they could get a leg up if they were really nice to their commanding officers. Either way, it made picking slim which was why when she dated it was normally with civilians or those in other branches. One of those men who unexpectedly caught her attention was the Captain of a group of boneheaded black ops she'd last evacuated.

Maybe it was because they didn't cause her any trouble while under his watchful eye that she delivered some baked goods. It might have been because he looked at her like she was a person, a woman, and not just a pilot. Either way, she gave lt him flirt and talk his cake until he finally got bold enough to make her an offer. Leaning against the bar she'd listened to him wax poetic about the type of dates he would take her on if only he was given the chance. Stella had named a date and time; her last day in the little town that surrounded their bases before the long holiday started.

"Good I was having a craving for hot chocolate and none of that fake powdered stuff they were serving in the cantine," She replied wrapping her overlong scarf a second time around her neck. Stella was digging around her pockets for her gloves when he offered the rose. A small smile appeared on her lips as she accepted it. "I'm sure you'll make sure I don't regret not heading home sooner Price."

@sevenxtenxthirteen

Price had resigned himself for single fatherhood, without a misses and a band of hoodlums to look after he was comfortable. He didn’t bother with the apps and had a few steady one night stands if he was desperate. Thankfully he hadn’t called any of those lines in years. With no intentions of finding love within the armed forces the man was caught off guard by the force that was Estella. A skilled helicopter pilot that had as much piss and vinegar in her as the next. The stern woman had caught his attention when she started flying for them, Roach/Ghost/Aaron had caught onto the man’s interest almost immediately. The teasing was relentless. But, it seemed his feelings may have been returned.

A personal bag of treats had been delivered to him after a fairly risky mission. When he saw who signed the letter the man was as red as a cherry. A few well placed winks and clever turns of phrases was his gift in return. She had no reason to find him interesting, there was a line out the door for her attention. So, he tried to keep professional. Until he couldn’t. A few drinks and opportunity had the man speaking a little more of his mind than he should have. Ain’t a solider on this base worth your time, this and, if I had the chance I’d take you on quite the date, that. Well as to be expect she told him to out his money where his mouth was. With Christmas time off around the corner he invited her for an outing in town. It split the commute for them pretty well and the little towns Christmas lights were something to see.

Waiting in his winterized cowboy boots and a thick flannel the man looked almost nothing like the battle worn solider. Here he was simply a cow poke, “Snow seemed to be waiting on us,” the storm had been due that week but got delayed last minute. Call it fate or luck. Offered a single wrapped rose to the woman he gave a small smile, “Appreciate you giving me a minute if your time,” to a lot of soldiers time home was a precious commodity. One that ought not to be wasted.

[sevenxtenxthriteen]

Ella's tried to swallow a whimper as Price said buzzword after buzzword. Sometimes she couldn't tell if he was trying to put her in a comma or simply enjoying himself while making her head spin. The sounds that managed to find a way out of her mouth were a mix of whimpers and strangled moans. It was easy to forget sometimes between his commissions and near-death missions that he would prefer to spend his time just like this. Brubbing beard burns into her thighs and listening to her sing a song only meant for his ears.

"A-Arthur." She stuttered fingers moving down to tangle themselves in his hair. Her mind was fuzzy and her body began to heat up as she felt his fingers curling inside her. Slowly she began to rock her hips chasing after the orgasm the man had never been too greedy to give her.

"Fuck, f-fuck!"

sevenxtenxthriteen​:

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[sevenxtenxthriteen]

It had been a rush ever since she'd been snatched hours earlier. Hands grabbing and pulling at her as she was forced from one place to another. At some point, she had fallen skinning her hands and knees and acquiring new bruises as she was dragged back up and pushed into the room she had been held in since then. Semara was just headed home from her internship, trying to post a letter to her childhood pen pal before mail pick up the next day. It had always been something that could happen but the reality was a stark contrast to a warning.

Her eyes closed tight as she tried to imagine herself anywhere but here. Focusing instead on sounds; gunshots, boots on cement, and yelling, before everything grew silent. European maybe if the stressing of the v's was anything to go by Germany, Hungry and Austria were at the top of the list.

"Yes, I can." She whispered opening her eyes to take a peak at the man. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the sheer size of him. Men did not come in his size in her homeland, he was definitely European. At the mention of her father, she perked up trying not to display h ache in her hands and knees. Wrapping her hand around the strap in question she nodded before clearing her throat to speak.

"I-I understand, please let us be on our way. I would hate to continue to put you in danger by making you come to save me. Regardless if it is the job of you kind gentlemen."

@sevenxtenxthriteen​

The request was short and simple: a Kenyan dignitary had found his daughter taken in the middle of the night. Get her home safe. That was all the young Austrian needed to know; a team was assembled within a few hours and they were on their way to the compound. Donning the sniper’s hood and adjusting his rifle strap, Konig was to breach the door with backup. Not knowing the state of the target, it was assumed he’d have to carry her out to evac, Simple enough. 

Breaking down a few doors and taking out the guards, Konig didn’t break a sweat; soon they were at the door. “Keep avay from ze door,” he called out incase the woman was close before his boot connected at the handle shattered the flimsy ply wood. Stepping in and clearing the room, he moved to kneel before the woman, “Semara Kioko?” Her sole nod was enough for him to stand, offering a hand to her, “Your father sent uz to bring you home. We will keep you safe, can you stand?” Waiting on her to stand or explain where she was hurt, the man checked in on the earphone, “Package secure, ready for transport.” When she was on her feet he motioned behind him, “Take the strap on my vest, you keep your head placed there. Do not look away from it and tell me if I valk too fast.” 

Stepping from the room, he kept his rifle pointed forward leading her back the way they had come, two soldiers brought up the rear. “We have one flight of stairs zen we will be outside. There is a big truck coming to take you home, do you understand?” 

[sevenxtenxthriteen]

All the color drained out of her face when she got a closer look at Tony's side. She had always forbidden Price from roughhousing so hard that it left bruising. Knowing good and well most of the boys had more than enough trauma to give it out by the pound and still have some left over.

"So are we staying out in the barn like the little pigs trying to avoid the big bad wolf? Or do we have a plan?" Estella said as she walked over to a nearby tool table and fished out a first aid kit. Coming back with bandages and compression in order to fix Tony up.

"Talk while I do this he might already be suspicious."

"I thought you liked your soup like you liked your woman? Thick and spicy or something like that." She teased as she stepped towards the back door and starts to pull on her muck boots, coat, and scarf. Estella also grabbed a banana off the counter; Ryder's favorite. The sooner she got him the sooner she could get back to taking care of her husband."

"Let's go kid. Tony doesn't need to be out there any longer than possible. Az will kill me if I send him back sick. And I'll b back for you sir."